ROBERT AND PEARL , DUCHESS ALBERTA , 1946
The war is over! The soldiers who are fortunate enough to be
returning home have arrived and settled in, recognizable but changed, eyes
haunted by visions they struggle to forget.
A few men are back from working for 50 cents a day at Seebe
forestry camp. They are conscientious objectors, and Robert is one of them. And
Robert is in love.
The engagement picture shows two awkward, very serious young
adults, dressed in modified Mennonite clothing—she with long hair pulled back
in braids around her head, covered with a net ‘covering’, loose blouse, skirt
just below the knee, arms crossed tensely in front of her, smiling slightly. He
is wearing a suit and vest, with no tie, and dark, short hair, slicked back.
Robert was born
in a farmhouse near Tofield , Alberta ,
Canada , 40 miles east of the
provincial capital, Edmonton ,
in February 1924. He was his parents’ second child, but their first child, a
girl, died in infancy. Robert grew up with a distant, intelligent father, and
as he told me a few months before his death at 73, a mother who regularly beat
him with willow branches, or any stick she laid her hands on.
Robert was a physical presence in an intellectual
environment. He reached his full height of 6 feet at 12. His younger sister and
brother were brilliant students, and artists. A sister, Virginia was born last,
and was loved and treasured by all. She also succumbed to a communicable
childhood disease before the age of 3.
Robert loved playing ball, hunting gophers, and working with
his hands. He started smoking at 9—another revelation in the last year of his
life, although there certainly were clues throughout my childhood. Robert’s
maternal uncles had a reputation in the Mennonite community of being wild, and
were known to be athletic. All died in their 40s of heart ailments. Robert’s
mother, Irene, also died at 45 of a heart attack.
Pictures of Mom in her childhood reveal a sensitive,
unsmiling, attractive broad-faced child with wavy hair and big blue eyes. The
exceptions to the stern expression occurred when she had a baby or small animal
in her arms. Pearl ’s
sister Shirley was a year older, and was considered the family beauty. Pearl dressed fashionably
and was somewhat proud of her tiny waist and long, wavy hair, but was aware of
her ‘also ran’ status in terms of looks. She focused on piano lessons. She
played piano for the numerous family singing parties, as well as for dances and
weddings. She worked hard in high school as she planned to become a nurse, possibly
in India ,
where she had dreams of becoming a missionary. Major events in her early life were her
illness in mid-childhood, which she believed was polio, and dust storms that filled
the air and sifted in through cracks in walls, filled bowls, and left drifts on
floors.
Raising 8 children in a small Saskatchewan
town in the 30’s required some imagination and a lot of hard work on the part
of Pearl ’s
parents, Sally and John. Pearl ’s
father was a jovial man with a barrel chest, a reputation for strength, and a
loud voice, who did not seem to pass on much of his extraversion to his
offspring. He sold Fuller Brush products, sharpened knives and scissors for the
neighborhood and beyond, and sold fertilizer to the surrounding famers. The
family raised a few cows and the younger children delivered milk to the
neighbors for a few cents a week.
Sally was known for her gentleness and her smile, and for
keeping her hands busy sewing, cooking, or cleaning. She loved literature and
music, and would sing songs and read nursery rhymes to small children until her
voice cracked.
Robert and Pearl
met in a Mennonite youth group in Duchess. Pearl ’s
older sister Leila had joined the church, and invited Pearl to attend meetings and social events
with her. Both women were attracted to the Gospel message, the conservative way
of life and they made strong friendships that lasted for years.
When Pearl
accepted Robert’s proposal, he gave her a small cedar chest as a gift, and a
watch instead of a ring, as was this group’s custom. He also built a small
house in Duchess for them to live in after the wedding on July 14, 1946. Robert
was working for a local man as a farm hand. Pearl stopped working as a nurse’s aid in the
Brooks Hospital just before the wedding.
Just under a year later, I was born, a month early, but
healthy, weighing 6 lb. 3 ounces. Even though prenatal care and delivery came
with a price tag in the days before universal medical coverage, Robert and Pearl were optimistic,
and life was sweet.
Four months later, Pearl
developed pleurisy and her left lung collapsed. She was admitted to the
hospital. Her mother, now a widow, travelled from Medicine Hat to look after the baby. Pearl needed surgery, and
a long hospital stay, and was facing a long convalescence. By this time,
Robert’s father had remarried. Robert asked if he and his family could stay
with the new couple until the medical bills were paid, and Pearl regained her strength. They agreed.
IRENE: EARLIEST MEMORIES :
Grandpa Ezra and Stella’s house: “The Fisher Place ,” Tofield , Alberta
It’s warm out even though it’s
almost bedtime, and the air smells like yarrow, clover and cows. The cows are
bawling to be milked, and Grandpa puts on his striped overalls, picks up a
couple of pails from the shed on the side of the house, and heads out to the
barn. I skip along beside him.
“Are you going to milk Bessie?”
“Definitely.”
“Are you going to give the cats some milk to
drink?”
“Possibly.”
“Can we go see the baby horse?”…Silence.
That’s the signal to stop bothering Grandpa and go find Daddy. He’s working on
the railing beside the barn, and when I reach him he smiles, finishes pounding
in the last two nails, drops the hammer into his pocket, picks me up and tosses
me in the air. I squeal appreciatively. He carries me to the house on his
shoulders.
Although the details of living at my grandfather’s house are
fuzzy to me now, since we moved there when I was 8 months old and left when I
was 3, I have lasting impressions of Queenie, the collie, and my step-grandmother,
Stella. Stella was probably in her late thirties when she married my
grandfather, and was a hard-working, pleasant woman and an excellent cook. Her
husband was well respected in the Mennonite community, but he was nearly 20
years older, and his heart was failing. I was usually welcomed when I visited
their part of the house, but there were times when Grandpa was in severe pain,
and I had to leave.
Grandpa’s house had a parlor, with a lovely polished wood
bookcase full of books. There was no running water, but there was a windmill on
the property with a pump whose handle would lift little children up into the
air. Water for the household came from the pump on the kitchen counter.
The farm was operational, but it didn’t make much money.
Grandpa was, of course, more focused on books, preaching, teaching and touring
than on making a living. One year, a huge storm took the roof right off the
tall red barn. Almost overnight, the men of the Mennonite community replaced
it. They arrived in pickup trucks, with tools and lumber. They sang and joked
with one another as they busily pulled boards off the blown-away roof and set
to work replacing the ones that were not broken.
The large country kitchen was buzzing with preparations of
food for them all: roast beef, pickles, preserves, mounds of mashed potatoes,
corn and peas from jars in the pantry, big, white loaves of bread, and apple
pies.
We stayed in Tofield for much longer than any married couple
would be comfortable with. It was probably a blessing that Mom had another
medical condition that prevented her from further pregnancies at that time.
Eventually, when I was 3 1/2, in 1949, we moved to Culp , Alberta , in the
north eastern part of the province, where my parents, partially supported by
the Mennonite Church Smoky River
at Watino.
