My One and Only Arrest

McCormick Park was a large open green space between Shirley Street School and Alexandra Muir School on Gladstone Avenue — concrete paths, hillocks, trees, and playground swings. Today it contains a ball park, wading pool, bocce court, and a container café. In my day, it was where the gangs and the latchkey kids hung out after school.

The kids who roamed free

The latchkey kids came from working-class families whose parents weren’t home at the end of the day — working, in the military, or raising children alone. With few alternatives, these parents entrusted their children to the streets. I often envied them. They seemed to have an unscripted life, contrary to mine.

By the time I was twelve, I’d entered my rebellious phase — or as rebellious as my parents would allow. After eight years of Royal Conservatory piano lessons, I quit music and devoted more time to the street.

After nine o’clock

This was the late 1950s and early 1960s, when Toronto police imposed nighttime curfews to curb youth crime. Adolescents under eighteen were not allowed in public spaces after 9. The police knew the hangout places and regularly roamed the parks, alleyways, schoolyards, and parking lots. Being “arrested” generally meant being taken home to your parents. I was twelve when it happened to me.

It was a hot summer evening. Lucy, Kathy, and I were out in the neighbourhood having a good time and lost track of the hour. When we finally noticed how late it was, we cut through McCormick Park to get home — and ran into a group of boys. An innocent enough exchange, some talking and jokes. But it was after nine. As we were leaving, a police car pulled up, asked us questions, and drove us home.

I remember the lecture clearly. The officer told my parents sternly about the wicked world of crime and the slippery slope I was on. My parents looked appropriately stern in return, promising immediate action — which meant a month of being grounded, off the street, under strict supervision. The punishment stung. But my fear of becoming a criminal was perhaps a worse alternative.