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Part 4 of Diary of Johnny Moon
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THE DIARY OF JOHNNY MOON PART 4; WORK FOUND IN TORONTO, BACK NORTH, TO BRACEBRIDGE, MUSKOKA
LOOKING FOR A DECENT LIFE BUT UNSURE WHAT THAT WOULD EVENTUALLY REPRESENT
NOTE: IF YOU MISSED THE PREVIOUS THREE CHAPTERS, OF THE "DIARY OF JOHNNY MOON," YOU CAN ARCHIVE BACK TO THE BEGINNING. IT'S IMPORTANT TO NOTE, THAT THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT IS OWNED BY THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, AND IS SECURE IN THEIR ARCHIVE COLLECTION. IT WAS FOUND IN THE RUBBLE OF JOHNNY MOON'S HUMBLE RESIDENCE, ON PROPERTY ABUTTING RIVER ROAD, ON THE NORTH BRANCH OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER, AND THOSE WHO MADE THE DISCOVERY, TURNED IT OVER TO THE TOWN FOR SAFE-KEEPING. IT IS ONE OF MUSKOKA'S FINEST EXAMPLES OF FOLK HISTORY IN THIS REGION OF ONTARIO.
WHEN WE WORK ON RESEARCH PROJECTS, WE NEVER STOP LOOKING FOR NEW INFORMATION, TO ADD TO THE EDITORIAL CONTENT. OFTEN, WE FINISH THE ASSIGNMENT, BUT FIND MORE INFORMATION, POKING-UP FROM GROUND WE'VE ALREADY PLOWED, SO TO SPEAK. WE ALSO PUBLISH ANY LATER FINDINGS; AND EVEN THEN UNTIL THERE IS NO MORE FORTHCOMING. WE ANY NEW MATERIAL AS SOON AS WE GET IT, SO THAT IT BECOMES A PART OF THE RECORD WITHOUT DELAY. IN THE CASE OF JOHNNY MOON, WE WILL NEVER DROP THE FILE, OR CONSIDER IT COMPLETE, UNTIL WE RECOVER AS MUCH INFORMATION AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE, USING ALL THE RESOURCES WE HAVE ACCESS TO, AT PRESENT. THE INFORMATION PUBLISHED BELOW, WAS GATHERED AS THIS PROJECT WAS WELL UNDERWAY, WHICH ADDS AN INTERESTING ACTUALITY TO THE PROJECT. SO HERE ARE A FEW UPDATES WE'VE INCLUDED, SO THAT YOU CAN SEE FOR YOURSELF, HOW HISTORICAL INACCURACIES CREATE OBSTACLES, FOR THOSE WHO ARE WRITING A SENSIBLY PROPORTIONED BIOGRAPHY.
