Story: Mission Impossible - Matt & Tim Martin

One of the last of so many different trips of all types I took with my brother Tim in his life was the Canada fishing trip of 2002. Tim was a regular on the trip since we were kids. He loved to go to Canada with the Henrys. He loved to fish and he loved the freedom. He loved hanging with the guys. He liked the drinking rituals too!

So that year when he said he was going, I signed up to Impossible. Young Mateo was not quite a year old, and I left him in his mothers able hands to go enjoy some time with my bro, my cousins, and my uncles. Well, the presence of Tim and I must have thrown off some age old formula about beer stocking and consumption, because 48 hours in on shore and we were completely out of beer. Unacceptable! Tim and I, who had struck a friendship with a gal named Sally, who was working the summer on the island as a helper, bummed a ride back to the mainland with the expectation of bumming another ride back hours later. Sally was off for the night, freed temporarily from the bondage of cleaning up after a bunch of barbaric males, and she was headed in to visit with friends and see a concert in Sudbury. So, we tagged along, jumping in a boat with a friend of a friend armed only with (Scott’s) beer money and instructions to get the beer back quick.

Bad plan, fellas. Sally and Tim had become taken with one another, and when she mentioned that we could join her in her plans we did not say no. After buying the beer in town, we bar hopped in Subdbury (not sure there’s more than a couple spots), saw some crappy Canadian band, did some shots, one thing led to another and we were at a small after hours gathering in some strangers apartment, doing some version of over-the-top performance comedy for a mild mannered Canadian party crowd. The next morning I woke up in a shrub, knocked on a few doors until I found Tim, and we got Sally to get us back to the island with the beer in time for breakfast.

It was one of the most fun nights I’ve ever had, probably mostly due to the “random” element of the whole thing. When you were with Tim, a room full of strangers was an opportunity to perform, to pretend, to take on some role and take it seriously and not stop until you had extracted every last drop of laughter and bewilderment from the room. We had done that and then some, and we had gotten the beer too! As I recall, the fellas were mad when we got back to the island, but also a bit curious and impressed that we had been able to land a gig partying with the locals. Not to mention, Sally was quite a looker and her interest in Tim was evident. Plus, we had the beer, so all was forgiven.

As it turns out, Tim kept in touch with Sally, even up until his death. He returned for at least one visit later and talked with her often. Who meets a girl on the Canada trip? Tim, of course. The End -Matt Martin-

Epilogue: Tim built bonds with people, a trait that is clearly common in this family. Reading these stories is really touching- no apologies if that sounds soft- not so much because I was there or remember them but because they are genuine, embellished (no good story isn’t), and meaningful. They represent a kinship and a brotherhood that is sadly lost in today’s world. They also help to keep those that are no longer with us, with us still- and that’s a powerful thing. Thanks guys. -Matt

July 23, 2017 Brian Lee