Lynn's Comments: When dad had a mind to build something, he made great stuff. Trouble was, he under-built everything, and what looked like a sturdy vehicle, would last for perhaps two good runs. St. Andrews and St. George's Streets bordered our block of East Fifth and were two of the steepest hills in North Vancouver. Our "Dad-made" go-karts disintegrated instantly--but they had potential. Each one he built lasted a bit longer than the last one, and we always hoped for a kart that would make it through the summer.
Lynn's Comments: Our dad was a big kid at heart. He enjoyed riding the hills as much as we did. I always wondered why he was so eager to join us in our games and our fantasies. I later read in his sister's (my aunt Bessie's) diary, that he had always held a part time job, and after his dad was injured in the shipyards, he was sent to work full-time at the age of seventeen to help support his family. He never really had a childhood--and loved to share in ours.
Lynn's Comments: After watching Dad build yet another dud, Alan decided to build a more conventional go-kart. He took apart our old baby carriage and used the wheels. This looked good, but the axles and the wheels were too flimsy to withstand our abuse. Mom was angered by the destruction of the carriage, so Al removed the carriage wheels and took apart our wagon instead!