Washington Irving, A Man Worth Knowing For All Of Bracebridge; 150th Anniversary; Naming of Gravenhurst 152 Years Ago

4 inch by 6 inch original painting on wood panel, artist's signature on the bottom left, found in Orillia on the weekend. Research under way.

Muskoka or Algonquin scene painted by Tom Low in 1929. This great watercolour was found at a sale in Bracebridge.

THE NEW AGE BRANDING HAS A LOT TO DO WITH INSECURITIES - WHAT IS OLD CAN BE NEW AGAIN!

THOSE WHO WANT TO CHANGE AN IDENTITY, MUST HAVE BEEN ASLEEP DURING HISTORY CLASS

      I suppose, like many times in recent history, there will be certain individuals, in Bracebridge, who will brand me a heretic for suggesting their recent branding exercise, several years ago, was a waste of time, money, and the patience of the good citizens; but I've become used to being branded myself. "The historian who keeps putting his oar in where it doesn't belong!" I get it! Doesn't bother me, after all these years. But it's true. When I'm right, I go to what ever lengths are necessary, to imprint my point. My point here, and for this entire week, is that Author, Washington Irving, has a place in Bracebridge's future. He certainly hasn't enjoyed a place of honor for the first 150 years of the association. I know why!
      If town governance, had felt it had some redeeming qualities, it would have adopted and developed the long overdue relationship, back in the late 1990's, when I first wrote a lengthy series on the subject for the Bracebridge Examiner. Then came a book on the provenance of the author, his legendary book, and with the Ontario town that shares a popular name. It was received like a "limp cod" handshake. Those in positions of authority then, saw it as foreign and ridiculous, and there wasn't one councillor who would take even five minutes to hear my pitch. Well, it wasn't a pitch, as such, because there was nothing to sell. I was just handing them back what they already owned as a municipality. I didn't suggest it, or invent the idea. All I did was expose how the naming came about, back in August of 1864. It was as if they all believed, I was trying to sell them on some gimmick branding, that I believe now, they didn't feel the town needed to be an economic going-concern.
     This was 2000. A decade later, when branding was a much bigger deal, (as other communities were re-making themselves based on government funds to do so), they all of a sudden decided Bracebridge needed a little boost for the future as well. Something everyone would remember about the community, when they returned to their place of origin, after a Muskoka retreat. Why not adopt something everyone will remember, beyond the "pleasant visit" thing? What actually served the community, for well over a century, was no longer adequate. It used to be that "Muskoka" was the end-all; all visitors needed to remember, in order to consider Bracebridge, the enchanted little town having a bonus lakeland. A quaint hospitable burg to come back to, on the very next holiday! As for the recent branding exercise, they spent lots of money to create, it just seemed like busy-work to me. Even though I responded to the online survey, conducted by the host consulting firm, I know the "Washington Irving" suggestion I submitted, was the only one of its ilk, out of hundreds received. So even the consultants, given rightful provenance, and a branding that would keep on giving, and not cost a cent, rejected the idea without any discussion. Like calling me for example. I could have told them a great story. But how do you bridge an opening gap, like why the town has refused to accept its provenance since 1864. I couldn't explain it, so how were they going to, even if they had sensed some possibilities with this rekindling of sorts?
     I think many of the town council members were asleep through High School history class. I was the one who was paying attention. Well, you know what? It helped me see a different side of history, beyond the text books, and chalkboard lessons. Beyond the drone of a teacher's voice, and the tapping of a pointer on a map pulled down from the ceiling. I slowly began to rebel against the boredom of the classroom, and used my imagination to bring the history lesson to life.
      Suggesting that the town should make use of its provenance, isn't a stretch of commonplace. It should be considered a privilege of "namesake," and utilized as much as possible. It's free. No one has paid me to promote the concept. I still have some books I wrote on the subject, that didn't sell from 2000 to 2014, so it can be said with considerable accuracy, I lost a lot of money, in the bid to sell my hometown on its own legacy. I'm a beggar for punishment. But it can also be said, I was warned it was never going to catch on, before I published the first articles. I just thought that one day, the resistance of some individuals would fade with age. That's yet to be determined. I'm hopeful that 2014 will be a sparkling year for Washington Irving, William Dawson LeSueur and the business community, of the Town of Bracebridge. It's up to them individually, because it is their history to celebrate, whether town politicians wish to pursue it or not. The provenance, you see, didn't come from a consulting firm's recommendation, about what type of branding, was in the town's best interest. What to me, is a fascinating literary connection, actually came as an unexpected honor, awarded thoughtfully by a literary critic, to a struggling hamlet on the Ontario frontier.
     The naming of Bracebridge, is as fascinating and enlightening, as the naming of Gravenhurst, two years earlier. In August 1862, William Dawson LeSueur, the federal postal authority at the time, with a little pizzaz in his good nature, decided that "McCabe's Landing," was an inadequate post office title; which he recognized, would thusly be adopted as an enduring name, by the pioneer settlement itself, on the shore of Lake Muskoka. So, being a literary critic, when he wasn't administering the duties of his postal jurisdiction, he decided instead, to use the title of a book, written by a British poet / philosopher, he happened to like. William Henry Smith's newly released book, "Gravenhurst, or Thoughts on Good and Evil," had been afforded him, with his connection to the national literary society, and national library. At the time, he was well known, as a budding literary critic, who would soon have his reviews widely published in North American, and European literary magazines. This is the pivotal issue. Understanding that the names "Gravenhurst," and then two years later, "Bracebridge," were not happenstance decisions, is the "biggest of big" deals here. Here's why. You can't understand the story, without first knowing, LeSueur didn't take his job lightly, and nothing he did in the professional sense, was without severe self control.
     Where it all started to go wrong! It was noted, by several prominent local historians, many years ago now, that, for example, the name "Bracebridge," was "a book LeSueur had been reading at the time, a request came across his desk, to name a new post office in the District of Muskoka". Wrong! It was assumed, LeSueur had done the same thing two years earlier, in Gravenhurst. It might be assumed, that a copy of Smith's book, "Gravenhurst," wound up on his desk, like Irving's book, in 1864, which just happened to be in front of him, when another name was required in Muskoka. So let's clear up the misconception once and for all. LeSueur knew books well. The reason Smith's book came to his attention, was that it had just been released to the public. As a bookman, in addition to his responsibilities as a postal authority, charged with naming new offices, he had access to those new book releases as a literary critic. It is to be expected, a new edition of Washington Irving's book, "Bracebridge Hall," was brought to his attention, in the same way; not just because he was reading Irving, making it convenient to grab the title for the "North Falls," postal application. "Bracebridge," he thought, was a far more suitable name, than North Falls. I agree. He did the same with Gravenhurst, when he ruled out "McCabe's Landing," as a suitable title for the new post office. The commonplace here, is that both towns, in 1862 and 1864, had their citizen-selected names, refused by LeSueur. He just never explained why! Gosh, if only he had, it would have saved my fingers a massive workout on this keyboard.
     What is critical here, and must be appreciated, is that LeSueur was a serious chap, and was both a revered literary critic, and an up-and-coming Canadian historian, of considerable future accomplishment. If he chose a name from a book, for the title of a new postal facility, he did so as a literary tribute, of the highest order. He wasn't a prankster. In the case of Bracebridge, it was even more significant, because it was a memorial tribute, to one of the best known authors in the world, who had only a few earlier. passed away. If he hadn't approved of the book, and all its literary attributes, he wouldn't have used the name. The same can be said for "Gravenhurst," and the work of William Henry Smith, which he obviously felt was insightful and ground-breaking in contemporary philosophy.
     It hasn't helped, for all these years, to have had the historical references, to the naming protocol honored by LeSuer, known as the lazy-way-out for a postal clerk; and opting for a name from a book that he happened to be reading for recreation on coffee break. This has served to minimize the true honor of naming the new post office, for all the years since. If it had been noted, fifty to a hundred years ago, that LeSueur intended it to be a memorial tribute to Washington Irving, would we now be celebrating the author's work in modern day Bracebridge? I believe we would! If there was any fault attached, other than turning down the name "North Falls," without seeking permission of the citizen applicants, it was that LeSueur didn't write down the reason, he turned down one name in favor of another. Imagine what this would have done for the town, and for the good name of Washington Irving. He was just as negligent with "Gravenhurst," and the town here has similarly refused to have anything to do with Smith's work, which was landmark in so many ways. Using the name, for LeSueur, was showing tremendous respect for Smith's philosophy, which ironically, was all about the tug and pull of "commonplace," in any community. "Gravenhurst; or Thoughts on Good and Evil," is still a popular, well-read book in university studies, and it can be read online through googlebooks, if you happen to have some down time.
      One of the other problems, historians in the past, created for contemporary writers, is that it had been assumed wrongly, for decades, that the name "Gravenhurst," was taken from the Irving book, "Bracebridge Hall." This was the first major stumbling block I had to climb over, rather clumsily, and first of all, I had to buy a copy of the book, and read it cover to cover, to find this reference. It doesn't exist. Never did. When I consulted Washington Irving scholars, to ask whether they knew of any reference to "Gravenhurst," made by Irving, in any of his other works, beyond Bracebridge Hall, their answer was, what I had thought. He didn't! Irving may have travelled through a community in England, known as Gravenhurst, but he never wrote it into any of his books or short stories. Then there was this pressing reality. Why would LeSueur, a highly disciplined civil servant and writer, have extracted a name from the actual text of Bracebridge Hall, in 1862, when the good folks from "McCabe's Landing," were trying to launch their postal outlet? It would have made more sense to have taken the name "Bracebridge" instead, versus looking through the text of the book to find a suitable name. This was an often repeated error by local historians, that I corrected in 2000, another reason my work was considered treasonous. It couldn't be helped. Historians in both towns, had never read "Bracebridge Hall," previously, until I loaned them my copy. This proved beyond doubt that LeSueur took the name from Smith's book, not from anything Washington Irving had penned. Thus, LeSueur borrowed the names as literary tributes, to both fledgling hamlets. I suppose he assumed we'd figure it out one day. Unfortunately, the honors he afforded us, have been protracted for the past 150 years. What a shame. Both writers were highly accomplished, and internationally revered, but the provenance in Smith's case, was missing almost entirely until 1999 (when I wrote about it for the Gravenhurst Banner). It's first mention was in the Centennial publication of "The Light of Other Days," when historian Cecil Porter made light reference to the book "Gravenhurst," by Smith, as another possibility for the post office name. He was right of course. Cecil read "Bracebridge Hall," at my urging, and for once, the historical record had been officially corrected. Gravenhurst was not named as a result of Washington Irving's published work. The historians had simply never read the book to verify this fact, and had repeated the error over and over.
     Two years ago, I wrote a lengthy feature series, on this same blog-site, to shed some light on the naming of "Gravenhurst," with a lengthy profile on William Henry Smith, and his work, in recognition of the 150th anniversary of LeSueur's initial tribute to town and author. (August 1862 - August 2012) We even put together a short video to run with the blog. I did believe it was a matter of protocol to notify the mayor of the Town of Gravenhurst, and one sitting town councillor, that this anniversary was coming. I gave about a month's notice. Council instead, decided to celebrate its 125th year of incorporation, as a town instead, of the 150th anniversary of its naming, with this literary provenance; which some in the literary community would find an exceptional honor.
     On Friday, August 1st, it will be 150 years, since the Town of Bracebridge's official naming, courtesy William Dawson LeSueur. It will only be recognized in this blog, and the several publications I notified, one being "Curious; The Tourist Guide," which I write for monthly. I have sent letters to the editor of the other regional publications, but there are no guarantees they will decide to publish them. So once again, there is no excitement about, what to many of us, who know our literature and heritage, is an exciting connection to the author of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," and "Rip Van Winkle." I don't care how much the municipality spends on branding in the future, or if they wish to commission a statue of Santa Claus, for the main street; nothing will trump the provenance with Washington Irving. One day, a new council, may decide that it is finally time, to stop obstructing, what should be a most welcome part of our heritage, to be enjoyed and exploited, as Dr. LeSueur probably believed would have happened during his lifetime. I'd like to explain a little more about this provenance in the coming days, leading up to the August 1st anniversary.
      When I carry-on, admittedly a little weary now, still making these copious notes, about the Town of Bracebridge, specifically regarding the business community, and the potential advantages of hooking up, on its own, to a rightful, 150 year old provenance, it's not to suggest, my old home town, needs to face-dress what it already possess of historic identity. I like it just the way it is. But when it comes to seeking out "branding" potentials, to facade over what we already possess, excuse me, for getting a little annoyed, especially when Washington Irving misses the cut once again. What I have suggested, however, is that beyond the newly imposed branding, of continuous learning, or possibly in the future, as "Santa's Summer Home," in respect to the long time relationship with "Santa's Village," I truly believe that the citizens, and governance, need to add-onto this, with something they have possessed and owned, but never utilized to their advantage. Obstructing this from occurring, has frankly gone on for far too long. There are Irving historical societies that would love to have a town, with connected literary provenance, to join them for the celebration of the author's love for life, passion for history, and tradition, to assist the ongoing stewardship of his timeless folk tales.
     In tomorrow's blog, I would like to explain a little bit more, about Washington Irving, and why it wasn't an insult in the least, to select the work of an American author, as the new name for a Canadian hamlet, circa 1864. Irving, you see, was a stalwart believer in the preservation of cultural traditions, and it's why he spent so much time in England, researching and writing about its unique qualities; because as he noted, in his time, that Americans, after the Revolutionary War, mistakenly felt it necessary to develop their own traditions. Thusly abandoning much of their British ancestry, for no good reason. Please join me tomorrow, for part two of the "Washington Irving - Bracebridge, Ontario," feature series, in honor of its 150th anniversary, 1864-2014. There won't be a parade, a ribbon cutting, a "street naming," concert in the park dedicated to the anniversary, a pub-crawl, or even a toast at the local pub, in Irving and LeSueur's honor. But hopefully, I'm going to inspire a change here, that may finally become an accepted and celebrated reality of branding, that didn't come from a consultant's report; or have to be paid for, in order to receive. Please join me this week, for some insights on the naming of two South Muskoka towns. Both, very honorable situations, that need to be seen in the bright light that was initially intended, but went dim out of neglect.
     I don't want this to be seen as a way of lobbying local government to support my mission, to promote this aspect of community heritage. I have nothing to gain, except as an historian, who feels obliged to dot his "i's," in order to feel a job has been successfully completed. It's not the case the town has to sign on to anything, to complete my mission. But I do have to make it as public as I possibly can, and this, in a few days, will be my mission of satisfaction.
     Thanks for joining me today. Lots more to come.

