Naida: Who Am I?

By Naida Drew Anderson

Naida Drew Andersons journey spans nine decades, beginning in the early 1920s. Her story begins on her aunt and uncles farm near Belleville, Ontario. Her childhood was clouded by the deaths of her sisters, as well as her mothers painful struggle with mental illness. Through it all, Naida stood strong, surviving these hardships to come of age at the beginning of World War II.

Living near Canadas largest air force base provided her the opportunity to meet young pilots from all over the world. One handsome American flying ace named Johnny Anderson captured her heart and made her his wife.

What followed was a story of love lost and love gained and of Naidas struggle to find a place in an alien world not of her choosing. All around her, societys perceptions of women and their roles were ever changing, redefining what women could achieve in the world. Open to possibilities, Naida nurtured romantic notions of life and eventually came to grips with the reality of human existence. People would come and go from her life, each contributing to her experience, her wisdom, her understanding; each helping her to answer the question that defined her journey: Who am I?

Daughter, wife, lover, mother, cancer survivorNaida has worn many titles. Now, comfortable in her retirement, she looks back at the path. Ultimately, it has been a lesson in resilience, living with the consequences of ones choices, and the value of remaining true to oneself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491707647

Naida Drew Anderson

Naida Drew Anderson, born in Belleville, Ontario, came of age during World War II. In Naida, she shares the story of her personal challenges, the people who shared her journey, and her nine-plus decades of life, lovers, and learning. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, enjoying her retirement.

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NAIDA

WHO AM I?

_______________________

NAIDA DREW ANDERSON

iUniverse LLC

Bloomington

NAIDA

Who Am I?

Copyright © 2014 Naida Drew Anderson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-0763-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0765-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0764-7 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 02/27/2014

