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Every once in a while, I try to find information about how Gramma Gallson would have be treated within an Ontario mental health facility between 1929 and 1960. Needless to say, information is next to impossible to find.

The being said, I did find an interesting article about this topic for the UK, which I am imagining, before the Ontario Mental Health Act of 1930, was likely in place.

https://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/news-and-features/blogs/detail/history-archives-and-library-blog/2020/09/09/90-years-ago-the-mental-treatment-act-1930-by-dr-claire-hilton

The Treatment Act of 1930 replaced the Lunacy Act 1890 which stipulated that anyone admitted had to be "certified" which required a magistrate's oversight - in other words, needed a warrant. Also, there was NO option for self-discharge.

My good friend Linda brought to my attention a limited series on Cary Grant that's available on Brit Box. She gave me a "trigger" warning, meaning to be prepared for something within the series that might trigger me emotionally. I watched it yesterday - "Archie" - a 4-episode series about the early life of Archibald Leach, born in Bristol, England, who's father committed his mother into an insane asylum in 1913, then told everyone she had died. Cary did not learn until he was 31 that his mother was still alive in the mental institution.

While there are some dramatized story lines in the series that are not factual, I wonder about the hospital conditions that Mrs. Leach lived. In the series, she was in a ward room with 6-8 other women, but they show her being treated with kindness and also show her as being VERY coherent and able to make lively and combative conversation, even after being in an asylum for 22 years.

Unfortunately, Gramma Gallson's story took a different path with Uncle Phill was told that his mother was "too far gone" and told not to even visit her.

Cary got his mother out of the hospital when he learned about her whereabouts and set her up in her own apartment in Bristol with a nurse and the help of his by-then half brother, as Cary's father "remarried" one year after Cary's mother was committed. Wikipedia says Cary's older brother died before Cary's was born of tuberculous meningitis two days before his first birthday, for which Cary's mother blamed herself bitterly and from then on, suffered from clinical depression.

I haven't been able to find further research into why women were institutionalized in the early 1900's in Ontario. But I have come across papers and research done in other countries. For instance, in Ireland, a paper was done on women being institutionalized during that time period.

I do think the key point here is advocacy - Gramma had no one advocating for her and only when Cary Grant became his mother's advocate, was she released.

Below is a great 8-minute video that summarizes what I've always thought of Judaism. But it wasn't until I saw the results of our daughter's DNA on Ancestry that it really hit me - Judaism is not a religion. It's actually in the DNA. It's who they are. Our daughter is a solid 50% Ashkenazi Jew.

The Jewish "religion" denies that our daughter is Jewish because I'm not a Jew and I'm the mother. That being said, biologically and DNAically, she IS half Jewish, and Hitler would not have argued.

I equate this to King Henry VIII who just told his subjects, "You are now protestant, or off with your head." And you either complied or died. Most complied and merely switched churches, or religions. Hitler knew right from the start, even if a Jew attended Catholic church, they were still a Jew. How is it the Hitler knew this and so many North American Jews don't know this?

I watched a news report a few years ago, an interview with a Jewish woman in Montreal after the Jewish cemetery was defaced. She said, "I don't understand why people do this to us. Its only a religion!"

"No, no!" I said. You are so wrong. And by saying that you undermine Judaism. Rudy Rochman in the video below makes a very clear comparison with the North American Indigenous people (which also shows up in your DNA). Even if the a North American Indigenous person rejects everything about being indigenous, they are still indigenous, because they are a "people" - not a religion. Yet, the Indigenous people have a religion or a believe system they can embrace.

This is the same as the Jews. They are a people, no matter what they believe in. And if they choose, they can embrace the religious beliefs of the Jewish people.

I've brought this up to my husband's family and relatives and I was VERY shocked to have them completely reject it, actually saying that Ancestry is a scam, that's there's no way Jewish DNA can be measured BECAUSE ITS JUST A RELIGION.