From the Archives of August 2012

GRAVENHURST POST OFFICE BECAME OFFICIAL IN AUGUST 1862

THE HAMLET WAS NAMED AFTER A BOOK BY WILLIAM HENRY SMITH

     "SMITH, WILLIAM HENRY (1808-1872), philosopher, poet, and miscellaneous writer, son of Richard Smith, barrister-at-law, was born at North End, Hammersmith, in January 1808, of parents in easy circumstances. Theyre Townsend Smith was his brother. He was educated at Radley School, then a non-conformist institution, and afterwards at Glasgow University, where he made many valuable friends and imbibed the habits of thought which influenced his subsequent life. After his father's death in 1823, he was placed with Sharon Turner to study law, and served out his articles as a solicitor with excessive distaste. He was afterwards called to the bar, and went circuit for awhile, but obtained no practice. Having a small independence, he mainly led the life of a recluse man of letters, reading, thinking, writing, and enjoying the friendship of Mill, Maurice, and Sterling, (author philosophers of considerable acclaim) having assisted the latter two when they edited the 'Atheneum.' Caroline Fox notices his likeness to Maurice," which is a strikingly significant compliment, in fact. (The Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press)

     William Henry Smith turned his back on the legal profession, and became a well regarded and accomplished author, and this connects to us, today, in modern day Gravenhurst. His decision to quit law, in reality, and the passion he had to write, generated some years later, the book "Gravenhurst," in 1862, the same year our post office was officially named the same. It was no coincidence. Just provenance we knew very little about.

