Neville’s Crossing No, this is not a story about passing into the life beyond, but rather a story about enduring friendship in the face of blatant thievery. Yes, really. Steve and I were developing our property in Kenora in the late 1980s. This was a time when piles of gravel and big old culverts were things of envy (and necessity). So imagine Steve’s delight when he spotted this beautiful old culvert just sitting there alongside Ken’s old storage building on Main Street serving no purpose. Ken was away fishing but coincidentally called while we were visiting Judy. Steve advised that he needed that old culvert for our long driveway and Ken emphatically made clear that he himself might need that culvert one day so leave it alone. Steve’s response was that Ken would never use it and he was taking it. The conversation went back and forth like two little kids with Ken telling him to leave his culvert alone and Steve telling Ken that there wasn’t much Ken could do about it since he was hundreds of kilometres away and that it was being loaded as they spoke. “I’m taking it”. “No, you’re not”. “I’m taking it”. No, you’re not!” With Judy looking confused and bemused and Ken still yelling into the phone, Steve advised Ken that “I’ll name my road after you” and hung up. And so the newly carved “Neville’s Crossing” sign greeted everyone who visited us for next 15 years. It was mounted to a tree above Ken’s coveted culvert that allowed road access to our property. It was the first official sign installed in this area and so it was that Neville’s Crossing became part of the neighborhood folklore and memories of the property’s early development. And all our neighbors knew of Ken even before they met him. If you search under all the stuff in Ken’s garage now, you might find that old sign! With fond memories, Cathy Garrett