"The Train & The Grasshoppers" by Keith Dyon

There have been many stories told of the Dirty Thirties and the grasshoppers of that time - most of them were exaggerated and humorous - such as the farmer going to the barn and finding they had eaten the horse and were tossing the horseshoes to see who would get the harness.
This story I tell you now is a true yard told to me by Oscar Veale who, at the time around 1930 or so, Oscar was farming with his Dad about a couple miles west of town.  Just on the east side of Antler there is quite an incline where the railroad tracks come into town,  I can recall in those days that sometimes the train would have trouble getting up the grade and would, on some occasions, stop; split the train and bring half of it into the station and go back for the other half.  
This particular day, Oscar had come into the station with a team and wagon.  The train stopped down the hill and the fireman came walking into the station.  This time the problem was grasshoppers.  They were so thick that when the train ran over them on the track, they greased up the rails badly.  For such times the engine normally had sand in a container which it would release in front of the driver wheels but it had run out of sand and so was stalled.
The fireman asked Mr. Brown the agent if he knew of any place close that they could find some sand.  This is where Oscar came into the picture.  He said he knew of some sand on John Cale's land just a short distance to the west side of town and that he would take them there and get some in his wagon. 

Antler Rail Road

The agent produced a couple of shovels and away they went out to the sand pit.  They put on quite a bit and Oscar thought enough but, the fireman thought they should have some more while at it so they shoveled some more.  When they got back they had to go into the field and take down the fence in order to get near the engine.  Then they had another chore - they had to pail the sand up to the engine sand box but finally managed to get it all in.
The crew then let sand down in front of the driver wheels, spun them a f
ew times and the wheels began to grip the rails and the train was able to proceed on into the rail yards at the station.  After unloading the freight material they were on their way to the next station.  

"The Café - Chinese Fondly Remembered" by Keith Dyon

Antler Cafe

Pretty near every town or village had its  Chinese Cafe and that was the case in our little village of Antler in Southern Saskatchewan.  There had been a cafe for several years but I recall, it was located in a building which my Dad had built for a barber shop and poolroom.
About 1918 the Chinese proprietors had to get out of the building they were in and they made a deal to rent my Dad's building.  Dad bought and moved into another location alongside it.
The two Chinese people I remember most were 'Gee Boy' and Jim Yee, who ran the cafe in the 20's and into the Dirty Thirties.  In the earlier days it was a thriving place; even in the 30's it was still a good cafe.  You could get a full meal:  steak, potatoes, bread & butter, coffee and a piece of pie - all for 35 cents!!!
Business slackened off some in the 30's and sometimes one of these fellows would go somewhere else and there would be just one running the whole place.  Whichever one, Gee or Jim, they both liked to play poker and there were lots of opportunities in Antler.  

If there was a game coming up on a Sunday, for instance, Jim or Gee would get me to look after the cafe for that day.  This I enjoyed!  Not only did he give me a couple of bucks but I had all I could eat:  ham sandwiches, pop, and a piece of that apple pie - a quarter of a thick pie and ice cream on top!!  Sometimes one did not eat too well in those days and this was a special treat!
Those good Chinese souls put up with a lot too.  There were bootleggers in town and there was a lot of booze around.  Most of those guys gathered around the cafe and the poolroom.  As a result, many fights broke out both in and out of the building, resulting sometimes in broken showcases, booths and chairs.
The cafe was the gathering place for men and boys - especially after supper.  Sundays, holidays, etc, sometimes playing cards or rolling dice for nickels and dimes.
One night, along with quite a few locals, I witnessed a near-stabbing!  Two characters came into the cafe arguing.  I guess they had been at it for some time.  In tim, when one of them turned to light a match on the stove, the other guy (one of three local bootleggers) whipped out a butcher knife and was about to plunge it into his antagonist.  Somebody yelled and another guy knocked the knife flying.  The other fellow, who was drinking  a cherry pop, turned around and knocked the knife man into a stall seat and bounced him over the head with his bottle!  He fled the scene.
The next day the Mounties came, as somebody reported the incident, but the police could not get anybody to say they had seen anything.  There were four of us young guys sitting at the table when the policeman came and I was the only one who had witnessed the affair, and I was scared.  The Mountie asked the three others what they had seen but none of them had been present.  I was shaking!  What was I going to say?  But lo and behold, he passed me up.  Was I relieved!
That was just one incident.  Another time two big men got into a squabble  which turned out to be more of a wrestling match but they knocked over the coal and wood heater with its string of pipes.  I'm telling you - there were Chinese words voiced THAT day!!  Soot all over EVERYTHING!!  There were many such occurrences, some I saw, some I was told.
In later years, Jim took up curling and one time my dad, Charlie Dyon, took Jim on his rink to the Brandon Bonspiel.  They only played a game or two when Jim slipped, fell and broke his arm.  That finished his curling in that 'spiel but he got a cast and stayed the rest of the week with his friends.
Another time a local guy took Jim to Regina to the Bonspiel, that terrible winter of '46/'47.  Lloyd Saunders, the local sportscaster, interviewed Jim, called him 'the Curling Chinaman".  A full length photo of Jim was published in the Leader Post.
Jim ran the cafe, with some local helpers for the next couple of years, then sold it to a local guy.  Jim moved into a hotel in Regina where he lived for a year or so until his death.  The cafe carried on for a few years but eventually closed and in 1995, the old building burned down.
If it could have talked, what yarns it could have spun.  Gee Boy had left Antler just before the war to a job at a hotel in Swastika, Ontario.

