A Farewell to Zellers

This month, after 82 years, the last of 220 Zellers department stores across Canada will be closing their doors. Millions of shoppers and thousands of past and present associates are sad to see its demise.

When they opened their doors in 1931, it was promoted as "stores for thrifty people," and over forty years later, it became an important part of my life. It wasn't the shopping aspect that meant so much to me. Their head office in Montreal was my employer for almost a decade, and throughout that time, there were some wonderful years.

We employees were a pretty close-knit group and the company did much to help keep spirits high. Each of the seven floors had one staff member who was a BRC (Better Relations Committee) member. Together, they would plan several events during the course of the year including car rallies, sugaring off parties (maple syrup runs), dances, the annual Christmas party and the seasonal events which helped pay for it all - the sample sales.

A few times a year, Zellers buyers would locate, collect and turn over the promotional samples they received from suppliers over the previous months. As with any department store, these items ranged from very the very small - cosmetics, sewing needles, flower seeds or women's socks to much more interesting merchandise like winter coats, televisions, sporting equipment, luggage and gold jewellery. They were laid out on long tables in the basement lunchroom, where many of our after-work parties were held. As soon as the work day was done, we would line up outside of the large room. When all was ready we were given access, and off we went in search of our great bargains - 10¢ for a bottle of shampoo, $12 coats, $15 for a tent.. and so on. It was like going on a shopping spree with 500 of your best friends.

Speaking of best friends, Zellers was where my enduring friendship with Carol Anne began. Along with other friends of the time, we attended many of the above-mentioned events together - the most memorable of which were the car rallies. We were all pretty young at the time, and only one member of our gang had a vehicle. Derek (or Erek with a D, as we sometimes called him) was always the driver. There were usually six of us traveling in his Jimmy, and the navigator varied from one rally to the next.

Carol Anne and yours truly sometime around 1978.

We made a good team and typically we won or came in second but one time we came in dead last. Oh we were doing great for most of the day - passing all the right check points in good time, and figuring out the clues as we usually did. But driving along a country road, just as we passed a corn field, we succumbed to a flat tire. And there was no spare. We watched as car after numbered car passed us by while Derek and one of the others went off in search of a station to get the tire patched. The cornfield served as a nice, discreet place to hide ourselves when we females had to pee. We eventually arrived at our destination just in time to receive the booby prize which ironically, happened to be a tire pump. Since most of us had no idea where the rally actually took us, maps were handed out to find our way back to Montreal after the usual dinner and dance.

I was with Zellers in '76 when Field's, an American retailer purchased a majority hold, making for some unhappy shareholders. Months later, Zellers pulled a reverse takeover instead, buying out one of Field's divisions which meant acquiring numerous stores. Our Personnel department threw a surprise celebration party for all head office employees after work that day. Champagne and wine flowed, delicious entrées and treats were served along with the biggest, most extravagant multi-tiered giant shrimp fountain I have ever seen. They knew how to party.

We had regular parties or dances to celebrate whatever the calendar brought our way. Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's, the start of a season or because we just hadn't had one in a while. There was always music, wine, beer and munchies and they took place on Thursdays, after work.

Every November, there was a Christmas party for employees only. Our numbers were high so it was understandable that significant others were not included. The one exception was when Zellers celebrated their 50th anniversary in 1981.

For a week or two every December, we'd all be given a free half-hour at the start of the day to gather in the lunch room to sing Christmas songs. Different employees volunteered to lead the singing each day, and we got to know who would opt for which songs. And it helped that they handed out songbooks with the lyrics. There was one buyer who sobbed every time she lead us through O Holy Night, and who had us giggling over the silliness of Suzy Snowflake - a song I had never heard before, and only heard once afterwards but will always remember note for note.

One of the most important life changes happened for me while I worked for Zellers. For the first several years, I handled a block of suppliers for their Accounts Payable department. One of those suppliers was a small company called K.D.F. Industries whose nearby factory was run by Don. He came to collect his business cheque one day, took me to lunch and we married two years later. Though we have since gone our separate ways, we remain good friends and will always share the love for our two beautiful sons.

Like any place, not everything was wonderful about working at Zellers. They had their share of office politics and unfair treatment, difficult bosses and supervisors who could practically get away with murder but as you can see, Zellers was good to me in many ways and I'll miss its presence very much.

Bye-bye, Zellers. Thanks for the many fond memories.


