Tomorrow, my neighbourhood of Parkdale loses one of its most interesting citizens.
After 19 years of standing behind a counter every day, Jerry of Jerry’s Fish and Chips will be retiring. He will chop those potatoes, and batter that fish for the very last time.
Originally from Guyana, where he left in fear because he was a political dissident, Jerry spent many years in South America before ending up in Toronto. He took over a little hole in the wall chippy previously owned by a Greek family (the sign outside still says “Mom’s Fish and Chips”), and served up fish, chips and burgers to the locals, particularly to the kids from the high school next door.
Always with a smile and a wave for everyone, Jerry has handed out more than his fair share of freebies over the years to kids who were hungry but had no money to pay. When I broke my arm a couple of years ago, I’d head up to Jerry’s almost every day for lunch. One New Year’s Eve, we walked past just before midnight and he was still in the shop cleaning (cleanest hole in the wall joint EVER!). He waved Greg and I in, and pulled a bottle of brandy from under the counter and we toasted the new year together.