Hemlock
He had kind of made up his mind that he was going to cut Hemlock, a low plant that grows in the woods. There was some out in my woods in the Glen. After a few days I took him out to look over the woods. He made arrangements with a buyer and started to cut Hemlock. Some days, he cut five or six bags (not bad) and other days a bag and a bit. One day he came home walking, his car got hung up on a cradle hill and got stuck with the front wheels in the air; he got out and the car was still in gear; his doors locked and he could not get in. He finally had to break a window to get the door open to shut the engine off.
After some time, I noticed light colored clay under his car and I was not familiar with where it had come from. I asked Reggie and he would not tell me, then he started coming home with the car washed. I kind of figured that he was growing pot some place. I have since discovered the same light clay on the Bull Creek Road. They stopped buying Hemlock in early July. They were supposed to start up again in September but they never did, so this was a loss of income.
His eating habits were always different than the rest of us, but by the last of October, he was not eating very much – just picking. We would barbeque three or four times a week, mostly hamburgers, hot dogs and steak. Regardless of what were having, he would always want his cooked to death, so at the last of it I would tell him to finish his food off. He never seemed to want to eat with us, and if he did, he would not carry on a conversation with the rest of us.
He went to Charlottetown once a week to get library books and would usually come home with a Pizza or buy some in Souris. By the last of October, he seemed to stop eating pretty well everything. He liked IGA fresh bread.
In early September, Maritime Electric and I cut down five big Maple trees. I asked Reggie to give me a help cleaning these up, blocking and cleaning up the brush and hauling it out to Greenvale. HE was a good worker and a great help to me. Reggie and I did a great deal of talking. He told me quite a bit about his life, he did not have it easy, a lot of what he told me was verified by the journals he left scattered over the place.
He was an avid reader and usually every week or two got anywhere from two to six books from the library, mostly in Charlottetown. Thee were three books in his car when it was found.
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