Today is the anniversary of the accident that killed my granddad some 42 years ago. During the summer of 1967, a mean heat wave hit British Columbia. My granddad, a pilot for the RAF during the second world war, had been recruited by Alex Davidson, a former WWII ace and Fairey test pilot, to join a young start-up known as “The Flying Firemen” (which, after being bought by some chap named Alex Wood, grew into the largest amphibious waterbombing outfit in the world until it was forced to submit to the competition of the federally-subsidized CL 215 waterbombers built by Quebec-based Canadair in 1996). The company was founded to address the need for fire-fighting aircrafts along the west-cost. On Sunday, July the 16th at roughly 1630PDT, a fire erupted on Skirt Mountain (close to the apparently controversial Goldstream park). Apparently, my Granddad had his day off that day, but happened to be lingering around the hangers. My granddad immediately volunteered as the pressing operation was in need of a second pilot. Well… after two hours of repeatedly scooping up more than 1000 gallons of water along Saanich Inlet and emptying it on the blaze, a wingtip of their Canso was shattered on a tree tip, and the plane crashed into the side of the mountain; the plane went up in flames killing both pilots instantly. I never met the man who died that day, my dads dad, but the stories that cling to his name to the present sketch a man of exemplary format. Anyways… last year around this time, my mom passed on an email from my grandmother with a link to a local blog site. The blog from the local journalist Ross Crockford, entitled “The Unkown Victora”, had a detailed write-up of the tide of events that took place that day. Here is the strange thing: By sheer chance, today (16th of July, 2009) while sorting my inbox (archiving old conversations and updating my tags) I stumbled over a comment I had sent Ross a year ago. My granddad died roughly 22089900 minutes ago, prompting me to run a tunecast. I drifted through much material in search for the appropriate song for my passed away grandfather. Among the prime candidates were tunes like Nick Drakes “Day is done” or Regina Spectors “The Man of a thousand faces”. However, in the end, I decided for something with attitude, as this seems most appropriate. So pipe up your sound machines and enjoy “Tombstone Blues” from Bob Dylans 1965 album “Highway 61 Revisited” with tributes to Robert “Paddy” Moore.