Contents

Chapter 1     The Early Years

Chapter 2     Moving to Roblindale, Shannonville & Beyond

Chapter 3     Belleville My First Encounter with Death

Chapter 4     The Years on the Farm 1935-1951

Chapter 5     Outdoor Life

Chapter 6     The Play and David’s Missteps

Chapter 7     Grandma Drew

Chapter 8     Christian Education & Beyond

Chapter 9     Return to Belleville 1939

Chapter 10   The Beginning of World War II

Chapter 11   The Dashing Hero Appears

Chapter 12   Trying To Fit In 1943

Chapter 13   Returning Home Again 1944

Chapter 14   The Birth, 1944

Chapter 15   Airplane Disaster, 1945

Chapter 16   Earl and Maxine, 1945

Chapter 17   Rockford Fall of 1945

Chapter 18   Earl’s Return From Florida 1946

Chapter 19   Return To Long Island 1946

Chapter 20   Kirsten 1947

Chapter 21   Bus and Ruth, 1947

Chapter 22   The Flying School, 1948

Chapter 23   Grandpa Martin, the Kittens & Uncle Earl

Chapter 24   Reckoning, 1948

Chapter 25   South Dakota

Chapter 26   New Direction, 1949

Chapter 27   Kirsten at the Sommers

Chapter 28   Marriage of Dauphine and Don

Chapter 29   Sobergs and Caledonia

Chapter 30   Allenbaugh Fiasco

Chapter 31   Christmas in Ontario and a Disaster

Chapter 32   Arlene’s Choice

Chapter 33   My Workplace Experience

Chapter 34   Montreal 1951

Chapter 35   Introductions to the Frosts and Albert Cullum

Chapter 36   Birth in the Family, 1951

Chapter 37   Another Daughter, 1952

Chapter 38   Move to Illinois, 1952

Chapter 39   Waiting Again For A Home

Chapter 40   An Old Acquaintance

Chapter 41   North Dakota Moving Into Our Home

Chapter 42   Daily Living, 1953

Chapter 43   Homecoming

Chapter 44   Going Home to Canada

Chapter 45   From Fargo to Rockford, 1954

Chapter 46   An Unexpected Visitor, 1954

Chapter 47   New Job—New Friends, 1955

Chapter 48   A New Infidelity

Chapter 49   My Advent Into The Workplace

Chapter 50   Solutions, 1956

Chapter 51   Moving Back to Fargo

Chapter 52   Moving Back Into Our Own Home

Chapter 53   Important Connection 1957

Chapter 54   Back to the Farm 1959

Chapter 55   New Employments

Chapter 56   Some Consternation, 1959

Chapter 57   Family Matters, 1960

Chapter 58   The Inevitable Happens

Chapter 59   Dianna and Grace Lutheran School

Chapter 60   The Lela Story

Chapter 61   Beverly and the Merchandise Mart

Chapter 62   Moral Fiber, 1963

Chapter 63   Ongoing Kirsten Saga

Chapter 64   Summer Vacation in Gananoque

Chapter 65   Bismarck

Chapter 66   Kirsten’s Marriage

Chapter 67   Family Troubles

Chapter 68   Life On Hold

Chapter 69   Fawcett House 1970

Chapter 70   On the Move Again

Chapter 71   John’s New Venture

Chapter 72   City Living, 1974

Chapter 73   Introduction to Paul

Chapter 74   Life Changes

Chapter 75   Moving, Ever Moving

Chapter 76   Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

Chapter 77   He Returns

Chapter 78   Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 79   Our Home

Chapter 80   Traveling and Life Changes

Chapter 81   Arlene Visiting The Island

Chapter 82   Discussion of the Inheritance

Chapter 83   The Need to Expand My Life

Chapter 84   Eric & the Foosball Parlor

Chapter 85   Spirituality Group

Chapter 86   Josie’s Funeral

Chapter 87   Lilly & Lutheran Social Services

Chapter 88   Moving Into The Log Home

Chapter 89   Xiyun Gao

Chapter 90   Chanhassen

Chapter 91   The Family Evolves

Chapter 92   Clouds On The Horizon

Chapter 93   Other Virgin Island Stories

Chapter 94   A Surprise Visit and Ontario Trip

Chapter 95   Earl

Chapter 96   Planning For The Future

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to the memory of Earl Anderson and his lifelong commitment to provide me with love and support at every juncture of my life after I became a part of the Anderson family and to all women everywhere who ask the question Who am I?. He also thought this should be a written as a novel.

People have always trusted me with their stories, and some have been included here, and I am entrusting you with mine. This is not only my story, but the stories of all those with whom I became closely associated during the course of my life, some causing me pain, others joy. This is also the story of many brief encounters that helped shape my life. Some of these people will never know how or why they became the warp and the woof that held the fabric together, shaping the person I was then and the person I have become.

Chapter 1

The Early Years

It was the spring of l923 when I was born, April 2lst to be exact, and this day would turn out to be Princess Elizabeth’s birthday as well. I was born at my Aunt Nellie’s house in Belleville, Ontario. I was the second daughter of Mabel Cox Drew and Thomas Ray Drew. My maternal grandparents were Dorothea Coulter and David Cox who were both deceased at the time of my birth. My father’s mother, Hannah Drew, was still living at this time. Before her marriage to Coffield Drew her maiden name was Johnson.

I know very little of my Coulter Cox ancestors. I do know that David Cox, my mother’s father, was born in Ireland and immigrated to Canada, perhaps during the potato famine. He helped lay the cornerstone for the parliament buildings in Ottawa. He married Dorothea Coulter and they homesteaded near Mountain Grove, Ontario. They brought up ten children on the farm, five boys and five girls, my mother being the youngest. Sometime during those years my grandfather was notified that he had inherited a castle in Ireland. Although a Coulter relative offered to pay for his passage, he made the decision not to pursue it, which was probably wise. I know nothing of Coffield Drew other than that he was my grandmother’s husband. He was Irish and she was English. They had three boys and two girls. My father was the youngest of this family. My grandmother Drew remained on the homestead until the time of her death, which occurred at the age of eighty-two.

When I was two months old my mother had a mental breakdown and was hospitalized for nine months. During this period I was cared for by my Uncle Dave and Aunt Hattie. Uncle Dave was the youngest of my mother’s brothers and had been given instructions by their mother, at the time of her death, to always take care of Mabel. I expect this included Mabel’s children as well. Since they were childless, they were more than happy to lavish their love and attention on me and any other children who came within arm’s length, which turned out to be quite a few in the ensuing years. I was too young to remember any of the feelings I may have had, but there were many stories told and retold detailing how smart and good I was. Our bonding continued for many years.

While I was with Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave my sister Elaine, who was 14 months older than me, spent this time at our Grandmother Drew’s farm in the care of Aunt Mamie. This was not too far distant from where I was living and both places were about an equal distance to the nearest post office and general store in the village of Mountain Grove. I was with Uncle Dave and Aunt Hattie for almost a year before Mother was pronounced well enough to take up her duties as wife and mother. I do not believe that I ever bonded with her in the same way that I had with Aunt Hattie. My early pictures attest to the fact that I always looked a little sad. However, I was never treated differently from my sister by my mother. Everything was done exactly the same for both of us, but I have come to believe that there was a closeness between them that did not exist between my mother and her other children.

