My formal education ended about 2:30 in the afternoon on June 30, 1953. I was fourteen years old and had just completed Grade X in the little red (honestly) three-room schoolhouse in Morell, PEI.
Morell didn’t have a high school until 1955, so I would have had to find room and board in Charlottetown and attend either St. Dunstan’s University or Prince of Wales College (both of which later merged to form the University of PEI) to complete Grades 11 and 12, which was out of the question because we simply couldn’t afford it.
Anticipating this problem, earlier in the year I wrote to a number of companies in Charlottetown asking if they had part-time work on evenings and Saturdays, which would allow me to make enough money for room and board, living expenses, and tuition. Two companies responded: H. H. Marshall & Co, a magazine and paperback book distribution operation; and, the Hughes Drug Co., which at that time was the leading pharmacy in Charlottetown. Another exchange of letters set up interviews with those two companies.
I don’t remember whether I went to Charlottetown on a Saturday or took a day off school, but I know I took the train because my father worked for the CNR and I could travel free. I clearly remember being very excited about the possibility of living in Charlottetown and continuing my education. I was also keenly interested in the two companies: H.H. Marshall, because Jackie Johnston, a good friend worked there; and the Hughes Drug store because I was rarely in Charlottetown without a visit to this fascinating store, which was located in the building that Cows Ice Cream occupies now, the northeast corner of Queen and Grafton.
My first interview was with the manager of H.H. Marshall & Co., whose name I recall was Sinnott. He offered me a full-time job as soon as school closed, changing to an hour or so each evening plus Saturday mornings when school began in the fall. However, when it became part-time work it wouldn’t pay nearly enough to cover my living expenses, so I headed to Hughes’ Drug Store.
Even though I expected the store would be owned by someone named Hughes, I asked for the gentleman who had signed the letter I had received (I think his name was Kelly). He took me into a tiny, cluttered office at the back of the store. The clutter surprised me because one of the reasons I admired Hughes’ was its pristine tidiness. The clutter, though, was clearly well organized because Mr. Kelly had no trouble plucking out the file containing copies of our letters.
He took a few moments to read my original letter and then asked me a few questions. After my experience at H.H. Marshall I’d concluded that no part-time job would pay enough for me to follow my plan, so I was completely floored by his offer.
His proposal was:
I would start working evenings and Saturdays at the beginning of the school year.
He would pay me enough to cover my room and board, clothing, tuition, books, and some spending money.
I would work full time, with two weeks off for vacation, during the next two summers.
He would pay the cost of obtaining a degree in pharmacy at Dalhousie University in Halifax. He explained this would take five or six years, depending on my course load and rate of success.
While at Dalhousie I would continue to work at Hughes’ during the summers.
Upon graduation, I would work as a pharmacist at Hughes’ for at least ten years.
I knew that this was an extraordinary offer (probably because he had no family member interested in carrying on the business), but I also knew he would own me for the next seventeen or eighteen years.
As surprised as I was at the offer, he was even more surprised when I said something along the lines of, “Thank you very much, sir, but I don’t want to be tied up for that length of time.” I then mumbled that I was sorry for troubling him and left the store in tears,
In retrospect, given the affinity I later demonstrated for finance and business, it’s probable I would have eventually owned the pharmacy, maybe even a string of them. But I’ve never regretted the decision.