Category: Memories

(from Wayne’s Storyworth memories)

These events happened a lot on our farm in the 60’s. Mom was terrified of them. She would get us all out of bed and down to the living room. Often the power was out so we all sat in the dark till it has over. In the dark you could look out the window and watch the lightning racing across the sky.

You would often see Beatrice, Melvin and Randy Sullivan driving around in the middle of the night. Beatrice was so afraid she wouldn’t even stay in the house. The belief was that because a car has rubber tires ,the lightning won’t hit it. Google says this isn’t true but you are protected by the steel shell of the car around you (so don’t drive around in your corvette, they’re fiberglass ).

Buster [the dog] was terrified of thunder and lightning too. He would chew at the corner of the screen door on the porch, to be let in. Dad would let him in. Sometimes he’d make it all the way through the porch into the main house with us, where he wanted to be. It was great fun watching mom chase him around the house with a broom ,to get him back in the porch. Round and around they’d go. I was always cheering for Buster.

One time Basil Mclaren called dad to take a look at what had happened to his house. I went along. The lightning had struck a big White Pine tree behind his place. You could see the burned black strip ,with no bark left on it, down the side of the tree. Then the black strip followed a root from the tree ,across the lawn ,straight over to Basil’s house. It then jumped from the root to an outdoor plug on his house. It blew out his electrical panel. But he was lucky no fire had started.

In 1969 it hit the pole in Emmett’s yard while I was staying there.

When I worked at the Kidd Creek Met Site (1975) it hit our hi voltage line , jumped to the chain link fence around the perimeter of the property and welded all the chains and pad locks together on the steel fence gates. We got a call from the Locomotive operators wanting to know why we had welded their gates shut (of course it had to be the electrical guys playing a trick on them).

Once on the farm the lightning hit something in the back field close to Fichault and our property line. The whole bush there was lit up and stayed lit up. Dad figured the bush was on fire. He got the tractor and cart hooked up. He loaded it up with his chainsaw and two shovels . Told buster to stay home (buster didn’t argue). And off we went to save the farm. When we topped the hill you could see the whole bush lit up brightly. Sort of flashing between bright and dim It didn’t really look like a fire. When we got closer you could see it was coming from a broken power line that was laying on the ground and arcing at one spot. He told me to stay back by the tractor. Dad put out a small fire on a log by shoveling some dirt on it (being very careful to stay away from the power line). We returned home and dad called the electrcal guys to cut the power to the line and repair it. After everything was back to normal I went out to the site to take a look at the ground where the arcing was going on. What I found was a puddle of green glass. The arc hadturned the clay into glass.

Lightning rods were installed on some of our barns and on the house. They must have worked because we never got hit.

(Wayne’s Storyworth)

Before the government decided that only their supporters could sell milk , farmers had a way of making a few dollars by selling milk, cream and butter.(More on this in a future story about Chester).

We had many chores on the farm in the 60’s . I was six years old in 1960 and was expected to contribute to the vast enterprise of dads farm when I was able to walk and carry something. Often what I had gladly done to be more like dad quickly turned into something that I wished I had never learned how to do. Things like ,bringing in the wood , slopping the pigs, gathering eggs, shoveling shit, milking cows, and making butter.

I liked running the separator cause you just had to pour raw milk into it, turn the crank and watch the cream go into one pail and the milk go into another (there was a fly wheel in the separator so you didn’t need to turn the crank forever). You used a clean rag to strain the shit and flys out of the raw milk as you poured it into the separator (see the video on facebook.com/watch/?v=695736686004977).

The cream was carefully carried to the milk house and saved for a few days until you had enough to make some butter (The milk house was close to the farm house and was dug into the ground to keep the milk cooler than in the farm house).

We had all the things you needed to make butter. The wooden butter mold must have been made by somebodies great, great, grandpa. Once the butter was churned you would add salt to it and kneed the butter with your sterile hands and then pack it into the sterile wooden butter mold.

Yes of course we had a butter churn. The churn was a little bigger than a 5 gallon pail and like the separator it had a crank on it. Inside the churn was two wooden paddles with holes in them. There was nothing modern like a fly wheel on the churn so you had to churn the crank continuously (hard to believe I found a picture of a churn just like it). Dad and mom both hated sitting there and churning that crank. They had better things to do and it was really boring. Of course they could delegate this job to the boy that was sitting there watching them work up a sweat. It seemed like you had to turn the crank for ever. As the milk thickened it became harder and harder to turn the crank. You would switch arms as one got tired. I really hated making butter. You could try to tell your little sister how much fun it was but that only worked once.

