by Ruth-Anne McCauley
It was 1965, and it was not that late in the evening in Galt, Ontario. Fall had arrived the sun had set and the full moon was on the rise. Woolworths had one of their ninety nine cent sales, and the escalator ride had been as scary as ever. I had been walking down town and looking in the local shop windows before I realised how late it had gotten and the shops were all closed.
My family lived on the East side of Galt then, near Lincoln Park. The fastest way for me was to go up the hill past Dickey Stoyles and cut across over to Concession, grab some Chestnuts from two of the large chestnut trees for the next day of school (I was such a tomboy). I had my Mother’s darning needle and old shoelace all ready. My mind was working overtime on strategy on how I was going to beat the boys. My head was down, and I was avoiding the cracks, so ‘not to break my Mother’s back’.
The sky was that steel blue you see, just before it turns dark, still light enough for me to make it home as the lights were going on, well maybe I had better hurry. I looked up as I started to approach the Main Street hill. There in all its splendour was the Full Moon, not just any Full Moon, but hill swallowing, fire burning, shimmering Full Moon. Now if you lived in Galt and ever walked that street at night on a fall night you know what I am writing about. I felt I was walking into the Moon; better than that epic moon later to be shown in E.T. much better, and only in our town of Galt.
The splendour in Fall only to be matched by the many oak, chestnut, and maple trees lining our street, turning the Fall colors, the arched bridges, the magnificent churches, Central always being my favourite of course and the Grand River rolling through our town. Always a hill and a dale balanced by architecture I was so fortunate.
Although I know the scenery has changed somewhat. The Park up top has allowed some semblance of consistency. I hope one day I can take a picture of that very scene so it will always be a vision I can share with others. It still keeps the town of Galt in my memory, as I watched it grow beyond and amalgamate into Cambridge with Preston and Hespler. Galt was really never that small, when I think of it, but we walked it all in the 60, 70s and even some of the 80s. I will never forget that Moon that swallowed Main Street Hill.Tags: Galt, ontario