LAST EVENING, MY RESEARCH ASSISTANT, SUZANNE, TOOK US BOTH ON A TRIP BACK INTO JOHNNY MOON'S PAST. SHE IS A SUBSCRIBER TO "ANCESTRY.CA", A GENEOLOGY SERVICE WE REQUIRE, FOR THE MANY HERITAGE PROJECTS, WE GET-UP-TO THESE DAYS. WE WERE ABLE TO FIND CENSUS DOCUMENTS FROM THE LATE 1800'S, TO LEARN MORE ABOUT JOHNNY MOON'S PARENTS. HIS FATHER, ACCORDING TO THE 1881 CENSUS, WAS LISTED AS HAVING BEEN BORN IN 1844, IN CALSTOCK CORNWALL. HE WAS A WIDOWER IN 1881, WITH FOUR CHILDREN, INCLUDING ANNIE, AGE 15, JAMES, AGE 13, ELIZABETH, AGE 10 AND FRED AGE 4, HAVING BEEN BORN IN 1877. JAMES MOON WAS A "PRINTER COMPOSITOR" BY TRADE. IN 1882, THE WIDOWER, JAMES MOON, MARRIED JOHNNY'S MOTHER, MARY JANE BOLHAM, AGE 28, IN BETHNAL GREEN, MIDDLESEX, WHO WAS LISTED AS BEING A MACHINIST BY TRADE. THEIR SON, JOHNNY, WAS BORN ON THE 31ST OF AUGUST, 1882, BY HIS OWN RECKONING, BUT IF YOU WERE TO BELIEVE THE BERNARDO HOMES LIST OF ORPHANS, SENT TO CANADA ABOARD THE STEAMSHIP "LABRADOR," WHICH SET SAIL ON THE SECOND OF OCTOBER, 1897, THE MANIFEST CLEARLY INDICATES, OF THE "BERNARDO PARTY," THAT THE YOUNGSTER WAS ONLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD AT THE TIME. THIS MEANS HE COULDN'T HAVE BEEN BORN IN 1882, AS HE DECLARES IN HIS JOURNAL, BUT INSTEAD, IN 1886. IT IS MOST LIKELY THE BERNARDO REGISTRATION IS ACCURATE, AS IT CAME DIRECTLY FROM FAMILY, WHEN HE WAS SURRENDERED BY HIS STEP-BROTHER FRED, TO THE BRITISH ORPHANAGE. WHAT IT MEANS, IS THAT JOHNNY MOON ARRIVED AT A CANADIAN FARMSTEAD, AS A LABOURER, WHEN HE WAS ONLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD. IT WOULD APPEAR, JOHNNY MOON MISREPRESENTED HIS AGE MANY TIMES, TO APPEAR OLDER THAN HE ACTUALLY WAS; THIS HOLDING TRUE, WHEN HE SOUGHT EMPLOYMENT ON CATTLE-BOATS, CROSSING TO AND FROM ENGLAND. YESTERDAY, FOR EXAMPLE, WE LOOKED AT HIS GRUELING HIKE FROM KINGSTON TO TORONTO, OVER NUMEROUS DAYS, AND GETTING BEAT-UP ALONG THE WAY. HE WAS STILL A CHILD, WANDERING THROUGH THE CANADIAN HINTERLAND, AND WAS OBVIOUSLY A TOUGH LITTLE FELLOW, TO HAVE SURVIVED HIS TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS.
HIS MOTHER DIED IN 1891, AFTER A RECURRING ILLNESS, AND HIS FATHER DIED TRAGICALLY, THE RESULT OF AN ACCIDENT, COMING HOME FROM HIS WORK PLACE, AS A PRINTER, AND WAS BURIED ON CHRISTMAS EVE, 1896, IN PAULTON SOMERSET, ENGLAND. JOHNNY MOON HAD EVERY RIGHT TO POSSESS SOME ATTITUDE ISSUES, AFTER SUCH A TRAGIC EARLY LIFE; HAVING RECEIVED A SERIOUS CONCUSSION IN A SCHOOL-YARD MISHAP, AND LOSING BOTH HIS PARENTS BY ELEVEN YEARS OF AGE. THEN BEING FOBBED-OFF, BECAUSE THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED, BY AUTHORITY OF HIS OLDER STEP-BROTHER, FRED, AT THE BARNARDO ORPHANAGE. FEELING UNWANTED, AND DISRUPTED FROM HAVING A CHILDHOOD, LIKE SOME OF HIS YOUNG MATES, HE WAS SENT TO CANADA AS A FARM LABOURER. MAKES THE HISTORIAN MAD! HOW ABOUT YOU?
