Dear Editor:
I only met Prince Philip once — in 1977.
It was a Friday night about eleven and I was in the York Hotel in North Lethbridge with Brock Crysler; the landscape artist Bill Webb and musician Bruce Beck. We were well into beer and music.
Without invitation, a distinguished man in slightly tattered clothes came and sat out table. As was our custom, he was given a beer in exchange for telling us about himself.
He told us he was Prince Philip and was visiting Lethbridge ‘under the radar’ — didn’t want the Royal family to know where he was — he just wanted to have a little fun.
Philip was much shorter and much darker than I thought. His English accent was slurred — but then, so was ours by that time of night.
He was a nice guy — said the Queen could be a Royal pain in the [@%%] and Prince Charles was an [#$#*&]. And he told us he didn’t like the Corgis. Said they crapped everywhere.
I think it was Bill who bought a joint off him for five bucks. Soon enough he shuffled off into the labyrinth of humans and tables full of beer.
A once in a lifetime experience.
-- Richard Dowson, Moose Jaw
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