So what was I to do. I started crying and begged mom to not make me churn butter any more. Well mom always had my back. She pushed the request up the food chain to the wizard of the family, dad.

Dad got out his best haywire but couldn’t figure out how to do it with just haywire. This required something more hi-tech. The baler had a gas motor and some belts on it and that may have been his inspiration. Dad had an electric motor he has savaged from an old cloths dryer and some used fan belts from the tractor.

He attached the churn and the electric motor to a board about four feet long (used his best haywire). He hack sawed off the churns crank handle and replaced it with a pulley he found that fit the used belt. He had to buy the pulley to go on the electric motor because he couldn’t find one in the garage or granary that fit.

I know dad was afraid something might go wrong so we both moved as far away as we could get in the porch where the contraption was being tested and he had me stand behind him.. Dad filled the churn with fresh cream and plugged the electric motor into the wall .

Now for some basic engineering . The motor was most likely 1800 rpm since that is the most common speed used in cloths dryers . The two pulleys were pretty much the same diameter. This meant there was no speed reduction between the churn and the electric motor. So the old churn tried to spin up to 1800 rpm too.

As it accelerated some of the hay wire on the board let go. The wooden paddles in the churn went flying out of the top. The cream plastered the ceiling and the walls and us. Thank god the belt came off.

Dad put the project on hold for a while. But the cows kept making cream and now we had no handle to turn on the churn ( I was happy about this).

Dad patched up the churn (one wooden paddle was broken and the bottom a little dented). Dad figured out the need for some speed reduction between the electric motor and the churn. Looking at the clothes dryer you could see that the pulley on the churn needed to be much larger , like the size of the drum on the clothes dryer.

Where was he going to get a pulley this big. Well in the milk house loft there was an old spinning wheel. The wheel on spinning wheel might be just the size he needed.

Some how dad managed to mount the spinning wheel wheel on the churn where the crank had been.

For the next test we both stood outside the porch with me behind him (buster too) and the porch door closed. He used an extension cord and plugged it in (with just water in the churn this time).

Amazing . It worked perfectly. Now churning butter became a fun job and dad and mom could get back to farming.

Because of the milk laws there wasn’t any money to be made in milking ten cows. As time went by we ended up just milking one cow and there wasn’t enough cream to justify making butter any more.

The enemy

Answering the question, “What motivated you to go to graduate school?”

Well it is the 60’s . It’s Christmas. I wake up and wait for dad to light the fire in the wood stoves. There was one in the kitchen and one in the living room . An annex and a box stove. After the down stairs warmed up a bit we were allowed down stairs to see what Santa had brought. Dad had to wait for Santa to come down the chimney before he lit the stoves or Santa wouldn’t come.

There it was – an electric train set. I couldn’t believe it. It went around and around and you had to plug it into the wall to get electricity. It made smoke that smelled wonderful like diesel fuel. It had an electric head light and a transformer. The transformer converted the 120vac from the wall into 16vac for the train engine, the light, and the heater for the smoke. The transformer had a knob on it that you could turn to vary the voltage from 0 to 16 vac. This would slow the train to a stop or make it go faster. I had a great time with this train and played with it till I wore it out and it wouldn’t work any more. I tried everything to make it run again. Even stole a light bulb from Uncle Chester for it. Dad found out and made me give it back to Chester and say I was sorry. I was in deep shit. They made a big deal out of it. Going to teach me a lesson. Chester let me keep the light bulb in the end. 

    All of this fooling around with the train introduced me to electricity . I learned a lot from that train. I used what I learned to go on to wiring up flash lights . Fixing can openers . Fixing radio’s . Fixing just about anything that ran on electricity. I even started wiring houses after I took the electrical classes in high school. I was way ahead of the other guys in the class. Guess they never got an electric train for Christmas.

    In grade 13 I decided to quit school. I was bored and tired of being broke. I tried to get a job at Vance Refuses TV repair shop. He said no and told me to stay in school. The guidance teacher wasn’t any help. They gave me a test and said I should be a watch repair man or a Forester. He did give me a University of Waterloo course book to look at. I read the whole thing. I came across the course that described how to become an electrical engineer. I read it over and over. It was exactley what I wanted to be. 