Chapter 2

Moving to Roblindale, Shannonville & Beyond

My father was too young to join the army so he lied about his age and enlisted to fight against the Kaiser in World War I. It was not until I read Birdsong, a vivid account of that war in the trenches, that I knew what my father had suffered. He never talked about the war with me or his other children. However, I learned that he tried to talk about it with my mother when he returned from France, but she did not want to listen because it was just too awful, as indeed it was. They were not married before he went to France. He was already working for the Canadian Pacific Railway as a telegrapher when I was born. In the early years he did not have seniority so we moved quite often, always to and from a number of small towns in Ontario. Roblindale was the first town that I remember and it was where my sister Dauphine was born when I was three years old. Our next move was to Shannonville. This was about a year later because I remember this is when Elaine started school.

My parents, especially my father, were active in the Anglican Church. Our neighbors were a Methodist clergy family with four rowdy boys. One day my mother caught them on our front porch in the act of raising my younger sister’s skirt. I’m not sure what their intentions were because it was all so confusing to me. To avoid my mother’s wrath, they took off for home in a big hurry never to be seen on our front porch again. Needless to say, my mother was relieved when this family was replaced with another of superior refinement and one with whom she could associate. They had a son who was a paragon of virtue and with whom we were allowed to play. My mother by nature was a perfectionist. She wanted her house to be perfect, her relationships to be perfect, and above all, she wanted her children to be perfect. To this end she subscribed to a strict form of discipline. Table manners were enforced by a strap kept at her side as she presided over the family meals. We were not to speak unless spoken to and were never, never to interrupt. To achieve her high expectations she would enlist our father’s help. If we were naughty during the day he was to spank us when he returned from work. I don’t think this was a duty he looked forward to. There was a time when my sister Elaine and I were both punished for telling a lie because it could not be determined which of us was telling the truth. She does not remember this as she had been justly punished, whereas I having been unjustly punished remember I had been the truthful one.

Another time that I felt we were not deserving of such harsh methods was when our Kingston cousins were visiting. (I was about four or five.) We had decided that we would like to walk to our Uncle Bill’s house which happened to be some miles away and we had to travel along the highway. The adults were busily engaged in talking about politics, as was their custom when they were gathered together. Therefore they did not hear us when we told them of our plans. Perhaps we did not speak loudly enough. However, they certainly knew where to find us because they arrived on the scene just as we entered Uncle Bill’s yard. We were whisked away immediately, not given time to say hello. We were all roundly spanked. This was a new experience for our cousins as their parents were usually quite lenient. I expect they felt compelled to follow the discretion of our mother and father since they were visiting in our home.

It was at Shannonville that I ran away to join my sister Elaine at school. The teacher contacted my mother to let her know where I was and allowed me to stay for the rest of the day. I was anxious to start school and did so in the next small town where we moved, Newtonville.

During this time Patsy was born at the Belleville General Hospital so we became a family with four girls. While we were living in Shannonville, we all came down with whooping cough. Aunt Hattie was called upon to assist us. It was too big a task for mother to deal with four coughing children, even though she had day-help. We all did recover, but I was especially hit hard and could not eat. Bananas became the only food I could tolerate and I lost weight and was never again the chubby little girl that appears in earlier photographs. This was a dreaded disease when we were young, but with the advent of inoculations it has become a thing of the past. We also frequently faced tonsillitis while we lived at Shannonville, so we were all admitted to the hospital in Belleville and had our tonsils removed. This seemed to be the remedy of choice in the nineteen twenties. While I was there I developed an earache and was given a hot water bottle which leaked all over the bed, soaking not only me, but the bed linens as well. Not one of the most endearing memories of my childhood.

My Aunt Mamie was hospitalized with mental illness while we were in Shanonville. She was single, never married, and had always made her home with Grandma Drew and Uncle Bob on the farm. She had come to stay with us for awhile, probably thinking to get help. Although I was not immediately present, I do remember the family conference that was held with the doctor at our home at the time of her breakdown. I have a vivid memory of Uncle Bill yelling that his sister was not going to the Ontario Hospital for the insane. However, she did go and remained there for the rest of her life. This does not mean that she was actually insane, only that she was not functioning within the range of what we had come to believe was normal. I know very little about my aunt’s life. I learned that she was well liked and respected in her community. She may have had an unhappy love affair. She was the treasurer of the little Anglican Church at Mountain Grove and at one time was accused of taking funds. She was innocent and subsequently exonerated, but it did great damage to her spirit. I don’t think she ever recovered from the pain of those false accusations.

