Man searching for long lost friend reminisces after finding obit on Record's site

Editor’s Note: We recently received the following note and tribute to George Thompson who was a well known local resident. For many who knew him they can truly relate to what Mr. Vickers has to say.

Dear Rainy River Record folk,
It is remarkable what the Internet can do.
From time to time I have checked for ‘George Thompson, Rainy River’, and found nothing.
Today I checked again, and your Notice of his death In January, 2004, came up.
George and I and our gang only got called in on one serious fire that summer of 1955. That was near Timmins. Several gangs were called in. In the end, bulldozed fire-breaks did the job. And fortunately, no serious wind. ...
Still there’s nothing ever that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to bristle quite as much, as the distant roar of a forest fire heading in your direction. Big fires are a force of nature. There is always risk. Winds can suddenly pick up, or shift. ...Even with that shameful scrub/ bush remnant left by clear-cut logging and fire re-growth of earlier years in many of the locales in that northland area, a seemingly insignificant fire can jump, and you can get caught out.
We had good training with L&F. It helped a lot. Neither George nor I got into any trouble. One or two others did. They got trapped. But we got em out. ...Those folk trying to follow out via the RR tracks in 1910, weren’t so lucky. ...Sheets of fire at 100 feet tall, across a half-mile front, and being pushed along by a wind of 50 mph. ...What an inferno and terrifying experience that must have been. ...As they said; no chance of controlling that one. ...Did many people take to the river when it got close?
Below is a small note, of the George I knew, and remember.
George Thompson and I became close friends the summer of 1954 (again, 1955, I think).
We worked as ‘Junior Forest Rangers’ for the old Department of Lands and Forests, of the Ontario Government.
George and I kept in touch into the 1960s.
My last contact from him, he was based in the Rainy River area, and I remember mention of Geraldine.
Like George, I too felt strongly the call of the North lands. And like George, I moved easily in the lands and forests, with their great silence and magic presence.
They were, and had always been, a natural home.
But George had the courage and the spirit-truth, to do, and to go as his heart directed.
I didn’t.
We talked about ‘Going North,’ indeed travelling, venturing, cross-country/continent to Lake of the Woods, and beyond. Not so far from where George was duly to settle.
But for me it never happened.
The power of family, of custom, the demands of conformity, the reluctant surrender to the disciplines of education. In sterile settings, all primed to an artificial world that against my heart I steeled my will to enter.
It was my first betrayal of self.
How happy I am to read of George in your life-account..
What I read is truly of the George I knew and greatly valued.
What George was, that person with whom I moved so easily through bush. On one occasion escaping a raging mother bear when we came between her and her cub; fortunately the river was close.
And on river in easy canoeing glide, or in visiting lively young women close to our Englehart Camp and enjoying a beer with local folk; George and I were natural companions.
I missed George much. Often I thought of joining him.
I never saw him again.
But he has never left me.
I live now in England.
It has been home for me the past nearly 50 years.
Life has carried us on different paths. And these have brought their own adventures, experiences and contribution opportunities.
Indeed Dame Fortuna has smiled.
But the roots of Life and spirit remain deep-embedded. George, along with one or two others, is part of that root.
And his words that you quote, ‘Never be in a hurry,’ are indeed wise ones.
Many times have they saved me.
I am grateful.
–Best wishes,
Prof. Michael Vickers,
East Grinstead,
West Sussex
United Kingdom