The following photos are unrelated to the post but I do hope you enjoy them.



Though taken in Frank's back yard in southern Ontario, this snowfall is a little more reminiscent of Montreal winters.





Lovely as they are, mourning doves are not the brightest birds.





These two didn't even have the sense to find shelter from the snow.





Yeah, I'm talking about you!





This beauty had some hunting to do. That's a starling in the hawk's talons.





The next day, the sun shone bright and beautiful.





I'm thinking mouse tracks - dragging that little tail behind him. Does anyone know for sure?





A pristine path. Not even Benny has broken through yet.





The snow on Frank's roof was like a giant soft ice cream cone about to land on its head. Or on one of ours.








Before too long, the days will warm up and the snow will melt (in truth that table is all cleared off again by now) and we'll probably sit out there having a drink and looking forward to summer.

Soon, I hope!

Thanks for listening to my stories about Zellers and for sharing our February snowfall. Soon, I'll have some photos of how Benny managed the deep snow.

Northern Shores, Iconic Stores and My Dear Friend, CA.

We've not had any snow yet in my part of southern Ontario, and November has kindly treated us to a number of unseasonably mild days. This means more walks and more photos to share with you.

As you can probably tell by the title, this is a bit of a scrambled post. Earlier this month, I boarded a commuter train so I could spend the day visiting my friend, Carol Anne. We've known each other for just about 35 years now and I can scarcely remember what my life was like without her in it.

Over the decades, geography and circumstance occasionally dictated various gaps of time between our getting together - sometimes, weeks or months, though I doubt a full year has ever passed without a visit. No matter how much time passes, ours is the kind of friendship that instantly picks up where it left off, with the comfort and laughter that can only be shared with dear friends who have seen each other at their best and at their worst - and love one another in spite of it, and because of it. We've lived as far apart as 565 kilometers (350 miles) and as close as same-floor neighbours in a small, old apartment building.

We met when we both worked at the (then) Montreal-based head office of Canada's largest retail chain, Zeller's. Carol Anne worked in one of their buying departments, and I handled a chunk of their suppliers in the accounts payable office. We had a few mutual friends in other departments and soon we were all hanging out together evenings and weekends.

Zeller's had a pretty good handle on company morale. About every month or so, their Better Relations Committee organized events such as car rallies, sugar shack parties, sample sales, dances and of course their Christmas parties every November. It was a fairly close-knit group of 300 employees and we had a lot of fun together through the years.

Eventually our immediate gang of about 10, each moved in different directions, geographically (some as far as New Zealand), and Carol Anne and I were no exceptions. After working for ten years at Zeller's, I moved from my native Montreal to settle in Ontario. Shortly afterward, Carol Anne and her family did the same and we each took up residences in towns on opposite sides of Toronto. She has recently moved a bit farther away than that, but her home is still less than an hour away from mine by car and just a couple more by bus and train. And as a bonus, she's only about 20 minutes from Frank's place so I get to see her there too.

As for Zeller's, their stores have been around a little longer than I have, but sadly, their time is coming to an end as they have recently been bought out by an incoming American chain - Target. They'll be changing most of the stores over pretty soon and I'm not looking forward to that.

Back to the photos. On this lovely autumn day, early in November, I boarded the GO Transit (GO stands for Government of Ontario) and headed east across the city of Toronto to visit Carol Anne.

I took this photo through the train window, as the tracks followed the northern shore of Lake Ontario.

Before darkness fell (it does that so early these days), we decided to go for a stroll near her home. There's a lovely walking path which follows the lake's shoreline and in turn, it beckoned us to follow it.

Depending on your vantage point, Lake Ontario can appear small and intimate like like my own local pond..

or large and imposing like the ocean.

And always beautiful...

.. no matter how you look at it.

After our lovely nature walk, we headed over to Frank's place for a yummy dinner. Carol Anne returned home after the meal and I stayed at Frank's for a few days.

This wasn't dinner leftovers, but rather a migrating salmon picked clean by the local birds. I snapped this shot on my walk a few days later, along the creek shoreline.

And just in case you wanted to get a look at the area just before sunset, here it is. This is right outside and across the street from Frank's front door.

Thanks for joining me on my walks. Carol Anne, Frank and all of you are such great company.

