While working for West End Chrysler Plymouth, in Toronto I was given the opportunity of acting as transportation coordinator for a Variety Club’s 48 Hour Telethon. I enjoyed the job immensely, although it was a bit taxing on the body. I was coordinating vehicle transport for the stars that were performing for the Telethon. I remember William Shatner and Don Harron (Charlie Farquharson) were co-hosting and performing.
I had been up for nearly 42 hours when the call came in to supply a driver for Don Harron, who had to go to the airport to take a private jet to Montreal for another show. I volunteered, primarily because I was getting tired and I lived very near the airport.
I picked up Mr. Harron at the side door of the Royal York Hotel and started to drive him to the Airport. It was about 4 am and winter. I got onto the Gardiner Expressway and started towards the airport. The traffic started to slow down as it was snowing slightly and the roads were getting a bit slippery. I applied my brakes only to find out that the roads were not only slippery but were icy too. I started to skid and did a 360. I was able to get control of the car and keep going in a forward motion. I looked in my rear view mirror to see if Mr. Harron was ok. To my shock I didn’t see him at all. At first I thought maybe I was hallucinating and he didn’t get in the car after all. Then I thought he must have fallen out when I skidded. I spun my head around only to find him lying down fast asleep on the seat.
I proceeded on to the airport without further incident. I arrived at the far end of the airport on Derry Road where the private hangars were and looked for one of the hangars that was lit up. I kept driving for quite a distance, driving over a large hump in the road and eventually came upon a lit hangar. Mr. Harron was still not awake so I went and inquired if this was where Mr. Harron was flying from. The chap there said yes, but where did you come from. I said down the road. He said did you not see any signs. I said no. He said you just crossed the main North South runway and it was live. Headlines in the Toronto Star the next day could have read Don Harron aka Charlie Farquharson dies when run over by plane on runway at Toronto (now known as Pearson) International Airport. Fortunately Mr Harron was oblivious to the whole situation. That is until May 4, 2004, when I got a telephone call from Mr. Harron. I had written to Carp Magazine to relate my story and had suggested that before they published the story that they get the ok from Mr. Harron. We had a lengthy conversation and he reiterated that he was not aware of the incident, but was grateful that everything worked out ok.