THE BIOGRAPHY OF JOHNNY MOON ISN'T A WORK OF FICTION, ALTHOUGH IT WOULD MAKE A HELL OF A MOVIE SCRIPT. THE TRAGEDY HERE, IS THAT MANY OTHER CHILDREN, ARRIVING IN THE COLONY, AS ORPHANS, ON RIGOROUS WORK-DETAILS, WOUND UP IN SIMILARLY ADVERSE CONDITIONS, AND HAD TO FACE UNCERTAIN FUTURES, IN THE HARSH ENVIRONS OF EARLY CANADIAN FARMS; AND AS DOMESTICS, AND NANNIES, FOR SOME CRUEL AND UNPLEASANT FAMILIES. MY OWN GRANDMOTHER, ON MY FATHER'S SIDE, WAS A BARNARDO CHILD, SENT TO CANADA AT THE AGE OF 14, TO WORK AS A MAID, IN A MINISTER'S HOUSE, IN DUNDAS-TOWN NEAR TORONTO, CIRCA 1921. HER NAME THEN, WAS DORIS HARDING. SO IN MANY WAYS, I DO RELATE TO THE STORY OF JOHNNY MOON, HIS TRIUMPHS AND HIS TRAGEDIES, WHICH WERE MANY. THE DIFFERENCE? MY GRANDMOTHER WOULD NEVER ADMIT TO HAVING BEEN A BARNARDO CHILD, SOMETHING WE FOUND OUT BY SLEUTHING THROUGH THE ORPHANAGE ARCHIVES, FOLLOWING HER DEATH. THUS, WHATEVER HER EXPERIENCES THEN, WERE TAKEN TO HER GRAVE. MY FATHER ALLUDED TO THE FACT, BEFORE HIS OWN DEATH, THAT SHE HAD BEEN VERY COMPROMISED BY THE EXPERIENCE OF WORKING AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE, AFTER HAVING COME FROM A WELL-OFF FAMILY, UNFORTUNATELY STRICKEN WITH DEATH BEFORE HER MID-TEENS. SHE HAD BEEN LIVING WITH HER GRANDFATHER, AFTER THE DEMISE OF HER OWN PARENTS, AND IT WAS WHEN HE PASSED AWAY, THAT SHE FOUND HERSELF AT THE BARNARDO HOME IN LONDON, WITH A FATE SIMILAR TO JOHNNY MOON, AND HAVING NO CHOICE ABOUT BEING SENT ABROAD, AS FORCED LABOUR IN CANADA. I GRIT MY TEETH EVERY TIME I STOP TO THINK ABOUT THE CRUELTY TO SUCH RECENTLY BEREAVED CHILDREN, BEING TAKEN AWAY FROM THEIR COUNTRY OF ORIGIN, SOME WITH THE GRAVES OF THEIR FAMILY MEMBERS NOT YET GROWN-OVER. IMAGINE IF YOU CAN, THE TERRIBLE WEIGHT OF HOMESICKNESS THEY MUST HAVE FELT, WATCHING AS THE ENGLISH SHORELINE DISAPPEARED, AS THE STEAMSHIPS HEADED OUT TO SEA.
IN TORONTO, AND EXPLORING THE POSSIBILITIES OF A NEW LIFE, AND RESIDENCY IN MUSKOKA
Having arrived in the City of Toronto, foot-sore and exhausted, walking all the way from Kingston, Johnny Moon wasted little time trying to seek work, as his finances were desperately low, and he had no accommodation. He hadn't been able to afford train transportation from Quebec to Toronto, because he had been so modestly endowed by his previous employment. He depended on the kindness of strangers, and was often provided meals and some financial assistance along the way to the city, of which he had once been a resident, at the Barnardo Home several years earlier. Imagine this little chap, showing up at your front door, dirty, wearing tattered clothing, shoes that were falling apart, with a genuine appearance of malnourishment? His was not a swindle, by looking worse off than he actually was! He earned every scar, and the sunken eyes and soot smears on his forehead, were hard earned, as were the sores on the bottoms of his feet, where jagged stones had ripped into the flesh of his soles. He had landed on this shore, when he was only eleven years old, and a long, long way from home and family. It can be said with some accuracy, that he gained his scars early in life, and learned his lessons, as would an adult, before he hit his middle teens.
