Strathcona Men's Christmas Dinner

It was 20 years ago that I met Scotty at the club on 7th.  He invited me to come out to Strathcona Men’s Meeting Thursday evening. I came. I felt so welcome.  They say it’s a bit ‘rough’. Mostly it’s compared with Shaughnassey Men’s.  I’ve been to Shaughnnassey’s. Nice group there too. But I never saw bikers there. At Strathcona there was that “healthy mix”  I really liked.  Carpenters and professors. Doctors and bikers. Rich and poor. Educated and street smart.
In later years there were always a few of us who’d drive up in summer on our Harley’s. We liked to park beside Malcolm’s Jaguar.  Several of the guys drove pick ups.  Ken’s was the finest. You had to imagine that antique causing a Cuban man to faint with desire. It was that splendid a machine.  As time went on you’d see the increasing self care extend naturally to the machines.
At the break we’d go out side, some to smoke, all of us to look and talk about the machines.  Ganesh had his BMW later years.  Mostly everyone had better wheels the longer they stayed.  I’m driving a 2017 Ford F350 Lariat edition truck now along with the Harley. . The guys got tired of hearing me complain about losing my Toyota sport truck early years.
Sometimes guys would talk about their girl friends or wives. Mostly they talked about their children. I talked about ex's and abortion.  At least I didn’t have court orders.  Some guys talked about being raped. A few guys had been in jail.  Several owned businesses.  More and more talked about buying houses, marriages, babies, diplomas. We often went for coffee or meals after. I loved the meetings after the meetings.  There were lots of birthdays celebrated at the Chinese restaurants on fourth.
Every Thursday night we’d gather together, mostly to laugh and weep.  A whole lot of humble soul searching too.  We didn’t hug.  We shook hands. There was Sarge. He had a way about reminding us.  Ted was there too. Brian and Ed. Bob was there when he wasn’t out east. I loved Scotty and Malcolm for their honesty.  Paul usually brought along someone new.
Some guys even moved away and still made the effort to make it there.  I did for a bit when I moved to North Vancouver.   I liked the stories most. James and Darryl,  Darren and Mike. I forget all the names but I don’t forget the stories.  Some were just too poignant.
All the guys kept me coming. When it was dark, really dark, there was a sacred light in that basement.  A cup of coffee and some other guy usually hurting more or telling about having a new child. His wife and he were back again.  We celebrated misfortune and fortune equally.
And every Christmas we’d invite the girls to come in. Strathcona Men’s was never politically correct. No one cared how you told the truth just so long as you did.
We’d have this major pot luck meal.  A big feast. Turkey, ham, potatoes, salads, cakes and pies. It was always something out of a Christmas cooking magazine.  A Rockwell Christmas Card.  Guys would put in money and food and time.  Some of the guys with the roughest hands would even twist Christmas table decorations. Reds and greens and tinsel. Little shiny things that brightened up the tables and added to the light of the  Christmas tree.  There was a lot of pride that went into that Christmas dinner.
Everyone remembered where they had been or where we’d been going before.  We were so very thankful to be a part of something that was so special that the women and guests were ever amazed.  I had tears in my eyes some years.  And yes I made a moose chilli one year to add to the table. Another year there was the scallop potato special that a grandfather was much loved for.  As time went on each guy had some unique contribution.  It wasn’t just the progress of a year that was being celebrated. Often it was the very existence of life.
There was a mixed meeting, something that room only knew that one time each year.  The ladies sure were great with gratitude. And the guys were all spiffed up.  That was the one night ‘suit up and show up’ was readily apparent.  Everyone who contributed thought of mothers, sisters, wives, daughters and girlfriends in the best of ways. And those ladies were present radiating pride and gratitude. So many families and relationships restored.  A lot of talk of parents and sharing of  good memories.
Then we all lined up smorgasbord style in that church basement.  Plates overflowing with goodness and love.  We sat at long tables on folding metal chairs. We ate with joy.  What a feast!
This year was no different.  Maybe a smaller gathering. Others were having their dinners.  After a decade and a half of coming religiously to these meetings I’d moved away and grown older and couldn’t get across town at night as easily.  I was thankful for the reminder and invitation.  Being there again was simply wonderful.  There were also the "same time next year crowd" from the Valley, people who’d moved east after years at Strathcona.   We all reminisced.  Old and young had passed away.
We say the door swings both ways but sometimes, especially these last couple of years, the young find it difficulty making their way back.
I’m older now. It’s 20 years.  This was my beginning and these men were all my mentors.  I’m so grateful.  I certainly wouldn’t have bet I’d still be still coming back 20 years later.  Strathcona Men’s has that effect.  It’s been helping men for more than 60 years now.
Merry Christmas Strathcona Men’s.   Thank you.