Bethesda Sunday School - Possible Origins

These two paragraphs from an article by Ryan Taylor likely explain how Bethesda Sunday School began at a crossroads in Downie Township.


"Because Methodism had evangelism as its base, there was a tradition of Circuit- riding missionaries through out the province. Small churches were established even in remote villages. Tiny country churches sprang up at crossroads without any houses around them. They served the farming community in the vicinity.

The farmers in a given area would be glad to have their own church nearby, however small it was. They might also find themselves in a disagreement with their neighbours or the local preacher on some theological point and begin a new congregation. The result was a proliferation of these little log cabin churches dotted on back concessions."

I don't know if this accounts for the Sunday School being established on a 1/4 acre lot on the SE corner of Lot 6 Concession 12 on land first settled by John Edwards in 1854. At his death in 1862 the lot was subdivided into 8 pieces for his children. A short time later in 1865 the Sunday School was built. Could there be a connection between John's death, the splitting up of the land, and the establishment of the Sunday School?
Methodist Church Records In Ontario
By: Ryan Taylor, Biography and Archived Articles

Bethesda Sunday School - Pt. 2

Bethseda Sunday School played multiple roles in the life of the community. It allowed individuals such as Mae Hearn to express her deep religious beliefs and it offered her an opportunity to impart those beliefs to her children. While the music and the lessons must have been a welcome diversion from the steady work of the week for the younger people, I am certain that the chance to meet and to socialize with other young people was especially welcome. On occasion the young people put on plays and Lois remembers Norman McCully whose family owned a large farm near the four-mile bush, and Percy Switzer whose family farm overlooked a wonderful sweep of land in the Trout Creek valley, acting in those plays. Often, Norman adlibbed his lines, much to the consternation of Percy whose obvious discomfort only added to the delight of the audience. In the 1930's Stella McLeod, who lived with her sister Lulu and her brothers Roy and Fred on land also overlooking the Trout Creek valley, began a girls' club. The club met monthly and it was the members of this club who did the spring cleaning of the Sunday School. I don't know of any pictures taken of the group, but possibly, this picture of the young women who attended Helen Laing's wedding includes members of the club. In this picture in the back row are Anna Dunbar, Mary Shrubsole (whose family lived at the bottom of hill in the Trout Creek Valley), Stella McLeod, Hazel Stewart who married a Kemp and whose grandmother was the midwife who attended the births of many children in the area, and Margaret Dunbar the sister of Anna. In the front row are Lois Hearn, Isobel Snoddy who married Ted Murray, Marie Ballantyne who married Earl Boyes, a man who figures prominently in this story, Annabel Aitcheson, and Mabel Tyler.

Bethesda Sunday School - An important social opportunity

In a post back in May, I talked of the Sunday afternoon tradition wherein Mae and her children walked up the road for the 2:30 service at the Bethesda Sunday School. That tiny Sunday School played an important role in the religious and social life of the community, a role even more convoluted in the lifes of the young people. Last weekend Lois and I visited the site of the original Sunday School and graveyard. As can be seen in this picture, the site is marked by a cairn and since the early 1970's the township has maintained the property. No one is sure what has happened to the tombstones. It is possible, at this time of year when the grass is dry, to trace the line of the original Sunday School foundation. While I didn't have a tape measure with me I paced out the line and estimated it as being about 21 x 27 feet: not much bigger than many suburban living rooms. In this picture you can almost see the line of the south-west wall of the original structure. The Sunday School sat near the road and behind a wire fence; to the south was the even smaller shed where Mr. Proudlove or Mrs. Vanstone, who shared the role of superintendent, sheltered their horses in winter. The graveyard, with the tombstones of the Iredales, Ellahs, Roadhouses and other families who first settled the area, was at the back of the property. I have one picture of the structure. In this picture of Annie Danard, Lois, and Bernice Evans (on the right) it can be seen that the building was a frame structure with a centre doorway flanked by windows. Inside, was a centre aisle, a stove in the middle, and pews on either side. Windows on both the north and south sides let in light. There were also brackets on the walls to hold the coal oil lamps. A small organ sat on the platform. Services followed a traditional pattern: first, a call to worship and a hymn. Mae Hearn played the piano for the hymns, and after she died, Lois took over the task. Lois now, rather sheepishly remembers that she often skipped notes as she played, and always had a comment to make to Mr. Proudlove when she went to the front to play the music. There were hymn books for the congregation. The hymn was followed by a prayer. Two people were in charge of passing the collection plates and Lois remembers her mother carefully giving each of her children a nickel for the collection plate. Then the members broke into groups for the Sunday School lesson. Lois' mother Mae always acted as a teacher for one of the classes. The class was followed by a second hymn and a prayer. By 4 o'clock the service was over. As they emerged from the building (fast forward to the 1930's) Lois and her friends would be hoping to see additional cars parked outside. One of the cars would likely belong to Gordon McEwan, and possibly a second car would belong to Roy Aitcheson who was going with Lois' good friend Helen Laing. Then, for those lucky girls who had boyfriends, it was a drive through the countryside, lots of talk and laughter and then home in time for supper and (in the case of the guys) barn chores. (On the next blog I will talk about the families who attended the Sunday School and the opportunity which the Sunday School provided for additional socializing.)