Here's a Q & A with my husband:

Do you believe in god? NO
Do you go to synagogue? NO
Do you follow any of the Jewish "religious" traditions? NO
Do you want to move to Israel? NO, BUT IF I WERE YOUNGER, I'D JOIN THE ISRAELI ARMY.
Do you consider yourself Polish? I'VE NEVER THOUGHT OF MYSELF AS POLISH.
Do you know anything about your Jewish heritage? ONLY WHAT YOU'VE TOLD ME.
Are you a Jew? YES!

The Jews are NOT indigenous to Israel. The Bedouins are. Here's a quote from nbcnews.com:

Israeli authorities concentrated those [Bedouins] who remained [after 1948] into a smaller patch of desert and later sought to move them into newly built townships. But many refused, reluctant to give up their ancient way of life.

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/arabs-living-israels-negev-desert-are-sitting-ducks-hamas-rcna120168

Sound familiar?

This is a great video in that it goes over the history of Jews in a very small nutshell.  The only issue I have with it, is that he compares the Jews to the Indigenous People of North America.  There IS a big difference between these scenarios.

The Indigenous People of North America are, in fact, the First Nations People, meaning they were actually in North American land FIRST.  The "white man" took over their land and relegated them to "Indian Reserves", mistreated them, abused them, murdered them and their children.

The Jews took over the land that is now Israel from the Bedouin Tribes, relegating them to pockets of land.  I have no idea how Israel have treated them over the centuries, but recently I read that they have been fighting for recognition for a very long time. Hmmm... sounds familiar.

The Indigenous People of North America have never claimed they deserve the land because "God gave it to them."  They were on the land for tens of thousands of years.  No one "gave" them the land.  The Jews believe God gave them Israel and that's why they deserve it.  Not sure why they don't just admit, like we've had to do in North America, that we TOOK the land and now we have to say "I'm sorry" and try to butter them up by giving them money.

History is based on one people killing off another people, then taking their land. It was life back then, and it IS life now, as Russia proved with the invasion of Ukraine.

Nazi physicians claimed the moral high ground by transforming the Hippocratic Oath from a doctor-patient relationship to a state-Völkskorper—or nation’s body—relationship. They justified the sterilization or elimination of ‘lives not worth living’ as a merciful preventive measure, simultaneously ending the suffering of the genetically inferior and preventing transmission of their presumably hereditary harmful traits.

Opinion: The life-and-death history lesson that doctors aren’t learning, CNN.com, Opinion by Kirsi Goldynia, published December 7, 2023

This should be a class in high school, part of the “Life Skills” series that should begin in grade 9. How many parents have the instinct to say “give your head a shake” to their teen-to-young-adult children? Or want to (and some do) slap their kid “up the side of the head” to try and knock some sense into them. If only it were that easy. And I don't condone slapping your kids. Its especially not wise when they are young adults, because they just might slap you back.

Young people are more impulsive because they don’t weigh risks and consequences the same way adults do, says Dr. Carl Fleisher, an expert in adolescent and child psychiatry, in an article on UCLA Health. Their judgment and decision-making abilities are underdeveloped because the prefrontal cortex — the brain’s executive control center — is not fully developed until the mid-20s, Fleisher says.

“He lost his son to suicide after a ‘sextortion’ scam. Now this lawmaker is fighting to save other teens“, By Faith Karimi, CNN, published 3:06 AM EDT, Sat May 13, 2023.

There is a reason however to this age group have under developed front cortexes, after all, who in their right might would run into military battle other than young adults. Consider what military battle meant 1000 years ago.... Vikings? 2000 years ago ... biblical? 10000 years ago ... when the life expectancy was 40.

This year, like every year, Canada and the USA debate whether we should do away with Daylight Savings Time. Its antiquated - for the farmers of old. Its just not applicable to 21st century living. Too bad we couldn't just make a global decision about the maturity of the frontal cortex, or FC as I'm going to refer to it. Let's decide that its full development in the mid-20s is antiquated, not applicable anymore to 21st century culture. In fact, its detrimental to the well being of teens and young adults. Its killing them!!