Newtonville and Newcastle

Our next move to Newtonville was rather uneventful except that Elaine found it difficult to change schools, as I would later when I had been doing it for a while. We learned to skate on the pond assisted by some older girls who had volunteered to help us. We were friends with a young boy next door and would have dinner with him and his family. I kept trying to call Aunt Hattie on the telephone. The operator kept asking me for a number but I insisted that I just wanted my Aunt Hattie.

On to Newcastle where we did not remain a family of four girls for long as our mother delivered twins, one of whom was a boy. We were allowed to go to the hospital at Bowmanville to see the babies. Now we had Raye and Faye. When they returned home Mother spent most of her time in the nursery with the twins and was too busy to continue her role as a strict disciplinarian. I do not remember ever being spanked again. Cousin Catherine, one of Uncle John’s children (my mother’s oldest brother) arrived to take over the housekeeping and to see to the needs of the rest of us. She was strict but not unkind. She saw that we made our beds and washed and dried dishes for which we were given a small allowance. Upon returning from work my father would load us all in the car and take us to get ice cream. This was a rare treat and something we looked forward to.

As well as being enrolled in grammar school we went to Sunday school regularly. Mrs. Lindsay was the superintendent and a lovely lady she was. My mother had a great deal of respect for her. We were given workbooks and had to complete the lessons like regular schoolwork. Regular school was uneventful except for Valentine’s Day—I did not receive any valentines. Catherine tried to console me without much success. I also remember Elaine and I were very mean to a girl whose mother did ironing for us. We were acting like we were superior or better than she was. When I thought about this later, I was ashamed of my behavior.

While we lived in Newtonville and Newcastle, we visited Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave frequently and they also visited us. They were living in Oshawa at this time. They had left the homestead and Uncle Dave was working for General Motors. Aunt Hattie liked the city, but they were to return to the farm as Uncle Dave did not enjoy working and living in Oshawa. We would sometimes visit the farm which was now about two hundred miles distant from Oshawa. We were always very excited and happy to go there although the long car trip over rough and winding roads caused us to have motion sickness.

At Christmas time mother and Aunt Hattie would take us to Toronto to see Santa Claus. We traveled free on the train because of our father’s employment with the Canadian Pacific Railway. It was an exciting time for us. The windows of Eaton’s and Simpson’s department stores were splendid with automated toys and Santa’s elves doing their best to provide entertainment. The street was lined on both sides with happy children and adults of all ages who had come to see the parade, for the Santa Claus of those days was a joy to behold. He was truly a jolly old fellow as he was transported down Young Street in his sleigh behind his prancing reindeer. One time when we arrived at the station to begin our homeward journey, we discovered that the first train had departed without us. We spent the time in the Union Station huddled together on hard benches too exhausted to move. This did not dim the wonderful memory of all we had seen that day.

We were friends with another family who had a daughter around our age. Elaine and I were invited to their home for dinner. That was when I discovered they also had a retarded daughter who was made to sit on the stairway to eat while the rest of us were at the table. This made me uncomfortable and left a profound impression on me.

This was also a time when the medical profession had discovered polio and there was much consternation about what it was and how it was contracted. We were not allowed to go anywhere. There was so much fear about whether it was contagious and if so, how it was spread. Swimming holes, parks and other community establishments were closed. We were not allowed to eat fresh fruit.

Chapter 3

Belleville My First Encounter with Death

My father was soon to leave the railroad and take a job as an insurance salesman in Belleville. We rented a fairly large house with spacious grounds and a summer house where my father stayed at the time we were quarantined with diphtheria. Dr. Kronk, a shirttail relative of my father’s, cared for us during this time, coming to the house and giving us shots. Catherine was still with us and resumed her role as keeper of the house. My sisters and I took turns pushing the twins in their double carriage around the neighborhood. This allowed us the opportunity to become acquainted with the Whalen family who lived across the street. My mother was proud of the fact that she had such a good friendship with Mrs. Whalen in spite of the fact that Mrs. Whalen was Catholic.

My mother’s sister, our Aunt Nellie, also lived in Belleville with her family. Her oldest daughter Margaret was a beautiful, talented young woman whose life was taken from her by tuberculosis. Before her death she lived in a tent in their back yard, fresh air having been the prescribed treatment for this disease. The tent had been erected on a hardwood platform and was furnished with chairs, a dresser and bed. We would visit with her there the summer before she died. She was always lovely, cheerful and happy to see us. Years later my mother was to tell me of her unhappy love affair with a man who was married to someone else. I wish I knew more of her story because she was only in her thirties when she died.