The Rings

Lois wears three rings on the second finger of her left hand. The first ring, the one with the three opals was given to Mae Rolston by Bob Hearn as an engagement ring sometime before they were married in 1910. Mae wore it all her married life, and after her death in 1933 the ring was given to Lois by her father. The second ring is Lois' engagement ring given to her in 1936 by Gordon. The tiny diamond in the ring is an accurate reflection of Gordon's financial situation as a young school teacher in rural Ontario during the Depression. On one particular occasion this ring caused a huge panic for Lois. It happened when she was working part-time at Douglas' Paint and Stationary Store in St. Marys. She was sorting cards when suddenly she noticed that the diamond was missing from her ring. The other clerks in the store all stopped what they were doing to search for the missing diamond which, in reality, is a diamond chip. Fortunately Hazel Fairbanks found the missing stone and Lois went immediately to Ross Andrew's Jewellery Store to have it reset. On seeing the ring the saleswoman suggested that Lois upgrade the setting to something of better quality. Lois refused, insisting that the ring be left as it was originally, stone chip, simple setting and all. The third ring with the ruby stone surrounded by diamonds was given to Lois in December 1977 by Gordon to commemorate their fortieth wedding anniversary.

Wedding Gifts

In the summer of 2006, Lois had a new asphalt roof put on her house. All the old roofing was thrown into a large dumpster parked next to the house. When Bob arrived for his usual Saturday afternoon in the garden, Lois explained that the reason why there was an old plastic swimming pool and and a broken bicycle in the dumpster, along with all the old roofing, was because she had invited neighbours to use the dumpster as a means of getting rid of their old junk .... and, by the way, she had tossed out some old wedding gifts that had been sitting in the basement for years. An hour later when Lois was picking up branches in another part of the garden, Bob scrambled into the dumpster, and found, under lots of heavy roofing, a small cardboard box containing a variety of silver plated candy and serving dishes. None was valuable and all were very black. Here is a sample of what they looked like (after they had been cleaned) and here is the note which Lois wrote when she gave each of her four children one of the reclaimed-from-the-dumpster wedding gifts from 1937 (remember, double clicking enlarges).

Mrs. Tyler's Wedding Gift

Mrs. Tyler was one of Mae Hearn's best friends. She lived around the corner, north from #9 school. She was reputed to be a women who never stopped working. One of the many essential tasks of the farm housewife during the 1930's was to feed - abundantly and well - the men when they came in from the fields. Timing was essential in planning the meals. The hot food could not be taken off the stove until one caught sight of the men beginning to move in from the fields. While she waited by the window for the first sight of the men, Mrs. Tyler would stand and knit. Then, when the men appeared, she would put the knitting down and begin to transfer the hot food into bowls and on to the table. After Mae Hearn died, it was Mrs. Tyler that Lois turned to whenever she needed help with learning how to cook or can or to do any of the hundreds of other tasks which women performed. Here is the only picture we have of Mrs. Tyler. It was taken in 1920 at a St. Pauls Women's Institute meeting. With the white hair she looks much older than we would expect. Seventeen years later when Lois married Gordon, Mrs. Tyler gave Lois a quilt, every stitch of which Mrs. Tyler did herself. Now, 70 years later that quilt is displayed, preciously and never used, at the foot of the spool bed in the boys' room of Lois' house.