     THERE WERE NO BALLOONS SET FREE AS A BUNCH, INTO THE BLUE SKIES OVER GRAVENHURST. THERE WAS NO PARADE, NO FLY-OVER BY THE SNOWBIRDS, GUNFIRE IN CELEBRATION, OR A SINGLE NOTICE ANYWHERE IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN, THAT TODAY MARKED THE 150TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE OFFICIAL NAMING OF THE TOWN OF GRAVENHURST.......MARKED BY THE OPENING OF THE FIRST POST OFFICE IN AUGUST 1862.

    BUT A FEW OF US DIDN'T FORGET, AND WE MADE A SPECIAL VIDEO THAT WE HAVE OFFERED THE TOWN FREE OF CHARGE, TO MARK THE HISTORIC MILESTONE OF WHICH WE ARE ENORMOUSLY PROUD AS HOMETOWNERS. I HAVE ALSO PLANNED A MULTI-BLOG SERIES TO FURTHER EXPLAIN OUR FASCINATING CONNECTION TO ONE OF BRITIAN'S WELL KNOWN AUTHORS, AND HOW IT ALL CAME ABOUT, THANKS TO THE HANDIWORK OF POSTAL AUTHORITY, AND CANADIAN HISTORIAN, WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR. AS HISTORY GOES, OF THIS KIND OF THING, THE "GRAVENHURST" CONNECTION IS A DANDY, LARGELY BECAUSE OF ALL THE SCREW-UPS OVER THE DECADES, THAT HAVE KEPT US DISTANT, FROM KNOWING MORE ABOUT THE WRITER RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR NAME. I HOPE, AT THE VERY LEAST, THAT THIS SERIES OF ARTICLES, AND MUSIC VIDEO, WILL ESTABLISH ONCE AND FOR ALL, A SUITABLE ONLINE ARCHIVE, FOR RESEARCHERS AND HISTORIANS IN THE FUTURE......AND HELP THEM AVOID THE SAME MISTAKES THAT HAVE BEEN MADE OVER AND OVER FOR WELL MORE THAN A CENTURY.

     IN A DOCUMENT IN POSSESSION OF THE GRAVENHURST ARCHIVES COMMITTEE, AND ORIGINALLY SENT TO REGIONAL HISTORIAN, CECIL PORTER, FROM THE FEDERAL OFFICE OF CANADA POST, THERE IS CLEAR CONFIRMATION, OF THE CONNECTION BETWEEN POSTAL AUTHORITY, WILLIAM DAWSON LESUEUR AND BRITISH AUTHOR, WILLIAM HENRY SMITH, AS RELATES TO THE 1862 NAMING OF THE NEW POST OFFICE.

     THE LETTER DATED, THE 10TH OF SEPTEMBER, 1965, NOTES THE FOLLOWING, ABOUT THE NAMING AND OPENING OF THE POST OFFICE: "The Post Office records show that the Post Office at Gravenhurst, was originally opened under that name on the Ist of August, 1862. The original appointee to the Postmastership was James McCabe, whose term of office extended to December 1867, when he was succeeded by Peter Cockburn whose appointment was on the first of April, 1868, and who served until February 1873."

     The letter also informs Mr. Porter, one of the authors of the well known local history, "Light of Other Days," (working with the Centennial Committee), that "Records in Ottawa indicate that in 1905 an early settler wrote that the community prior to the establishment of the Post Office was called McCabe's Landing, and it will be noted that the original postmaster in 1862 had the surname McCabe. Records also show that W.D. LeSueur of the Post Office Department, acknowledged naming the area Gravenhurst and indicates he secured the name from the title of a book by William Smith, author of 'Thorndale'."

     In a November 1923 article, published in the Gravenhurst Banner, also provided by the Archives Committee, the following paragraph identifies the connection with William Henry Smith:

     "Mrs. J.A. Northey, of Toronto, who was a patient at 'Calydor' (Sanatorium) last winter, received a letter from a lady friend in Toronto, a member of a reading circle, who gives a new clue to the naming of Gravenhurst in the following paragraph from her letter. 'When I wrote the name Gravenhurst, I recollected something my uncle once told me about that place. For over forty years he was in the Post Office Department, at Ottawa, and for very many years he was secretary of the department, which is the next post to that of Deputy Post Master General. In the course of his work there, he had to name a great many post offices throughout Canada, mostly of course small hamlets just setting up an office; when it became necessary to find a name for one up in the northern districts, he called it 'Gravenhurst,' after the title of a book he happened to be reading at the time."

     Where the facts of the official naming become confusing, has a lot to do with Bracebridge officials and historians, who for whatever reason, began substituting Washington Irving's book, "Bracebridge Hall," into the last line of the paragraph above. Time and time again, LeSueur is accused of naming our town, based on a book he happened to be reading at the time. The same holds true, in fact, for Bracebridge, two year after the opening of the Gravenhurst Post Office. "He named the new post office after the name of a book he was reading at the time." This one line has frustrated me for the past fifteen years, because it makes assumptions, that LeSueur was both cavalier, and a postal clerk who read books while on the job. Consider what respected writer and historian, Redmond Thomas, gave as a speech, many years ago, to the male members of the Teachers' Federation of Muskoka, published in the local press.

     As to how the communities of Muskoka received their names, he writes about both Bracebridge and Gravenhurst, by suggesting, "(LeSueur) picked the names Bracebridge and Gravenhurst from two places mentioned in a book he had read, namely 'Bracebridge Hall,' by Washington Irving. In the reference book, "Places in Ontario," by Nick and Helma Mika, the following information is included about the naming of Gravenhurst: "The centre of this town, situated on the south end of Lake Muskoka, was variously known as McCabe's Landing, McCabe's Mill, and McCabe's Bay, after James (Micky) McCabe, the first settler here in 1859. It was given its present name in 1862 by William Dawson LeSueur (1840-1917), a secretary of the post office department, after a reference to Gravenhurst in Washington Irving's novel, "Bracebridge Hall (1822). William Smith's novel "Gravenhurst," (1862) is frequently cited as the source of the name, but LeSueur left a written record about how he chose it."

     In another article, provided by the Archives Committee, the following is noted of the naming of Gravenhurst: "Local historian, Claud Snider, has gone to considerable trouble in efforts to find who named the tiny village of Gravenhurst, but without success. However, he believes it was named after a small English town in Bedfordshire, England, during the first ten years of settlement."

SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT - NO "BRACEBRIDGE HALL CONNECTION"

     Quite a number of entries have been made in Bracebridge histories, suggesting incorrectly, that Gravenhurst was the name LeSueur fished out of  American Author, Washington Irving's famous book, "Bracebridge Hall." I worked for months to disprove this was possible, and I purchased a copy of the book, and read it twice. I also asked several Irving authorities, in the United States, if the revered writer had ever used the name "Gravenhurst," in any of the books he wrote.....not just in the case of Bracebridge Hall. I even asked if there was any chance that Irving had visited the community of Gravenhurst, in England, while on his travels.

      First of all, Irving did not use the name "Gravenhurst" in the book "Bracebridge Hall." He didn't write the name in any of his other books either. There is no evidence he visited the village of Gravenhurst in England. I gave my copy of Bracebridge Hall to the Archives Committee, here in Gravenhurst, to read, in order to satisfy themselves, that there is no credit due the good Mr. Irving, at least for our name.

     Based on my firm belief, that our town was named after a book written by British Author, William Henry Smith, entitled "Gravenhurst; or Thoughts on Good and Evil," our family purchased a rare 1870's memorial edition of Smith's book, and presented it to the Gravenhurst Archives Committee, along with an Archives of Canada photograph of William Dawson LeSueur, and a copy of his biography, entitled "A Critical Spirit - The Thought of William Dawson LeSueur," by A.B. McKillop. The antiquarian copy of "Gravenhurst," was purchased from "Timothy B. Wilder, Rare Books, of Hubbardston, Maryland, in 1998. It was the 1875 edition, with a memorial biography of the author, as penned by his wife. He died in 1872.

     As a sidebar to this story, is the fact the packaged book was returned to sender, by the Gravenhurst Post Office.....Mr. Wilder receiving the book, because there was no postal code on the package. Even though my name and address was correct, postal policy indicated it had to be returned as undeliverable. I thought this was quite appropriate and a little amusing, considering all the mistruths, and information tangles, I'd been dealing with for severals years previous to this event.

