Looking
back on Sand Beach
Date: 12/6/2009
Sand Beach School at Christmas time in the 1930s Winters in Sand Beach in the 1930s were fun for children and challenging for adults. I remember lots of snow every Christmas. I can remember looking out our front room window and watching men shovelling banks of snow to break the road open enough to make it passable. Some men had a car or truck, but not many. I remember in December of 1940 my brother and I getting a ride from church in a truck driven by a cousin who lived down Wyman Road. When we arrived home we were delighted to learn that we had a new little sister! Saint Nick and his reindeer never had a problem getting around Sand Beach, and Christmas time was the highlight of winter. Teachers and parents and the whole school of children were busy and excited getting ready for the Christmas concert. Children made decorations while adults arranged a stage on the teacher’s platform in front of the one-room school. All turned to magic for that one event. We sang carols we had been practicing all month long, and some talented pupils sang solos, while others gave recitations. Some from the higher grades performed skits and little plays after which Santa passed out gifts from under the beautifully decorated big tree that was cut down from nearby woods. On it had appeared pretty popcorn balls, candy canes, shiny tinsel and many ornaments including pipe-cleaner Santas and Elves of every color. It was amazing the excitement when all the community young and old had gathered in that little old school house to celebrate this special time of year. How joyful and cheerful everybody was! Santa’s elves passed out little white bags of “hard mix” candies of many delicious flavors: cloves and lemon were my favorites back then. There was a long school holiday, lasting from before Christmas till about January 7. When we returned to school we told stories about our Christmas at home, and how we spent Christmas vacation. We told one another what Santa had brought, and how we spent our day at home. But when I asked some cousins from Kelly’s Cove way, I was surprised and baffled to learn that they had Christmas like everybody else, went to church and had a fine dinner and so on, but that they did not receive their Christmas gifts until “Petit Noel” or what some called “Old Christmas” which is January 6, the feast of the Epiphany, when three Kings from the Orient brought gifts to the Christ Child. That is the feast many of our Acadian ancestors exchanged gifts, the day children received a visit from Saint Nicholas. This was most interesting to me especially when I began to understand that these were also my own ancestors! I learned all this from my little cousins who lived way down below Sand Beach. Children received practical gifts such as home knit mittens, caps and stockings, along with a few toys and candies. Most families had a sled or two, usually home made. Some older boys made what they called a double-runner, which seems to have been two sleds, one on each end of a long wide board, making something like a toboggan upon which several children could speed downhill, that is if all could hang on all the way down, but usually some would fall off part way down. It was lots of fun. I remember two kinds of sleds, the flat little wooden ones for younger children with no steering, and the higher ones that had handles that one could use to steer right or left. I remember older children being gone for hours and when they got back home they had been sliding down “Kinney’s Hill” wherever that was, but the younger ones had to stay at home and slide down the big snowbanks in the yard. Rappie Pie was standard
fare for many Acadians, and my Dad being a very good cook, made the best
I ever tasted. I believed he also made the best biscuits and donuts.
My cousins on the Wyman Road made the very best strawberry jam, and Aunt
Carrie made the very best hot chocolate ever!
