In the Fall of 1929 a major fire was reported at the far end of Douglas Avenue , Saint John , New Brunswick. The firestation doors opened wide on nearby Main Street and out rolled the horse-drawn engine ..... firefighters hanging from both sides. As they rounded the corner heading out Douglas Avenue the heavy vehicle tipped over crushing two firemen underneath its weight.... the eight horses panicked and bolted forward dragging the unfortunate victims along with them. A young 26-year-old man sprang from the crowd loitering there on the corner , jumped in front of the two lead horses.... grabbing each by the halter..... and managed to stop the runaways...... thereby bringing a halt to tragic mishap. The young man's name was Edmund McNulty , or McAnulty as they wrote it back then.....and he was my Dad ........ and I buried him 21 years ago today.
One half hour earlier he had stepped down from the train at Union Station after a two-year jaunt out West in Alberta where he had driven teams of horses dragging huge loads of felled timber down to the sawmills from the Crow's Nest Pass in the Rockies and also working wheat harvesting on the Canadian Prairies. The above picture was taken that very day at Union Station with his travelling buddy " Hum " Cronin. My Dad ( glasses and flowing white scarf ) told me that he and "Hum" had bought their suits in Moose Jaw and had spruced up and donned them about a half hour before their arrival in Saint John after a five-day train trip ...... to impress the hell out of their old cronies and especially for the girls.... so he said !!
According to his buddies ..... were it not for the proverbial dog , my father could easily have been chosen " man's best friend". His work mates vied to pair up with him in the workplace because he always pulled his load. He was no slacker ! Later on men would line up to work under his orders when he was longshore boss because he was fair and just to all. As for his being a great husband and father...... well , whether he' d had an exhausting , rough 'n tumble day on the docks with his men or a rowdy evening at McLaughlin's Pool Hall carousing with his "bummy" friends I would always fall asleep listening to the murmur of my parents voices....... down on their knees bedside in the adjacent room.......... telling their beads before turning in for the night.
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