    My intrusion in the naming debacle was not welcome by several Bracebridge historians, who thought it best to leave historical record as it had been intially written, including the clear error with their research; the name "Gravenhurst" was never used by Irving, as they had been claiming for decades if not longer.

    I even offered these same historians my copy of "Bracebridge Hall," to read, as they had not done so previously, but they opted to avoid the issue. I pointed out to them, and to any one else who would listen, back in the late 1990's, that it was unreasonable, for Mr. LeSueur, a scholar as well as a federal civil servant, to take a name from inside a book, when he could have used its title. This means, that because Gravenhurst was named two full years before Bracebridge was granted its post office, that LeSueur, would have named our post office "Bracebridge" instead, if their theory held water.......and used a name found in the text, to re-name "North Falls," which was the title of Bracebridge before LeSueur made his unsubstantiated change. You have to know the accomplishments and handiwork of Dr. LeSueur first, to understand he would not have done this, ever! I had a chat, quite a few years ago now, with one of a number of "North Falls" loyalists in Bracebridge, still offended all these years since, that LeSueur buried the name the citizens had selected. They were so concerned about this federal over-ruling of their choice, that they registered the name, to keep it from being lost by time. I'm not sure about the citizens of Gravenhurst, just how they felt then, and today, about having the name "McCabe's Landing" rejected by LeSueur, in favor of a title borrowed from a newly published book.

     As I've repeated about a thousand times, LeSueur was not just a civil servant. He was a respected historian and literary critic, known in Europe and North America, and he would have had access to most of the newly published books.      Smith's book was published in 1862, the same year the Post Office was given its name. As for the naming of "Bracebridge," he obviously admired the work of the author, enough to afford the name he imposed by authority, onto a fledlging Canadian hamlet, he thought would come to appreciate the literary provenance, of being related to one of the great authors in history. I think he would be disappointed it took about 150 years to raise significant interest amongst the citizenry. Just as a little footnote to this; my readership has tripled in the last few days, in part, related to this coming historical feature. (Of course, it could also be because of my Music on the Barge reviews)

     I will offer more information on Mr. Smith in an upcoming blog, but what is important to remember, is that William Dawson LeSueur, was in roughly the same enterprise as his colleague William Henry Smith; both writing reviews of philosophical texts, for magazines such as Blackwoods. I adamently believe, LeSueur was so impressed by Smith's book, that he borrowed the title, to name the hamlet on Muskoka Bay. The citizens then were miffed why LeSueur had discarded their choice of names, "McCabe's Landing," and gave them the strange name of "Gravenhurst." LeSeuer had an explanation but he kept it largely to himself, feeling the settlers in the encampment, wouldn't have understood the literary significance anyway. Admittedly, this was his failing, and even if the citizens didn't get the connection, they should have been offered an explanation none the less. As a result of his failure to communicate, why he had selected "Gravenhurst," as the name of the brand new Post Office, history and its keepers, have distorted the act many different ways, somewhat retarding the credit deserved to both gentleman.....LeSueur and Smith. Hopefully this has been corrected, if historians in the future, would research more diligently and thoroughly than in the past.

     In the coming days, I will present more background information about both Dr. LeSueur, and William Henry Smith, and why the 150th anniversary of the naming, deserves more public recognition than it has to date. If I hadn't decided to create this editorial series, and beg help from my videographer son, the 150th would have been missed (neglected) entirely. Make sure you click onto the music video, son Robert produced to commemorate the occasion of the century and a half anniversary. Much more to come.

(NOTE ABOUT THE VIDEO - I WANT TO THANK SON ROBERT FOR HAVING THE PATIENCE TO DEAL WITH HIS MEDDLING, ARGUMENTATIVE, INTRUSIVE, PAIN-IN-THE-ASS FATHER, TO MAKE THIS CONTEMPORARY MUSIC VIDEO, TO HIGHLIGHT THIS AUGUST IST ANNIVERSAY. HE'S A GOOD LAD! THE VIDEO AND THIS PROJECT, WERE DONE OUT OF RESPECT FOR OUR HOMETOWN, AND ALL THE FOLKS PAST AND PRESENT, WHO WORK SO HARD, TO MAKE IT A DYNAMIC, GOOD NEIGHBOR COMMUNITY.)

     Thanks for visiting today's blog. Please join me again soon.

Connecting With Antiques, Collectibles and Our Region Of Ontario; William Shea and The Bear From Our Family Archives

The mistake of the antique profession, is to base everything on profit and greed

The antique dealer either becomes a legend in his, or her own time, or leaves the business disgruntled the result of missed opportunity