When I was a teenager I was smarter than my parents who had no idea how to live in the 1970s. They didn't trust me to make my own decisions when I had more education than they did. And my FC indeed did not start to come around until my early 20s when I put myself back into the educational system. I must have had a universal guardian energy to keep my safe during those years.

My daughter went through the same thing. From high school until her mid-20s, she was a different person. Some people casually threw around the idea that if I had gone through those difficult years, it only made sense that she would too. In my mind, that could not happen if I had never discussed those years with her. My parents talked about they lack of education all time, mostly because I truly believe (especially my mother) they had imposter syndrome.

I made a point of never mentioning my past to my daughter because I didn't want her getting any ideas. It is only now that I realize that it is genetic - a slow "ripening" of the FC.

My grandparents needed that underdeveloped brain to pioneer their way into Canada, living through what now would be considered, impossible conditions. What fully developed FC person would have one baby per year, beginning at age 18 and have a full brood by age 30? Likely the reason that by the time the FC developed, the woman were dead and the husband needed to married someone with an underdeveloped FC so they would make the insane decision to marry and old man and look after all his children!

My Great Big Brother

Walking down a gravel road¹ towards a haunted house²
Scary bushes³ to the left of me and I’m feeling like a mouse
But Wayne is there to comfort me, to find what’s under cover
He’s big and strong, he’s brave and bold. He’s my great big brother.

Running through the fields of grain, not knowing where I’m going
There’s timothy, alfalfa and more there that’s growing
Its getting dark we’ll soon be in real trouble with our mother
His voice is my safe harbour light⁴.  He’s my great big brother.

Point your finger, sayin' Sik-em boy,
Showing me how to use your brand new toy.
Jump on your bike, I'll race you down the lane
Always losing time and again.
Throw the ball. Wait for the call.
Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

Marching through the forest thick⁵, the branches curve and twist
A blur of orange marmalade flies past us to be first⁶
Listening for the chopping axe, hard work day for our father
Switches, lines for fishing rods, made by my big brother.

Snuggled in our beds at night, a dog⁷ and Beary Weary
Conjured tales and made up plots, our whispers always carry⁸.
Bounce me from my perch on high⁹, flying like no other¹⁰.
We laughed so hard, I hit the sky¹¹ thanks to my big brother.

Point your finger, sayin' Sik-em boy,
Showing me how to use your brand new toy.
Jump on your bike, I'll race you down the lane
Always losing time and again.
Throw the ball. Wait for the call.
Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

Dragging wagons up the hill to a big green glowing ball¹²
Wood to make a solid floor and boards to make the walls
Ladder held with binding twine, only leading to another
Ending in a tree house built by Phillip and my big brother.

Sneaking out the window, down the tree with mason jars
Our room became the midnight sky, filled with shooting stars¹³
Flying past his shelves of books¹⁴, so eager to discover.
He’s so smart, so big and brave. He’s my great big brother.

Point your finger, sayin' Sik-em boy,
Showing me how to use your brand new toy.
Jump on your bike, I'll race you down the lane
Always losing time and again.
Throw the ball. Wait for the call.
Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

1 Our gravel driveway down to the Trunk Road

2 Aunt Liza’s abandoned house across the Trunk Road

3 The scary chokecherry bush at the end of the gate

4 I’d follow the sound of Wayne’s voice as I couldn’t see him through the tall grain

5 Forest behind Aunt Liza’s house before the Blue Sea Creek

6 Our dog Buster, yellow-orange and white

7 Wayne’s stuffed dog, Buster and his teddy bear, Beary Weary

8 Mom always heard us playing after bedtime and we’d get into trouble

9 I was in the top bunk

10 Wayne would kick me up in the air

11 I hit the ceiling once

12 Massive maple tree in the forest south-east of the house

13 Fire flies Wayne would free in the dark bedroom

14 Wayne had a huge book collection on shelves Dad made for him.

I had an epiphany today about forgiveness. I realize I never really knew what it meant. Perhaps I should have looked it up on dictionary.com:

- stop feeling angry or resentful toward someone for (an offense, flaw, or mistake)

dictionary.com

While I know this is part of the process, I thought there was another thought preceding it: "Its OK that you did what you did...." This is the part of forgiveness with which I have a huge problem. But I see that there is no mention of that problem phrase in the dictionary.com definition.

I also found this (below).

Forgiveness actually embodies three different things, each of which applies to different situations and provides different results. The three types of forgiveness are: exoneration, forbearance and release.

ctfassets.net

Exoneration? ("officially absolving someone from blame". Oh no no no...) Forebearance? ("patient self-control; restraint and tolerance". Doesn't sound like forgiveness to me!) Release? Hmmm.... that has potential.

On thriveworks.com, I found "7 Steps to True Forgiveness" which I won't quote here because Step #5 is "Repair" where you're supposed to repair the relationship you had with the person who needs forgiving. This is the step I have a problem with and why I could NEVER understand forgiving someone who murdered, raped and/or brutalized you or someone you love, or anyone for that matter. The mere act of deliberate manipulation and mean-spiritedness, invokes in me an unforgivable feeling. So my unforgivable-self has a very wide spectrum. While I can go on with my day to day, month to month, living and not think about it, when I do recall certain negative event(s), I feel the anger in my stomach but I can shake it off, reasoning with myself that in the long run, my quality of life was not effected.

An example would be something I said (it usually is!) - a truth - that should have been my inside voice. While drinking at an evening function with a group of acquaintances, an idea came up for us to plan a group trip in a year to go to a warm destination. One woman said she couldn't possibly plan that, as her aunt was 98 and she needed to be available for her. My inside voice came out and said, "Oh my god! She'll be dead by then." She never forgave me, according to her husband. Do I acknowledge that what I said was insensitive? Yes. Do I regret saying it? ....hmmmm, it was quite funny at the time and, in my mind, she was over-sensitive to the issue considering the amount of alcohol we had just consumed. Her aunt did die. This woman was not part of my daily life before the unfortunate comment, so not having her in my life afterwards meant nothing to me. I'm sure she feels the same.

Another example was when I suggested to my uncle, who had two jobs after retirement while is daughter (my cousin who I talked to about once every 10 years or so) was on welfare, that perhaps he could give one of his jobs to his daughter to get her off welfare. I had not been drinking alcohol - it was an honest truth and observation that I thought was a brilliant solution. He told her what I said and she was angry. My Mom told me that my cousin would likely never speak to me again. And I said, "My life will never be the same. I'll certainly miss those conversations!"

My last example is when I put together a book on the genealogy of my mother's ancestors and through an honest clerical error, missed adding the family of an adopted daughter into the index of the book. Her name was under her maiden name, but her married name (husband and children) were not. This was unforgivable to her even though her children were absolutely not descendants of my ancestors. When I see her at family functions and reunions, her face is filled with hate and rage -- 25 years later. And she has passed this hate and rage on to her sisters, her mother (now passed) and her family. I apologized to her many times in writing.

This is a double edged "forgive" situation. She turned an innocent clerical error into a generational family-splitting calamity. I'll never forget what she did, but I forgive her. In my mind, she's not part of my "life" or family anymore. I don't care about her - she's nothing to me now. I feel no anger or resentment and I actually feel sorry for her if I think about her at all. To me, this is an adopted monkey on her back, not on mine. So, is that true forgiveness?