When in Toronto, for the second time in his young life, he wandered that day, to the area of Toronto known as Swansea, near the Humber River, and applied for a job at nearby Toronto Bolt Works, and was immediately hired. He was to start the next morning. As he had discovered many times in the past, he could seek temporary shelter at a police station, and get a nice dinner and breakfast as well. So he was able to find a station on Yonge Street, and the constables found a cot for him to sleep on overnight.
The next morning, he travelled back up to the Toronto Bolt Works, and began his labours on their behalf. He met a lad named Albert Mallyon, who brought him to his parents' home, as a temporary "paying" lodger. This residence was situated on Edwin Avenue, at the Toronto Junction. He had to walk three miles one way, in order to get to the Bolt plant; six miles over the course of a day.
It was in the year 1901, that Johnny Moon went to the Canadian National Exhibition. While in Toronto, he saw the train carrying the royals, "then known by the title of Duke, and Dutchess of York," when they ended their world tour in the city. "I watched the royal train pass the Diamond Crossing, just a short distance north of the Junction; I think it was the next day, the celebration and parades went to the Exhibition grounds." The passage was included in his diary, along with the explanation that, when he wrote the diary out, in June of 1934, the Duke and Dutchess, he had seen in the rail car, were then, in that decade, the King and Queen of the British Empire.
"I stayed at Mallyon's till the following spring; and then on account of trouble, I left, and went by train to Bracebridge, thinking to try my luck in Muskoka," he writes, but not explaining what "trouble," meant under the circumstances. This had happened previously, each time feeling it was important to make the inclusion, as a it related to his life's story, but never defining if it had been the result of theft, or some type of emotional, physical or sexual abuse. It must have been shattering to him, to have these events occur, which always seemed to change his plans, and shift him from one locale to the other. It would continue happening for many years to come, which suggests somewhat, that he may have been the instigator of at least some of these troublesome circumstances that prevailed.
(In Bracebridge) "I stayed a day or so at a Free Methodist minister's house, up on Hunt's Hill, overlooking the falls, the Woollen Mill, and the old lower bridge. His church stood next to his residence. It stands there yet, but is now kept as a kind of storehouse. It must have been about the same time of year as this (early part of June), in the year 1902. I could not get anything to do around there, so I returned by train to Toronto. There I began to board with an Irish family by name of Crilly, living in a cottage in High Park. Mr. Crilly was one of the Park attendants. I returned to the Bolt Works. Early in July, a hurricane passed over the city doing some damage," wrote Johnny Moon, in his later day retrospective. Of the great weather event, the young voyeur wrote the following:
"On the afternoon of Saturday, the 26th of July, I had returned from work. The air was sultry, with signs of an approaching storm. Some visitors were at Crilly's that day. At about three o'clock, a heavy, violent thunderstorm came on, the worst I have ever known. At 3 p.m. it was as black as night. There was flash after flash of fork and chain lightning, and the rattle and crash of thunder was continuous. When the worst of the storm had apparently passed over, I went into my little room, and looked out of the one small window, kneeling upon the head of the bed (most likely an iron headboard). The window had no glass, but a wire mesh mosquito screen upon it. Suddenly I got a terrific shock and then I must have fallen sideways across the bed, with my head jammed against the wall. I had come within a hair's breadth of death. I was only partly conscious; the sensation was awful. Recovering slowly, I began to realize what had happened to me. I could not move. I made attempts to call out, but could utter no sound, not even a whisper. The pain of the shock had not passed, but I was completely helpless. Strength gradually returning, first to my arms, I pushed myself off the bed, thinking I might be able to stand, but I only fell to the floor.
