My Grandparents' official birth records.....

Well, this is really interesting- in the history mother wrote, she notes her father, my grandfather, Joseph McLaren, was born on February 8, 1878.  Now, when I read that, I seemed to remember that Grandma was older than Grandpa - and if he was born in February, 1878 and she in July, 1878, that wouldn't be the case.

So, a couple of weeks ago, while messaging on Facebook with Stefan's cousin, she gave me a website where Scottish births can be found.  I paid 7 pounds and joined and got 30 credits.  It takes 6 credits to look up someone and view their birth record.  Today I thought I'd find Grandpa's.  I searched from 1877 to 1882, in Fifeshire and didn't come up with Grandpa but did see Barney Hamilton McLaren - who I knew must be Grandpa's brother.  I knew this because my mother's middle name was Hamilton.  We all knew about Uncle Barney but always thought it was a nickname - from Bernard.  Nope - not so.  Anyway, back I went and researched and, sure enough, found a Joseph but with the last name Maclaren!  (an 'a' and no capital 'L')  I paid the extra credits to actually view the register (it's one credit for the initial search and then 5 to view the record) and, sure enough..... February 8th - it's Grandpa!  I wonder if I can paste the birth records in here:  Nope, didn't work.  I'll try something else...........didn't work - I'm sending it to Zolynne to see if she can doctor it so I can place it here.

Well, what can I tell you - that kid of ours is a genius!  

So - Grandpa was born February 8, 1880, 11:30 p.m., in Moonzie, Fifeshire, Scotland.  His father's name was also Joseph and his mother's name was Margaret - her maiden name was Hamilton.  My mother's name was Margaret Hamilton McLaren.  My great-grandfather and great-grandmother were married January 20, 1872 in Ceres, Scotland........about 2 miles from Cupar, which is where mother always said her dad was born.  His birthplace, Moonzie, is about 6 miles or so from Cupar.  Neither of Grandpa's parents could write - both places are marked with an 'X'.  Great-Grandfather's work was 'farm servant'. 

My grandmother, Elizabeth Millar (McLaren) was born July 13, 1878 at Cowdenfoot, Dalkeith, Scotland at 1:15 a.m.  Her father, Alexander Millar was a coal miner and signed the birth register. Her mother's name was Fanny Sauers (Millar) and there is no indication that she did or didn't sign the register.  My great-grandparents were married May 12, 1876 in Dalkeith, Scotland.

I am leaving the history that mother wrote, as she wrote it........even though the birth places were incorrect.  

So, that's it for today.

cheerio,

The Day the Gun Went Off.....

(I remember hearing this story many times.  Mother knew the names of the couple on their honeymoon but said she didn't want to put it in the written version as she didn't think it was right to use names........the couple were from Florida so I'm not sure why she worried about it, but she did.  And  now I cannot remember the names so can't add them)

 
The Day the Gun Went Off

It was about 1925 and I was staying at Kalum Lake with my Dad.  He worked for the Kitsumgallum Timber Co as a watchman in the summer.

One day we were over at the hotel, owned by Mr and Mrs Dix, when an American couple came in from a hunting trip and went up to their room.  (they were on their honeymoon, I can remember Mother telling me that)  Not long after, we heard a loud bang and something went past us and into the floor.  We found out later that the man thought he'd emptied his gun and pulled the trigger only to find that there had still been a shell in the chamber.  When the hotel was dismantled in the 1980s, and  moved to Terrace to be part of Heritage Park Museum, the spent bullet was found under the floor. 

Mother's writing........Reflections of the 30s

The 30s, for me, were very different from the twenties.  I would graduate from High School and be faced with decisions.  Getting a job was top on the list. 

The country was in a depression and jobs of any kind were scarce.  My sister (Fanny) finished her nurses training and couldn't find work in a hospital.  She came home and was kept busy but few people could afford to pay $1.00 a day.

In 1933, I was fortunate to get a job at Usk, BC, for the Percy Skinners.  The pay was $10 a month plus room and board.  It was a good place to work as they had a light plant, running water and a bathroom.  Also a gas washer and hand operated mangle for pressing the sheets and table cloths. 

Not too long after I moved to Usk a snow slide came down west of Usk.  It covered the CN railroad track and went almost across the Skeena River.  The CN had to bring in a rotary plow to clear the track.  We all had to go down to have a look.

Both Terrace and Usk had baseball teams and they would get together on sports days.  The 24th of May was the Usk day for the baseball tournament and July 1st it was held in Terrace.  Both towns had good players.

1936 was the year of the big flood that caused so much damage in both Usk and Terrace.  In Usk, the river came up so fast that the water couldn't get through Kitselas Canyon fast enough and it backed up.  The people in Usk were used to high water in the spring and weren't too worried at first but by late afternoon they realized this high water was extreme and decided to start moving out of their homes. 

Jimmy O'Brien had a 1928 flat deck truck and he hauled the furniture and it was put on the CN loading platform beside the track, but the water kept rising and by midnight everything had to be moved to the school grounds, which was on a bench above the town.  By morning the platform and several small houses had floated down the river; also several others floated off their foundations.  After the water went down there was debris everywhere.  A forestry pump was brought in to hose the river silt out of the homes.  They were also very fortunate that the summer was hot so the homes could dry out.  (the flood was in late May)

A temporary hospital was set up in the United Church manse in Terrace as there was no way of getting out of Terrace except by small river boats.  The manse was formerly owned by Clair Giggy's parents.

After the flood the CN hired men to help with the clean up and they were paid 25 cents an hour. 

