was only three when my parents began the first refreshment pavilion in Stanley Park and in their eight years as proprietors I grew to become part of the unspoiled glorious forest wonderland.

Each day until I started school I was taken with parents and brothers from our home in Fairview in our horse and buggy along Beach Drive past English Bay where so often we would be greeted by the beloved "Old Joe" Fortes who, if in the water, always waved a welcome, most often by waving his white-soled feet as he was swimming to amuse us children. Sometimes we would go by Denman Street then across the old wooden bridge with "Old Torn" our horse, his hooves echoing through the park warning any staff on hand of our approach onto the wooden planks up the Pipeline to the Pavilion.

The park belonged to my brothers and me and each day brought new discoveries. Each year I understood more of the beauties that surrounded me.

We were a large family when school was out most of my brothers and my sister were there all with chores to do- holidays we used the Democrat to transport the little ones while my bigger brothers rode their bicycles.

In 1907, when I was six, my youngest brother was born and of course he was named Stanley. He later rose to the most senior of positions with SUN Life Insurance.

Now I would like to dive into the memories of those carefree days.

The Malkin Bowl now sits on the site of that first pavilion which was rustic in .design with a fenced rustic tea garden. Guarding the approach like lions were two large logs at least 6 feet across cut from some giant of the forest which once covered all the park. These were much admired by tourists. On summer Sundays, close by, was the band stand, a focal point for one and all in their finery of the day. Many picnics were held on lawns close to the pavilion where my father supplied picnic tables and benches set white linen table cloths for 10 cents a head. Huge urns of tea and coffee, sugar and cream, as well as ice cream were also served for an extra 5 cents. The orphanages and churches were regular customers.

Music was heard throughout the park from my father's gramophone, an EDISON, with a huge polished brass horn (we children could be covered with it) held out on a tripod. Cylinder records of martial music and many stirring songs. It has been said that when the wind was right the music could be heard as far away as the CPR wharf.

While the Pavilion was a hive of activity, we children would be free to explore and play under the guidance of "Dolly" a friend who came to look after us. So much to see and to do. The swings and the monkey cages near the approach to the park by the picturesque caretaker's cottage - Sandy and Mrs. McNeil were known to thousands.

The animal enclosures claimed many hours, and just behind the swings and " teeters " were the beavers, timber wolves, bears and coyote. How I remember the terrifying din that was set up by the wolf and coyotes every time the tugboat TEES blew her whistle announcing her arrival in the harbour.

Perhaps we would walk as far as the old Yacht Club, past the 9 o'clock gun, deer, elk and shaggy buffalo paddocks and the few cottages still occupied by the Spanish settlers' descendants. Then there was Deadman's Island. My brothers were always ready to tell me of its gory past, greatly embellished to frighten a small girl. Little did I think I would return to the park many years later in 1947 as the wife of the Commanding Officer of Her Majesty's Canadian Ship DISCOVERY, it was like going home.

NOTE: In 1993 Captain and Mrs. Stacey's younger son Raymond, a Navy Lt. Commander, came to serve in DISCOVERY as the Regular Support Staff Officer to the Reserve Naval Division.

Perhaps we would take the trail as far as Brockton Point Oval, eating our fill of salmonberries, huckle and thimble berries that were abundant at times. Often, Jim and Tom my young brothers were dispatched to Mr. Jones, the lightkeeper's home, to get fresh eggs which we carried home in a lard pail. It seemed a long way for small children to go and we would search behind logs and stumps for bears (like all children afraid of the unknown). We might just paddle around the beach at the foot of the Pavilion gathering kelp or finding small crabs and starfish.

Another outing might be to the narrows where Lumbermen's Arch is now and where "Old Aunt Sally" the elderly Indian lady lived in her fenced cottage with its gnarled apple trees. I can still remember my parents and our friends indignity over the eviction notice those in power served the old lady- and the blessing of the Lord that took her on the eve of her eviction. I believe their object was to create an Indian area in the park, totem poles and all- what more original than Old Aunt Sally herself?

I shall always remember being dressed in a fine white embroidered dress with a blue sash to watch the carriage carrying the Duke and Duchess of Connaught around the park. The Mayor had borrowed my father's Beaver Hat. It was all spoiled for my brothers and I because while waiting we decided to play on the floats and I fell in and nearly drowned. Such a stir that caused! My brother Herman rescued me and carried a tearful and sodden mess to my mother's soothing arms to be dried like a sodden kitten.

Finding a dead bird was always an occasion for a funeral. A cigar box lined with leaves and fern was interred under a tree, flowers laid on the grave.

Sometimes my older brothers would go to Beaver Lake, too far for me to walk, they would return with hands filled with water lilies and their feet soaked.

y oldest brother, Fred, being adventurous, decided to see the rest of BC and my father bought him a sealing schooner called "LULU" and it was moored in the bay in front of the Pavilion. He made many trips with his crew and when that ship was lost he obtained another similar and called it PRINCESS VICTORIA. The little ships brought an assortment of crew of many nationalities and they were constant visitors and were fed in the large kitchen. They provided extra Sunday help as well.

The love of the sea stayed with Fred and he became a deep-sea Captain and later retired as Chief Marine Surveyor of BC.

Another family living in the park was the HARRIS family (in charge of the water main). The beautiful HARRIS girl could be seen daily walking past to and from school and during the big cougar scare, sometimes at night sought an escort from among my numerous brothers to walk the lonely roads to their home near Prospect Point. The cougar that was at large put fear in our hearts. Even my brothers joined Mr. Owens, the park's night watchman, in all night vigils by the deer paddock. It was a great reIief when it was finally shot and mounted. It. later graced the new Pavilion dining room, built in 1912.