"Charles Edward Dyon" - my Father by Keith Dyon

Charles Edward Dyon, commonly known as 'Charlie' was my father.  He was of the same name as his father but the latter was known as Ed Dyon.  Dad was born in Mountain Grove in Frontenac County in Ontario.  He had two sisters, the eldest being Frances (Frankie) and then Mary. (There was also a younger sister, Annie, who died when she was a baby).  My grandfather Ed, was a section foreman in his part of of Ontario but decided to go out west and try farming.  So the family migrated to Whitewater, Manitoba - a little place between Boisevain and Deloraine.  He got a quarter section at the at location but after a year or so was unable to acquire any more land so he proceeded to get a homestead and that was up near Antler, Saskatchewan - about 80 miles north-west.  For a year or two he would farm this quarter by driving back and forth by horses.  About 1900 the family moved to Antler where they built a house in the village as Ed's land was bordering on the village.  By this time, my dad would be about 8 or 10 years of age.  Charlie, my dad, took his schooling in Antler and he proceeded to be quite a ball player as well as hockey but tended to enjoy ball more-so.  He gained prominence as a pitcher.  Gramma Dyon undertook to run a boarding and rooming house which I think turned out to be more of a refuge for waifs.  Dad grew into manhood and about 1913 went to Winnipeg where he trained in the Erzinger shop as a barber.  Upon completion of his training he went across the street in the city and was taking on as one of the barbers in the Grain Exchange building not far from Portage & Main.  He barbered there for awhile and then decided to go home and open his own shop right alongside their home on main street and in 1914 he started barbering in Antler and he was considered a darn good barber.

He had been going out a bit with Kathleen McVeigh whose people had a bake shop and confectionery store across the street and, in 1915 they got married in Winnipeg by a minister who later became a novelist.  Anyway, they married and came back to Antler and bought a house on the south side of the barber shop.  In 1917, I was born - Keith Edward Dyon - at least that was what the name was SUPPOSED to be and it is the name I have always gone by.  However, somebody made a mistake and "Kenneth" was put onto the registration.  So, later on when I joined the Air Force, I had to sign everything as kenneth for that period of time.  
Two years after I was born, my brother Carman Cecil Dyon was born and then, a couple of years after that we were blessed with a sister, Mona Gwendolyn Dyon.  By this time Dad had gotten a quarter of land right alongside Grampa Dyon's homestead and tus started farming as well as running the barbershop and pool hall.  My Dad did not have the first car in Antler but very close to it so he drove a Ford at a very early age.  Different ones used to get him to drive them somewhere or other and I'll mention one of such episodes.
About that time was when the rum runners used to be on the go and one of their trails was up this way.  Some say they were connected with the Bronfman family who became money barons and are still in the financial circles in the east.  Anyway one of their trips this way their car broke down and they had big cars.  While the Mounties were still getting about on horses or Fords when they could get over the trails.  There were only prairie trails winding around the sloughs.  The garage man sent these guys up to my Dad as he had a fairly new Ford and they persuaded him to drive them to Maryfield where they could catch a train and eventually get to Yorkton.  He took them on the winding trip and when they got to Maryfield they paid him something and said "I thought we had pretty good drivers but YOU take the cake".  He didn't very often drive anyone like that as I think by this time there was a livery service in Antler.  Grampa got quite a bit of land around Antler and they continued farming until the dirty thirties struck.  It was 1929 when the crash came and that same year our mother, who had not been very well for sometime, died.  Two years later my granparents both died.  So Dad and Aunt Frankie wereleft with quite a bit of land and as times were hard, they went on to sell most of it for a song.  Mary (Dad's sister), Mrs. Leverton had died earlier and so she was not in on the crash.  Dad kept hold of the homestead and his own quarter and somehow managed to carry on with this bit of farming and barbering.  He barbered until 1945 when I came home from overseas and took over.  Dad carried on farming until about 1978 when he rented to a neighbor, Dave Poirier.  About 1982 he turned the two quarters over to Carm and myself.  Poirier continued farming it until Dad passed away in 1985 at the age of ninety-two.  He would have been ninety-three on Christmas Day.  Shortly after, we sold the farm to Poirier's.

