Tom was born into a sports-addicted family (his own words), in 1920, a Christmas Day present for Milton & Beatrice, Clifford, Edna and John, with Evelyn to come later. He spent his childhood attending school - to grade 8! And tending to chores on one of those rock farms near Spiritwood in northen Saskatchewan - at Bapaume to be precise.
As in most rural areas, the entire community viewed sporting events of all variety and opportunity to compete as major events. Tom was a willing and able participant (we hear he used to be able to run) and usually claimed his share of local bragging rights. Along with older brothers Cliff and Johnny, Tom became a regular member of the local men’s hockey and baseball teams at age 14, playing against neighboring towns and traveling to bigger centers to compete (often successfully) in tournaments. It was around the same time that he first tried his hand at pitching shoes. That determination and competitive spirit which you may have noticed has always burned. He played on the first line of the hockey team (seems the 2nd, 3rd & 4th lines never showed up), and once did severe damage to a tractor (not to mention his body) while chasing down a fly ball in center field of Saskabush Stadium. But, sadly, the Majors had put a ban on center fielder/base - stealers from Bapaume, so we never got to cheer for Tommy while listening to the wireless at World Series time; and he never got a nickname like all the Willies from the Bronx; and he never ever did perfect his spitting technique. But...there was always horseshoes.
Life in Bapaume was great!!...OK?. Not TOO bad?. Bearable...well, to tell the truth it was just... (can we say that? guess not). But, there was that sort of, you know, “interesting” new school marm in town...nice lines, good teeth...a 7, at least. Bearable, I guess. Life in Bapaume was bearable. And then that silly skirmish over in Europe kicked up, and Tom, being a fine patriotic young fellow, joined up. Now some of you may be thinking that was pretty stupid, but if you consider that it was a choice between that and the rock farm, you’ll surely understand - no contest, schooll marm or not! So off to boot camp, parade square, dumb - ass drill sergeant, KP duty, etc., and lands in the Postal Corps in Ottawa (that higher education can come in handy), awaiting call to duty overseas, which came more than once, but fortunately was revoked on each occasion.
Horseshoes was one of the recreational activities at the base, and Tom must have found lots of time to practice, because when tournament time rolled around, he managed to top a field of 164 entrants in single loss singles competition. The army immediately called the Commissioner of Baseball for advice on how to go about banning him. It didn’t really bother Tom. After all, there’s only so much satisfaction to be gained from kicking the stuffing out of the sarge at a farmers’ game, and besides, he had other things on his mind.
There was something about that school marm...8 1/2 or 9 maybe. To make a long story short - furlough, back home, hitch her up, back to Ottawa, and it was all over but the shouting for poor Tommy... A moment’s silence.
Oh, by the way, her name is Jean (Munsell). It wasn’t long before the first of the stair steps was on the way (we all make mistakes) and the referee finally stepped in and put a stop to the altercation in Europe which had threatened to get out of hand for a while, and the army was forced to reduce their roster (“downsizing” they call it these days). They started by getting rid of the bad attitudes, and Tom was instantly unemployed. (Those sergeants have a way of getting back at you). The winters in Ottawa were nearly as bad as in Bapaume (Tom told us once that they had to replace the thermometer each spring because it would get so cold in January that the mercury would disappear, never to return). During his stint in the army, Tom & Jean had visited relatives on the west coast, and had noticed that the seasons were different there - 80 degrees in April, the thermometers were really old models still in perfect working order, and there were a few things to do besides farming rocks. So they grabbed the first train headed west, stopping to visit in Sask. for 30 seconds at least - destination Victoria.
Well another five stair steps and the fun that goes with them, business responsibilities, homeowner chores, etc. put a crimp in Tom’s sporting activities. But, he still found time for a little bowling, curling and golf when his spare time wasn’t completely taken up with coaching, managing and executive duties in minor baseball. After 25 years with local and provincial bodies the Victoria and District Baseball Assoc. recognized Tom’s service when he was made an honorary life member in 1981. (He finally made the Big Leagues after all.)
Somewhere along the way - about 1973 - he must have heard that old familiar clank...clank of a solid double and decided to investigate. The Victoria Horseshoe Club, a handful of enthusiasts, had just moved into their new digs at Glanford Park and was struggling to build and improve the organization and its facilities. Guess that love of competition and the camaraderie that goes with it never wanes. Tom got involved, and has been a mainstay of the club and the sport in general ever since.
1974 was the start of 12 consecutive years as a member of the executive of the Victoria club, including the presidency from 1978 to 1984. He has attempted several times to cut back his involvement, but never seems to be able to get away with it, and currently finds himself treasurer of the club...again. In addition to executive duties with the Victoria club, Tom served ten years on the executive of the B.C. Horseshoe Assoc., during which time he was instrumental in creating the B.C.H.S. Hall of Fame. He has acted as B.C. rep on the Canadian Hall of Fame committee for the past 10 or 12 years. He has consistently taken a lead role in organizing and hosting major tournaments, and we think everyone is aware of the reputation that has been established by the Victoria club for putting on a first - rate function. Of particular note are the 1982 and 1994 Canadians and the 1985 Fiftieth Anniversary tournaments.
Tom’s business know-how, extensive experience in organizing and developing minor sport and willingness to commit the required time and energy has proven invaluable. The Victoria club has grown from meager beginnings to become one of the finest organizations of its kind in the country. With such a solid foundation it seems inevitable that the sport will continue to flourish in this part of the country. In 1993 the Victoria Horseshoe Club honored Tom with a life membership. But enough of that. Back to the important stuff. Tom was always a tough competitor, and won his share of this and that. By the time he had got over that ugly stair step business, recovered his sanity and rediscovered ‘shoes, he was finding that some of the young whippersnappers were giving him a little trouble (though he hated to admit it). And those many many hours of throwing batting practice had taken their toll. But every now and then, when everything felt just right, he could get on a roll that would have had Elmer himself shaking in his boots (must have been drugs). He still pitches a few shoes - cheats a step or two - and still gives the odd opponent a scare or better. If you get a chance to play him, try to remember that if it weren’t for a few like him we might have a hard time finding a place to play or anybody to play with, and if you are feeling in a generous mood, maybe let him win one. (But for Pete’s sake, don’t let him know).
Ken Hawkins (June 1997)
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