Donald or Wayne as he was more often known was a good friend of mine. I remember an incident one night when I happened to stop by at his house on Bay Street. Bay Street was a circular Street that joined Hwy 1 between the old Leland Road and the railroad track near the VFW building. Wayne asked me to lie in a ditch on the edge of Hwy 1 near where Bay Street joined the Hwy. Low in the tall grass of the ditch Wayne throw out an old purse attached with a long cord into the middle of the ditch side lane of Hwy 1. You can imagine the humorous reaction when a man in an old rickety truck passed over the purse and immediately squealed his brakes stopping in the middle of the lane. The man the exited the truck cab in a full stride running back the in the direction he had come. He made it nearly to the stop light at the Old Leland road, which was over a half of a block away, before he turned and came back toward us. He zigzagged looking on the side of the hwy to the middle. As he approached us, we just got lower and were never discovered. The man stood a few feet from us for a long time scratching his head turning to look in all directions. The man returned to his truck cab. When we thought he had given up, he got out again and came to the rear of the truck. On his knees, he made a thorough search of the underside of his truck. After the man return to the truck cab, the truck seemed to leave ever so slowly and reluctantly.
Wayne will be missed as are all of our memorable classmates.
Paul Henderson
Donald or Wayne as he was more often known was a good friend of mine. I remember an incident one night when I happened to stop by at his house on Bay Street. Bay Street was a circular Street that joined Hwy 1 between the old Leland Road and the railroad track near the VFW building. Wayne asked me to lie in a ditch on the edge of Hwy 1 near where Bay Street joined the Hwy. Low in the tall grass of the ditch Wayne throw out an old purse attached with a long cord into the middle of the ditch side lane of Hwy 1. You can imagine the humorous reaction when a man in an old rickety truck passed over the purse and immediately squealed his brakes stopping in the middle of the lane. The man the exited the truck cab in a full stride running back the in the direction he had come. He made it nearly to the stop light at the Old Leland road, which was over a half of a block away, before he turned and came back toward us. He zigzagged looking on the side of the hwy to the middle. As he approached us, we just got lower and were never discovered. The man stood a few feet from us for a long time scratching his head turning to look in all directions. The man returned to his truck cab. When we thought he had given up, he got out again and came to the rear of the truck. On his knees, he made a thorough search of the underside of his truck. After the man return to the truck cab, the truck seemed to leave ever so slowly and reluctantly.
Wayne will be missed as are all of our memorable classmates.