    I quickly reversed my work at school and went from F to A+ on most of my courses . I typically got one F and three A+ . I missed the Ontario scholarship by one mark I got a 74 but needed a 75 average. I was accepted at Waterloo, Queens and U of T. The Co-op course at Waterloo was what I wanted anyway. We could afford it. (We being Mom, Dad and me)

I quit University twice but ended up going back both times. The last time I had a good job as an electrical apprentice at the Kidd Creek Metsite. It was so nice to have some money. The crew I was with was wonderful. They kept telling me I was stupid to not go back to school. I had one year left to do out of the four. My boss even said if I went back I would probably end up being his boss. 

    So I got married and headed back to school. We used Rita’s Canada Savings Bond to pay the rent at the University married students’ residence. Dad had sold me his car for a dollar the last time I went back so we had that.

Aunty Joe used to send me $50 bucks a month. Mom and dad sent me money when ever I ran out. I had some savings from working so we didn’t need much.

After I graduated, Kidd Creek hired me back as an Electrical Engineer and I was my old boss’s Boss.

The first project they gave me was to get Engine 052, one of their three diesel electric engines, running again. It had been sabotaged by a pissed off electrician that I had worked with in the past as an apprentice. He told me I would never figure out what he had done. It took me a month but I found the little wire he had removed and got 052 running again. During the trouble shooting, we lit the engine on fire twice . The second time the train operator jumped out of the engine. But we were ready with our fire extinguishers. We had walky-talkies.

“053, 053. This is 052 come in please.”

”052. This is 053. What’s your problem?”

“053 this is 052. We need you to tow us back to the shop again.”

“10-4.”

It was pretty embarrassing stuff. 

So my little electric train set got me on the rigth track to be able to fix a real 1000 hp “Montreal Locomotive Works” Engine. 

The electrician (Benny) that removed the little wire bought me a beer and saluted me.

Answering the question “Have you ver feared for your life?”

Dads tractor had no brakes among other broken stuff .

Learning to drive this way was truly dangerous. Its funny how it became normal to expect things to suddenly go from boring to near death in a few seconds on the farm. 

We were haying in the back field which required going over a hill to get to and from the field. 

The normal setup was Dad on the tractor pulling the baler with Emmett on the wagon behind the baler stacking the bales. The second tractor sat idle. This time they took the wagon off the baler and Emmett and I started back to the barn with me driving dad’s tractor. Dad must have taken Emmett’s tractor back to the barn or stayed behind to rake more hay or do something with it. 

He normally would have driven the load back to the barn with Emmett and I sitting on the loaded wagon. I was sort of in-training and they were trying to get both tractors working at the same time. This later turned into me raking with one tractor while they baled with the other.

Anyway I had been told to never use 4th gear when going down the hill. Also to never shift gears when going down the hill. Today I wondered why. I was often told things to do or not to do but most times I was not told why. It was like they were so busy, they didn’t have time to explain why or they figured I wasn’t old enough to understand why. 

It was slow going in 3rd gear so I though I’d try 4th just to speed things up a bit. Emmett was sitting on the top of the load of bales on the wagon behind me. I was already in 4th so I didn’t shift to 3rd as we crested the hill. Down we went. The tractor and wagon and me and Emmett accelerated down the hill. I knew enough not to try shifting to 3rd at this high speed cause then it would get stuck in neutral and the engine would not be able to slow the descent at all. At some point one of the wheels on the wagon broke. It was a spoked wheel and the welds that held the spokes to the rim broke. The rim rolled past me down the hill all on its own. One corner of the wagon dropped and dug into the ground. The load of hay Emmett was sitting on flew off the wagon with Emmett still sitting on it. It was like he was flying through the air sitting on a flying carpet made of hay bales. I can still see him if I close my eyes. Boy can Emmett swear! Emmett said swears that I’d never heard before. Most were being yelled as he flew through the air. He landed pretty softly on all the hay bales thank god. I though he was going to kill me. In the end it was just another day on the farm . Nobody got hurt. I was pretty sure I could out run Emmett anyway.

Lets see.

Getting my Electric Train.

Getting my Mold Master.

Using Wendy’s Easy Bake Oven.

