Oh, baby: Police officers aid stuck-in-traffic parents with birth on Highway 174

Pearl’s Hair Salon is a tiny place tucked around the side of an old four-storey apartment building. It’s within walking distance of my house in downtown Toronto, and for years, I’ve been sneaking into Pearl’s every month to have my roots touched up. There are only three chairs facing the mirrors, and on busy days, Pearl darts between them like a hummingbird, multi-tasking to the ding of a timer. Sometimes young men come in for quick haircuts, but mostly it’s women my age, other pensioners who appreciate Pearl’s reasonable prices and the fact that her radio is always tuned to a soothing...