Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Along with my parents, Elroy and Yvette Easton, I would like to extend my sincerest sympathy to the Thorson family upon hearing of Tommy's passing. Though we lost touch over the years, we all have many fond memories of those days when our two families got together. My parents tell me that my Dad began his long career with the City of Calgary in large part because of Tommy's doing.
My own sharpest memory of Mr. Thorson is from a day that didn't go too well for him. Dad and Tommy had decided that we (both fathers, along with Donnie, Doug, and myself) should go pheasant hunting one fall Saturday. Donnie and his dad arrived about 4:30 a.m. that October morning to pick us up. A block from our home, we sat for over a minute in the dead darkness of the morning at a red light that we knew would not change for another 3 or 4 minutes. There was no other car on the road. Anywhere. So, after a short debate, Tommy carefully proceeded through the intersection. Immediately, a cop turned on his lights and charged out of the nearby gas station from where he had been hiding. Busted!
No amount of reasoning or pleading by Tommy or my Dad could get us out of a hefty ticket. But, Tommy handled it well, though we were all pretty incensed at the injustice of the situation. It was a harbinger of what was to follow.
After a long drive to the south east, we found a promising looking coulee. Doug and Donnie were about 16 or 17 and would be allowed to shoot; I was along because we didn't have a dog!
Donnie and Tommy took the top ridge; Doug, Dad and I hiked down to the valley bottom with the plan to flush any pheasants toward the ridge. Suddenly, a pheasant flew up in front of us and veered sharply to the right as it gained distance and elevation. The boys were not very experienced hunters, and Donnie and Tommy were several hundred yards away high on the ridgeline. By the time Doug's aim had caught up with the pheasant, we were facing back from where we came - at the top of the hill. Bam. Fortunately, Tommy was far enough away that all he felt were a few pellets, one which broke the skin on his chin. Poor Doug had missed the pheasant, but not missed Mr. Thorson. Of course, Doug felt terrible. It was an accident that might have turned out worse.
And, Tommy wasn't too terribly pleased about it either. It had been that kind of day. But, there was no real harm done, and no scolding and no hard feelings. Once again, Tommy showed his patient, forgiving nature. Later, we all laughed about it. Mr. Thorson's response to this second injustice had left quite an impression on this 13 year old boy. Oddly, I really don't remember whether or not we shot any actual birds.
We'll all miss him; but, we all have many fond memories of Tommy and family, too. Take care.
Rick Easton