Charlie Dyon

Dad had quite a time trying to raise us kids with all the hard times  and all.  We didn't have such a good life of it but managed to live through the bad times. 
Farming was the bunk and barbering wasn't so hot either in those days. 
Everybody was cutting one another's hair or at least there was a lot of that going on.
Dad was quite bright right up to the end.  He was even driving his old truck and car around the month before he died.  He was a healthy, strong man -  only sick once or twice for a few days.  He was "old Charlie" to everybody up to the last.  He was in the hospital and watched some of the ball game on TV prior to his passing on that evening.  I was with him to the end.  He died without any fuss.

"The Graveyard" by Keith Dyon

The Antler Cemetery is pretty well marked.  There are however a few graves that have no stones or markers of any kind but, I think, they are possibly on a map somewhere.  There are some graves over on the west side and of them, there are several that have no indication of who they might be.  In the far corner is a grave of Mr. Abe Ramsey.  Why he was buried over there is unknown unless it was because the village buried him.  Howe'ver, he does have a monument.  Mr. Ramsey was one of the pioneer settlers in this farming district, which later became Ben Borreson's farm.  It is now in the hands of some of the Poirier family.  Mr. Ramsey's wife was sent to Ontario for burial (I believe) which was long before he passed away.  In the same corner is a stone for a Mr. Silk and there is no mention of his wife either.  Why he was over there, I don't know.  The Silk's farmed south of Antler.  The farm was later worked by a man named Bob Ewing who was a son-in-law of the Silks.  The land now also belongs to the Poirier family.
Next, we come to a grave for a man named Harry Mortimer who was buried years and years ago.  Mortimer had a butcher shop in the village way back about 1900.  He had a horse and buggy and used to go out to buy a beast from some local farmer.  However, he was subject to epileptic seizures and my dad, who was a young boy at the time, told me that Mortimer would have him go with him in the event he might take on of these fits while driving.  Then, in the sam erow is a grave for a Mr. Chris Leist who lived in the village.  Two of his daughters lived in the area - Emma (Mrs. Tom Kennedy) and Augusta (Mrs. Walter Dittmer).  One nice mild day in March, about 1920, Chris hooked up his horse to a stoneboat and struck off for Kennedy's - about 3 miles south.  There were no roads at that time of course and a snow storm suddenly came up out of nowhere.  Leist got lost in the blizzard and they found him the next day frozen . 
Also buried along there was an Englishman who worked for George Church.  Church lived north along a creek and this guy apparently went swimming alone one day (something he'd done many times before) and he drowned.  He had no relatives and was a newcomer so there were no friends either.  I remember we had hired a girl, Lucy Rondache, to help my mother who was not well at the time and the day of this guy's funeral, Lucy made it a point to go as she figured there would be few to mourn this poor stranger.
Another such grave along that same side of the graveyard was a chap who worked on the section gang and when they were out on the track one day, the noon train was just coming and the fellow ran and lay his head over the track.  Needless to say, that finished him!  I think his name was Mike.  Further down the line were the Whitmores, Rueben and his wife.  It is alleged that she poisoned him and then took her own life.  One of the earlier and more humerous cases of Dr. Mather, who had just returned to Antler  was attached to this tragedy.  The night of the deaths, it was required that someone stay at the house so my Uncle George Leverton and Adam McCallum agreed to house-sit.  Now, Adam was a little Irish man, very nervous and high strung who had recently come to this country.  In the middle of the night, every noise he would hear he would say "What's That?!" and Uncle George would say, "Oh, that's just the devil playing around" - this explanation not being much comfort to Adam but, they both saw the night through.