I know there are people who, for whatever reason, be it a mental illness or severity, who cannot "shake it off". My cousin cannot shake it off. I also acknowledge that there are events that I would find "unforgivable". If anyone committed a crime against my life-partner, our daughter, my sisters or my brother - I would likely be filled with hate and rage. I would hope that I would not let it consume me, but there's no guarantee.

Lorne (my life-partner) recently discovered a cousin living in Sydney, Australia. Jack Meister was born in 1928 and is a holocaust survivor. He's won awards for his volunteerism in Sydney, for sharing his life story. His parents and his brother, and all relatives known to him died in the camps. He lost everything when, at 11 years old, he was rounded up and taken to a ghetto, then a few years later taken to Auschwitz. He says he forgives, but he'll never forget. The man hasn't one hate or rage bone in his body. He exudes joy and gratefulness. How is this possible?

"...they mean they can forgive the current generation for whom blame can't be put as it wasn’t them and forgive those poor souls who had to do what they were told otherwise they (suffered) the same fate. [were shot]

But not to forget the horrors of the war and what man did to man and are still doing. Remember that countries fall into their own fate by obeying dictators and not standing up for their own countrymen.

And yes he is not consumed by hatred...

Leanna Delevski, Jack's daughter

Jack also says that his survival is because "someone" from above is looking out over him. So where was that "someone" when his parents and brother died? Where was that "someone" when my beautiful niece died of cancer when she was 30? Is that "someone" there right now watching over my brother on life-support in Saskatoon? This sounds like a topic for another blog.

So going back to the first definition of forgiveness... if I were a Holocaust survivor, meeting one of the tormentors from Auschwitz who had murdered my family, I would shoot him or her dead without anger or malice or resentment, saying, "I forgive you, but I'll never forget you." I would then go home and sleep peacefully - and feel released.

Uncle Jake is not blood related, but a dear uncle who married my Aunty Jo, Georgena Smith.

Uncle Jake was a larger-than-life personality. He was kind, funny, sweet, loving, generous in spirit (not money because Aunty Jo only allotted him 25 cents per week).

He loved to play the bag pipes and the fiddle and was so proud of his Scottish heritage, although he was born in Westmeath, Ontario. He was a member of the Sons of Scotland, both his sons play the bag pipes and know how to dance the "Highland Fling". Aunty Jo was also a member of the Daughters of Scotland.

Even the switch plate going into their home bore the Buchanan plaid.

He was in the North Bay parades and at events playing the bagpipes, something we always had to go and see.

Uncle Jake played the pipes everywhere he could.

Uncle Jake’s sister, Norma Durrell lived in a beautiful house on the east side of the Buchanan cottage, while on the west side was Uncle Jake’s brother, Peter Buchanan and his wife Queenie. Norma Durrell’s colour television was the first one I ever saw. Both the Durrell’s and Peter’s house were beautiful “modern” homes compared to our farmhouse.

Sometimes, Uncle Jake would play his bagpipes around the cottage. He’d walk and play along the dock right to the end, and stand there, playing. The sound of the pipes was beautifully haunting echoing across the lake. I loved it. This is a beautiful memory.

A great story that my Mom told me, was the day my parents were married.

Uncle Jake proposed a plan that when my parents came back to Rutherglen from North Bay after taking vows, he would pipe them up the long driveway to the house where the wedding party was to take place. The plan was set and when my parents arrived at the gate, Uncle Jake was waiting to precede them. However, my Dad, being a quiet shy man not prone to ostentatious behavior, saw Uncle Jake waiting, he said to Mom, "Ta'hell with that!" and drove straight up the driveway, not waiting for Uncle Jake.

Uncle Jake was a showman. He and Aunty Jo took ballroom dancing lessons and they would always take to the floor to whirl about around the room at weddings. My first childhood waltzing experience was standing on Uncle Jake's shoes. They also taught square dancing and Uncle Jake would call the dance. He was a music lover and in particular, he loved Connie Frances.

