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COLUMN SIX | New Year's graduation

A new chapter opens­—four decades ago T he very word “graduation” usually brings a smile and happy memories. This is true for us as we remember the five days of our son John’s RCMP graduation in Regina.

A new chapter opens­—four decades ago

The very word “graduation” usually brings a smile and happy memories. This is true for us as we remember the five days of our son John’s RCMP graduation in Regina. We travelled by plane, along with Nancy, John’s girlfriend. Nancy had spent several nice weekends with us during the last year or so when John came home from Trent University with her, and now we were to get to know each other better. John did not greet us until later, when he finished his day’s workout. It was a joyful and moving moment to see him again, among many such moments as the days wore on.

John’s interest in the RCMP went back many years and his goal was either to join the force or become a teacher. While still at university, two summers were spent with the force as a special officer in Toronto, where he and other young aspirants were given a taste of life in a police service. Actually, much of his time was spent in musty attics and basements with the fraud squad searching for evidence in old trunks and boxes. When John was applying for permanent training, they encouraged him to continue with university training so he would have a degree in case he did not like the work.

His application with the RCMP started with his own investigation process, some of which we eventually knew about. Teachers, neighbours, the minister, and former bosses were all interviewed to give a picture of his character. One of our neighbours was stopped by a young man in his car asking what kind of person was John Ferguson. Finally, a young officer phoned us to ask about coming to our home for an interview with us. He chose Halloween evening, which was a bit of an interrupted affair. Perhaps that was his plan— to see how we could handle the situation. After that, John settled down to wait—and wait.

At last his acceptance arrived in the mail. Hallelujah! He was to enroll in Regina on July 1, 1980. We had just adjusted to his leaving home for university after three years, but we both knew that this was a different separation. He was outward bound for his professional life now. This was the way of the world, but that did not make it any easier. Now here he was greeting us — looking tired, but excited, and very trim and fit. He wore the working uniform and big boots. Something happens to your stomach the first time you see your child in a police uniform. Instinctively, you want to stand up straighter, and swear to tell the truth, but this policeman threw his arms around us and hugged us both. He crushed Nancy in a tight embrace and we knew for sure that she must be the one for him.

Because the graduation was on January 5, parents and wives were asked if they wished to come early and have tickets for the annual New Year’s Eve Dinner and Ball. So that evening we donned what finery we had and went to the festivities. It was a red serge affair, and John looked very elegant in his uniform, walking proudly with Nancy on his arm. He drove us in his car from the hotel to the auditorium. We checked in at our hotel in Regina, along with many other families from every province in Canada, who were all there to celebrate their sons’ completion of the rigorous taking-off-of-his-hat to fit into the driver’s seat.

This was a new experience for us to be double-dating with our son and his girlfriend, and we knew that next time we must allow Nancy to sit in front as a couple

“Oh, heck,” he said. “I can’t fit the pedals because of my spurs,” and proceeded to unclip his spurs and hand them to his dad in the front seat. This set me off into a fit of the giggles, Nancy joining in, and we drove off to hysterical laughter from the four of us. This was a new experience for us to be double-dating with our son and his girlfriend, and we knew that next time we must allow Nancy to sit in front as a couple.

That evening was a memorable occasion. The drill hall was full of mature officers with the gold braid glistening on the red serge. It was like a movie set, with the women in formal gowns circulating among their friends. The new young officers-to-be felt quite humble with all these impressive superiors around.

We could hardly believe the size of the tables of food at this gigantic buffet. At both ends of the 12-foot tables were the biggest haunches of western beef we had ever seen. In between were platters of fish, huge hams ready for slicing, and several platters of whole chicken and duck. Huge bowls held different kinds of salads with many varieties of dressings available. Another two tables held a variety of elegant desserts. Dancing began after the meal and was a pleasure to see—watching was more interesting.

The next day was more restful, but also interesting for us—a tour of the training buildings. Next came a day of instruction for the wives/girlfriends of the new recruits—what they could expect, how to fit in to a new community, etc., while the parents were free to come and go. So we decided to rent a car and travel west for the day—going as far as Moose Jaw as we explored some of Saskatchewan’s prairie in winter.

The day of graduation dawned clear and sunny in spite of the cold. The new recruits were rehearsing their drills – John said later that they messed up their drill practice and they were yelled at. In the actual program the drill was done to perfection and we watched with pride to see our son at his best. Both Nancy and I had tears. Each recruit came to salute and receive his formal papers and many shed tears at last. This segment of their lives was over. Papers and addresses of their new placement were handed out. John was off to Maple Ridge in British Columbia as he had indicated either B.C. or Alberta as his choice. We all had tears as we said goodbye—we were all on a new path. It was a New Year’s celebration to remember and cherish.