Getting my Red Tractor when I was two(That I still have)

Christmas in General

Phillip coming for a visit in the summer (we built the tree house together)

The sound of rain on the roof (I could sleep in, didn’t have to work)

Hiding in my tree house (having a smoke).

Building the tree house.

Learning to drive the tractor ( I was about 5 )

Going swimming at Joe and Jake’s

Going swimming at Edna and Cliff’s

Going swimming at Champlain park and a picnic too.

Going swimming at Pimsey Bay and a picnic too.

Going swimming at Lake Talon Dock

Going swimming at Greens camp on Lake Talon 

Going swimming at the Mawhiney’s cottage

Uncle Cliff passing out fire crackers at Mawhiney’s cottage

Uncle Jake marching out of the bush blowing his bag pipes at  Mawhiney’s cottage (bag pipes make me cry)

Going fishing in the Blue Sea Creek.

Watching Grandpa Smith carve a stock for a .22 rife barrel I found in the milk house loft. He convinced dad I was old enough to have the rifle when he was finished. Guess I was around 10.

Buster was with me every where I went on the farm. Our favorite past time was hunting ground hogs before and after I got the gun. (I miss Buster)

Some explanations.

Dad worked from sun up to sun down. So to get any time with him you had to work with him or for him. That is unless he was forced to take some time off for a picnic.

Bath day was on the week end. I was the dirtiest  so I got the bath water after all the girls had used it. If you went swimming at the lake you got to use nice clean fresh smelling water all of your own. Emmett had no bath tub so swimming was the only way to wash the chaff off.

The memory of the smell of Lilacs coming through my bed room window still makes me go out and steal some branches from somewhere every spring. This year it was the Kinsman’s park down town Saskatoon.

I had two little flocks of banty hens (around 10 each). One outside and one inside the hen house.For some real excitement I would put them all together and watch the roosters fight it out.

My bedroom from when I can remember till we moved away from Rutherglen when I was 13 in 1967. It was on the second floor north-east corner of the old farm house. Part of the ceiling was slanted to match the roof of the house. It had one window facing east. Had bunk beds with wagon wheels on them on the North side. Had a tall dresser on the south-west corner. Book shelf on north-east corner. Closet with a door north-west corner. 

I can remember catching fire flies and letting them go in my room at night. I could go to sleep with flashing lights on the ceiling. The room had a steel grate in the floor that you could remove and look into the dining room below. Even hang your head down and look around. I had a stash in this hole for my tobacco , papers etc. Wendy ratted me out. 

The window was above a huge lilac bush and close to our two crab apple trees. In the spring the wind would blow the scent of the flowers into my room . I still love that smell , lilac mixed with apple blossoms. The sound of the bees collecting pollen on the lilacs and apple trees would wake me up in the morning.  

Most nights my stuffed dog Buster and his little friend Beary Wary would talk me and Wendy to sleep. Beary was always telling Buster what he should be doing. Buster was big but not that smart. 

In the winter I would wait for dad to light the wood stove before I got out of bed.

The rest of the year I couldn’t wait to get up, find my real dog Buster outside and go exploring. So much to do. Check the garden and flower beds to see how much the plants had grown over night. Try and find where the cats were hiding their kittens. See if there were any new calves born last night. Feed the chickens . See if any eggs hatched. Feed the pig. Feed the calves . Feed the cows. Make sure all the animals had clean water. Shovel shit. Many different types of shit. Some of if used in the garden. All of it used for something. When all of that was done we would head into the bush to chase rabbits and ground hogs. Maybe spy on the fox den to try and see the fox kittens. Maybe bring the gun with us. Watch out for skunks and porcupines. Buster had a deep hatred for these two animals. He always wanted to take revenge on them. He always lost the battle however.

Oh yes . I was there several times. I can remember four.  It was a 20 mile drive from Rutherglen to the Civic Hospital in North Bay Ontario.

Once for stitches on my right knee. Caused by a peace of glass on the ground and wearing short pants . 

Once to get a sliver ( it was very large ) removed from beside my right eye. Caused by following Buster under a spruce tree without paying attention.

Once to get a burn on my back bandaged up. Caused by reaching across the kitchen table and bumping moms arm that was carrying a pot of hot pea soup above me. I think she was passing it to dad. She had to change the bandage every day for a week or so. It hurt like hell.