Not long after Margaret’s death, my sister Faye, Raye’s twin, died in my mother’s arms as she was taking her out of the bath. She had a convulsion from which she did not recover. At this time doctors made house calls and when we were sick with diphtheria we were all given shots. The vials were later found by my mother and she said that some of them were out of date and mother wondered if this was the reason for Faye’s death. She was just two years old and had never shown any signs of illness. This was a painful time for all of us. At first, having been steeped in the stories of the Bible, I was able to visualize her as an angel in heaven with Jesus. This helped me through the initial shock of her death, but then I started to feel guilty about an incident that occurred when I was caring for her one day and trying to get her to sleep. She would constantly stand up in her crib and I would go in and lay her down again. This went on for some time and in my frustration I gave her a spanking. I was probably ten years old. I did not talk to anyone about my feelings.

When Faye died Aunt Hattie came to stay with us, taking charge of the household along with Catherine. They provided food for the relatives and visitors who arrived for the wake. My mother was heavily sedated and confined to her bedroom. I can’t place my father in all of this, but I know that we children were not ministered to by any adult including the Rev. Mr. Wright, the Anglican minister. The children were at loose ends, my mother was incapacitated and my father was not around.

In the nineteen twenties it was common to have the funeral in one’s own home and so Faye’s coffin was placed in the parlor. I ventured in there one day and stood looking down at her. She appeared to be sleeping, but when I put out my hand to touch her face I pulled back in horror. Her little face was so cold and hard. She was indeed dead. I was in shock, but I never talked about it. I am sure I thought that I wasn’t supposed to be in there and that there was some rule against it that I was not aware of.

Sometime later we moved to a different house. My mother may have thought to escape from her depression by changing her environment. The house we moved to was a nice spacious dwelling. However, we were not there very long when we discovered that we were in the King George school district where we definitely did not want to be, so we moved again to the east side of Belleville where we attended Queen Ann School. We were adjusting rather well when my parents decided to buy a house on the west side of Belleville, so we were back at Queen Mary School where we were more comfortable.

Catherine did not make the move with us after Yeoman Street, so we had a succession of maids to help with the household chores. None of them lasted very long. During this time my mother gave me a lovely birthday party. The house was decorated and my friends were on hand to help me celebrate. It was the first and only birthday celebration that I remember, perhaps because it was followed by my mother’s second breakdown when she was again hospitalized for a period of four years.

Chapter 4

The Years on the Farm 1935-1951

During the four years that mother was hospitalized we all went to Aunt Hattie’s to live. The one exception was my sister Elaine who returned to Belleville when she started high school and made her home with Aunt Nellie. Uncle Dave had arrived to take us to the farm. During the drive he had an opportunity to talk to us regarding the big responsibility that Aunt Hattie was taking on, with five children to care for. He admonished us to try to make things as easy as possible for her and I think we did take the message to heart as we tried to live up to the expectations that had been placed upon us.

The farm house was nestled at the bottom of a long hill. It was a square unpainted structure, gray with age. Outside the house by the summer kitchen stood a large iron potash kettle for catching rainwater. This was the water source for doing laundry and taking baths. If the kettle was dry Uncle Dave would haul water from the lake to fill it. The inside of the house consisted of a kitchen, dining/living room and three bedrooms upstairs. The house was heated by a wood cooking stove in the kitchen and another wood parlor stove in the living area. From this a chimney extended through the ceiling to the upper level to heat the bedrooms. There was no electricity. In the evening the rooms were lit with coal oil lamps. The water was hauled in buckets from a spring some yards from the house, where it was bubbling with clear cool water under a gigantic pine tree. And, of course, there was no plumbing. This meant that we had to use an outdoor toilet and had chamber pots underneath the beds. Our baths were taken once a week in a large tub placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. None of these disadvantages dimmed the excitement we felt about living on the farm. Since other farms in the area were not better equipped with modern conveniences it seemed natural and right.

Aunt Hattie was a rather large woman, or so she seemed to me at the time. She was very affectionate with all of us but especially with my two year old brother Raye. At the same time, she expected everyone to respond quickly to any and all requests. Someone was later to describe her as the cookie person in my life although her specialty was raspberry pie. She was a prolific baker and cook so her pantry had the most delicious aroma. We loved all of the farm animals and especially the horses. Uncle Dave would give us rides on Topsy. We couldn’t understand why her belly was so big and asked questions concerning this. We had never seen a pregnant horse before. Uncle Dave declared that she would lose that presently, which she did when her colt was born. We named him Don. I also became attached to a little dog named Laddy who slept on my bed which I shared with my sister Dauphine. When I left to go home four years later, my uncle told me he would jump on the bed and cry for me.

