The Arena: Where Memories and Friendships Were Made

Photo Matt Graham.
The last skate at the Millbrook Arena.

I attended the final skate at the Arena yesterday, and as I sat there in my old spot I began reminiscing, thinking about what that place meant to so many.

My last official visit to that arena was in the Fall of 2002 when my late husband’s Cavan Blazer sweater was retired; yesterday I was there to retire the actual building in which he wore it so proudly.

To many of you, that arena is just an ice surface, to me it is so much more. The first time I entered that building was a Friday night in the fall of 1969. I was on a second date with the young man who I would eventually marry. The reason for me being there was to watch him and the rest of his team play a game of Broomball. I went on to attend eighteen seasons of Friday nights doing exactly that. That same night, I met my best friend Nancy who I’m happy to say is still my best friend. She was also on a date.

But that night wasn’t just an introduction to a new sport, it was my introduction to the Township of Cavan Monaghan; not the municipality, but the people. That arena didn’t just provide entertainment, it made friendships.

That evening and throughout the years, I also met the Sargants, the Maughans, the Larmers, the Grahams, the McFaddens, the Carls, the Hutchisons, the Thompsons, the Dunfords, the Talsmas, the Smiths, the Van Dams, the Sorrensons, the Earles, the Calhouns, the Olans, the Parsons, the Pollocks, the Agnews, the Pages, the Cathcarts, the Martins, the Clarks, the McCarrols, the Doights, the Challices, the Gillis’s, the Tulleys, the Gibsons, the Armstrongs, the Hannahs, the Hewitts, the Edgertons, the Greers and of course the rest of the Moore family. The list goes on and on.

Teams weren’t just from our own community; they came from South Monaghan, Bewdley, Garden Hill, Peterborough, Colbourne, Port Hope and Trenton.

One of those Friday nights, we were forced to exit in a bit of a hurry as the waters from the creek had come up to meet us. The flood caused the game to end but the party just changed location. This community rallied round and fund raised to get the arena up and going again.

After the ripe old age of thirty five came along, my husband joined the infamous Cavan Blazer’s, which meant that Wednesday and Sunday evenings were now spent in this building we practically called home.

My kids learned to skate on that ice surface and soon we added the figure skating club to our list of reasons to spend time there. We had lessons, competitions and in early April the skating wound up with a spectacular event showing off all the skills they had worked hard to master. One of the most memorable skating carnivals was the year the fathers dressed up as Hawaiian dancers, grass skirts and all and chased each other around the ice throwing pails of water. I believe that was the last time the Dads were invited to help close out the season. It seems the audience didn’t like getting wet.

I guess what I’m saying is that it isn’t just an old building we’re closing, it’s a chapter in our lives.

Those walls are full of memories. Memories of cheering and booing, laughing and crying, of lessons and practices, of games, tournaments, pots of homemade chili, dances, the occasional beer both spilled and consumed, sportsmanship and friendships, but most importantly memories. Memories that we’ll all take with us. It might be ending an era but come September we’ll make more memories and friendships as we start many more chapters in a never ending book called “Life in the Cavan Monaghan Arena”.

By Catherine Moore, Cavan Councillor

 

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