The last time was for a month or so in 1959. I was 5 years old an very nearly died from this accident. The “hay track” in the cow barn came off its track and hit me on the top of my head. The hay track is a complicated bit of machinery that carries around 10 bales of hay up off the wagon to the top of the ceiling in the barn and then south along a track to the hay loft in the cow barn. You pull a rope on it to release its load when it gets over where you want it dropped.  The cable attached to it is pulled by the tractor and hand signals are used to tell the tractor driver when to stop. The day before it hit me. Mom had been the tractor driver and had been day dreaming while driving . She missed the hand signal from Emmett and ripped the hay track off the end of its rail. Emmett put me on the tractor instead of mom after that. Dad patched of the hay track to get it running again but didn’t put the two wooden end stops back on because he was in a hurry. He told me to stay out of the hay loft but as usual didn’t tell me why. This was pretty normal on the farm . I just knew that something up there could likely kill me and dad didn’t have time to explain it to me.  Grandpa, Emmett, Dad, Chester where all the same that way. To not obey them was foolish.

My cousin from the city came to visit me the next day and wanted to play in the hay loft . We had previously swing on a rope hanging from the hay track and coasted across the loft.

I tried  to tell my cousin that dad had said not to go up there but he was from the city and didn’t under stand that a farm is a dangerous place and you need to do what your told. He also was two years older then me so I thought he knew more than me. We went up into the loft and he climbed the ladder and pulled the hay track toward him. It came off the track and nearly hit him and fell past him and hit me. There was blood every where. My cousin asked me if I wanted him to stay with me or go and get my dad. I told him to go get dad. He left me there. After he left I started to get scared and decided to try and get to the house myself. My right arm was parallelized but my legs and left arm where working. The hardest part was climbing down the logs from the loft to the ground wirh one arm. I almost fell but managed to do it and ran to the house . Carol and Wendy were in the kitchen when I walked in.  (see their comments)

Mom , Dad and me all loaded into the International School Bus. Mom held my head together to help stop the bleeding. Dad had to stop for gas at Corbeil . I remember the

guy that filled it up wouldn’t take any money he just waved dad on. He phoned the police for us. They met us at the North Bay Hwy 11/17 intersection. We had an escort with sirens all the way to the Civic Hospital. Once we got there they pricked my finger to get a blood sample and I can remember dad asking why they did that since there was blood all over the place. I don’t remember much  until I woke up after the surgery. I can remember a nurse saying there was two doctors and one wanted to just sew me up but the other wanted to open the wound and clean it out. The second doctor won. Thank goodness. We kept me in the hallway close to the nurses station . I got three shots of antibiotic every day for a week or so. After that they moved me into a room with Robbie Fisher (can’t believe I remember his name). Robbie had a broken leg with a cast on it. He had some neat toys so I climbed into bed with him. Next thing I know me, Robbie and the toys are all on the floor. They sent me home the next day . I was too much trouble.

Found the bill for when I was born in the hospital.

Also the bills for my hernia operation when I was three years old. The hernia operation worked for 60 years . Just had the same thing done over in Jan 29 2024. Hope it holds for another 60 years.

WENDY’S ADDITION TO THIS MEMORY…

When this happened, I was 3.  This is likely my earliest memory. 

Our electric washer and dryer were in the kitchen, and over these were cupboards. Mom had mirrors on the inside doors so you could do the back of your hair, and see the back of your head in the opposite mirror.  I was sitting on the washer/dryer, looking in a mirror, towards the entry door to the kitchen, while Carol was doing my hair. 

Wayne came in the door crying and covered in blood.  I repeat – I was 3!  In my mind, Wayne’s head was falling off.  My memory was Wayne’s head to one side and he was trying to flop his head back on his neck.  There was blood everywhere.  It was traumatic.

CAROL’S ADDITION TO THIS MEMORY…

I remember this well.   I was in the kitchen with Wendy when Wayne came in with blood on his face.  He wanted to look in the mirrors and wondered if he would die.  I, being older and wiser, left him looking at himself and ran out the door to find help.  Mom was in the garden and I screamed for her to come quick.  Wayne says Randy went for Dad but I don’t really remember Dad coming in,  just them getting in the car to go to North Bay.  Mom had on a redish dress I think that had blood on it when they returned.  

I think Dad was low on gas for the trip to North Bay and had to go to McLarens store for gas and I believe they called the police who escorted them into town.  

I think this is true.