The 27th December 1937 .. cont'd

Well, the car didn't disappear into Black Creek, but when Gordon and Lois did emerge from the manse, they found their car at the bottom of the hill securely wired to a second car parked in front of the community hall. (On the right is Avonton Presbyterian church as it looks today with the manse next door. The front window of the manse that can be seen to the left of the porch in this picture is the one through which Lois watched the car roll down the hill toward Black Creek.) Once Gordon as a newly married man, managed to extricate his car, he and Lois drove the 2 1/2 miles up to the 1st and 2nd concession and turned left to go to the McEwan homestead where Gordon's mother and father had lunch waiting. Lois' father Bob, and Laura Turner, in the meantime, returned home. Lunch consisted of salmon sandwiches and a sweet. Then, Gordon and Lois drove into Stratford where they were scheduled to catch the bus to London for the honeymoon. Since the car was needed at home Jack, Gordon's father rode into Stratford with them. As they drove down the Centre Gravel on their way to Stratford they met Earl Boyes, a neighbouring farmer who had previously dated Lois. (Earl had been married the year before to one of Gordon's many relatives in the area: Marie Ballantyne.) When he saw Earl's vehicle approaching, Jack ducked down in the back seat. "Good Lord, I don't want Boyes thinking I'm going on the honeymoon with you!" Gordon and Lois rode the bus to London and walked the three or four blocks to the Iroquois Hotel, then a prominent establishment on the north-west corner of Clarence and King Streets. During their two-day stay, Gordon spent considerable time on the phone to the various arenas asking for information on what sporting events were going on in the city. What he didn't realize was that every time he picked up the phone, he was adding to his hotel bill. For a guy who had a total of $100 for his entire honeymoon trip, and a wife who had absolutely no money, the bill which was presented at the end of their stay was a shocker. Somehow the bill got paid, but I would imagine that it was at this point that Gordon realized that he was a long way from Downie Township.

27 December 1937

No pictures of the wedding. None were taken. Here is how Lois tells the story: Gordon was teaching at Black Creek School. His Christmas school vacation gave them just enough time for a wedding and a short honeymoon. But, of course, all of this had to happen after the 25th because Lois was responsible for organizing Christmas for her father, and her six siblings. On the 25th, which was a Saturday, Lois cooked a Christmas dinner for the family, and two guests: elderly, unmarried, second cousins - David and Rachael Fulcher -- who always were invited for the Christmas meal. On the next day, the 26th, Gordon came to visit. It was snowing hard and the roads quickly became impassible. Lois' father Bob suggested that Gordon stay the night. The morning of the 27th was clear and Gordon left right after breakfast to drive home by way of Conroy and # 7 Highway where the roads were more likely to be clear. Lois got the breakfast ready and then did up the dishes before she got herself ready, without, of course, the aid of a bathroom or running water. (She also must have packed some type of bag for the wedding trip, but I have never heard what it was or what it contained.) Lois' Aunt Minnie (George's wife) came to stay with the youngest children, Vic being 7 and Roberta 5. Then father Bob drove Lois and Laura Turner (a friend of the family who was to be the second witness) to Avonton where Lois and Gordon had arranged to be married by Rev. Samuel Kerr in the front room of the manse of Avonton Presbyterian Church . The young couple, the two witnesses, and the minister were all that were present. The minister's study in the manse at Avonton Presbyterian Church faces west overlooking the Centre Gravel road which runs north through the village leading to Sebringville. In front of the church, the road follows a gentle decline down to the bridge over Black Creek. Rev. Kerr, performing the wedding ceremony, stood with his back to the window, Bible in hand. Gordon's car was parked outside on the road. As the vows were being said, Lois could see Elizabeth Robertson and several others hurrying up the road. Then, as Lois looked at the minister to repeat her vows, and beyond him to the scene outside, she could see Gordon's car rolling silently down the hill toward Black Creek. Gradually the car rolled out of view and disappeared to the right behind the curtain of the minister's study.
.... to be continued

Authors Wanted!

Hello everyone - Jessica here.

I'd like to extend an invite to all in the family who have been following our blogging process. Would any of you like to become authors on Dicksons' Corners? All you need to do is let me know you're interested, and I'll send you an invitation to become an author and help you navigate the process of blogging with blogspot.

At the moment we have four authors - Bob, me, and most recently, Lou and John (welcome, you two!). This project was intended to be collaborative, and as long as your content is somehow related to Lois, Gordon, or the family, you can write about it here!

Leave a comment or give me a call and I'll get back to you. Looking forward to hearing from you!

On July 7, 2007, I visited Lois McEwan in St. Marys, because I wanted to sort out some details about the dicksoncorners blogspot with Bob and Jessica. Jessica and Carlos had just returned from a visit to Carlos' family in his homeland of Cuba. The photographs from Cuba were tinged with Carlos's nostalgia of the surroundings of his youth and his double pride in professing his dual citizenship of Cuba and Canada.

With part of the afternoon to spare, I did a quick tour of St Marys, "The Town Worth LIVING IN." I visited my old friend, Ray Bennett, took some picture of him in front of his store; he's been there for 49 years but it is still A.Y.Lofft and Co. with Fred Lofft and Jimmy Pine handling the Men's Store side of the business.

I drove down Water Street to glance over once again at the wonderful improvements made to 105 Water, my youthful home.

And then, I decided that I should visit an old friend of mine and my family; in fact, an old friend of many people in St.Marys, Elinor Murphy. I say 'Elinor' rather than 'Eleanor' because I happened to glance at a Teeswater Reunion button on her door which said, "Elinor Thompson."

