From a paperboy in a small Ontario village to a Vice President at Volvo Trucks — the unlikely arc of a life shaped by quiet resilience, hard work, and the people who refused to let one boy disappear.
Gary Forget grew up the eldest of nine children in Newcastle, Ontario, in a household where chaos was a constant companion. He delivered the Oshawa Times to escape the house, set bowling pins to pay for textbooks, and read his way into the University of Toronto on student loans.
Over the next four decades, Gary built a career that took him from picking parts in a Canadian General Electric warehouse in Winnipeg to serving as a Vice President at Volvo Trucks, responsible for Human Resources at three world-class manufacturing plants across North and South America.
This memoir is his way of looking back — at the people, the missteps, and the unexpected gifts that shaped a life he never expected to have.
After hearing about my background, several people suggested I write a memoir, focused on my childhood, my family, and my career with Canadian General Electric. They thought it worth sharing because of the lessons learned and the people and events that influenced me. I put it on my bucket list and now that I'm retired, no excuse.
I started out in a working-class home with parents who were "functional alcoholics." I learned later that many of my emotional defaults, especially related to shame, sadness and self-judgment are typical among those who experience an abnormal childhood.
Making sense of it was the driving force for this memoir. It forced me to look back on the events and people who helped me rise from a parts picker at a CGE warehouse in Winnipeg, Manitoba in 1972 to a Vice-President at Volvo Trucks responsible for Human Resources at three world-class manufacturing plants in North and South America.
My deepest regret is that, at the time, I did not acknowledge, understand or express gratitude to friends, family and colleagues who helped shape my development. But it's never too late.
I grew up in Newcastle, Ontario, east of Toronto. The village is just north of Lake Ontario in a hollow, so kids like me had to pedal their bikes extra hard to get on higher ground at both ends of the main street. We lived close to the village centre and since the population in 1960 was only 900, it didn't take long to get out of town no matter which direction you went.
My father Joe was a truck driver. My mother Eileen, stayed at home. I was the eldest of nine children. We were a poor family, made poorer by the fact that Mom and Dad both loved beer.
Because we were poor, I started working young, first as a paperboy, delivering the Oshawa Times. I was about ten years old. The job was an excuse to be away from home for one or two hours every afternoon. I enjoyed the solitude and freedom. The only bad days were weather-related.
I was born with an above-average intelligence and an insatiable appetite for learning. On reflection this is what saved me from the fate of ACoAs who follow in their parent's footsteps. I immersed myself...
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