Date: 10/26/2009
Comments: Edith Cavell
Goodwin
My mother always said Edith was the best maid she ever had. “She could just go right ahead and do what she knew needed to be done without me telling her every move, and how to do it. She just went ahead, she knew how to work!” Edith kept us children, and our kitchen and pantry clean and tidy, and lots more. She made our school lunches and even sprinkled a bit of sugar on our peanut-butter sandwiches. She shined the little red apples to go in beside them, buttoned our coats, tied my bonnet, and we were off for the day. Edith helped mom with the wash, which was all done by hand. Water from the well heating on the big iron stove, large galvanized tub and washboard, small rinse tub, and these fixed on top of two or three old half-chairs from the back porch, blocks of home made lye soap, and a long rope clothesline with a lifting pole from nearby woodlot: those are some vivid memories. Edith had Thursday afternoons off, and usually she went up town to do whatever business, shopping or visiting she wanted to do. She dressed so prettily to go out. Her auburn hair was a sea of deep and beautiful waves, with tiny curls around the edges. She looked lovely in her lavender sweaters and light gray or bluish skirts. To me, she was very pretty and she was my pretend fairy godmother; that’s because she was so gentle and kind and thoughtful. She told us the story of how she got her name. Edith Cavell was a nurse, heroine and martyr. During the first world war she sheltered soldiers and freed a good many by getting them out of Belgium and into Holland where they would be safe. For doing that, she was put to death. The whole world honors her and her heroism to this day. How secretly jealous I was when I heard that a Mr. Carl Adams was going to marry “my Edith” and take her to his home with him! That’s when I was made to realize that I had a great deal of growing to do! I had clung to her because in my childhood she had been so special and because my mother treasured her so much. And Edith always had good things to say about my mother and about the time she lived with us in Sand Beach. One more little story before I end this: The stores in Yarmouth were closed on Wednesday afternoons to give the clerks a break. One time the Royal Store up town was advertizing “Wetums Dolls” –dolls that wore a diaper and could ‘drink and wet’– for twenty-five cents! Even though I had two dolls, I really wanted one of these baby dolls! Edith said she would take me with her next Thursday and buy me one. Dolls were among my favorite toys, but come the happy day, we arrived there, myself overflowing with excitement, when the lovely young clerk said “Sorry, there are none left–sold really fast.” Oh, how sad a time that was, no ‘wetums’ doll! And when we got back home, I remember my mother saying something like “Good, we’ve got enough real live little wetters already, we don’t need to buy one.” Years later, I found out
that Edith was living in Kelley’s Cove. I was glad that the Adams
home was right next to Sand Beach where she would feel at home. The
Sand Beach children used to go sliding in winter with their schoolmates,
the Kelley’s Cove children, so it was quite near.
webmaster's addition: A bit more information on Edith (I think this is correct) 14.*I give, devise and bequeath my Electric Lamp to my daughter-in-law, Edith Adams, wife of my said son, Carl Morrison Adams. Source of will=http://209.188.85.247/showthread.php?p=312149 Subject: Halloween In the 1930s in Sand Beach,
Halloween was celebrated, but nothing like it is today. First of all, it
was spelled Hallowe'en because it is the eve or vigil of the religious
feast of all saints.
In those days there were no spooky decorations anywhere, only pumpkins of all sizes and shapes. Children scooped out the seeds from inside their chosen pumpkin, and then cut eyes, nose and mouth to make what was called a jack-o'-lantern. The lantern part was made by a lighted candle inside which shone through the cut-out faces of the pumpkin shell. [on the Internet I found something interesting that I never heard before. There we read that the jack-o’-lantern is "associated chiefly with the holiday Halloween, and was named after the phenomenon of strange light flickering over peat bogs, called ignis fatuus or jack-o'-lantern." Also, one dictionary tells us that ignis fatuus is "A phosphorescent light that hovers or flits over swampy ground at night, possibly caused by spontaneous combustion of gases emitted by rotting organic matter. Also called friar's lantern, jack-o'-lantern, Also called will-o'-the-wisp, wisp. Also, "something that misleads or deludes; an illusion."] Anyway, as I recall from
childhood, this is what we did in Sand Beach to make a jack o'-lantern.
After the top was cut off and set aside for a cover or hat for the pumpkin,
we took a large spoon and scooped out all the pulp and seeds from the inside,
and then tried to cut out a scarey face on the pumpkin shell.
After supper, at dusk we would go from house to house with these shining and flickering spooky ghost-like faces and shine them in the windows of our neighbours --who, naturally were nearly "frightened out of their wits!" Children wore some kind of mask, usually home made from oilcloth or even brown paper bags and string or elastic, so that nobody could recognize us, we believed. We went to one another’s homes to do this, and a big part of our great fun was that none of us goblins spoke aloud, all was done in spooky whispers, moans and groans like ooooooo-ooo. The adults inside their kitchens at the windows were great performers in those days which greatly heightened our childish delight! As opposed to today’s Halloween, there was no such thing as today's "trick or treat," and no thought of receiving anything from those we visited. There were no decorations in yards or anywhere. Our fun was to pretend there were ghosts and goblins going around the neighbourhood, causing chills and excitement and lots of fun. When everyone was back home there might be milk and a cookie or warm cocoa and a piece of bannock, and soon it was bedtime which was later than usual, about eight o'clock for this one special evening, It caused us to wonder next day how some real mischief had come about, soap on windows and overturned wagons or outhouses: were there real ghosts and goblins in our neighbourhood after we were safe in bed? In those days our jack-o'-lanterns
were really quite spectacular because there were no outside lights anywhere
and homes did not have electric lights, only rather dim oil lamps, so to
see a little group of children parading around with lighted pumpkins was
quite sight.