Mrs. Murphy was not at home because she was playing bridge at Kingsway, according to her daughter, Frances. Introducing myself, Frances said that she might have recognized me if I had shaved off my beard. I knew several of the older children of the Murphy family, but not the more recent (relatively) arrivals.

After making the connections, Frances said that she certainly remembered her favouite teacher from St.Marys Ddistrict Collegiate Institute, Mr. McEwan.

With that said, she raised her arms, placed her hands behind her head, and alternately rippled her biceps.

I ask you,"Does that moment of reminiscence ring true of Mr. McEwan?"

Air Conditioning in the 1930's

On a day like today when the temperature headed into the 30's you wonder how people used to cope without air conditioning. In Lois' family home, a steep set of stairs out of the kitchen led to a small second floor landing. The bedroom on the right was for the boys; the one on the left was for the girls. The rooms were small with slanted ceilings. There was no attic to act as a barrier to the hot summer air. On nights such as the one we are presently experiencing, Lois' mother would fill a pail with cold water and dab the window sill in each bedroom with water. The movement of air across the cold water would create a cooling sensation. A primative form of air conditioning.

Address at Bob Hearn's 65th birthday

In rural Ontario the address was a traditional feature of many public presentations. While it could take the form of a narrative, the address was often a humorous poem, written in simple rhyme and filled with insider jokes and references which poked fun, in a gentle way, at the recipient. The address was intended to be read out loud with all the dramatic pauses and gestures needed to make the jokes work. When someone was leaving the community, or when there was an important birthday or other social occasion where a gift was being presented, someone had to write and to read the 'address'. The address, along with a gift was then presented to the person being honoured. Like the fiddle player, the address writer fulfilled a respected and essential role in the community. Aunie Aitcheson in Avonton, and George Kerr in Dickson's Corners were such people. Gordon was also a good address writer. When Lois' father Bob Hearn reached his 65th birthday, his children decided to have a celebration at the farm and to give him a watch as a present. Here is the address which was written and read by Gordon on the evening of January 11 1952. The address was saved, and after Bob died it was given to Roberta by Jean, who was Bob's second wife. The address is in Lois' handwriting but I have typed it out to make it easier to read. I have also added in italics a few explanatory notes. (Remember double click on the image to enlarge it.)

Saga of a Sourdough

There lived in Downie Township
A man named Bobby Hearn
Who, though not large in stature
Had energy to burn.

At all the rural dances
He'd cavort with all his might
Though often he was reinforced
By a shot of Black and White.
(Bob Hearn was known to enjoy a drink of whiskey)

But regardless of the weather
He'd sell his load of bread
His open sled being drawn
By fleet-footed Tops and Ted.
(Tops and Ted are names of his horses)

He was noted for being able
To buck the drifts of snow
And always brought his products
When other bakers feared to go.

So, not heeding the low temperatures
He was always on the job
Old Sam beside the fire would cry
Lil, My God, here's Bob.
(The Sam and Lil here are the Hermans. Bob Hearn stopped there for lunch)

One reason why this ball of fire
Had never hit the skids
Was that a home were waiting
A flock of seven kids
(He and Mae had seven children: Lyle, Lois, Kelly, Ivan, Don, Vic, Roberta)

Uncle Lyle the oldest
Was able without fail
To do extensive damage
To a bottle of ginger ale.
(Lyle, the slow-learning eldest son, loved ginger ale)

Lois, the older daughter
One of her father's joys
Was by coy looks and glances
A favourite of local boys

One of her early lovers
Was a chap named Jimmy Payton
But a few brief words from Bobby
And the couple quit their datin

The second boy little Kelly
Who was his daddy's dear
Was being groomed by all the relatives
To be an auctioneer
(Kelly was the businessman. Even as a child Lois remembers Kelly as always have something to sell or trade.)

Now Ivan was the tidy one
To work he was not lax
He thought he could boss the others
Till Lyle chased him with the axe
(There is a story in the family of the others teasing Lyle to the point where he took after Ivan with an axe)

Don and Maggie Hepburn
Used to dance around the table
Until one night our Maggie
Blew him half way to the stable
(After Mae died Maggie Hepburn came to look after the children. I believe this story is based on an incident in which flatulence was involved.)

Then our little Victor
With the Puschelbergs did chum
He never will be lonely
For he'll always have this thumb
(Vic sucked his thumb well into adulthood)

The wee-est child Roberta
Should have been a goodly lass
For Victor, systematically
Would spank her little _____ (hands)

To bolster the family budget
Bob sold the occasional car
And in his selling missions
He roamed both near and far

One day this smooth talking salesman
Received a red hot tip
And in his Ford product
To the Goderich road did whip
(Bob Hearn's second wife lived on the Goderich Road which runs between Stratford and Goderich through Sebringville and Mitchell.)