"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked." ~ Bernard Meltzer

Evan

When I was twelve, my family bought and moved into their first and only house. Having grown up on the top floor of a lovely old three-story apartment building, I was thrilled to have a front yard, a back porch and garden, and a room of my own.

Around that same time, a Portuguese family moved in next door to us, and I quickly became fast friends with Debbie and Yvonne - two of the three daughters. We went everywhere and did everything together throughout our teen years.

Two doors down from them was our friend, Evan. He was a year younger than I was and probably a bit smarter. And was always interested in gadgets. Not like pocket knives and compasses - those were too typical. Evan liked electronic toys like bugging devices and noise meters. He was a 1960's kid ahead of his geeky time, and he was always looking for ways to acquire and use these gadgets for his entertainment.

One time the four of us decided to hold a faux séance. The victim was Isabel - Debbie and Yvonne's younger sister. Evan rigged up a speaker which sat hidden behind the drapes in Yvonne's bedroom, where the seance was to be held. He had a microphone which was connected to the speaker by a long wire that led back to his own home. I was stationed outside of Yvonne's room. On the other side of that door, the three sisters sat in semi-darkness trying to conjure up the dead. As they asked questions of the dearly departed, I repeated their words to Evan over the phone. Speaking into the microphone from home, he came up with appropriate responses which he delivered in a ghoulish voice over the makeshift sound system. Poor Isabel was totally convinced that she had successfully made contact with the other side.

I can remember a time when Evan got into a bit of trouble with the police for constructing and detonating a bomb. Oh, relax. It was a pretty benign explosive, which propelled unraveling rolls of toilet paper all over an unpleasant neighbour's yard. He had been caught, and was sitting in the back of a police car by the time Debbie and I found out what was going on. His one and only concern was that he had to get rid of the package of cigarettes he had, so that his parents wouldn't find out that he smoked. This was especially important because they believed he still had the asthma which bothered him as a younger child. That regularly re-enacted condition got him occasional days off from school.

Evan came from a musical family and was a talented pianist. He loved to play, and I loved to listen to his renditions of Elton John's Border Song and Your Song. He also took pride in having figured out how to play the Charlie Brown cartoon theme - tickling both the keyboard and our fancies. He had the most incredible eyes I've ever seen. The colour - unique. Not quite green. Not quite brown. Almost golden. They were startlingly beautiful and oddly catlike. He was a fun, intelligent guy, with a wry sense of humour.

We grew apart as kids tend to do, and though our paths crossed a couple of times when we were in our twenties, we never fully clicked again. As the years went by, and online communication made the world a little smaller, I thought about what path Evan's life might have taken. I had little doubt that he would be Internet-savvy and would likely work in a computer-related field. A few years ago, a quick Google search confirmed that.

Evan was a web page designer, a computer consultant and part time techno-guru for one of Montreal's top radio stations. The world of technology had finally grown into his long-standing geekdom. I couldn't resist emailing him to catch up. He responded shortly afterward with the pertinent details of his life. He had three sons of whom he was immensely proud, and a career which gave him much joy. He still created music. He still smoked those darn cigarettes. Our exchange was brief and pleasant, and more than a tad nostalgic. I was glad I'd made contact.

That was a number of years ago. Recently, I thought I'd look for a radio station to listen to online. I immediately thought of my native Montreal's CJAD - the station where I knew Evan worked on the air occasionally. I wondered if that was still the case and decided to Google his name once again. Sadly, the first item which came up was his obituary.

Evan passed away almost two years ago of lung cancer. Just yesterday, I found this very lovely tribute by his friend and colleague. The photo of Evan on that page must have been taken when he was in his forties, yet he looked almost the same as he did when we were young teenagers - minus the braces.

Evan and I hadn't been close for decades, but it ached and tugged at my heart to learn of his passing. So many good memories and laughs were shared with this boy who had eyes like a cat.

Rest in peace, old friend.

The following images were taken last week at a beautiful, old cemetery in Port Hope. Please remember to click on the images to enlarge them.

"Sweet is the memory of distant friends. Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart." ~ Washington Irving




"Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life." ~ John Muir




"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die." ~ Thomas Campbell




"Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life."
~Albert Einstein




"When death occurs, death as you know it, the universe embraces you and takes you to its heart." ~ Rosemary Altea




"So say it loud and let it ring. We are all a part of everything. The future, present and the past. Fly on proud bird. You're free at last." ~ Charlie Daniels