Also, whenever the adults thought we should be on our way, they would pull down the big old green window blind and cover the window, so we could no longer see them and went on our way. It was exciting, simple
and innocent as it was!
Marie
Date: 8/9/2009 Name: Marie Location: PEI Comments: In 1938, the Grade two pupils at Sand Beach School, under the tutelage of Miss Clarke, answered an invitation by radio station CJLS in Yarmouth, to write a letter to Uncle Bob. Grade Two children in all the schools within listening distance were asked to write a letter and Uncle Bob would read a select few over the radio at a certain date and time, so all families were urged to listen-in, especially families of the young writers. Excitement in all the local schools was mounting by the day to learn which school would win the top prize. I was in Grade Two and all of us in that grade had written to Uncle Bob and Miss Clarke sent our letters to the CJLS station. Our family had no radio at home, so Mama asked Bob Calquhoun, and we three listened –sort of-- to this special Uncle Bob program on his battery radio. The radio was up on a shelf so Bob lifted me up on his knee so that I would be better able to hear, but I age seven and was so shy to be sitting on his lap that I began to squirm my way down to the floor. The more I squirmed, the tighter he held my torso and the tighter he held me, the more I squirmed. Uncle Bob was busy reading letters and making comments, none of which I heard. Mama was trying to listen and was embarrassed at my behaviour. I kept saying to Bob, "Let me down!" But he tried told me to listen, which I was not able to do, I was that shy and embarrassed at being on his lap and being held there. So I resorted to telling him if he didn't let me down, I'd pull up his pant-legs, which I was already doing, and showing my beautiful young mother his skinny legs covered with long black hairs! Then HE was embarrassed and my poor mother was totally humiliated, and so was I, yet felt defiant and vindicated when he did finally let me down. Just then MY name was given as the writer of the best letter and the honor went to Miss Clarke at Sand Beach School. The prize was a book called "Ruffles and Dandy" which I took home but never read, because I had not yet learned to read, and my French-speaking parents were not ready to read me something that was so foreign to their culture, so it remained unread. That was the very beginning of my writing career, and, even yet, in my old-age, I still have a great deal of embarrassment as I try to write --for whatever reason. I hope someone gets a chuckle, at least, out of this – and my sincere apologies to my latest literary hero, the kindly and generous and most patient Mr. Bob Calquhoun of Sand Beach.
Date: 6/5/2009 Name: marie Location: E-Mail: Comments: In Sand Beach, in the 1930s, one of the regular peddlers who came around every week with his truck selling meat, was a Mr Patten (or Patton?). The truck would stop in the middle of the dirt road and neighbours would gather and make their purchases while everyone caught up on most of latest news from a radius of probably five or ten long miles --who had illness or any misfortune, who had a newborn, who moved away, who returned, how bad the storm was, who lost what by lightning, whose boat capsized, and so on. My two brothers and I
would follow Dad to the road, and most often the kindly Mr Patten would
press a big Newfoundland cent into the palm of our hand, each one! When
he came around in the fall with barrels of apples to sell, we excitedly
emptied our piggy banks to help make up the three dollars to pay for the
beautiful apples, barrel and all! Those were the days! How
could one ever forget such a p;lace and such neighbours! Blessed memories.
Date: 6/3/2009 By the way, I forgot to
tell the story of the time Clyde Wyman, our good neighbour, took
his little sister and me ('me' is correct in this case) with him in his
new little coupe for a Spring drive out to see the new construction of
the airport. The drive was most enjoyable till we got stuck in deep mud
to the axles! Clyde soon had a circle of friends around the scene
and by some effort "got us out of the stuck" --as we little girls later
described the scenario.
And I mustn't forget
to mention a special gentleman, a Mr LeCain, who drove a nice car,
a 1930s model, and his car would go by, heading toward town, as I would
be on my way down to the Sand Beach School. Mr LeCain never failed to tip
his hat to me each and every time! That's how I learned a little
more about refinement and respect for others, making no distinction.
I felt honored by him. One time he gave me a ride part of the way home
from school on a very cold February day. "Did you get any Valentines
today" he asked.
marie Entry Date: 5/29/2009 Comments: From 1934 to
May 1941 our family lived in the lovely Horton house in Sand Beach, and
now I want to relate a few memories of neighbours we had at that time.