We attended a one room school house. Carl Henderson was our teacher. He became a good friend to all of us including our cousin David who had also come to live with Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave. David was from Toronto and had been sent to the farm for what we would now describe as rehabilitation. He had been caught stealing bananas off the back of a truck. Carl would come to the house to help David with his studies so that he could pass the entrance exams for high school. After they were through studying, he would stay on for awhile and play games with us. We played a lot of baseball. He became interested in me in particular because I professed a desire to learn to fly. He sent me magazines on flying after I returned to Belleville. Autograph Books were very popular at this time and Carl wrote something in my book that I was never to forget.

"This above all: to thine own self be true . . .

Thou canst not then be false to any man’’

William Shakespeare (1564-1616) ‘Hamlet,’ Act I, Scene III

Chapter 5

Outdoor Life

At the farm we spent most of our time out of doors. The pastures bordered a lake and in the opposite direction there were steep hills that were heavily forested. The lake was a constant joy for me. Swimming and boating were my chief delights, even though our water craft was only an old rowboat. Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave trusted us to go alone to the lake and we did not disappoint them. We had been taught how to manage a boat, not to stand up or to change places once we were out in the water and never, never to rock the boat. Even my cousin Gracie, Aunt Nellie’s youngest daughter, risk taker that she was, abided by the rules.

In the summer we would go with Uncle Dave to pick wild raspberries. When our small pails were full we would dump the contents into his larger pail. When I think of those times I am impressed with the natural psychology he employed to promote production. To give us a sense of accomplishment he gave us small pails to fill then emptied them into his large pail. Upon returning home with our bounty Aunt Hattie would proceed to make raspberry pies. When they came out of the oven and cooled enough for consumption, she would cut them in quarters, each of us getting a quarter of a pie. To this day I do not understand why we were such scrawny little creatures; we ate so much, not only pies but cakes, tarts and cookies as well as our regular meals. Another memory of Uncle Dave that remains dear to my heart is his great patience in taking five little girls fishing, baiting every hook and taking the fish off the lines when we caught something. We would always return from the lake after dark, walking through the woods by the light from a lantern that Uncle Dave carried. We did not encounter any wild cats on our way home although there were many rumors of sightings in the area.

There were always a number of relatives visiting the farm. The most frequent visitors were Aunt Nellie, Uncle Arthur and our cousin Gracie. They brought Elaine with them on these weekends. We never liked Uncle Arthur. He teased dogs, cats and children and was verbally abusive to Aunt Nellie. He was the only male relative I ever knew to do so. The other nine uncles treated their wives with respect. I grew up with the expectation that I would be treated likewise. The children slept in the barn on the occasions that the house became overcrowded. Although there was probably room for us to bed down indoors we liked the excitement of sleeping in the haymow. We did a lot of singing, telling jokes and stories and generally having a good time with our cousins. Many nights there were seven of us not sleeping a great deal in that haymow.

Aunt Hattie made many beautiful quilts by hand. Uncle Dave cut out all the little pieces with great precision. This was a winter occupation. However, in the summer she would have us carding the wool for the interior of the quilts. When a quilt was ready to be finished, only the best quilters were allowed to work on it. The stitches had to be very fine and close together, no sloppy long stitches would do. While my aunt and all the neighbor women worked on the quilts, we children would play cards or read. We played a game called Pedro where there was bidding involved. We would sometimes become quite boisterous and we would often catch Cousin Gracie cheating. Uncle Dave rarely disciplined us. He left this to Aunt Hattie whose method was to tell us to go sit on a chair until the clock struck. The clock chimed every hour so we always hoped it was five before the hour when this punishment was put into place. Sometimes we would get lucky. Our cousin Gracie was most often found to be sitting on a chair when she was around.

Christmas was a joyous occasion, Uncle Dave, having spotted the tree he wanted on one of his summer jaunts, had only to go out and cut it down when the time came. Since we did not have electricity we strung popcorn around the tree and hung delicate old fashioned bulbs on the branches. We made festive garlands out of colored crepe paper to hang from the ceiling. On Christmas Eve, in the middle of the night, Uncle Dave would go out to the barn to get the sleigh bells which he shook so that the younger children would know that Santa Claus was nearby. Aunt Hattie’s contribution of course was the food. She was known far and wide for her culinary expertise. The fruit cake was something we were allowed to help with, such as cutting and pitting the dates and taking a nibble now and then of the other fruits and nuts that went into this marvelous concoction. It was then placed in three pans of varying sizes and put into the oven. When they came out of the oven the cakes were placed one on top of the other forming a tier cake and then covered with ornamental frosting and decorated with red, green and silver berries. A birthday cake fit for a king.