The customer was prone to buy
But she had poor Bobby guessin
For in her life she'd never had
A single driving lesson
(I believe that Jean who was in her 30's at this time, had inherited some money and decide to buy a car but she had never learned to drive.)

Twas then our Bob became enmeshed
For she had trouble with the wheel
To keep the car upon the road
Around her waist he'd steal --

His arm -- to steady her
But there he met his doom
For she was wearing just by chance
A subtle, sweet perfume.

Poor Bobby got a dreamy look
Towards Jean he began to hitch
But in the next split second
They were bouncing down the ditch
(Bob did meet Jean while giving her driving lessons)

Fence wires snapped before them
As Bob began to pray
But they ended up quite comfortably
In Jack Campbell's field of hay
(Jack Campbell was Jean's father with whom she lived)

Well Bobby sold the auto
But the transaction grew
Before he was finished
He had sold himself too

Bob and Jean were married
But Robert was not whipped
For Doug and Jack are proof you know
He had not completely slipped.

This is your celebration
So amid our shouts and cheers
We fondly hope that you may live
Another 100 years.

Now folks we wish to say to you
Myself and all the rest
It is our fondest hope that you
May have from life -- the best.

This token we do now present
From those assembled here
May it remind you of us all
Who hold you very dear.

Advertisement in the London Free Press

The spring of 1942 found Gordon and Lois living in the back of Houcke's General Store in St. Pauls. While they did have the luxury of being on their own, they and their two girls, both under the age of four, were living in three rooms with no toilet, no running water, no fridge and certainly no phone. As an added complication, Lois had recently realized -- against all doctor's orders -- that she was pregnant. In May when the various schools would begin advertising for teachers for the following September Gordon would go out into the store to read through the want ads. Here is the London Free Press from 30 May 1942. (Remember, if you double click on it, you can enlarge it.) I am sure that the idea of a house, a garden, and a garage as advertised by the trustees of SS#3 North Oxford was immensely appealing. Since they already needed to drive into London for a doctor's appointment Gordon said: "We will go early and take a look at the place." They knew that Highway 2 ran through Woodstock in Oxford County so they started their search for the school there. When Gordon enquired in Woodstock no one had heard of Erwood Kerr. However, in Ingersoll Gordon had better luck and was given precise directions to follow Highway 2 until Dickson's Corners where he would see the school and the house. He was to turn right and Erwood Kerr lived on the farm with the big red brick house on the left just past the second concession road. When Gordon knocked on Erwood's door Mrs. Kerr and the two boys were eating lunch. Erwood was absent. "You will likely find him in the barn having a sleep in the hay mound." Once roused, Erwood said they would have to drive up to talk to Walter Hutchison. While Gordon was introduced to Walt, Lois and the girls waited in the car. Walt's wife Bernice who still had her hair in curlers ran out to the car -- despite her daughter's protestations --- "to say hello because this may be the new teacher's wife." Jack Butterworth was the third trustee who would make the hiring decision and they agreed to meet with him at the school house. At the school Gordon told the trustees " I want a lot more than your last teacher got" and asked for a 200 dollar raise to $1200 per year. The trustees suggested that Gordon look over the cottage while they made a decision. Lois remembers the cottage as pretty dilapidated. The grass hadn't been cut for weeks because the last teacher had moved out in the early spring, the inside of the house was shabby, and of course the garden was nonexistent. However, it was a house, and it could be theirs! It even had a verandah. The trustees offered the job to Gordon, and hired Lois to be the caretaker at $200 per year. And that began 10 happy, happy years where there was little money but lots of good friends, deep relationships, and as Lois expresses it, "lots of fun and good laughs".

The Print of Summer Flowers

In the spring of 1942 Gordon saw an advertizement announcing that the trustees of SS#3 North Oxford were looking for a teacher for the one-room schoolhouse at Dickson's Corners. A teacherage came with the job. There are several stories to be told about how Gordon got that job and about the very different reactions of his wife Lois and his mother Beanie to the move from St. Pauls in Downie Township to Dickson's Corners which was 30 miles south in Oxford County .... but that is for another time. This story is about the picture that hung in the living room of the cottage that sat on the school grounds. The new house had to be furnished and Gordon and Lois carefully picked out brand new furniture for the living room at Hudson's store in Stratford. The furniture consisted of a couch and two chairs, all overstuffed in long-lasting dark green and maroon fabric. After spending more on the furniture than they thought they could afford, Lois realized that she had nothing for the walls of the new living room. She consulted with Gordon and together they decided that they could buy one picture for which they paid $2.95. That print of a bouquet of summer flowers hung on the wall in the cottage at Dickson's Corners for the next ten years. Here, in about 1951, are the four McEwan children sitting wide-eyed and excited (likely because they were having their picture taken with a "flash") in front of the $2.95 print.
When the McEwans moved back to Perth County in 1952, the picture of the summer flowers was relegated to the storeroom, and then, many years later, it was moved to Lou and John's house along with the overstuffed couch and chairs (which incidentally had never seen the light of day because they were always carefully covered with slips in a variety of exuberant flower patterns). The picture rested in Lou and John's attic until three years ago, when it was given to Bob and Jean as a Christmas gift. Now, 65 years after it was first purchased, the print of the summer flowers hangs in Bob's living room, a reminder of a different era in which young couples debated over whether they could afford $2.95 for a picture for their living room.

