History Repeats Itself - Kind Of

Many, many, many years ago, like over 110 years ago, my great-grandfather was sent from England, as a Bernardo's Boy, to Canada. Why? Well...

He had been kicked out of his home when he was 13 or so by his step-father. His father was dead. He roamed the streets of London, with a lot of other kids/boys. It was fairly common. He hung out in the train stations and helped the men who worked the trains, the conductors, the cleaners, the ticket sellers, the mechanics, all of that. And one day, he and a friend decided it would be fun to take a train and 'drive' it a bit. They'd done this before, under supervision, but this time was without supervision. They got caught, rehomed to orphanages and great-granpa got sent to Canada. He was basically an indentured servant, or a slave, working on a farm in eastern Canada. He hated that servitude, so he ran away and joined up with some electricians putting up the first cross Canada electricity lines. He helped them in any way he could, basically doing menial chores, setting up camp, making dinner, cleaning and so on. They appreciated him and taught him how to be an electrician as they worked across Canada. By the time they were moving across the western, but not coastal, area of Canada (eastern BC, western Alberta), he was an electrician as well, going up the poles, putting up the lines, doing all the stuff. And that's where he met my great grandma. He was up the pole and he looked down, saw her walking down the street and decided that was HIS woman. And so she was.

Interior of a London Underground Train, 1911, from this article in Monovisions about the early days of London underground trains.