The How and Why Wonder Book of Railroads, 1964.

Écrit par Robert Scharff, illustré par George Zaffo. Retenez bien ce dernier nom.

Si on examine l’illustration de George Zaffo au microscope :

George Zaffo est un coquin. Tchoo-tchoo.

Last summer, hoodlums were making life miserable for west coast Canadian campers.

Police Ruin Innocent Man
…For Trying To Protect His Wife, Kids
by Alan Jarvis

Last summer, hoodlums were making life miserable for west coast Canadian campers. Time after time, the roughnecks swooped down on campsites, screaming obscene curses, throwing rocks and debris.
It got so bad that British Columbia government officials suggested that campers themselves should show more spunk in chasing off the hoodlums.
Les Copan, of Burnaby, B.C., took this advice on the night of July 22, — and what did it get him? Trouble, with a capital T!
For the next eight months Copan’s life became a nightmare. A nightmare that saw him thrown into jail and financially bankrupted. All because Copan tried to protect his wife and four children — Lee, 12, Mike, 11, Steve, 10, and Gail, 8.
That was the night the Copan clan pitched tent on the shore of Canim Lake at a campsite in the B.C. Interior, to begin a fun-holiday trip. The family was in a great mood; it was Les Copan’s 38th birthday.
After he received his presents, and the kids were tucked away in the tent, Les and his wife set about last-minute chores.
Suddenly, without warning, four hoodlums from a nearby construction camp appeared on the road above the camping grounds.
For no reason, they began shouting nasty threats at Copan and other family campers in the area.
When their obscene yells were ignored by the respectable citizens, who wanted to avoid trouble, the youths began throwing rocks and huge chunks of wood down onto the tent tops.
This couldn’t be ignored after a rock hit Mrs. Copan and scared the children from the tent. Copan and a second camper shouted to the boys to take off. More rocks and debris came as their reply. The more Copan shouted he’d had enough, the more the troublemakers laughed at him.
« I was worried for our safety, » Copan said. « I ran to the trunk of my car and got my .303 rifle! »
Seeing his wife and kids hiding in the tent and listening to the language of intruers above them proved too much for Les. « I aimed the rifle high, above where the boys stood laughing, and fired! » recalls Copan.
But the hoodlums only laughed louder. « Go ahead and shoot again, Mister — kill us, go ahead. We dare you! » shouted one young thug.
Copan fired a second shot! There was silence from above the road. The toughs disappeared.
Believing they had been driven away, Copan huddled his family back into the tent and retired himself, praying that the rest of the camping trip would be happier.
But the toughs wanted more trouble. Driving to a phone booth, they phoned the Royal Mounted Police at nearby 100 Mile House, a town on the Cariboo highway, to report that one of them had been shot by camper Copan.
Jack Henderson, 19, had been hit — by Copan’s second bullet, which had a cupronickel casing and had shattered when it hit a tree making a fragment strike Henderson in the jaw. But the wound turned out to be slight, though the RCMP didn’t know it at the time of the call.
« At about 5 a.m. I was awakened by Corporal Purdy of the 100 Mile House RCMP detachment, » says Copan. « After I dressed, I was led away, under arrest like a common criminal. I’ll never forget the look of fright in my wife’s eyes or how my kids stared at me! » says Les.
Though the RCMP were courteous and apologetic, they drove Copan to their station 26 miles away and booked him into a cell, charged him with assault causing bodily harm. « I stayed in that cell till 10 the next morning, » he recalls. « I couldn’t believe it was happening! »
In court, the hoodlums pleaded guilty to charges of creating a disturbance and were fined $200 each, and walked away. But bail for Copan was set at $500 cash that morning!
(…) « Worried sick, we headed home to Burnaby. My husband was so concerned about the black mark on his record. He’s such a respected citizen in our town! »
(…) At the Sept. 9 trial, the judge indicated sympathy, too, when he convicted Copan on a lesser charge of common assault and fined him only $50.
But, for Copan, his fight was just beginning. He was determined to appeal the conviction and clear the criminal mark from his personal record. (…) « It would’ve been easy at this stage to just say ‘okay, I’ll forget the appeal,’ and try to get back on my feet, » says Copan. « But my nose had been clean for 38 years and a criminal record could hurt me in many ways for years to come. I was determined to get it off the books! »
He did. On March 26, ’65, an end came to Copan’s months of sleepless nights, when three Appeal Court judges ruled that Les Copan be acquitted of common assault.
Says the man whose record was wiped clean: « The judges recognized that my family was being assaulted and that I shot in self defence. A man has a right to defend his family and not be punished for it for the rest of his life! »

Midnight, May 24, 1965.

Incoming search terms:

Prière de ne pas demander à ces dames ce qu’elles ont derrière la tête. On en a une bonne idée et elles aussi, surtout celle de droite !

A naval battle gets under way with male combatants riding Aquabelles. The jousters here are Socialites Percy Melville and Arthur Baker. In wintertime Arthur Baker likes to play squash.

Life, 8 septembre 1941.

Incoming search terms:

Failed Driving Tests for 26 Years! Pedestrians wonder what Miss Hunter is up to.

Scares Traffic Cops to Death!

There is nobody in the world who drives a car quite like Miss Margaret Hunter — thank God. She is the world’s worst driver. She is so bad that an instructor who tried to improve her driving jumped out of her car screaming: « This is suicide. It’s madness. »
Miss Hunter, who is 66, had her first driving lesson 26 years ago. She gave up learning a year later when no instructors would go out with her any more.
She started again three years ago and quickly worked her way through all five driving schools near her home at Oakmere, Cheshire, England.
At the fifth and last school she was put in the care of Stan Davenport, a specialist at getting the best from the worst drivers and a man who had never been known to show fear. He explained to startled watchers: « I have my family to think of. It would be lunacy to travel another inch with that woman. » He gave up his job as an instructor and even left the district to keep out of Miss Hunter’s path.

(…) In a car decorated with four L-plates to show she was a learner and a sign saying: « Be proud of your driving ability, » she took another test. Things did not go too badly until she started driving the wrong way down a one-way street. She took the sidewalk again to get out of trouble.
Her comment afterwards: « I don’t think I should have failed. Everybody else seemed confused but I was cool as a cucumber. »

Miss Hunter was tired of it all by this time so she journeyed down to Southern Ireland, where driving licences are issued without tests. She established residence there and bought one. This licence entitled Miss Hunter to drive on the roads of England — and almost every other country in the world — and she returned home to Cheshire and began to menace the local populace from behind a steering wheel.

Source: Midnight, May 24, 1965.

Incoming search terms:

Dépêchez-vous, c’est jusqu’à épuisement des stocks ou arrestation du propriétaire.

Illegal Pills
Ray M. Jones, age 27, is an enterprising young man who specializes in selling to high school and university students. What he sells, however, are stimulant or pep pills. Jones has a huge stock of these illegal pills at 1101 W. 91st St., and 842 W. 83rd St., Los Angeles. He should be closed up by the police immediately!!!

1965.