    I found a charming little oil painting today, jammed awkwardly together, with dozens of crappy prints, on an inadequate metal shelf in a second hand shop, while trying to secure a little floor space in front, (in competition with other hands) that I very nearly dismissed as being a paper print adhered to a wood block. A rookie mistake. Any dealer with as much water under the bridge as me, should have picked-up on its pecularities right off the bat. There was some damage along two of the edges, and what I was initially confused by, was that the exposed areas (very tiny) looked too white and "paper-like" in constitution. If it had been a canvas, even with the damage, there would have been material fibres visible where it had been torn away. It was common to paint on another material, and then attach it, with glue, to a wood panel. So under magnification, the constitution of the material should have been visible. It makes all the difference, knowing this, because there are many frauds out there today, especially in second hand and charity shops. Some are so good, that even us tutored dealers fall prey.
    When Suzanne gave me the small magnifying glass, she keeps in her purse for such instances, glory be, I found a brush hair in the paint on the paper-like material, adhered to the wood block. What I assumed could only be a print, contained one significant brush hair, which is a pretty good sign that it's an original, and not a paper print. Then I found the signature on the bottom left hand corner. The subject matter, was a small farm scene, with chickens and a rooster, and it was by all standards, a damn fine piece of artwork. The wooden block that it was adhered, was hand sculpted as well, which really should have been the tip-off if I had looked more closely, to start with. It's why I've been kicking my ass all afternoon; the fact I made a hasty decision, and if Suzanne had't been close at the time, I may not have asked to see her looking glass. It was a very affordable price, to make this little charmer my own, and I tried not to do the happy dance on the way out of the store. I when others do it, but I did feel a little jig coming on. Vendors try to beat the dealers, and we don't shy away from a challenge. If they win, shame on us. If we win, well, that's the way it's supposed to be, because we have all the advantages. We know the power of research and continuous learning in our profession. I will have a picture of this painting in tomorrow's blog, and a beautiful little Victorian cameo, we also found, with great jubilation, on a very prosperous weekend of antiquing about the area.
      I additionally picked up a well executed, beautifully appointed watercolor of a Muskoka or Algonquin lake scene, with cottage building and canoe sitting up against the shore. And, Robert found me a 1967 memorial reprint issue, of Blodwen Davies' well known biography, of Canadian landscape artist, Tom Thomson; a book originally published privately by the author, in small quantity. This reprint edition was done especially to celebrate Canada's Centennial. I have one in my archives collection, that I paid forty dollars for five years ago. This one is for sale in the shop. I have a Blodwen Davies' original, entitled "Pallete and Paddle," in limited edition, from the period of the early 1930's. Blodwen Davies has always intrigued me, because she was the first writer to question how Tom Thomson died, that July, 1917, while traversing Canoe Lake, challenging the coroner's inquest conclusion, that the artist had died the result of accidental drowning. Davies suspected it was a case of murder, and even went to the provincial police with her suspicions; many which were raised during her interviews with Canoe Lake residents, about Tom Thomson's habits on Canoe Lake, and the lakeside community of Mowat, where the artist lived during the summer months. Many suspected foul play, but had never gone public before Davies came along, and started conducting interviews. It was Davies' book, on Thomson, that inspired Judge William Little, in the early 1970's, to write his own book on the subject, entitled "The Tom Thomson Mystery," still one of the most popular books on the rebound in Canada.
    I won't mislead you. There are some significant treasures out there, waiting to be re-discovered, but many require the hunter to be alert beyond the commonplace, of what is usually considered a pretty conservative business enterprise. It is for some. Not for those who know that the very next time out on the road, in some dimly lit flea market corner, or hole-in-the-wall antique shop, there will be something "old world" or better, requiring the finder to be astute about the tiniest detail. You have to know your stuff, and even those with many years experience, can mess-up when it comes to in-shop, or at-the-sale identification. It pays to carry a small magnifying apparatus, because there are many occasions, when you find something you think is original, that is nothing more than a facsimile, and not even a good one. These magnifying devices are great for china and silver marks, and when you are at a sale, and expedience is necessary, it assists the whole aspect of due diligence. Fake, copy, or original? There are a certain number of pieces, that only get interesting when they are magnified, especially if you want to invest in art. You need to see the quality of the brush strokes, and the condition of the paint. There are not shortcuts in this, and there are millions of speed bumps, to being considered worthy of the title "art collector."  I've been collecting art for a long time, but I still feel unqualified, as compared to the big wheels, with wheelbarrows full of money, who invest millions each year, and garner investment returns, that would eclipse everything financial I've accomplished over a lifetime. But, in antique terms, I'm still a rookie, even after forty years questing for the holy grail. I don't care. I'm good with being a slow learner.
     I think the biggest mistake, I still see a lot of dealers make, especially in co-op situations, is that they over-price out of fear, they are going to sell their great finds too cheaply. In most of the antique malls I visit, there is this prevailing obsession with dragging the last cent out of a neat piece of vintage furniture, or china, glass, or pottery, and then failing to notice the fact, they misidentified another antiquity, putting a wonderfully low price on it, because they were mistaken about its provenance, age, significance, and value. I've found booths where a vendor has priced jars of old buttons, for more than, for example, an original European watercolor, that they believed was just a nice print in a cute frame. I've been in other booths, where a nicely framed print, (but definitely one of hundreds of thousands produced) was priced more than for a solid, competently painted and signed, original landscape, in oil, that could have been researched online, in about ten minutes of sleuthing time. It's exactly what we look for, and we have been targeting certain dealers, who never learn from their shortfalls. Well, it's like this. They don't actually know they were shortfalls, until one day, on an antique tour, they visit our shop, and yell out, "Holy crap, you bought this from us." "Sorry Charlie," but that is the name of the game.
     I pursue antiques with the same zeal, extended from childhood. I never went for a walk, to school, or even for a hike through the woods, without finding stuff to bring home. I've done this for as long as I can remember. So at fifty-nine, my friends, I am getting better at this hunt and gather exercise. This weekend alone, I picked up seven exceptional works of art, and another fifteen that we can sell in the shop, for a modest mark-up, that will make young home decorators very happy. Affordable wall art, signed and original, is a good seller for us, and we always like to have our walls full; and we never dumb-our-store-down, by refusing to offer the best of the best to advantage our customers. If we make a big find, it will be put up for sale. It will have been researched, and every detail we can find out about it, including the region from which it was generated, is passed on to a future owner. We got a lovely vintage wooden carving this weekend, of a ski chalet in Quebec, nicely painted by the artist, by the name of "Benoit". Not Madam Benoit. It is carved into an inch thick piece of cut pine, in a foot long panel, and purposely warped to enhance the scene. This is a little pricey because it is a nice piece of Canadiana, and our Quebec carvings don't last long in the shop. A short distance from where it hangs, we have a much larger landscape painting, of the Rockies, we believe, that is competently executed, and a believable, nature-filled scene. It's what is considered, a starving artist painting, or "motel art" because they are done fairly quickly, by the painters, as compared to what landscapes might otherwise take in time to complete. Some like Varga, used to work in shopping malls, painting landscapes while you watched. They didn't take days to complete but hours. We can sell paintings like this, that are pleasing wall adornments, for any room in the house, at about fifty bucks. But we also like to have work by the better known artists and wood carvers, yet we have customers in all price ranges, so having a wide selection has proven successful for us in the past. We may buy three exceptional paintings, in the under thousand dollar range, and we will then buy a half dozen in the under hundred dollar zone, and they of course, always outsell what we call our investment paintings. Investment antiques are the backbone of the enterprise. They can be auctioned off when money is needed, or you close up shop.
     The difference with our approach to antique hunting, is that we don't take anything for granted. We know that in order to prosper in the antique and collectable business, we have to cover three levels really well. The first level, is finding inventory to sell daily to all kinds of customers, having all ranges of spending capabilities, in the shop setting. If you want to survive, you have to stock saleable inventory. By this I mean, sensibly priced, useable, good condition, high quality collectable-wear, that is vintage through and through, but still highly useable, in the kitchen, or on the harvest table. Vintage kitchen mixing bowls, and utensils, that can still be used. We make a third of our rent, every month, on what most dealers call "smalls," that for us are related to our cookery heritage. Basically, the first level, is the most important to everything else, because you have to meet the budget restrictions of your clientele. These days, you're competing with a lot of other dealers and second hand shops. If we price too high, we lose our customers to competing shops in the marketplace; which for us this year, has become far more intense and unforgiving. There are only so many dollars to go around, and we have to prove we want your business more than our neighbors. It's great for the consumer, but it does forced us to be far more aggressive, hunting for interesting and affordable inventory. A shop that doesn't keep this affordability thing on the front burner, will disappear in the oblivion of so many other antique shops throughout history. If times get tough financially, in the years to come, there will be a lot of dealers we see today, who will be out of business. Frankly, I don't know how they survive at present. Those dealers that show some sensible proportion, and understand the importance of turn-over, and fiscal dynamic, find us as customers, and believe me, once we attach ourselves, you can bank on us for years down the road. Sometimes, however, we find that some dealers in malls, figure out what we're looking for, and on subsequent trips, we notice the prices for items that interest us, are far, far out of reach. In fact, we've had to drop several antique stops-along-the-way, in favor of others, simply because we can't afford to buy and re-sell. The only way we can shop with them, is shark-style, and this takes time. This means we gnaw each dealer down to a nub, by looking hard, and long for the pieces they misidentified, or misunderstood. If we are in a time crunch, we most often, just put our focus on another shop, and other dealers instead, and let the folly play itself out. It always does by the way. Level one dealing, is for sustainability. You can't survive without steady earnings, and they are best secured, by offering low prices on quality pieces; none of the holy grail variety.
     The second level, is the solid antique and collectable exhibition. This is where dealers show their competence, in their respective areas of specialty, or even generality. This means, that when customers come in to a mall, they know exactly what you represent, even in the first minute of casual observation. These are "credibility" pieces, pretty standard in the antique trade, such that every dealer seems prone to have at least one rocking chair, or one vinegar crock, one silver tray and tea set, to demonstrate that industry traditions are still alive and well. These are antiques and collectables that show customers, you know what you're doing, and are thusly capable of bigger and better things. If you're a vendor, you want them leaving your booth with pieces under their arms, headed to the sales counter; but most of all, you want them to re-visit your section, the very next time they drop by the shop. In antique malls we visit, the four Curries of the Apocalypse, know before we open the front door, which direction we're going to travel. To those booths we know have great pieces for what we consider, justifiable, acceptable prices. It may stay this way for a year, and then all of a sudden, the dealer gets greedy and we have to move on, and find other vendors who price more sensibly. Keep in mind, that in the tradition of the antique profession, going back centuries, dealers buy off dealers, and most pickers are dealers today as well. It is customary, and a professional courtesy to give vendor-discounts, which we have always practiced no matter what the prices of purchased items; but lately, this has become a fading tradition in the industry as a whole.
     The third level, is the "best of the best" or "show-off" stage, which means dealers relish the idea of having pieces in their booths, or shops, that are "show stoppers," which of course refers to antique shows more than shops, as such. The idea, is that the big, bold and beautiful antique pieces, versus the run-of-the-mill old stuff, attracts shoppers to your booth or shop with the "wow" factor. It could be a collection of vintage silver from the 1700's, an original totem pole, birch bark canoe, cigar store indian, or a half dozen painted crocks from Quebec. These are important pieces to have in your collection, because it has been proven time and again, to draw people inside, and creates conversation; which is a first step to outright purchase. These are qualifying pieces, that validate everything else you have, and the "dealer you," as a player in the profession, believe it our not; even the small ticket, ordinary items, look better on a shelf beside something spectacular in character. Anything looks good next to silver and painted crockery; a second hand paddle looks amazing, if it's sitting on the thwarts of a vintage Chestnut Canoe. The extension of this, is the investment level, which is really part of this category, because it deals with the best of the best, in your collection. A lot of dealers keep their best at home, and this really bothers me. I don't. We don't. If we have a shop in the first place, we're not going to hold-back; and the only reason we would do this, is to facilitate research, because know that bigger ticket items require as much provenance as attainable, if you wish to get the best price. So we might delay a couple of weeks, before we bring a more valuable piece into the shop, so we have our ducks in a row, you might say.
     There's still a lot more to this collecting thing, than the almighty profit. Antique hunting generally, is the time of my most dedicated concentration, and it pays off. Suzanne calls this my monk phase. I am so focused, I won't let anything distract me, including the other focused dealers, who try to cut me off at the pass. My wife tells me that I make an audible growl, to move people away from me, and I suppose she's right. Today, and this weekend generally, we had a great time criss-crossing the region, south and north, and enjoyed some good company, good food, and a great opportunities to improve our shop inventory. We don't come home with a hundred thousand dollars in inventory. We do come home, with a satisfied feeling, that we enjoyed what we were up to, and it was stress free from beginning to end. The discoveries are great, and we are always pleased, when our years of extra research, and extended learning pay off; mostly because we know about certain pieces, and provenance, ahead of time. We do put ourselves in the greatest position of advantage, to out perform our competition. It's what makes it so darn much fun, because while it's not competition with a hockey stick, baseball bat, football, golf club, or curling broom, it is a challenge to see if we can out-fox our partner professionals. It's tough out there, so the only way to get ahead, and get the best pieces first, is to be intuitive, and fast on the draw. It's not about getting to the sale early. It's about knowing what's of value and what's not. I watched people this weekend, going nuts over framed prints, and related graphics, that were basically worthless, other than to fill some wall space. When they were finished pawing over the art work, they would have inadvertently uncovered a signed original, and that's when my lightning hand shot in for the pick-up. One lady, who had one of those framed faded flowers, that were copied in the billions, looked at my lovely little water color and said, "You know that's only a print, right?" "Well, then this print has a brush hair stuck in the paint."
     It's hard work out there, but there's no life like it! I was born a treasure hunter, and it will be etched on to my tombstone. "The old son of a bitch never said "never," and he got his holy grail afterall."


