The Junk Man

Now here is a career that has disappeared! The Junk Man used to travel up and down the lanes of residential neighbourhoods in Vancouver. His loud, gruff voice would bellow over the sound of the bells that jingled on his horse's reins to let people know he was coming. The sound of his horse, clip - clopping along, pulling his old wagon behind is still burned in my brain. JUNK he would call out over and over, and women would rush out with stuff (recycleables today) to hand to him.

As a child I remember being afraid of this scruffy looking person who had every imaginable item hanging from his wagon, things rattled, the old horse whinnied, and he kept coming closer. I would run and hide in case he decided that I would make a perfect piece of junk for him to take with him. Of course, thinking about it now, I realize how silly that was. In the 50's and 60's life was so much simpler and strangers were so much less scary that they seem today.

Neighbourhood women would stand by their back fences and when he stopped they would hand him old lamps, broken wash boards, tin boxes - I don't think he paid anything for the treasures that he received, he just grunted, got back on his wagon and proceeded to the next house - yelling JUNK! I think he must have sold the metal to make a living for himself and/or his family.

As I grew past my early fears, I made sure my younger sister (5 years my junior) suffered the same fear that I did, only I took it a step further ... when she was naughty, according to my judgement anyway, I would tell her that the Junk Man was coming to get her and I would pick up the phone, hold the button down on the phone cradle and talk very sternly into the mouth piece.

"Please Mr Junk Man, come and pick up my little sister - she has been very bad today."

My young sister would run into our dining room and crouch under the table, hiding so the scary Junk Man would not find her. Thinking back, I say to myself, how cruel was that? Fortunately the Junk Man's call never coincided with the threats I laid on my little sister.

Today we are the best of friends and we talk about our shared memories of our childhood. This one always comes up and we can both laugh about it now!

My sister has added some extra information to this story:

There is some more to the story of the junk man. That junk man lived in the neighbourhood and was also My girlfriend's junk man just one street down. Her parents were always giving him “junk”..one year, at Christmas, the junk man gave THEM a gift…a lovely lamp…you know the type that was popular in the 60’s..the ones that were on poles and extended from floor to ceiling.

He lived in a nice house and had money….so you see….there was money in junk then, just as there is now…as you will see today from all the consignment shops, thrift stores and garage sales.