In the beginning I tried to take piano lessons from Aunt Edna. This didn’t work out. I couldn’t sit still long enough. Music was all around me however when I was little. 

Uncle Emmett was an excellent fiddle player . He competed in fiddle contests in Mattawa and won a few. He also played at square dances . Its a shame he didn’t make use of this skill when he retired. I think he tried giving some lessons .I guess living in Rutherglen wasn’t a great place for a music teacher.

Elmo’s wife Marie was a fiddle player too. I heard her play in Alberta. She sounded a lot like Emmett , maybe they played together once upon a time. Elmo’s son Roy sang and played guitar (Roy sang a special song for his mom Marie, really well). Roy’s son Michael also sings and plays guitar. My Sister Wendy sings and plays guitar too. We all got together with Elmo’s children at Helgi’s farm close to Rimby in Alberta and made lots of noise.

Aunt Jo played the organ. She had two of them one at her cottage and one in North Bay. Uncle Jake played both the fiddle and the bag pipes . I heard them play together at their house in North Bay. They did  “A bicycle built for two” for me. It was beautiful.

We had a reunion once at the Mawhiney’s cottage. I saw Jake head into the bush with his gear not really paying much attention. Ten minutes latter this god awful noise came out of the bush and Jake marched out blowing his bag pipes. My kids had not experienced bag pipes before. Joey latched on to one of my legs and was hanging on for dear life. Not sure where Amy and Darren ran to. I had a good laugh. I still love the sound of bagpipes.

Aunt Edna played and taught piano.

Amy took piano lessons for a long time and got quite good at it.

For punishment we would send Joey to his room . It didn’t really work because he would happily play on his keyboard for hours. Joe can listen to an Eric Clapton rift and then play it on the guitar or mandolin. He tried the piano but got stage fright and froze up at his recital. He has a gift but doesn’t use it.

Me, I got my first guitar when I was ten . I now own six of them . I keep one at Amy’s and another at Joeys so I don’t have to fly with a guitar . I just have to bring my Harmonicas . I have a full set of harps and can play a lot of cover songs. Mostly Dylan, Petty, Neil, The Band, Ozark …Since my ears have been failing I haven’t been playing to much. Maybe I’ll figure something out and start playing again. I need some electronic ears that sound real.

Darren played lead guitar and was the song writer for the band “Oldbury” . Their music has all original . They played many gigs in Alberta. They opened for the Trews in front of 10,000 fans.

They also opened for Wide Mouth Mason, 54/40 , Trooper, Our Lady Peace. They tried real hard but didn’t quite make it. Darren has more guitars than me. Darren also played harp for Sonny Rhodes

My brother-in-law Tony Moeller , his son Mike  and I played a lot of guitar in Bracebridge and Baysville . Sometimes all night long. Drank many beers too. 

For Rita’s 60th birthday we got together in Bracebridge at my house (40 Kevin Cres.) . On guitars we had me, Tony, Mike, Wendy, On fake-drums we had Wendy’s husband Lorne ( Lorne Grossman is a professional percussionist. he played for Cats, Phantom of the Opera)  

So music has had a huge impact on my life and I hope it continues to. 

I suspect my granny Smith played piano but I never heard her . Somebody had to teach dads sisters to play.

I seem to member my sister Carol taking piano lessons from Aunt Edna.

I believe Uncle Jake’s sons , Keith and Dave Buchanan both play the bagpipes and I suspect they have passed the tradition of scaring little children on to their own children (Andrew, Jorden,…)

Yes we moved in 1968. I Was 13 and living in Rutherglen ,Ontario GPS co-ordinates 46.256409, -79.080538.

Dad and his brother Emmett ran 400 acres as partners . Dad also drove school bus to make ends meet.

Dad slipped a disk in his back throwing hay ,around the summer of 1966. The building they where putting the hay into was an old brick school house. It was never intended to store hay in . The windows where too small and too high off the ground. They should have knocked a bigger hole in the school house. It was difficult to throw a 50lb bale up and through the little window. I was watching dad when it happened. Emmett was on the inside where it was hotter .

Dad managed to get a job  as a custodian at a hospital in North Bay. Mom ,Emmett and me tried to keep the farm going but dad hadn’t taught me everything and Mom and Emmett where poor teachers. I was missing plowing and mowing , two of the more dangerous tasks. Mom never really wanted to be a farmer and Emmett would rather play the fiddle.

