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I will not mention names in this story as some of the things that happened ended up in criminal court, and I would hate to have to defend myself from any charges.
Elliot Lake was founded around 1954 as the Uranium Capitol of the World, and Dad started hauling there soon after. However, it was not somewhere we went to often until 56 or 57 when a company we did a lot of work for started construction there.
There was a weigh scale at the Serpent River junction, but we didn't have any problems at the start. All our trucks were leased to the Construction Company, and each had a magnetic door sign with their company name.
One day the company phoned and said they needed two trucks which they would load on Saturday for Monday delivery. We were short a truck, so Len took one of the "Company" trucks, and Dad loaded the second load on his R model with our name on the door. Anyone who knew Dad knew his name was John, but he always signed everything Jno Bxxxxxxxxx which was on the door of his truck. Everything went great until we hit the scale at Serpent, and while Len was green-lighted, Dad was told to park and bring in all papers. I waited in the truck, and it was a long wait. We only had two Case tractor backhoe loaders, so I knew we were underweight. We did have quite a bit of snow and ice build-up on the truck and trailer, but I still knew we were under, so I wondered what was up.
Dad finally came out, and he was fuming. Seems like the scale operator had been in Dad's regiment during the war, and Dad had repeatedly reported him for theft, cowardice, and failure to perform until finally, after the Battle of the Bulge, Dad reported him to the MPs. When they arrested and searched him, they found 42 wedding rings and several gold and silver crosses hidden in his pack. Several of these proved to be off Canadian dead.
He ended up spending some time in the brig and was Dishonorably Discharged. Now he was saying the shoe was on the other foot, and either Dad could pay a $200.00 fine or he could remove all the ice and snow off his unit as it was unsafe. So Dad and I started shovelling, and when the scale operator went home for the night, he told Dad that if HE moved that truck, he would have the OPP arrest him, and Dad could spend some time behind bars. Dad swore he would not move the truck, and the scale operator left.
Thirty minutes later, the OPP arrived and talked to us. Shortly after they left, Len showed up and spoke to Dad and, when he learned what was up, came up with a solution. Dad would not move the truck but would walk over to Lens truck and take a nap. So Dad crawled in Lens sleeper, and Len and I hopped in the R model.
We went and delivered the load, and after we delivered, we dropped the trailer a couple of times and knocked all the snow and ice off. We then returned, and Dad crawled into his own bunk and settled down for the night.
Morning came, and Mr. Scale was banging on our door. Dad swore up and down that HE did not move the truck, and I backed him up. The OPP were called, and after a lot of he said, you said, we were allowed to leave. That was the last trip our R model took to that area, and while our B models cruised by weekly, they mostly got green-lighted.
Six months later, after many complaints and an undercover investigation, Mr. Scale was arrested and sentenced to a 3-year stay in the crowbar hotel.
