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Cracking the Whip

Joe LaFlamme once declared that, to be happy, he and his wolves neededfresh air, exercise, snow, and work. He should have added alcohol aswell, at least regarding his work. Each one of these factors are necessary fora productive woodsman's life, and Joe found in abundance in Gogama, theNorthern Ontario village where he lived from 1920 to 1947. And he kept aclose eye on them, though one of these resources required extra vigilance. Thetwin boys Alfred (Médé) and Roland (Bidou) Secord, who in 1945 were only12 years old, learned that the hard way.

Rummaging in the dark, young Alfred and Roland suddenly stumbledupon the loot. "Let's take some!" cried Alfred to his brother. In search ofadventure, the twins had sneaked into the ice shed. Even without lighting, theboys could see enough to check out the sawdust piles. As refrigerators werenot common back then, hotel owners kept their beer reserves cold in shacks,hiding the bottles on sawdust-covered ice until needed. That is where the boysdiscovered several cartons full of home-brewed beer and liquor.

They instinctively knew who owned the booty--and it was not the ownerof the ice shed. Fabien Bissonnette had recently left town, leaving behind hisPoupore Street hotel and restaurant business. According to Alfred Secord,this practice was relatively common then: "People left, not even selling theirhomes." Abandoned buildings held irresistible appeal for the youngsters livingin this village nestled in the boreal forest. Accessible only by train, plane, orboat, the village was cut off from the world, compelling its residents to relymostly on their own resourcefulness. As for the twins, they knew how to keepbusy: nothing was more fascinating than exploring all corners of their hometown.

To celebrate their luck that day, Alfred and Roland decided that a littlebeer tasting was in order. Years later Roland recalled an after-taste of tar thatmade the boys spit out the brew and hurl their bottles to the other end of theshed. Then, hurriedly grabbing armfuls of liquor bottles, they scurried homelike two squirrels with a newfound stash of nuts. For the boys, it was all in fun,as Alfred admitted. Nonetheless, they hoped to make a bit of spending moneyby selling the liquor to their older brothers. At 50 cents a bottle, this would bea lucrative deal for the two under-aged boys suddenly turned bootleggers.

But the twins were not about to stop there. A mound of bottles still layhidden in the sawdust. So, one breezy, cloudy summer afternoon, they revis-ited their treasure shed. They were filling their arms with bottles when theyheard a shout. Holding onto their loot, they bolted for the side door, the fear ofbeing caught red-handed wrenching their stomachs.

Suddenly, a whip cracked within inches of their ears. The boys stoppeddead in their tracks, their hearts beating like drums. Turning his head, Alfredcaught a glimpse of a huge spectre in the dark corner. Towering over the twins,whip in hand, stood strapping Joe LaFlamme, the Wolf Man.

LaFlamme's glare momentarily immobilized the boys. Then, in a rush ofadrenalin, they darted outside and fled down the lane, praying to escape Joe'sanger. Wolf Man had no intention of harming the boys. He just wanted to scarethem off and give them a lesson. And frighten them he did, which made hislodger Albert (King) Roy laugh. Alfred chuckles, "King was laughing so hard.He knew Joe would never have hit us. But we were scared. We were certain thatif Joe had caught us, he would have killed us." Even though he knew they werejust young lads having fun, Joe did not appreciate this intrusion into his busi-ness. He was protecting his livelihood--or at least one of his means of gettingby. Most likely Gogama's most notorious bootlegger, Joe carried a large inven-tory of alcohol. Since his activity was illegal, he had to go to great lengths tohide his liquor from the Ontario Provincial Police (opp), which had a detach-ment in remote Gogama.

Like a wolf, LaFlamme defended his territory.