Engagement Notice

This very likely appeared in the St. Marys Journal Argus in the Fall of 1937.

Lifelong Friendships

Lois is a very social person. Her unique capacity to reach out and to connect with people, has meant that her friendships are often solid and long-lasting. As a teenager two of her good friends were Mary Riley and Helen Teahen, both girls she went to school with at # 9. Here is a picture of the three of them in the summer of 1930 when Lois was 16. Lois refers to Mary Riley as her best friend in those years. Mary came from a large family which, like Lois' family was poor. Mary's mother had died early and "Grandma Riley" had taken over as mother. After finishing high school Mary took a business course in London and, it was there that she met George Grant who was "a Protestant". Of course Mary was Catholic and in the 1930's in Perth County there was a strong bias against interfaith marriage. In spite of possible objections, Mary and George did marry and went to live in Chicago.

The second picture was taken on a Sunday outing to Grand Bend also in 1930. Lois' date on this occasion was Earl Boyes, a farmer, two years older than Lois. He lived with his mother and step-father on the homestead near Sebringville. They went in Earl's car. While they certainly did not go swimming at the Bend, they did walk around and got someone to take their picture. Sixty years later when Lois and Earl were both widowed, they remained good friends and frequently got together to play cards, to go out to eat, or to take drives through the country. The couple on the right of the picture is Florence Bell and Ting Murray. They later married. Ting and Florence lived on the home farm within a few miles of Gordon and Lois and the two couples often went dancing at Lakeside. Like Lois and Gordon, Ting and Florence were great card players. The two couples established teams with Lois and Ting on one team and Gordon and Florence on the other team. They played cards at least once a week. They kept track of the hundreds of games they played, and at the end of December they declared a winner for the year. In one year Lois remembers that there were only 2 games separating the teams. Ting was an excellent card player and his comment: "Just take a smoke, Lois" was a signal that he wanted to play a lone hand. It was not unusual, Lois recalls, for Ting and Florence to arrive soon after supper on a Saturday night so that the two couples could play a few games of cards before driving to the dance at Lakeside. After the dance they would return and play more cards. By then it was likely 2 a.m. and, of course, they all had to be sitting in church for the eleven o'clock service the next day.
The couple in the middle of the picture is Helen Lang, another good friend of Lois', and Slim (Melvin) Murray, a cousin of Ting's. The Langs lived down the road from Lois, and Slim lived near Ting's on the road behind Earl. Lois remembers Slim as a "lovely dancer."

Mother's Day Tradition

Sunday May 13th

Lois told of her mother Mae and the Mother's day tradition that Lois remembers:

Lois' mother Mae had strong religious beliefs established by her Methodist parents who came from the robust protestant tradition of Northern Ireland. It was only natural, then, that once she was married and had moved to the farm, that she would attend the Bethesda Sunday School, a tiny frame structure located 3/4 of a mile up the road from their farm on land that originally belonged to the Delabols. Mae played the organ in the Sunday School and taught one of the classes. The Sunday School which was developed as an outpost from the much larger Methodist church in St. Marys operated only in good weather. It had no minister but Mr. Proudlove and Mrs. Vanstone took turns acting as superintendent. Each Sunday Mae and her children would walk up the road past the farms of the Boyds, the Ogglesbys, and the Turners, arriving for the 2:30 service. On Mother's Day it was traditional for each person to wear a flower: white, if your mother was dead, and coloured if your mother was living. Lois remembers she, her brothers and her mother all wearing brightly coloured flowers. Mae loved Bleeding Heart flowers and had several large plants in her garden. It is likely that at least one of them wore a red Bleeding Heart flower on Mother's Day Sunday. Sadly Mae never got to wear a white flower. She died in 1933 when her children were all young, and a full five years before her own mother.

Bob here: Years later when Lois and her children, Lou, Loiey, Terry and I attended the large Methodist Church, but by then called the United Church, in St. Marys, I remember Lois following her mother's tradition. Each of us wore a flower. Lois wore a white flower and we four children wore a coloured flower.