"Recovering my voice by degrees, I called the others, and after awhile, two of them, one boy of the family, came in. The boy was crying. I understood him to say, 'Mother is killed,' but I was still somewhat dazed, and unable to yet fully grasp the meaning of what he was saying. They helped me to my feet and got me placed upon the bed, where I sat down weakly. I began to realize that something was seriously wrong, in the other part of the house. Finally, becoming able to stand, I got to my feet, and staggered into the sitting room (sitting down upon the nearest chair that was handy). Then I learnt what had happened. Mrs. Crilly was dead; killed by a bolt of lightning. The bolt which had struck her, had come through the chimney, scattering the bricks onto the roof, and bursting through a paper covered stovepipe hole, had hit her where she lay upon a lounge (likely with metal springs) just beneath it. Crossing the room, from where it had caught Mr. Crilly, who was standing by the front door, and taking him by the legs, had thrown him flat on his back, stunning him into helplessness. It had passed out by the open door and scattered the poles which comprised the dog's kennel, at the same time killing the dog. Then it had turned sharply to the left, and taken a big piece out of a clothes-line post. That event broke up the family; also making it necessary for me to get another boarding place." (recorded by Johnny Moon in his journal)
Shortly thereafter, he found temporary lodgings with an Irish family near Dundas Street. Johnny claimed, in his diary, that the couple were not easy to get along with. It also marked the period, where his interest in re-locating back to Muskoka, accelerated, and he reports having made two serious attempts to walk back to Bracebridge, from Toronto, failing both times to cover the distance successfully, before having to retreat. No reasons were given for his failures. He gave up on getting along with the Irish landlords, and moved in with a Scottish family, on Dundas Street, by the name of McBride. The job market had changed, and he was no longer with Toronto Bolt, and instead, got some night work with Canada Foundry. He hated the position, and managed to be re-hired at Toronto Bolt, where he had some machinery experience, and knew the physical rigors of the job on his slight body.
One of Johnny Moon's most profound statements, that may explain some of his future difficulties, is summed up in the entry, which begins, "Since the (lightning) shock I got the previous summer, city life was wracking my nerves. It seemed certain that unless I got into the country, I was due for a complete breakdown. Muskoka, I reasoned, was the logical place for me."
He had no prospects in Muskoka. But he took the train north, from Union Station, and one of the most poignant sightings he had, upon leaving the city, was passing the McBride house, where had just left; and seeing Mrs. McBride out on the porch, watching as the passenger cars rolled down the ribbon rails. He doesn't claim to have waved to her, but he saw fit to include it in his brief biography; much as if it was important, and that he had been treated respectfully, while living with her family.
When he arrived at the Bracebridge Train Station, a modest hike, to the property where he would eventually live, he wandered back to the hamlet of Monsell, where he had once been employed at the Stonehouse Farm, sleeping on this night in a cluster of trees at the side of the road. He knew that where he had hunkered down, was very close to the farm that had belonged to Sam Taylor, at least, when he had been a resident of this rural area, as a Barnardo boy on placement. The following day, while wandering the road, he met up with James Stonehouse, who was, at that time, living in the former home owned by Jonathon Leeder. As fortune would have it, someone in the rural clime may have tipped-off a local constable, thinking a thief was working the area, and Johnny Moon was subsequently arrested by Chief McConnell, for vagrancy. It was rumored that Ernest Kirk had been the gentleman, who had advised the police of a suspicious character "lurking about." On the way to the lock-up, with Chief McConnell, they ran into James Stonehouse, who spoke on Johnny Moon's behalf, but it didn't sway the police chief, who took him directly to the jail facility, and turned the key on the teenage traveller.
When he was later taken to the courthouse, James Stonehouse was in attendance, and Judge Spencer, listening to the evidence presented, and the testimonial offered by Mr. Stonehouse, dropped the charges of vagrancy, and set the prisoner free. A terrible re-introduction to his new life in Bracebridge.