Dad got a better job in Porcupine as a 4th class stationary engineer. It was at the mental hospital there.

The farm was sold but all the animals were sold first. The horses had been sold already and Buster the dog got sick and had to be put down. I can remember the cows and calves being loaded into a big truck and taken off to auction.  These animals had all been my friends for 13 years so it was sad to see them all go. I remember how silent it was when they were gone. 

Dad sold his half of the equipment to Emmett.  

A Two furrow plough, disc harrow, tooth harrow, haymower, new holland rake, new holland baler, Otaco wagon, binder, Renfrew Scale, 2 Tractors(Cockshutt 20, Massey Harris 22)  . (Otaco Orillia Tudhope Anderson Company, a lot of the equipment was Otaco). Dad sold the manure spreader to somebody else because Emmett had no animals.

I remember dad sold the piano for $50 . After it was loaded the guy that bought it came over to dad and asked him what was really wrong with it . Dad didn’t know what to say, he just said nothings wrong with it.

Dad had rented a house at 226 Duke street in Porcupine ,where we stayed for a year while our house at 220 Queen street was being built.

Dad had sold the farm for $14,000 . The new house was $25,000.

I was with dad when he went to the bank to get a loan for  the $6000 .  I stayed outside in the car. He came out of the bank very angry . He said they wanted him to put up his car as collateral too. He said they weren’t going to take his car too. Dad went back to Rutherglen and borrowed the money from his Mason friends there. The mason’s helped dad a lot through this whole mess.

To me Porcupine was the big city. I missed all the animals and a lot of other things. The freedom to build what ever you want with out a bunch of inspectors telling you what to do. You could park your truck and trailer where ever you wanted. Room for a dog to run free and case rabbits. Go for a walk without getting into a fight. See the milky way at night . Smell new mowed hay. Catch fire flys at night. Here the sounds of silence. Wave at everybody that you meet on the road. Go hunting deer in your own back yard (without a license). Try out all the excellent home cooking at the neighbors homes during trashing or haying (I still make my own pickles).

Emmett gave up farming after dad moved away, he couldn’t do it by himself.

I almost forgot. Part of the move was 5 gallons of Potato Champagne that I had made and buried behind the play house. I dug it up and hid it in the trunk of the 1962 Pontiac for the trip to Porcupine. Half way to Porcupine the Pontiac hit a pot hole and I heard a cork pop in the trunk. Shortly there after the interior of the car filled with the wonderful smell of a gallon of Potato Champagne. Dad pulled the car over and found most of my stash in the trunk. He wasn’t too impressed. Dad didn’t find the six bottles I had hidden my suit case.

The best Christmas we had was when I rented the chalet on Sylvan Lake in Alberta. But I already told that story.

Most Christmas’s we managed to get together some where.

Red Deer , Bentwood Bay, Saskatoon . It depends a lot on the weather . Last year 2023 was great there was no snow believe it or not. We drove to Red Deer no problem. I can remember when we lived in Blind River we would load the kids into the car and head for Timmins then load them up again and head from Timmins to North Bay.  I did not look forward to this drive because the weather was always bad. We stopped doing this in Blind River and stayed home and had a wonderful Christmas with who ever was brave enough to make the trip to Blind River to see us.

When I was a kid in the 60’s we would go to Dads brother/sisters houses Aunt Edna or Aunt Joe or Aunt Hazel or mom would have them all over to our house. Emmett, Chester, Jake, Cliff too  . Elmo’s kids where usually there too Roy and Marian Smith , Alice and Kenny Mclaren . Grandpa would be there too. The Mawhineys. The Buchanans. It was possible to have four Christmas dinners every year.

Christmas was a big deal and a lot of fun. The house was full 

of relatives . Some we hadn’t seen since last Christmas. The food was unreal . Rita still makes moms pineapple,Velveeta cheese salad at Christmas. Uncle Cliff would make his Swedish meatballs.

If you went to see the Christmas parade in North Bay you could see Uncle Jake go marching by blowing his bag pipes. Dressed in his Buchanan plaid Kilt.

Uncle Jake worked for Boart Long Year drilling. Aunt Jo and him  would take Wendy and I to the Longyear Christmas party instead of Keith and David when they got too old.  (Aunt Jo always had my back. She sent me $50 every month I was in University. I still love the sound of Bagpipes but they make see cry now).