Another character buried in this row was a guy called Alec Stacey who had been first man on the station crew for years but had retired.  His so-called friends had bled him dry of money and he died a pauper.  At this time Antler was a lively place with three bootleggers going strong.  They helped to impoverish old Alec.  At the same time our minister was a Mr. Down who was doing his utmost to run the booze sellers out of town.  When Alec died they asked Mr. Down to have a short service in my grandparents old house, which was vacant, and he agreed.  Lo and behold, the pall-bearers were none other than the bootleggers and the ones who'd done him wrong.  It was comical when one thought about it.  It was like a mafia job.


There were others buried, among them being several babies, in this row  of which there are no records that were kept.

"The Big Fire" by Keith Dyon

The Village of Antler has had its share of fires over the years but the one that was a major disaster was the night the big livery barn on main street burned down, along with an implement business and a grocery store.  The butcher shop was also badly damaged but was saved and repaired.  This fire occured the first part of May in 1940 on a Saturday night.  I was working at Ed George's John Deere  and Red & White Store.  It was about 12:30 at night and I had not long been home and in bed when I noted a reflection on the wall.  We lived just across and up the street from the barn.  I got up and looked out and there was the big red barn on fire!  I roused my Dad and brother Carm and by this time a few others had noticed as well.  There was nothing anyone could do about the barn and, unfortunately there was a team of dray horses inside and it wasn't possible to get them out.  Len Hawkins, who owned the barn and team, felt terrible but there was nought that could be done to save them.  There was quite a crowd gathered and efforts were concentrated on saving the butcher shop, the roof of which was on fire by this time.  A bucket brigade started a relay carrying water across the street and up ladders throwing the water on the roof and by this means the shop was saved to the extent that they were later able to repair it.  The barn burned fiercely and next to it was Copet's machine and oil business which caught fire as well.  It provided quite a sight as the oil drums kept blowing up.  Then soon, Hewitt's grocery store next to Copet's caught fire too.  Hewitts lived up above the store and luckily they got out but were not able to save much of anything.  McVeigh's big General Store, a few feet from Hewitt's, was kept from igniting by pouring water down the side of that building which happened to be sided with tin , which helped to deter the flames.  Fire fighting went on most of that night and the people that owned the Chinese cafe across the street kept his place open giving the fire fighters coffee and sandwiches all night long.  At daylight there was nothing left of those three buildings except the long chimney of the Hewitt store.  I remember Ed Kennedy was working at Stuckey's that spring and he walked the back lane to Stuckey's  when he noticed this chimney standing and thought that wasn't there before...then it dawned on him that the buildings were gone.  He had slept through the night!  The minister, Mr. Harry, took off for Sinclair where he preached first thing on Sunday morning and when he got there they asked him about the fire in Antler.  He too had slept throughout the night and even though he drove past town he'd noticed nothing.  At the start of the fire, old Norm (White) was one of the first to notice the flames.  He was on his way up to Earlies where he was roosting and he started to holler 'fire' and they heard him clean out to Borreson's - a mile and a half south-east of town!  It was a blow to Antler.  Hewitt's store was  never rebuilt and the family moved to the west coast.  The livery barn, of course, was gone forever.  Copet did bring in a shed from his farm and reopened his business.  It was a night to remember and it surely was a blow to out little town.  Most feelings though went for the poor team of horses burned as everyone in town were friends of those horses.  They figured the fire was started by indiscriminate playing by boys with firecrackers.  It was a great community effort that night to contain the fire as well as they did and to save what they could.  Kids and grown-ups emptied available cisterns just by passing pails of water hand to hand across the street.  A couple of farmers came in with water tanks by team from the country.  We have had other fires tut this one was the most spectacular.  I recall one humorous incident - as the pails of water were handed up the ladders, the guys on the roof would drop the empty pails and it would be relayed back to the others.  Dan Morrison was just in the act of picking up one such pail when one dropped and landed on his head.  The air was blue for a spell.  Dr. Mather was one of the more energetic firemen and I remember he ruined a brand new suit.