There was much to be done in the summer. We helped put in the garden, planting all kinds of vegetables for immediate consumption and then the potatoes when harvested would be put in the root cellar. This was a cold dark place under the house with access from the outside. Aunt Hattie canned the vegetables and fruits that were purchased. She also canned venison that was procured by the hunting expedition in the fall. In the summer the rhubarb wine that Uncle Dave made was also kept in the cellar. It was a delicious cold drink but we were only allowed a small juice glass filled half way when it was served at the dinner table.

Another late summer activity included haying which was done with the farm horses pulling the hayrack with both Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave working to load the hay to take to the barn. David was a great source of help. He was big enough to pull his own weight. Often when there was company for the weekend the men who came would help with the haying and other chores. In the winter Uncle Dave cut wood that could be sold to the lumber mill and in the spring the maple trees were tapped to make maple syrup. Cream was obtained by separating the cream from the milk. This was done by a machine called a separator which had a crank that was turned by hand. Cream was then sold to the creamery. Of course, there were hens to lay eggs, some of which were used and others sold to the grocers. In this way they eked out a living. We never felt deprived. We always had plenty to eat and drink and clothes to wear which included Halloween costumes that Aunt Hattie made for us. She was not a natural seamstress so this was beyond the call of duty.

One of the highlights of the day was the arrival of the mailman. At the time he was expected Aunt Hattie would keep an eye on the road to know whether he was on time. She loved getting the newspaper. She would read it from cover to cover. She was also an inveterate gossip. When we got the telephone, it was a party line so she would listen in to the conversations of her neighbors.

Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave did their shopping on Saturday evening after the chores were done. We all looked forward to going to the village where we hoped to see our friends and catch a glimpse of a young man we were fond of. Although we didn’t know Harold Steele except from watching him play ball, we were ever hopeful that he would notice us. The general store was the meeting place for the people from the village as well as the farm families who came there on Saturday evening for their supplies. Since we were all very shy, it was a challenge for us to enter the store to be stared at by so many people. These were people who knew who we were but whom we did not always know. We were expected to speak to everyone nonetheless. Aunt Hattie would later hear from those who felt they had been snubbed by Mabel’s youngsters and we were expected to try harder the next time not to miss anyone. This has remained a lifelong challenge for me-facing and speaking with an audience of any significance.

During the time we were at the farm my mother’s older sister Annie came to visit from Manitoba. There was great excitement as she had not been home for many years. There was also some anxiety regarding her penchant for preaching as she had joined the Pentecostal Church and was expected to try to save all of us, something that would make Aunt Hattie and Uncle Dave uncomfortable. However, everything was very low key and her visit was heralded as a great success, aside from the fact that my mother, the youngest member of the family could not be present.

A few times our father took us to Kingston to visit our mother and this did not prove to be successful. I think he was hopeful that upon seeing us she would respond in some positive way to our presence; she did not. She was totally oblivious to anything going on around her. We did not sense that she was glad to see us or that she knew who we were. She was immersed in her own silent world and did not choose to leave whatever comfortable space she was presently dwelling in. I don’t remember having any particular feelings about this. I just accepted the fact that she was ill.

Chapter 6

The Play and David’s Missteps

Every summer Uncle Dave built an outdoor room for dining. There was also enough space for a couch and a couple of rocking chairs. This room was made from small cedar trees woven together. The roof was covered with tar paper and little cedar trees were placed on top. It was a cool and comfortable place to relax and it was there that we got our first taste of rhubarb wine. It was there, too, that we were allowed to perform for the neighbors in a play about the shenanigans of a butler, a play that I wrote. It was boring, to say the very least but was redeemed by Aunt Hattie’s homemade ice cream.

One of the ways that we helped on the farm was to bring the cows in for milking. We often had to run through the woods to get to a particular pasture where they were grazing. One time David and I were going together. He had taken some rhubarb wine from the cellar and was giving me some of it to drink. While I was sitting on the grass enjoying a sip, he pulled me over and was leaning on top of me. He said he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I was only fourteen and I wasn’t sure what he meant by this and before he could carry it any further I struggled to my feet. I ended up crying and telling him that my cousin Louie Villard was my friend and he never asked anything more of me. David was scared. He begged me not to tell Aunt Hattie since she would kill him if she knew. I was so naïve I didn’t really understand what I wasn’t supposed to tell her. I only knew that I was frightened, but I agreed not to say anything. I learned later that he had tried this with my sisters and Cousin Gracie. David was actually very shy and must have been beset by raging hormones at this time because he couldn’t have been more than 17. He didn’t know what to do about it except to hit on his cousins. As soon as we resisted he backed off and there were never any more incidents of this kind. He turned out to be a nice young man, eventually going home to Toronto, working for the transit system and taking care of his mother in her old age. He did eventually marry after his mother died.