FROM THE ARCHIVES

HISTORY IS WHAT IT IS! A COLLECTION OF FACTS AND STORIES THAT REMIND US WHO WE ARE - WHERE WE CAME FROM!

AND THEN THERE'S A LITTLE COLOR, FOR THOSE WHO CAN HANDLE A LITTLE MORE THAN THE TRUTH!

     DID YOU KNOW THERE WERE HOUSES OF ILL REPUTE, OPERATING IN BRACEBRIDGE, BACK IN THE LATE 1800'S. IT SEEMS THE LOGGERS, WOODWORKERS, TANNING INDUSTRY LABORERS, ETC., WERE KNOWN TO VISIT SEVERAL PROSTITUTES, WHO HAD SET UP THEIR ENTERPRISE, IN A COMFORTABLE ABODE IN "THE HOLLOW," IN CLOSE PROXIMITY TO THEIR CLIENTS' RESPECTIVE PLACES OF INDUSTRY. THE TOWN CONSTABLES, ACTING ON COMPLAINTS, MOVED IN ON THE LADIES, AND DID MANAGE TO CLOSE ONE HOUSE, AND THEN THE OTHER, TO THE CHAGRIN OF SOME WHO LIKED THEIR COMPANY. NOT ONES TO GIVE UP EASILY, THEY WERE SAID TO HAVE SET-UP FREE RANGE NATURE RETREATS, FOR THOSE STRAY SOULS PINING FOR LOVE, SITUATED CLOSE TO TOWN; SOMEWHERE ON THE BANK OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER. THE THIRD VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST, AND SECOND. THE CONSTABLES HAD TO KEEP STOMPING ON THESE BREAK-OUT FIRES, THAT WERE GIVING THE WIVES AND MOTHERS OF THE TOWN SOME HEARTACHE. 

     OVER THE PAST FEW WEEKS, I'VE BEEN ATTEMPTING TO SHED SOME LIGHT ON THE FOLK HISTORY OF MUSKOKA.  THE BAND OF HISTORIANS, SERVING THIS REGION, SINCE THE LATE 1860'S, HAS GIVEN US MODERNISTS, A PRETTY GOOD FOUNDATION OF RECORDED, FACTUAL HISTORY. IT'S THE SKELETON WE NEED, TO UNDERSTAND THE WAY WE HAVE DEVELOPED, FROM THOSE FIRST FEW HAMLETS AND LOG SHANTIES, TO THE PRESENT. THERE HAVE BEEN A LOT OF BOOKS WRITTEN ABOUT MUSKOKA'S HISTORY, AND OVERALL, I'D SAY WE'VE BEEN PRETTY WELL SERVED BY OUR RECORD KEEPERS. I DO FEEL, HOWEVER, THAT WE STILL HAVE A SHORTAGE OF FOLK STORIES, TO APPLY TO THAT SKELETON, TO GIVE THE MUSKOKA STORY A MORE HUMAN COMPOSITION. THOSE PEOPLE WHO HAVE MADE IT TO THE BLACK PRINT, IN OUR HISTORY TEXTS, HAD PERSONALITIES, AND CURIOUS HUMAN ATTRIBUTES, WHICH WERE PART AND PARCEL OF THE HISTORY THEY IMPRINTED. UNFORTUNATELY, A LOT OF THE BARE BONES HISTORY, WILL NEVER HAVE ANY MORE FLESH ATOP THEM, BECAUSE HISTORIANS OFTEN DIDN'T FEEL IT NECESSARY; TO THINK OF THIS HUMANITY-THING, AS BEING IMPORTANT TO THE OUTCOME OF THE STORY. WHAT I HAVE PRESENTED OVER THE PAST MONTH, HAS BEEN DIRECTED SPECIFICALLY, AT PUTTING SOME ACTUALITY AND EMOTION BACK INTO THE WAY WE INTERPRET OUR HISTORICAL PAST. ANECDOTE IS PART OF OUR DAILY LIVES. WHAT WOULD A STORY ABOUT A DAY SPENT AT SCHOOL OR WORK, BE, OR REPRESENT IN POSTERITY, WITHOUT THE COMPANION ANECDOTE, ABOUT SOMEONE'S FOLLY ON THE JOB….OR IN THE CLASSROOM. IT'S WHAT MAKES HISTORY MEMORABLE. NOT JUST THE BARE FACTS. THE COLOR AND EMOTION OF THE NEWS MAKER, IS WHAT COMPELS US TO REMEMBER THE FACTS OF SOME EVENT OR OTHER.