I've already mentioned the friendly Cosman family next door.
Down from them was Tracy Goodwin and his wife who was a Knowles.
They had a lovely family of hard working truckers, mostly of coal in those
days, and it was Tracy with his big truck who moved our family belongings
to Dartmouth when my father was transferred there by Canada Customs in
1941. My mother and Mrs Goodwin and I decided to walk to make more room
in the car for my siblings.As we climbed Silver's Hill to the lone farm
house at the top, Mrs Goodwin kept repeating with every breathless step,
"Last place on earth, Mrs Doucette, last place on earth!" In Sand
Beach, her youngest son Carl was my brother's best friend.
Straight across the road
from the Horton house, was Mr MacKenzie's little store. When he was not
there it was Kathleen Wyman behind the counter. Mr MacKenzie
was a Boy Scout Master and was often seen in full Scout uniform with the
large brimmed felt hat. Mr macKenzie had a Scottie dog named Angus.
He also drove a Beach Wagon, and it was the prettiest station wagon I ever
saw. Its sides were panelled with beautiful light grain wood. [The only
other similar vehicle I've heard of would be the truck owned by a Mr d'Entremont,
and the picture reminds me of Mr MacKenzie's beach wagon. He used that
for transporting his supplies.
Down from Mr MacKenzie were the Rogers ladies, Mae and Winnie, and they sold lovely candies they made themselves. They had a wide variety of flavors of taffy kisses and some made into longer sticks and canes. They made a reddish cocoanut chewy log called a hunkadory, and then a flat white candy with yellow blob on top called a fried egg, and those were creamy and delicious. There were others but those mentioned were the favorites in the neighbourhood. At Christams time our family received one of their pound boxes of "ends" of candy and those were as yummy as the more perfect renderings of the original stock. The Purney family lived next door and every fall at Halloween they gave us children a box filled with beautiful chestnuts! Oh,the games we made up with these treasures! The Sand Beach school teacher boarded with the Purneys or with the Rogers, both beautiful large homes. The teachers there in
our time were a Miss Clarke who was succeeded by Mr Lawrence Doucette from
Quinan, and he had a large family of his own. He travelled by motorcycle
and went home to his family on weekends.
Various peddlars came
around, some with apples, others with fish and meat, and yet others with
a great variety of goods, such as Watkins or Raleigh products so well known
all over the place, but Sand Beach has many more stories of back then when
there was no pavement anywhere and where the Beach was a favorite summer
attraction and the harbour and Bunker Island and Cape Forchu with the beautiful
old light house where many went for a picnic. i remember the nasty experience
I had on Bunker island with a group from school, when I was stunned after
being bunted by a ram! I learned something new that day!
Thank you again Marie... G.J.LeBlanc When I was a little girl living in Sand Beach in the 1930s that beach down there where the roses line the lane almost to the water's edge, there were banks of white sand! tons and tons of it, but it's been cleaned out to the rocky bottom! Ages and ages created that sand and put it there and many went there every day all summer to play on the beach. Seaweed was not up on the shore as it is now. Only when the tide went out did we get to walk on the seaweed and see some of the rocky bottom. There were treasures in those days coming from a long and glorious-- and always tragic -- history of fishermen, sailors merchants and the sea. There is a haunting tale of a woman who lost her husband at sea and when the tide went out she would go to the beach and walk out as far as she could, in her nightgown, and call her husband through the fog and mist and with the foghorn blowing, it was even more eerie. Police had to rescue her when neighbours would report her out there. She had practically lost her mind over his disappearance at sea and in her sleep she would sleepwalk to the beach and go way out and call him at low tide. This was the REAL woman, not a "ghost". There was no ghost to it, unless it would be her husband calling back from the deep--who knows, but I never heard of any. This poor woman never got over her terrible loss and ended up in someone's care. So tragic and sad! (If I remember right, her name was Scovil, but it's a long time ago, but that name always stuck in my mind after hearing older people telling about Mrs Scovill being rescued from the flats at low tide down at Sand Beach.) That story always stayed with me because it's so tragic and sad. Marie I was amazed to find a picture of the old house I used to pass by twice a day in the 1930s when walking to and from Sand Beach to St Ambrose Convent school and church. It was on the right going up toward the golf links on our way to school. Because I was quite new there and hadn't walked up that way before without a grown-up, as soon as we started school the neighbour children told us that a Mrs. Scott was living there and that children had to be on their very best behaviour when passing by that house. The rule was that one must look