My sister Dauphine and I played with paper dolls, creating families, giving them names, a town in which they lived and a newspaper to record their stories. This was probably my first attempt at putting words on paper, oh, and the awful play of course.

Chapter 7

Grandma Drew

It was while we were living at Mountain Grove that we spent the most time with our Grandmother Drew. Aunt Hattie always insisted that we see her on a regular basis. She lived on a small farm with her oldest son Bob. The old part of the house was made of logs. It consisted of one long room that held the dining room furniture at one end and the sofa, chairs, tables and a gramophone at the other end. There were two bedrooms along one side of the house and there was an attic where Uncle Bob slept when he was not sleeping on the horsehair chaise in the kitchen. He was not very active except to man the machine that separated the cream from the milk. He was a good carpenter and would, from time to time, occupy himself with building a house or two. The kitchen was a new addition. This was a large room and besides the cupboard, table and chairs, there was the milk separator and the aforementioned horsehair chaise. There was also a large cook stove with a wood box alongside it. At one end of the stove there was a small reservoir which held water that was constantly being heated as long as the fire was tended.

Grandma Drew did not express any particular delight when we arrived for a visit. However, we knew she was glad to have us as she always scurried around and found some little gift for us as we were leaving. She was a tiny woman with great energy. She milked six or seven cows daily and put in the garden, keeping it free of weeds, in addition to doing all the cooking and laundry for herself and Bob. She continued this way until her death at age eighty two. In recent years I have begun to wonder if she had any introspective life of thoughts and feelings that we were not aware of, something that kept her sane.

Some of the time when we visited Grandma, our cousin Doug, who was 17 or 18 years old, would be there and it was a challenge for us to be around him. He would make clothes for us out of sackcloth which we were required to wear. He would take us into the woods and then run off, leaving us to fret about how we would get back to the house. He did provide us with whistles he had made so that we could call him to come and rescue us. Doug also gave us rides in the wheelbarrow, but he required payment and so made us pick a thistle with our bare hands. Since Dauphine was the youngest he always cut the thistle for her with his jackknife. He liked to eat outdoors so he made a fireplace out of some bricks he had salvaged from the building site of the old Anglican Church. He would take things from the garden and cook meals in the pasture. One day when we were out there and he was preparing food my sister Dauphine and I told him we could not drink tea with our meal, we had to have milk. He promptly set off to lasso a cow. He rode it around the pasture for a while until it calmed down enough for him to milk it. We got our milk, Doug got a sore neck, and that evening Grandma wondered why that particular cow wasn’t producing any milk.

Our Kingston cousins would often be at Grams—Nadine, Phyllis, Louie and Audrey—but, with the exception of Louie, none of them stayed more than the weekend while their parents were present. Louie did not like to stay alone either so he always asked me to be his companion. We were good friends and I so often had to go to bat for him with Aunt Emma, his mother. Whenever Audrey cried Aunt Emma would exclaim, without knowing the details, What has that Lou done now! I was also good friends with Audrey and spent time in Kingston with their family as did my sister Elaine. Aunt Emma was very good to us while mother was hospitalized. After mother returned home, our families were estranged. In retrospect I think it was because my mother never recovered from the feeling that everyone looked down on her because of her mental illness. She was never able to go into society or entertain in her home again and my father always stayed at home with her. I think he would have been a more social person if not for the need to be there for my mother.

While we were living on the farm, Elaine and I were allowed to visit our cousins in Kingston. This was an exciting expedition for us as we perceived them to be very sophisticated. Aunt Emma was our father’s sister and her husband Uncle Louie Villard was a tall handsome Frenchman. Nadine, the oldest daughter, was tall and very beautiful, next to Phyllis who was also quite tall but not so good looking. Then there was Louie Jr. who was Elaine’s age and Audrey who was younger than me. However, the whole family treated us as if we were adults. It was a time when women were beginning to experiment with smoking. There were cigarettes in ivory boxes on the table and Elaine and I would stand in front of a mirror and pretend we were Bette Davis.

Their home was a row house directly across the street from Lake Ontario. There were many yachts that made their way across the lake from New York. Wealthy men would often sail into the harbor and anchor directly across from