"The next day I walked out to William Stonehouse's farm, at Fraserburg," penned Johnny Moon, into the pages of his biography. "Will Stonehouse's former wife, who was one of Jonathon Leeder's daughters, had died a year or so previously. Will had married again, to one of the Harrison girls. George Stonehouse was married to a daughter of Taylor's, and lived on the old homestead, where the post-office was. Old Mrs. Stonehouse, his mother, was living in a house of her own, on Will's farm. Charley Whitfield had gone away sometime in 1900, to a place in Southern, Ontario, about three years before. I worked for Will that fall, and the winter following, until the spring of 1904. I left Will's place then, and lived a short time in a vacant house that stood upon an unused farm owned by a person, whose name I have forgotten. Later on that summer, I stayed in a shack at the one corner of the Post farm, and close by a sharp bend in the river." He remembered this place most, not because of its creature comforts afforded the tenant, but the fact a swamp-land at the rear of the property, generated a large population of mosquitoes, making his spring-time stay unbearable.
Johnny moved to another residence, in the neighborhood, boarding with Mrs. Cameron and her two small boys, known as Bobbie and Jimmie. He moved to the farm home owned by Bill Stonehouse again, in the late summer, and then a short period of residency with John Crockford, halfway by sleigh, between Purbrook and Fraserburg. There was an orphan boy living with them, by the poetic name, Walter Scott, minus the "Sir." Their own children were named John and Carlton.
He notes with simple reference, but no details, that "this time was the deer hunting season, the first half of November 18." Then there is the add-on to this entry, reading, "Purbrook, December, 1904, Fred Hungerford." It's printed in capital letters.
He writes later, "From there I went to work for Robert Crockford (brother of John) at Purbrook. This place is about three miles south of Fraserburg. It was there I got to know Fred Hungerford. I took a strong liking for him. Fred was a Barnardo Boy, who was staying with the Colson's about two miles from Purbrook." John Crockford, at the time, operated a post office in Purbrook, and it was directly across the road from Bob Crockford's house. The Colson family, was related to Bob Crockford's wife, and got their mail in Purbrook. "Fred used to come to Purbrook for the Colson's mail, three times a wek, and I occasionally saw him there," writes the young Johnny Moon. It was soon the case however, that Fred Hungerford was sent to another farm situation, in Southern Ontario, and Johnny notes in his diary, "His going away was a hard blow to me, and I was very miserable for some time after he left."
He also found another Barnardo Boy in the area, by the name of Fred Saxton. He was a bigger boy than his other mate, at the Crockford Farm, who was fourteen while living in the neighborhood. Johnny was on the move again, this time residing in another abandoned farm house, located between the hamlets of Purbrook, and Fraserburg. He did wind-up back at the farm operated by Will Stonehouse, during the time another little boy was in the house, named Bob Lawler. In late October of 1906, Johnny was asked to leave the farm, and left, but first travelling to John Crockford's place at Purbrook, just to return a copy of a book he had borrowed previously; the title being, "King Solomon's Mines," by Rider Haggard. Disillusioned about his life, and future, he trudged on through the countryside, considering a walk back to Toronto, where he knew he could find employment again, possibly at Toronto Bolt, where he had some history.
With spirits low, and "a seemingly hopeless prospect ahead of me, I trudged on the way to Uffington, and thought of Fred Hungerford, who had left a year and a half before; also to a lesser degree, the younger John Crockford family, who had gone to Thessalon, Algoma, in the fall of 1905, and whose cattle I had helped to drive, to the railway yard, at Bracebridge Station. What prospects lay ahead of me now. Small wonder that I was almost in despair, and utterly dejected. I trudged along through Uffington and reached Reay (Township) that evening; a short distance from which place, I laid down upon the roadside, and slept the best I could that night. The next morning I started on again toward Gravenhurst, which was not far off. But as I neared that town, a young fellow driving a milk rig, stopped and got me to go with him, to his people's place, just as short distance along a side road. These people, whose name I have forgotten, were of German descent; the mother having come from that country; the father was not now living. There was another branch of the family in that vicinity." He reports that he didn't care for the place nor the owners of the property, being as he said, "hard to endure." He got the itch to wander onward, shortly after arriving, and with little money, and feeling desperate for self improvement, he began the march back to Toronto once more. He managed to get to Orillia, and secured enough money to afford a train ride the rest of the distance to Toronto. Johnny Moon looked very much like a beggar, by the tatters of his attire, and personal grooming, and the fact he would hang around train stations, and inevitably, find a kind soul willing to finance a lunch or dinner; or a few coins donated to him, for train passage. There is no indication he ever begged for money in these circumstances, and the fact he walked hundreds of miles, and would only eat plain biscuits and white bread, on the road, would attest to the fact he didn't wish to appear in the light of a Dickensian character, out of, for example the story of Oliver Twist; which he had known in his days at school. If someone was to give him food, he would thank them. But he would do without, rather than beg for assistance. He was a proud little chap, and that's what people came to admire of the character that was "Johnny Moon"!