     AS I'VE MENTIONED ON NUMEROUS OCCASIONS, I HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF A CLOSE APPRENTICESHIP WITH NUMEROUS HISTORIANS, LOCAL, PROVINCIAL AND NATIONAL, AND I'VE SPENT QUITE A BIT OF RESEARCH TIME, WORKING ON BIOGRAPHIES; PARTICULARLY HUGELY INTERESTING BIOGRAPHIES OF MUSKOKA ARTISTS, SUCH AS RICHARD KARON, ROBERT EVERETT, AND PIONEER PAINTER, ADA FLORENCE KINTON. I KNOW QUITE A BIT ABOUT OTHER LOCAL ARTISTS, SUCH AS THE LATE BILL ANDERSON, THE BRACEBRIDGE BARBERSHOP ARTIST, AND ROSS SMITH, THE UPTOWN GAS STATION ATTENDANT-ARTIST, ALSO FROM BRACEBRIDGE. I WENT TO SCHOOL WITH ROSS, AND WATCHED HIM MATURE AS A PAINTER OVER MANY YEARS. WHEN I WAS GROWING UP, IN BRACEBRIDGE, YOU COULD BUY A PAINTING OFF ROSS, FROM THE UPTOWN ESSO THAT HIS FATHER OWNED, (HE WORKED AT HIS PAINTINGS BETWEEN CUSTOMERS), AND BILL ANDERSON WOULD SELL YOU ONE OF HIS LANDSCAPES, WHICH HE ALSO WORKED-ON BETWEEN CUTTING GIGS, AT HIS BARBERSHOP, ON THE SOUTH CORNER OF THE FORMER PATTERSON HOTEL, ON MANITOBA STREET. BOB EVERETT, ONE OF MUSKOKA'S BEST KNOWN PAINTERS, USED TO SKETCH AND PAINT IN THE BACK OF EVERETT'S DRUG STORE, AT THE SOUTH END OF MANITOBA STREET, ON CIGAR BOX LIDS…..AND SHOULD YOU EVER FIND ONE, IT'S WORTH A "PRETTY PENNY" AS THEY SAY. HERE IN GRAVENHURST I'VE GOT A PRETTY FAIR FILE GOING, ON FRANK JOHNSTON, THE MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR THE WONDERFUL WATERCOLORS OF MUSKOKA STEAMSHIPS, THAT USED TO HANG ON THE WALLS OF THE FORMER SLOAN'S RESTAURANT, ON MUSKOKA ROAD. ALL FASCINATING STUDIES, OF THE CHARACTERS WHO FOUND INSPIRATION IN OUR REGION OF ONTARIO. BUT WHAT WERE THEY LIKE, AS INDIVIDUALS. THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW. IN FACT, I'D LIKE TO KNOW MORE ABOUT ALL OUR HISTORY MAKERS, BECAUSE THERE WAS SO MUCH MORE HERE, THAN JUST BARE BONES HISTORY, BEING NOTCHED HOUR AFTER HOUR, DAY AFTER DAY. BY THE WAY, WILLIAM ANDERSON WAS A WELL KNOWN LOGGER IN MUSKOKA, AND KNEW A LOT ABOUT THE LORE OF THE WOODLANDS. HE PUT THIS SENSORY PERCEPTION INTO HIS LANDSCAPES, SUCH THAT THEY OFTEN APPEARED, AT LEAST TO ME (WHO SAT IN HIS CHAIR TWO SATURDAYS A MONTH)  AS IF YOU COULD WALK FROM THE BARBER'S CHAIR, RIGHT INTO THE RAINY HAZE OF A MUSKOKA FOREST….IN ITS AUTUMN FINERY.

     ONE OF THE FIRST BOOKS THAT GOT ME THINKING ABOUT THE LACKING COLOR OF MUSKOKA HISTORY, WAS WHEN I CAME UPON A BOOK WRITTEN BY REDMOND THOMAS, Q.C., ENTITLED "RECOLLECTIONS." REDMOND WAS THE SON OF G.H.O. THOMAS, ONE OF THE TOWN'S GREAT MOVERS AND SHAKERS, WHO BECAME KNOWN IN THE LOCAL NEWSPAPER GAME, WITH THE BRACEBRIDGE GAZETTE. REDMOND, WHO HAD WRITTEN A NEWSPAPER COLUMN FOR MANY YEARS, PUT SOME OF HIS FAVORITE STORIES INTO A SMALL STAPLE-BOUND TEXT, THAT CONTAINED THE KIND OF STORIES A FLEDGLING HISTORIAN LIKE ME, WANTED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT. MY FAVORITE IS THE STORY HE SPUN, ABOUT A HUGE STEAM-POWERED MERRY-GO-ROUND, THAT WAS OWNED BY SOMEONE IN THE GRAVENHURST AREA, AND RENTED OUT TO FALL FAIRS AND COMMUNITY CELEBRATIONS. IN HIS DESCRIPTION, HE TELLS HOW THE BEAUTIFUL CARNIVAL PIECE, WAS SHIPPED IN PIECES, ABOARD A TRAIN, COMING NORTH FROM GRAVENHURST, AND LOCATED IN AN AREA OF THE MAIN STREET, BUT SEEING AS I DON'T PRESENTLY OWN THE BOOK, I'LL JUST HAVE TO GUESS THAT IT WAS WHERE THE CARNEGIE LIBRARY WAS BUILT, ON UPPER MANITOBA STREET…OR IN THE VICINITY, BUT NOT MEMORIAL PARK.

     REDMOND DESCRIBES THE SCENE BEAUTIFULLY, OF THE GAS ILLUMINATION FROM THE TORCHES, MOUNTED ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE MERRY-GO-ROUND; THE SOUND OF THE STEAM ENGINE PUMPING AWAY, AND THE SONG BEING PLAYED, "MEET ME IN ST.LOUIS," IN RECOGNITION OF THE ST. LOUIS WORLD'S FAIR. THE WAY HE DESCRIBES THE NIGHT, THE SIGHT OF THE TORCH LIT MERRY-GO-ROUND SPINNING, THE CROWD HUDDLED AROUND, AND THE PASSENGERS THOROUGHLY ENJOYING THEMSELVES, YOU FELT AS IF YOU WERE STANDING THERE AS WELL, THE SMELL OF FOOD AND CANDY PERMEATING THE COOL AIR…..AND THAT'S WHAT I CONSIDER THE MASTERY OF A GOOD STORY TELLER.

     HE WROTE ANOTHER ONE, THAT FASCINATED ME, ABOUT, I BELIEVE, MR. BROWNING'S FUNERAL PROCESSION, THAT HAS ALWAYS STUCK IN MY MIND. FIRST BECAUSE WE USED TO HAVE OUR SECOND ANTIQUE SHOP, BIRCH HOLLOW, IN THE BASEMENT OF THE FORMER FUNERAL DIRECTOR'S HOME, W.W. KINSEY, ON NORTH MANITOBA STREET. REDMOND TELLS THE STORY, (ALTHOUGH SOME DETAILS NOW ARE A LITTLE FUZZY), THAT MR. BROWNING, ONE OF THE TOWN'S PROMINENT CITIZENS OF THE LATE 1800'S, (BROWNING HALL, CONNECTED TO ST. THOMAS ANGLICAN CHURCH),  WAS IN HIS COFFIN, PLACED IN THE BACK OF KINSEY'S HORSE DRAWN HEARSE, PARKED, AWAITING THE BEGINNING OF THE FUNERAL PROCESSION NORTH ON THE MAIN STREET. APPARENTLY, SOMETHING SPOOKED THE HORSES, AND UPON REARING UP IN FRIGHT, SENT THE HEARSE UP AT THE FRONT, AND THE OCCUPANT SMASHING OUT THE GLASS DOORS OF THE BACK END, ONTO THE GROUND, IN AN UNCEREMONIOUS CRASH AND ROLL. ONE OF THE ATTENDANTS, AT THE TIME, WAS HEARD TO YELL OUT, "NO, NO, MR. BROWNING…..WE'RE NOT THERE YET," MEANING THE CEMETERY. AS FAR AS THE NORMAL COURSE OF HISTORICAL RECORD, THIS WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN MENTIONED OTHERWISE. IT WAS CONSIDERED IRRELEVANT AND UNNECESSARY, AND MORE LIKE, VERY UNFLATTERING TO MR. KINSEY, AND TO THE BROWNING FAMILY. BUT IT HAPPENED. WITNESSES SAW THE FLYING COFFIN HIT THE ROAD. AND BECAUSE IT WAS ONE OF THE TOWN'S MOST BENEVOLENT CITIZENS, OF COURSE IT WAS NEWS. IT SHOWED THAT WE MUSKOKANS WEREN'T SO SERIOUS, TO HAVE LET A MOMENT LIKE THIS OCCUR, WITHOUT A LITTLE ACCOMPANYING ANECDOTE. IT WASN'T DISRESPECTFUL TO MR. BROWNING, OR A SIGN OF BAD BUSINESS BY KINSEY, JUST ANOTHER UNPREDICTABLE MOMENT IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND GOING ABOUT HIS OR HER BUSINESS. THINGS HAPPEN. MR. BROWNING WAS GIVEN A FITTING SEND-OFF NONE THE LESS, BUT I THINK HE MIGHT HAVE GOT A CHUCKLE ABOUT IT HIMSELF, AS HE WAS SAID TO HAVE HAD A GOOD SENSE OF HUMOR IN LIFE.

