Greg Moore:  

Life The whole story: I went to many schools, but my first was Northdale Public. I went there from kindergarten through grade six with the exception of grade four which I spent in Ottawa. My teachers from public school in order were Mrs Desjardines who insisted we pronounce it "dez-jar-dinz" followed by Mrs. Fiegel, (Mrs Seagull, teehee,) Mrs Hayden-Kraemer, Mrs Signer who was there for the start of all the trouble. My grade four teacher Ms Bonnell in Ottawa was da bomb as far as teachers go. Grade five was Mr. Simms. All the girls swooned over him. Grade six was another great teacher, Mr. Burrell. He put me in an extracurricular activity class and made my enjoyment of school raise to the level of tolerant. I wasn't exactly a model student. Most of my class time I was bored and unchallenged. Grade seven was a year I wouldn't wish on any kid. My teacher was mentally and physically abusive. He once threw me over two rows of desks. I got in a lot of trouble that year and I believe most of it was due to the evil Mr. Gardner. Ironically, he was "Candy The Clown" as a side job. Some clown. In grade eight I moved out to the countryside. A bus ride to school, a totally different lifestyle and new friends didn't help me enjoy school any better. However I had discovered girls. Thank you Melanie, Kim, Shannon and the others that made me think that life wasn't hell. The first three years of high school were not fun. I had more enemies than friends and school was uninteresting and unchallenging. I survived because my best friend lived across the road. He and I stirred up our share of trouble and had a great time. You rock Owen! :) My last year of high school I spent in Ann Arbor Michigan. It was the first time since grade six I actually enjoyed school again. Classes starting at 7:20 am wasn't ideal, but the variety of classes I took and great teachers was enough to keep me happy. Unfortunately, the second term I choose the wrong courses, got bored and dropped out in April. That decision would impact my life more than anyone could have predicted. I moved back to Canada, got a job and enjoyed the freedom of a bit of money, an easy schedule and a big house to invite my friends to party at. I enjoyed that life for about a month. On June 6, 1987, on my way home from town, I met Owen on the side of the road as he was headed to town with his girlfriend. I asked them what they were up to and he said they were going to Dairy Queen and I asked if they would mind if I joined them. Nope. Cool. "See you there," I said. I wouldn't. Those would be my last words as an innocent kid. I was on my dads motorcycle and turned around to head to DQ. I was heading through the intersection of Fischer-Hallman Rd and Columbia St. at 5:06 pm and so was Jerry Bolce. Neither of of us made it through. He had turned in front of my path and the only path for m...Expand for more