As was his unsettled nature and emotional state, he no sooner arrived in Toronto, and failing to get employment first off, he decided quickly, his place was not the city under any circumstance. Without any money, he decided to hike the one hundred and twenty miles back to Bracebridge. In his words, he explains, "I bought some soda biscuits in a store near Sunnyside (in Toronto), and then began the long walk back to Muskoka. From Sunnyside I went over the old trail I used to walk to and from work, to Toronto Junction, and from the little Davenport flag station, walked northward by the railway track. There began a tramp that may best be described as a nightmare. On no other of my many walks had I endured such misery. Cold weather and wet; sore feet, nothing but white bread to eat, nothing but cold water to drink, cold, practically sleepless nights. A week of this I endured before I reached Gravenhurst. Just north of Severn (hamlet of Severn Bridge), I slept by the road-bed, with my old overcoat pulled around my ears for warmth. There was a hard frost that night. My overcoat, green with age, was coated with frost the next morning. Reaching Gravenhurst the next night, I slept in the waiting room of the station there."
Weak from travels, "I staggered back to the farm I had previously left, but the people there were mean and stingy, and very hard to get along with; much was expected and little given," according to Johnny Moon's journal.
He decided that he would head back north to Bracebridge. It was, by this point, the late days of November, 1906. He knew the winter was moving in, and he would have to find suitable shelter, at least for the coming five to six months of cold and snowy weather. I think one of the saddest stories told by Johnny Moon, comes in the poignant text of the following explanation of his ongoing hardships. Still a young man, his life, as his overcoat, is in tatters.
"Early one morning, (at the Gravenhurst farmstead owned by the German family) I quietly walked away. There was some snow upon the ground. (This did not work to Johnny's advantage, as they followed his trail) I was walking down the side road to the railway track, and had just reached it, when the youngest of the fellows of that family, came running after me and tried to stop me going any further, but not succeeding; he went back for help. I went northward along the track, for about a mile, then that fellow with two others, who had come along by a short cut that they knew of, stopped me and took me back to their place. I happened to be wearing a new pair of rubbers they had given me, in place of an old worn out pair I had been wearing. These they took from me, and gave me my old ones. Then they let me go. This time I travelled by the road, and arrived in Bracebridge late that afternoon. December 1906." Winter had arrived. Johnny Moon had no place to stay, and spent the first hours, after arrival, huddling in the hall of the courthouse, on Dominion Street, where his fortunes were about to change for the better; at least for awhile, thanks to some prominent Bracebridge citizens, who came to his assistance.
Please join me again tomorrow, for another glimpse back, at the life and times of Bernardo Boy, Johnny Moon. Thanks so much for visiting with me today. Isn't this a fascinating story? It gets even better!
What a treasure of folk history. I hope the spirit of Johnny Moon, that may still dwell in the hollow of the North Branch of the Muskoka River, will be pleased, to have his story rekindled, as there are many lessons to be learned about humanity and kindnesses bestowed. More tomorrow, in Part Five.
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