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Showing posts from November, 2016

When the Children Scream

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It was a hot summer day in North-Western Ontario. School was out for at least another month, and the Carlson children were taking full advantage of the chance to swim in the lake, go for a ride on an All-Terrain-Vehicle, build tree forts in the sprawling mixed boreal forest, or go adventuring in a boat or canoe. The air was fresh and filled with the scent of sun-baked pine trees, earthy moss, and the crisp smell of the wind off the lake. Birds soared high overhead in the bright blue sky. The occasional loon could be heard far off in the distance, barely audible over the droning of small insects and the call of songbirds. The world was alive with the magic of summer, and the six children were drinking it all in.
The year was 1985. Our ATV was a three-wheeler; a vehicle that has been taken off the market for being known as easy to tip over and hazardous to ride. We wore life-jackets when we operated motorboats as we zipped around the lake, but many times we were without adult supervisi…