The Face on the Barroom Floor

Here is the other poem that Gordon's mother Beanie used to recite to us, her grandchildren. While I (Bob) do not remember the words, I do remember the "horror story" quality of the telling. I've omitted some of the stanzas here. A google search will find you the whole poem, or email me, and I'll send it to you.

The Face on the Barroom Floor

'TWAS a balmy summer evening, and a goodly crowd was there,

Which well-nigh filled Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square;

And as songs and witty stories came through the open door,

A vagabond crept slowly in and posed upon the floor. [....]


This badinage the poor wretch took with stoical good grace;

In face, he smiled as tho' he thought he'd struck the proper place.

"Come, boys, I know there's kindly hearts among so good a crowd --

To be in such good company would make a deacon proud. [...]


"I'll tell you a funny story, and a fact, I promise, too.

Say! Give me another whiskey, and I'll tell what I'll do --

That I was ever a decent man not one of you would think;

But I was, some four or five years back. Say, give me another drink. [....]


"I was a painter -- not one that daubed on bricks and wood,

But an artist, and for my age, was rated pretty good.

I worked hard at my canvas, and was bidding fair to rise,

For gradually I saw the star of fame before my eyes.

"I made a picture perhaps you've seen, 'tis called the `Chase of Fame.'

It brought me fifteen hundred pounds and added to my name,

And then I met a woman -- now comes the funny part --

With eyes that petrified my brain, and sunk into my heart. [....]


"Boys, did you ever see a girl for whom your soul you'd give,

With a form like the Milo Venus, too beautiful to live;

With eyes that would beat the Koh-i-noor, and a wealth of chestnut hair?

If so, 'twas she, for there never was another half so fair.

"I was working on a portrait, one afternoon in May,

Of a fair-haired boy, a friend of mine, who lived across the way.

And Madeline admired it, and much to my surprise,

Said she'd like to know the man that had such dreamy eyes.

"It didn't take long to know him, and before the month had flown

My friend had stole my darling, and I was left alone;

And ere a year of misery had passed above my head,

The jewel I had treasured so had tarnished and was dead.

"That's why I took to drink, boys. Why, I never see you smile,

I thought you'd be amused, and laughing all the while.

Why, what's the matter, friend? There's a tear-drop in you eye,

Come, laugh like me. 'Tis only babes and women that should cry.

"Say, boys, if you give me just another whiskey I'll be glad,

And I'll draw right here a picture of the face that drove me mad.

Give me that piece of chalk with which you mark the baseball score --

You shall see the lovely Madeline upon the barroon floor."

Another drink, and with chalk in hand, the vagabond began

To sketch a face that well might buy the soul of any man.

Then, as he placed another lock upon the shapely head,

With a fearful shriek, he leaped and fell across the picture -- dead.

Hugh Antoine D'Arcy

Somebody's Mother

We have talked about the poetry that Gordon's mother Beanie used to recite. As a young child I remember the tension and "apprehension-approaching-fear" that I felt as I knelt on the floor of the darkened sitting room while she sat high above us in the great oak chair beneath the gold-framed picture of her brother Will who died mysteriously on someone's doorstep. In her quavering, old lady's voice she would recite the poem Somebody's Mother : "she was old, and feeble .... down the street came the bouncing boys ..... God bless the boy who is somebody's ..... . While the emotion comes back those are all the words I can remember. However, tonight I have found the original poem and here it is:

Somebody's Mother

- Mary Dow Brine (1816-1913)

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.

The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng

Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eyes.

Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of "school let out,"

Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.

Nor offered a helping hand to her -
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie of all the group;

He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."

Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.

"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,

"And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,

"If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."

And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said

Was "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!"

Gordon's mother Beanie

Gordon’s mother Beanie (a diminutive of the name Rubina) was a complex person, eliciting very different emotions from among those of us who knew her. Born in 1880, she was the youngest of nine children of Scottish parents. While she claimed to be no great scholar, she also claimed that she could throw the ball further and run faster than anyone else in the school. At school she did learn to recite poetry and, as an old woman she would repeat “The Face On The Barroom Floor” with all the melodrama of the Victorian music hall. Above is a picture of her and Jack likely before they were married. Lois remembers her as being a good sport on the trip to Niagara Falls.

At the same time, Beanie was obsessively controlling of her son Gordon and she made Lois desperately unhappy when the older and younger couple shared the family farm home for a short time after Gordon and Lois were married. Beanie loved fashion and deeply regretted that they had no money to buy luxuries. After Jack died she went to work for a short time in a knitting mill in Stratford. Then she moved in with her sister Alice and her brother-in-law Charlie Ballantyne who owned a big red brick house on Elizabeth Street in Stratford. (As an afterthought: if you click on the picture, it will enlarge to full screen size.)