Uncle Jake's Obituary

Jake was born on July 25, 1915 in the little pioneer town of Westmeath, 45 miles east of Pembroke, on the Ottawa River. A year and a half later, he moved to North Bay with his parents.

During his early school days, Jake contracted everything going: Scarlet Fever, St. Vitus Dance, Mumps, Measles, you name it. In spite of these difficulties, he still managed to enjoy his childhood. He attended King George and Worthington Street schools, and later Algonquin Collegiate.

In the 1930's Depression era, when there were few luxuries, Jake roade a bicycle everywhere - to Kirkland Lake, Sudbury, Toronto, looking for work. He eventually returned to North Bay where he began at Canadian Longyear as "Cost Accountant". He was there for 43 years, ending his career as Canadian Purchasing Agent.

He attended St. Andrew's United Church where he and Jo have been wonderful and faithful "spiritual elders" to so many. Jake served the church in various capacities, from running off the worship bulletin every Saturday to tallying the offering. In recent years, with Jo, he would play the violin for background music at The Company of Good Cheer and at our hymn sings and Casselholm worship services.

In 1927, Jake started playing the bagpipes for entertainment. He was with the North Bay Pipe Band for 25 years. He also learned the violin in high school, just for fun.

Did we mention Jake loved to dance? He was always interested in both Round and Square dancing. In 1950, he started Square dancing with the Recreational Council. After several years as instructor, he danced with R.C.A.F. Squares at the local air base. The "Squarenaders", "Gateway Swingers" on Thursday P.M. (Round, Square and Scottish Folk Dancing) and later The Gateway Gliders. He also was an avid Bridge player, an enthusiastic member of the Golden Age Club and of the Sons of Scotland.

On Christmas Eve 1937, in the old St. Andrew's manse on Worthington Street, Jake married Georgina "Jo" Smith. They have been blessed with two devoted sons, wonderful daughters-in-law and five attentive and exciting grandchildren.

With thanks to an earlier article by Flo Skerrett.

"A Service In Loving Memory Of Jake Buchanan" St. Andrew's United Church, North Bay, Ontario

Uncle Jake died September 26, 1995.

Cecil was born February 1, 1898 in Rutherglen, Ontario, to Eliza (nee Pennell) and John "Jack" James.

Cecil married Marie Tremblay and had two sons. From his will below, I can only make out the name of his 2nd son, Leonard.

He fought in World War I in the 12th Reserve, 1st Corp., 75th Battalion CEF, D Co., #3035764 and held the rank of Private. He was discharged May 12, 1919 and returned home in June of 1919 on the R.M.S. Mauretania.

In 1950, Cecil was living in Kapuskasing, and later in New Toronto. He died February 12, 1959.

James was born December 27, 1889 to Mary Ann Pennell and William James of Rutherglen, Ontario. He married Margaret I. McDonald and died October 12, 1976. James served in World War I. In 1953, he lived in Englehart and operated Tray Express Company.

John was born December 29, 1887 in Rutherglen, Ontario. He served in the 59th Battalion during World War I. He was a member of Branch 23 of the Royal Canadian Legion in North Bay where he received a 50-year pin. He was also a member of the Orange Lodge and a founding member of the Elk Lake Masonic Lodge No. 507. John also spent some time in jail and he worked for the ONR as an engineer.

He married Annie Gertrude "Gerti" Smith, who was the daughter of Willard Smith and Mary Johnson on Rutherglen. Gerti was a widow, having married William Daniel Smith, and had one some "Billy". Gerti and John had two daughters: Eleanor James and Ruth James. Gerti died in 1926.

John then married Julia McNulty and had three sons: Jack James, Dale James, Darwin James. All three of these sons spent time in jail and were known to be part of the notorious "Kelly Gang" of North Bay.

William was the son of Mary Ann Pennell and William James of Rutherglen, Ontario.

William was born January 12, 1900 and served in World War I. He lived in Lac Vert, Sask, and died February 10, 1978 in Miracom, Sask.