quickly if one wanted to see it, but not stop and stare at it, just glance that way while walking past the property, because "Mrs. Scott" lived there and she could see us going by. They said she would not bother us if we were moving on, but if we stopped it was hard to tell what might happen. That for me was exciting and scary at the same time. Some children exaggerated saying the house was spooky, and it might well have been so. That's the kind of story older children told us little ones about that very same house as you have pictured on your website! i was so amazed to see it that I was almost trembling looking at it, this old 1930s house! Here it was on my computer seven or eight decades later! (to continue:) --So whenever we came close to that house, we almost held our breath until we were past it. We looked briefly , and way up at it, as we wondered silently, and kept on going toward home. Always we children kept that place of "Mrs. Scott's" in awe and her too, although we never saw her. But we were certain that she was watching us through her lacy window curtains, any time we walked past her house. The house looked different from any other we were familiar with. It was not like a box but rather reminded me of a castle or what had once been a palace. It was gray or unpainted in those days and tall weeds or grasses grew all around the house, back and front. and on both sides of the many steps that mounted to her front door. When I was a few years older I believed it had been the home of a seaman because there was a "widow's walk" where his wife could climb the turret to watch over the horizon and the ocean. This website gives me for the first time in my nearly eight decades of life some facts about that mysterious residence. So it was an Inn, yes, i believe it. And also we were told that Mrs. Scott at night would go up into the widow's walk and watch the harbour and she could see sailing vessels way out far in the distance. Sand Beach children had amazing imaginations and they loved to tell yarns to us littler ones! Such delightful and sometimes scary dreams and memories they gave us! Their parents must have read them many wonderful books when they were little to instill in them such imaginations and fantastic little stories! Such memories! Thank you! Marie
Why does it seem to me almost a violation for me now --a once timid child passing the Scott house so often-- to have now invaded the privacy of that dear widow who had been so reserved during the years we children were passing by, looking but not daring to stop to greet her, and to bring her mayflowers? Nevertheless, this great lady is speaking to us now, opening up some of her family history for us and giving us a real tour of her mansion there at 7 Main Street! May she rest in peace. Marie
Comments: Thanks to Steven Stewart for his kind words and for reminding me of Freddie Burke (Bourque) and Leonard Cottreau whom I also remember from years gone by. I didn't know the Moore family but do remember Ken and Jane Poole who lived about three houses down from us. Leonard Cottreau and I were cousins of some degree --if he was related to Emma and Lena. My father worked in Customs in Yarmouth so whenever relatives in the States sent huge white canvas commercial laundry bags solidly filled with wonderful clothing of every size and description, also sundry trinkets tossed in as fillers, these came addressed in care of my father, and he saw that Mamma and our designated cousins received their long-awaited treasures! Large families and very little money was the norm, but some did have a camera which would be used only on very special occasions, first Communion, last day of school and so on. Freddie Burke used to come up from way down the road to walk to catechism lessons with us on Sunday afternoons up at St Ambrose. He was a very kind and gentle and humorous young man in his early teens, much taller than my brother and me, so I really looked up to him. One wet day while walking up toward town on the dirt road, I spotted a leather wallet in a shallow puddle and mentioned it to Freddie. I was seven or eight then, the wallet was soaked and I didn't want to get dirt on my hands. Freddie asked me if he could pick it up and I said yes, and if he could have it, and I said yes, and if he could have anything that might be in it, and since I liked him so much I said yes, so he opened it and exclaimed ONE DOLLAR! And I was glad he found a dollar inside because he was so thoughtful to have asked me first. There was nothing but respect from him for everybody. He was so friendly and kind to my brother and me, and he had a much longer distance to walk than we had, to and from church, so i wanted him to have it. Finally, those bundles of high quality clothing that were sent "Down East" from "the States", I have leaned since, came not only to Sand Beach, not only to Wedgeport and other Yarmouth county villages, but also to all parts of the Maritime Provinces from relatives working "Across". Later, when I went over to work for five years, one aunt said to me,
'Now it's your turn to wrap and tie parcels and pay the postage, and was
I ever grateful for the honor of following in the footsteps of these hard
working relatives in the "Boston States".
Thank You Marie |