The park was patrolled by the City Police in those days. Most memorable was Constable W.H. Long, later Chief of Police. Such a thorough gentleman who became a life-long family friend. Before the police became mounted they rode bicycles and were always welcome in the kitchen to join the family for tea or lunch. I was given a ride often on the police horse by the constables when their duties permitted. I wonder where they are now? DUNN, MILNE (Jock), CHAMPION, OLIVER. Always a cheery word for a little girl.

Such an exciting place to live. The huge kitchen bustling with help, the most devoted being two young ladies from North Vancouver, Leah and Irene. I do not know who was more frightened one quiet day, the wooden floor has just been scrubbed and the back door was open to help in the drying. I walked in to discover a young deer busily engaged in eating from the huge container of candy, the Christmas stocking kind. The poor deer tried so hard to keep its footing on the wet floor as it skidded out the door to freedom.

Summer weekends were very busy and hectic. Supplies arriving to take care of the huge crowds that would corne. ALMOND'S Ice Cream truck would arrive with its large tubs of ice cream to be put in the ice house. I was fascinated to watch the salting of the crushed ice. There were no freezers in those days. The bakery wagon with its long sandwich loaves, fruit cake "and plain cake". The sandwich women slicing loaf after loaf for ham sandwiches. The hundreds of bags of peanuts to be sacked. I often joined my brothers in that chore. A tumbler full into each sack. The peanut wagon to be loaded and taken to the stand behind MCNIEL'S cottage beside the monkey cages. The waitress washing down the garden tables and benches and sweeping the much trodden earth garden floor with twig brooms. Such a lot of help needed to serve the crowds inside and out and of course the gramophone going until the Sunday band concert started.

nother big day when I was six was my sister Emily's wedding day in the Pavilion. The floral decorations, the huge long tab1es set for the wedding breakfast and the carriage and white horses to take the bride and groom (Bert Avery) away, I was a flower girl and carried a basket of flowers from the MCNIEL garden, The service was conducted under a flower arch and I and a cousin hid under the tables and were able to remove quite a few of the silver candy balls from the cake.

There were many raccoons in the park in those days. They were not very popular as they continually upset garbage pails. I believe my brothers were successful with the odd trap. I certainly remember that my sister and I had lovely raccoon collars with muffs to match. One scary night riding home in our buggy our brown Spaniel TIGE was badly mauled by a huge raccoon. One night my brothers Cyril and Arthur were sleeping in the store room- there had been prowlers- when they were awakened by shouting and pounding it was the night watchman in a pitched battle with an old raccoon!

There were many distinguished visitors to the park and many would corne and chat with my parents. ROBERT SERVICE was said to have sat in the garden writing his works.

I must not to forget to mention the kindness of DAVE KEDDIE, a young gardener, when he heard I was to play piano solo at a church concert he presented me with three beautiful hyacinths as a corsage. How could any ten year old forget that. People had time for the simple pleasures. Their kindness to me will always be remembered.

When I was old enough I would often go to the park on the streetcar as soon as school was out, changing cars at the old Post Office, fares were five cents.

I remember the Queen Victoria fountain near the entrance with its two cups dangling from a heavy chain. It was set upon a sloping hill and as children we took great pleasure in rolling down like logs counting the turns as in a competition. I remember as well the carbon carriage lights being lit and carbide bicycle lights and the bicycle races around the park.

The visits to the old carter and Mrs. JONES in their cottage near the Shakespeare Gardens. She would always give me Moss Roses for my mother, her favourite- the hurried trips to the MCNIEL cottage for thyme and parsley to stuff a fresh salmon for family dinner. Friends like the TAYLOR'S and MILLERS from Fairview the IRWINS, FOWLERS, BLAKELEYS and MILLIGANS.

I remember my brothers Fred and Herman bujlding an aeroplane, tethering it in the grounds of the RVYC to test their motor. It was eventually stored in the HOFFAR'S boat house and was unfortunately lost when the boat house was destroyed by fire.

It was just before we left Stanley Park that King Edward died. I remember with what patriotic pride and grief my father draped in crepe the photo of the King and hung it in front of the Pavilion as a sign of respect for his Monarch.

"Old Tom's Loose!" How many times do I remember my brothers and the police chasing our old brown horse, playing cowboys until he was recovered.

Giving a birthday party for a school friend I was allowed to take my friends for a drive in the horse and buggy to Second Beach and back. One of my guests, Barbara, later to marry my oldest brother Fred had recently arrived from England and wasn't used to our concoctions of sodas and sundaes and after consuming several spent an uncomfortable afternoon and evening.

My parents had built a thriving business. Alas, when I was eleven, our lease on the concession expired and was not renewed as my father had been led to believe it would be for the new Pavilion. It was a sad day for me as I would no longer be able to roam free and call the park my very own. How changed it all is now. I remember my parents telling me they opened the Pavilion actually under a tent as the Park Board had not completed the Pavilion in time for the opening.

It was quite obvious after nearly eight years and growing customers that a larger pavilion was needed and I was so thrilled when the Park Board assumed my parents would build a new pavilion for them. I was too young at the time to realize that my parents were very trusting and were not politicians and my heart felt broken when our lease was not renewed. A competitor on the other side of the bridge outside of the park was made manager of the new Pavilion. His term was not long. It was a lesson for even a ten year old.