Gordon's father Jack & the Canada Company House

In our first post we met Lois, Gordon, and Gordon's parents, Jack McEwan and Beanie McEwan (Irvine) on their trip to Niagara Falls. Today we'll write more about Jack McEwan, and his brother-in-law Charlie Ballantyne, who lived on a neighbouring farm in Downie Township.

Unlike his prosperous brother-in-law Charlie Ballantyne, Gordon’s father Jack McEwan was not really a farmer at heart. He had been happy working as a bicycle salesman in Kitchener when he father became ill and died of cancer. At the age of 16, then, Jack had no choice but to return home to take over the farm. His mother and his two older sisters needed support. When Charlie Ballantyne married Alice Irvine, Jack was introduced to Alice’s younger sister Beanie and nine years later, when he was 30 and she was 26, they were married. At first they lived in a “Canada Company” house which can be seen above. Gordon told stories about how drafty the house was. He could remember waking up on a winter's morning with snow piled up on the inside of his window. Later they built the two storey red brick house which can be seen just to the left of the Canada Company house.

Life was hard for Jack. He never had good farm equipment. At one point his barn burned down. For many years he had a creamery route where he collected milk from neighbouring farmers for delivery to the cheese factory. His sociability was a common theme throughout his life. It is said that when he was out plowing and saw a neighbour passing, he was always ready to leave the team for a friendly chat over the fence. Jack’s brother-in-law Charlie, in contrast, kept two teams of horses going. When one team became tired, Charlie’s wife would have the second team harnessed and ready so that there would be no time lost.

Jack was 38 when his only son, Gordon, was born. From the very beginning, Gordon's mother actively discouraged him from being a farmer. Beanie wanted her son to get an education and become a professional. Jack kept the farm until roughly 1942 when he and Beanie sold the farm and rented a house in St. Pauls, across the road from Houcke's General Store. Jack developed circulation problems as he got older, and slept with his foot inside a box where a lightbulb provided heat to improve the circulation.

The first date

It was a Saturday night in the late summer of 1932. Lois and Gordon were both 18. As was typical in that era, when the weather was clear there would be a Saturday evening ballgame followed by an outdoor dance. They were major social events for the community, and for the young people in particular....

On this evening, Gordon played ball for Number 7. Lois had come to watch the game with her father, Bob Hearn. After the game, as Bob and Lois walked toward the car, Bob stopped to chat and Lois ran into Gordon.

"Lois, save me the second dance" Gordon said. "If you want to dance with me, you'll have to come down to dad's kitchen" she replied. "Why, aren't you going?" he asked. "No." "Will you go with me?"

Lois agreed to go to the dance that evening, and Gordon came to pick her up in the family car. He was wearing plus fours (trousers that came down just below the knee and were worn with knee socks) and a rust coloured sweater. Lois thought he looked wonderful.

When Lois and Gordon arrived at the dance, one of Gordon's cousins, Merv, called out to him. "Does your mother know you're out, Gordon?" Gordon was angry and humiliated. He spoke under his breath. "The ignorant bugger."

Introductions: Lois and Gordon

Hello everyone! Welcome to our family blog! This is a little experiment, and part of a larger project headed by Lou .... We were at Grandma Lois' this past Saturday, brainstorming for some ideas on how to make Lois' 95th Birthday project a little more accessible to us all, regardless of where we are.

The idea is to have weekly posts with pictures from Lois' and Gordon's past and present, accompanied by a story. Jessica and Bob are administering the site at the moment, so if you have ideas for posts, questions about people, places, or things that relate to Lois and/or Gordon that you'd like to see, send them to us. We'll see how it goes!

Now, on to today's story:

In the summer of 1937, Gordon invited Lois to go on a day trip to Niagara Falls. This was before Gordon and Lois were married. Gordon didn't have a car of his own so he had to borrow his parents' car, which meant his parents wanted to come along too.

Lois' mother had been dead now for four years. Lois was acting as mother to her five brothers and one younger sister, two of whom were under the age of five. It was a real treat to have a day's outing. Lois had no money, but she wanted something special to wear for her day away from home. She knit herself a dress, especially for the occasion.

At the time, Gordon was working at his first teaching job at the Black Creek school near Sebringville, just outside of Stratford, Ontario. Gordon had little money, but he had enough to put gas in the car to get them to Niagara Falls. Gordon's father Jack, on the other hand, had even less money than Gordon, and felt this fact keenly. When Gordon, Lois, Jack and Binnie (Gordon's mother) stopped to fill the car with gas along the way, Jack wanted to be able to pay for the gas. Gordon slipped the money to Jack, and Jack proudly went in to the station and paid for the gas himself.

We're not sure who owned the camera, but Gordon likely took the picture of Lois.