"Saturday Night" by Keith Dyon

Keith & Carm in the early 20's

In the 20's, 30's and before that, Antler was a real boom town and Saturday nights are when everybody came to town - some by horse and buggy, some by horseback, bicycle, and even cars.  The streets would be full of all sorts of vehicles and people.  To us kids it was all very exciting and there were 2 pool rooms, one of which was run by my dad, Charlie.  The other was run by a man named Fred Johnson.  They were always both full until the wee hours of Sunday morning.  Both old Fred and my dad cut hair and they also kept busy on Saturday nights until 1 or 2 o'clock, standing in hair up to their knees.
  In those days, a lot of the guys got a shave as well as a haircut and the barbers were masters with the old straight razor.  First, the barber would pull a long hair out of your head and let it hang free and then see if the razor would cut it!  If so, she was good and sharp and he could dig right in.  There was no electricity for a long time so it had to be the old hand clippers and scissors.  The pool tables were never vacant either and there was usually a bunch standing out front gossiping.  We kids were going from one end of the town to the other to see what we could see and hear.  Earlier, during the 20's they used to have dances on Saturday nights above Hunter's store and there was a great string of steps going up to the dance hall on the south side of the building.  Occasionally a fight would get going at the top of the stairs and once in awhile some guy would come rolling down the steps.  I guess they were bruised frequently but nobody was ever killed.  Whilst these events took place, the band played on!  In the 30's Antler became famous for its bootleggers.  These places drew more people from further away and certainly increased night life activity.  One establishment became a real Las Vegas type casino where drinking and poker went on just like a big time operation.    Another Saturday night feature in Antler in tose days were the Gospel Singers. They were a group of devoted souls from north of Antler known as the 'Gillette Bunch', because Mr. & Mrs. Gillette
were the promoters.  Anyway, pretty near every Saturday night they would gather under a street light and one of them played a guitar while they all sang old Hymns.  They were good too!  So, you had your choice - you could see a fight and you could sing along with hymns.  I might add here that all the stores would stay open until the 'last dog was hung'.  Some were still open long after business had finished as very often some poor woman was waiting for her husband to come and get her and he was probably playing pool or often at one of the bootleggers so, the storekeeper had to be a baby sitter as well.

