Vet, 90, booted from Legion
OLD SAILOR RUNS AFOUL OF HOUSE RULES ON PROMOTING EVENTS
It was a long, humiliating ride home in a London police cruiser for Second World War veteran Bob Hanson. For 70 of the sailor’s 90 years, he’s been heading off to local Royal Canadian Legion branches to meet up with his buddies, swap war stories, listen to music and dance.
But last November, Hanson was banned f or 180 days — a long time when you’re 90 — from the Legion’s Victory branch 317 in London for breaking its rules.
His infraction? Handing out business card- sized flyers of a country music band schedule he’d set up at another London club.
The events were scheduled at the same time the Legion had its own music nights.
Then it got worse. After he was banned f or band promotion, and lost an appeal, Hanson headed down to the Legion on a Saturday night, wanting to talk to one of the Legion’s executive.
Instead, t he bar steward said he was trespassing and called the police. Everyone saw it. Even the police officer, Hanson said, “was disgusted.”
And so, the recently widowed veteran of the Royal Canadian Navy was unceremoniously escorted home in a cop car to his senior’s apartment.
“The situation as to why he was banned had to do with clubhouse rules and conduct,” said Brian Harris, the executive member who handled t he discipline. “And being a military man, I would have thought Bob would understand that.”
But there’s more to the tale than just rule- breaking.
And you have to know a little bit more about Hanson. Some would call him spun ky; others, feisty. Everyone would say he holds strong opinions.
There are things about the way the Legion is run that he doesn’t like. In protest, he stopped paying a membership.
Probably the only thing close to criminal he’s ever done is to lie about his age to sign up with the navy at 17 to serve in the war.
Hanson’s wife, Lorraine, died last May. His eyes well up just mentioning her name.
Music always played in the background of their lives. Their favourite was old country music, not the modern- day rock ’ n’ roll stuff, but “the kind you can dance to.”
On Saturday nights, they’ d goto the Victory branch for t he weekly country dance.
They got to know the bands and would follow them to other venues like Purple Hill, east of the city.
Hanson got in trouble with the executive some time ago when he put up Purple Hill’s schedule on the Legion’s bulletin board. He said he agreed he did wrong and took it down.
But, when word came last summer that the country music night format was being changed to tribute bands and modern music, Hanson decided he’d help the bands he and his friends loved find a new place to play.
He secured a spot at the Marconi Club in London. He drew up some small flyers to hand out to his friends. He told them to put them in their pockets and not to leave them out at the Legion.
The bar steward, Hanson said, found a couple left on the tables. Hanson was reported to the executive, then told not to come back for six months.
The legion’ s executive insists this isn’t Hanson’s first trip to the brig, and that he’s run afoul of other veterans’ organizations (something Hanson denies ).
The branch president, Nellie Stevens, said Hanson has been “creating a problem” and t hey have “quite a file on him.”
The house rules are posted and must be followed, noted Harris.
Promoting other events that run at the same time as Legion affairs cuts into their business and their mission to help seniors and youth.
“He broke the rules,” he said. “It’s the same whether you’re 90 or a 24- year- old veteran. There are certain things you can’t do.”
But Harris said he’s willing to extend an olive branch.
“I’m not retreating; I’m going to have a talk with Bob and see what we can do, see if we can put all the bygones in the past.”
Hanson isn’ t buying it. The old vet wants an apology “and my dignity back.”
Most of all, he wants to hang out with his pals. “I miss those guys,” he said.
I’M GOING TO HAVE A TALK WITH BOB AND SEE WHAT WE CAN DO.