And so ends the typed sheets I found.  I sure wish I'd found these when mother was alive as I'd have liked to ask her why she wrote so little about the 1930s.  She met father in Usk and they married September 9, 1936.  Their first child, Danny, was born September 19, 1938.  There were a lot of changes in her life that decade and she didn't write about them.  I also wish I knew when she wrote all of this........perhaps that would have shed light on the scarcity of anything about her life with father.  

Father left mother in September, 1972 and she was very bitter about it for quite a few years.  Perhaps she wrote this during those years.........

Cheerio,

From my mother - Life in the 20s

We moved to Terrace from Rossland, BC, in 1927 and rented a small house just east of where the Skeena Hotel sits today.  (not sure when she wrote this)  There is a beer and wine store there now.  I read somewhere that my Dad arrived with his accordion, but actually, he arrived with his wife and three daughters.

My Dad bought 10 acres fronting on Kenney Street and had a two story house built.  We moved into it in the summer of 1920.  It was just a shell then but Dad worked on it during the long summer evenings.  Several things went down between the walls (newspapers, sawdust) before the upstairs was boarded in.

Forty years later, Chuck Magnus, a local electrician, pulled a book out of the wall when he was putting an electrical outlet in the dining room.

Our house was heated with a wood heater in the front room and a small range in the kitchen.  It wasn't too cold downstairs but it sure was cold upstairs.  Dad eventually put a vent in the ceiling over the heater, which let some heat up to the second story.

For the first few years we burned mill ends from George Little's mill.  Mother ordered 10 wagon loads in the spring and my sisters and I had to pile it in the shed.  It was a huge pile and we sniveled and whined, but we didn't get any sympathy from Mother.

There wasn't any electricity or running water so laundry was done by hand, the water being carried in and out.  A galvanized tub, copper boiler, scrub board and sometimes a plunger, were mostly what people used.

Ironing was done with Sad Irons heated on top of the stove.  We put a cake pan over them to keep the heat in.

For light we used coal oil lamps.  We had an Aladdin lamp in the front room and small lamps with reflectors in the kitchen.  Filling them and trimming the wicks was a daily job.

We didn't have a proper basement but there was a large hole under the house where we kept vegetables and canning.  We also kept a crock of eggs that were in waterglass solution.  Mother bought 20 dozen in the spring when they were 15 cents a dozen.

I remember Mother bought a crate of plums and I was helping her remove the stones and I decided I'd like to have two or three to eat.  We always wore bloomers with elastic at the knee and I thought that would be a good place to stash them.  To do this I dropped one and when I bent down to pick it up I took one down and slipped it under the elastic.  Once the plums were stoned I went outside and ate mine.  (oh, my, can't you just see mother telling this story....she'd be chuckling)

Wild raspberries were plentiful in the early days and we only had to go up Lanfear's Hill to get all we wanted.  I didn't like picking berries but mother insisted that I go along.  One day I got into a great patch and I picked quite a few, but when Mother came back to check on me, I'd eaten most of them.  I was sent home and never taken berry picking again. 

Because of a lack of transportation, the lakes in the area weren't available to most of us.  The pond that we swam in was behind Curley Bailey's (next to where Canadian Tire is today) and I believe it was called Colthurst's Pond.  I always thought it was part of a gully and that some boys trenched the water from Howe Creek to fill it in.  I've since heard different stories on how it came to be there.  I do know it wasn't stagnant.  We spent many happy hours down there and, in later years, other young people used it.  I think we all learned to swim or dog paddle and the braver ones learned to dive.  By the end of the day it was a mud hole.

The saying 'you don't miss what you've never had' held true in the 20s.  We made our own pleasure and the kids I went with enjoyed CGIT (Canadian Girls In Training - it was through the United Church, I believe), choir, basketball, softball, skating in the Horseshoe area, sleigh riding down Moore's Hill (Miles' Hill) and swimming.  There were also dance classes in the GWVA (Great War Veterans' Association) where young and old learned to dance.  My Dad taught the dances and played for them on the accordion he came to Terrace with in 1917.

Before the depression, the two Glass girls (Helen and?), Adeline Thomas (married Lee Llewellyn) and my sister and I earned pocket money in the summer picking strawberries at Remo.  Mr. Hubert, Mr. Carr and Mr. Jopp had large fields of strawberries and we were paid 75 cents to pick a crate of berries, which was good money at that time.  The last summer we picked, the depression was really being felt and the growers were only paid $1.35 per crate so they went out of the berry business.

Although Remo was a small community, the people got together and had dances.  A gramophone supplied the music.  The record called 'Snow Dear' was a favourite of some of the men.  Their strawberry social was also enjoyed by all who came.

The 1920s ended with the start of the depression and the 1930s ended with the start of World War II, but the pioneer spirit was strong in the community and we never gave up. 

It was great growing up in the 20s, even meeting the evening train was fun.

(that's all Mother wrote about the 20s)

Writings from my mother...

I'm sitting in a sunny window in San Francisco, it's 10:15 in the morning and I have a sore ankle so am going to take it easy in the walking department today.  In case I had some down-time, I brought an envelope with me that I found when we were home at Christmas.  It is a brown envelope that was in a box - and inside are handwritten histories, by decade, that mother did.  Also in this envelope was this poem:

Miss Me - But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little - but not too long
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared.
Miss me - but let me go.
For this is a journey that we all must take
And each must go alone.
It's all part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart,
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me - but let me go.

I still miss my mother and talk to her often, in my head.  Mostly I'm asking her questions that I absolutely know she could answer - and I don't remember!  She had a remarkable memory, absolutely remarkable.  I thought I asked lots about family history when she was here but now that she's gone I realize there's lots I don't know.  Thank goodness she wrote down all the things she did. 

So, I'll post this and then do a new post for each of the sheets that are in the envelope.

Cheerio,