Antler in the 20s

"Carman Dyon - My brother" by Keith Dyon

Carman Cecil Dyon, my brother, was quite a character all of his life. When he was a kid, everybody liked him.  He could get away with stuff that no one else could.He had always been a kind-hearted person and was always ready to help someone in his own way - doing things for others that anyone else wouldn't even think of.  I have seen him when he was a kid, fix somebody's flat tire on the street without the knowledge of the owner.  He just saw the flat tire and went about changing it for them.  He had two fascinations - old cars and watches.  He has given several of his old watches to relatives and friends after he has had them restored.  When he was a kid, he was always fooling around with some old crate of a car and he had the uncanny knack of making it go though no one else could manage and, with his improvisations only he could manipulate the machine.  Sometimes he would have a honey pail hanging from something for a gas tank; sometimes with no seat, he would be sitting on the gas tank.  Sometimes no tire on one or more of the wheels but he would still drive her around.  In those days there were only big bicycles - men's bikes - and Carm was only the size of a grasshopper - maybe 6 or 7 years old but he would get between the frame and the pedals and away he would go with the bike at about a 45 degree angle.  One time, my Dad was away to Winnipeg where my mother was very sick - in fact she died at that time - anyway, Dad had a brand new Chev and he had left the keys with old Grampa Dyon.  Carm was only 9  years old but he went and asked Grampa for the keys which he gave him.  So, off he goes, takes the car out of the garage and proceeds to go for a spin down the Queen's highway.  Joe Gauthier was coming from church or somewhere and they said they passed a car on the highway with no one driving!  He was so small they couldn't see a driver.  Anyway, he went for a spin and came back , put the car in the garage - however, he thought he had it in a little crooked and that Dad might notice so he though he should back out and straighten her up.  He went to back out but forgot to shut the door.  It flew open and caught the 2 x 4's  on the side of the garage and, of course, sprung the door.  He got excited and threw her into low and in his excitement hit the end of the garage knocking out a few boards.  The evening Dad came home on the train, Carm was no where to be seen.  We finally found him hiding in Mitchell's outhouse.  He was scared but under the circumstances, the car was not very important and he got away with that escapade.  Later years he was still performing with old cars - sometimes on a Sunday night he would get a bunch of us in the old crate and he would take us up and down the two cement sidewalks that were up either side of main street.  In some places there was just enough room to get between trees and buildings but he would make it.  Other times he would get her loaded down with a bunch of us girls and boys and would drive up and down the street and every once in awhile he would cramp the front wheels and this would throw the old crate up on her side and then she would fall back just like a circus ride.  Only Carm could do things like that.  Another time, Carm went into someone's farmyard and he had a young lady with him - a school teacher - and in the yard was a big pile of gravel.  He drove right up the pile and then no further.  The farmer said that the young lady 'wet her seat'.  She boarded at the house and had to go in and change her clothes.  Another incident was when he was working for Foster McDougall at Reston.  He had an old crate of a car and when he was through for the summer season, Foster said that he had better figure up what he owed him.  Carm told him he'd better just keep the old car and they'd be even.  You see, McDougall ran a bulk service station and Carm had been using his gas.  Goster had told me about that several times and he laughed every time.  
Then there was the time at the first of the war with myself, Carm, and Ken Hawkins.  We were called into Regina for 30 days of training.  At the end of those 30 days we were discharged and were able to go home, each with passes to take the train.  However, Carm had bought an old Ford and was going to drive it home and wanted Ken and I to go with him.  We refused!!!  Hell!  There was no heater in the machine, one of the windows was broken - and it was COLD!  Anyway - we took the train and he struck off with the car.  He had a full tank of gas when he left but nearly ran out when he got to Wauchope and had only 30 cents in his pocket so, he bought that much gas and headed the rest of the way home.  It took him to about 4 miles out of Antler and the car ran out of gas so he had to leave it and walk the rest of the way.  We were so glad that we took the train!  
Carm and the Army didn't get along too well.  Either he was always in trouble - his rifle was dirty or his cap was on screwgee, or his boots or buttons were not polished enough - he always had something wrong, for which he had to do fatigue duties a lot of the time.  I felt sorry for him there but it was just NOT his thing at all.  He was back in the army after that up at Red Deer and a few other places but he did not last.  I think they let him go finally - probably more of a problem for them if they kept him!  
After the war years he was around home where he worked for Ed George and a few others.  He tried farming a little but again, it wasn't his thing so he went to Regina where he started working for Moore's Taxi.  He eventually wound up at Hertz U Drive and then on to Budget Rent-a-Car.  He never married and he had a great affinity for beer.  
This reminds me of another episode of Carm and a car.  One time some natives were going through here with an old Model T and she broke down.  (Carm always seemed to be about when a car broke down.)  Anyway these guys asked him to drive them to Pipestone and for payment they told him he could have the old car.  Well - that was right up his alley so he took them to Pipestone and the old car was in our back yard.  That night, Dad told Carm he would have to get that crate out of there because it stunk to high heaven.  Then one day sometime after,  Dad saw some guys snooping around our back and he asked them what they wanted.  They said they were looking for the guy who drove them to Pipestone.  He told them where to go in no uncertain terms!  They left, but shortly thereafter Dad got a letter from the "Indian Agent" saying that Carm took these guys car and he had to give it back or there would be trouble.  Dad sat down and wrote this guy a letter saying they had dealt with a minor and took advantage of him.  He got the letter back; a letter of apology; and Carm kept the old car, which he eventually sold.  He was making deals of this nature all the time.  

One of his many antique cars

Several years ago, Margaret & I went into the big fair in Regina and Carm had 3 of his antique cars in the parade.  He was driving one and a couple of his friends were driving the others.  We were in the grandstand and when the parade terminated, the old cars were all lined up in front of the stand.  We hightailed it down to where they were parked.  Each of the cars carried a couple of dignitaries, Carm having 2 Government members and a representative of the Hiram Walker Scotch Whiskey company.  Inside was a thermos which this one fellow kept full and NOT with coffee.  Next to Carm was another of his cars and this one carried the Chief of Police and the R.C.M.P. Commissioner.  I don't know if they ever knew it but they were sitting on a cooler full of cold beer! Ironically, the driver said that when they were rounding a corner (and it was a very hot day), the one chap said to the other how nice a cold beer would taste about then.  He never offered them one!