     NOW THIS STORY HAS BEEN AROUND FOR LONG AND LONG, BUT I CAN'T ATTRIBUTE IT TO ANOTHER HISTORIAN; BUT RATHER TO A PUBLISHED NEWSPAPER ACCOUNT. IT IS THE SHORT NEWS STORY ABOUT A BRACEBRIDGE DOCTOR, WHO I WILL LEAVE UNNAMED, FROM THE EARLY YEARS OF TOWN HISTORY, WHO DECIDED TO AVOID THE NUISANCE OF HAVING SOME OTHER DOCTOR, REMOVE HIS TONSILS, NECESSITATING A HOSPITAL STAY. YES, YOU ARE RIGHT, IF YOU WERE THINKING HE DECIDED TO REMOVE THEM HIMSELF. UNFORTUNATELY FOR THE GOOD DOCTOR, A RESPECTED PRACTITIONER, HE WAS UNABLE TO HALT THE BLEEDING FROM HIS FIRST INCISION, AND BLED TO DEATH AS A RESULT. A LITTLE HARD TO BELIEVE, BUT IT HAPPENED.

     ANOTHER FASCINATING STORY TOLD BY REDMOND THOMAS, CHRONICLED A MAJOR TOWN EXPLOSION, THAT OCCURRED WHEN SOME TEENAGERS GAINED ENTRY INTO A STORAGE AREA, ON THE ROCKS ADJACENT TO BRACEBRIDGE FALLS. IT WAS A HOT DAY, AND THE FOREMAN OF A CONSTRUCTION PROJECT NEAR BY, HAD GONE FOR LUNCH, FAILING TO LOCK-UP THE DYNAMITE STORED WITHIN. SOMEHOW THE LADS WERE ABLE IGNITE A FUSE, ON PURPOSE, AND WHEN THE STOCKPILE EXPLODED, THE MASSIVE VIBRATION FOLLOWED THE ROCK LEDGE, IN AN "L" PATTERN, BENEATH ALL THE BUILDINGS ON ONE SIDE OF MANITOBA STREET, HEADING NORTH, AND ALL THE WINDOWS THAT WERE SHUT, BLEW OUT; THE ONES THAT WERE OPENED, WERE SPARED, AS THE VIBRATION WAS THUSLY INTERRUPTED. IT WAS FORTUNATE THE STOCK PILE WAS A LITTLE LESS THAN IT HAD BEEN PREVIOUS IN THE WEEK, SUCH THAT THE ENTIRE STREET MIGHT HAVE BEEN LEVELED, BY THE LARK OF YOUTH PLAYING A PRANK. NO ONE WAS HURT ACCEPT THE FEELINGS OF THE CHAP RESPONSIBLE FOR KEEPING THE EXPLOSIVES UNDER LOCK AND KEY…..WHO HAD A LENGTHY AND LOUD REPRIMAND FOR HIS LACK OF DUE DILIGENCE.

     I WAS THINKING ABOUT THAT POWDER KEG EXPLOSION, NOT LONG AGO, WHEN WORK CREWS WERE INSTALLING NEW SEWER CONNECTIONS, AND UNDERGROUND SERVICES, AT THE SAME INTERSECTION, ABOVE THE FALLS, ENTRANCE DRIVE, QUEBEC STREET, AND MANITOBA. THE ROCK SHELF IS STILL THERE, AND I TALKED TO LOCAL BUSINESS OWNERS, WHO FELT THE DEEP VIBRATION BENEATH THEIR BUILDINGS, EACH TIME A CHARGE WAS DETONATED. BUT THESE WORKERS USED THE RIGHT AMOUNT, AND RUBBER BLANKETS TO STOP DEBRIS FROM FLYING ABOUT.

    THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF NEAT STORIES LIKE THIS, THAT WERE NEWS, FIRST OF ALL, BUT THERE WAS ALWAYS A SIDEBAR FOLK STORY ATTACHED….THAT ADDED THE COLOR TO THE BLACK AND WHITE NEWS ACCOUNT. I GREW UP HEARING ABOUT THESE TALES, LIKE THE TIME THERE WAS A TRAIN DERAILMENT RIGHT INTO THE BRACEBRIDGE STATION…..DESTROYING THE ENGINE, CARS, AND MUCH OF THE BUILDING. WAS IT ON TIME? THEN THERE WAS THE TALE ABOUT THE MISSING TRAIN BELL, STOLEN FROM A WRECK THAT HAPPENED ONCE IN THE HAMLET OF FALKENBURG, NORTH OF BRACEBRIDGE. I HAVE HEARD THREE DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF THE STORY, AND WHO WAS SUSPECTED OF GRABBING THE BRASS BELL, THAT HAD BEEN RIPPED FREE OF THE STEAM ENGINE. I ONCE HAD THREE NAMES, OF THOSE FAMILIES SUSPECTED OF HARBORING THE STOLEN BELL, AND I KNEW ALL OF THEM. EACH WOULD CAST DOUBT ON THE OTHER CLAN, BUT LEGEND HAS IT, THE BELL IS STILL GLEAMING AND ON DISPLAY, SOMEWHERE IN THE BRACEBRIDGE AREA.

     AND THEN, THERE'S THE FOLK STORY TOLD BY UFFORD / FAMILY HISTORIAN BERT SHEA, ENTITLED "WILLIAM SHEA AND THE BEAR":    "BEAR, AS PEOPLE, SEEM TO TAKE NOTIONS TO DO STRANGE THINGS OR DEVELOP DIFFERENT HABITS OR TASTES FOR FOOD. THIS ONE IN PARTICULAR, DEVELOPED A TASTE FOR OATS IN THE RIPENING STAGE. WHILE STANDING IN THE STRAW, HE WAS CREATING CONSIDERABLE DESTRUCTION BY BREAKING THE STRAW DOWN IN LARGE PATCHES IN THE SETTLERS' OAT FIELDS. MR. WINFIELD, SQUATTER, OWNER OF LOTS 12, CON. 4, CUT HIS SMALL ACREAGE OF VERY FINE OATS WITH THE CRADLE BOUND, THEN INTO SHEAVES BY HAND, AND STOOKED THEM IN ROUND STOOKS WITH A CAP TO CURE, TILL STACKING TIME, A MATTER OF A FEW DAYS.'

     BERT SHEA WRITES, " BY THE LIGHT OF THE FULL HARVEST MOON, FROM THE DEPTH OF THE ANCIENT WOOD, BRUIN CONTINUED HIS HAVOC WITH THE STOOKS, TEARING THEM APART, DESTROYING THE GRAIN, EATING SOME. SO THIS FINE NIGHT THAT PROMISED TO BE MOONLIGHT IN THE EVENING, WILLIAM SHEA VOLUNTEERED TO PLAY A SURPRISE ON BRUIN, AND MAKE HIM PAY FOR HIS DAMAGE BY HIS HIDE. ARMED WITH A MUZZLE LOADER, HE PICKED HIS STAND IN THE SMALL CLEARING, ARRANGED THE SHEAVES AROUND, IN THE FORM OF A LARGE STOOK AND CRAWLED INSIDE, GUN HAND PEEKING THROUGH THE HOLES BETWEEN THE SHEAVES; HE COULD SEE ALL PARTS OF THE FIELD. THE NIGHT WAS BEAUTIFUL; THE FULL MOON ROSE OVER THE FOREST IN ALL ITS SPLENDOR, CASTING DEEP, DARK SHADOWS ABOUT THE CLEARING EDGE. THE CRICKETS CHIRPED IN THE STUBBLE, A SLIGHT MIST AROSE FROM THE SWALE, A WARBLER PERCHED IN A THICKET SANG A SHORT SONG, AS IF IMPRESSED IN HIS SLEEP BY THE MAJESTY OF IT ALL. WILLIAM SHEA'S KEEN EYE NEVER CEASED TO SURVEY EVERY PART OF THE CLEARING FOR A MOVEMENT OF THE BLACK VISITOR. BY MIDNIGHT, THE OCCASIONAL CLOUD PASSED ACROSS THE FACE OF THE MOON, SHROUDING ITS LIGHT. BY ABOUT 2:30 A.M., BENEATH ONE OF THESE SHADOWS, WILLIAM COULD HEAR SOUNDS CAUSED BY MOVEMENTS ABOUT HIM, AND IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL, SOMETHING WAS WALKING DIRECTLY TOWARD HIS HIDING PLACE, BUT LOOK AS HE COULD, DARKNESS HID HIS VIEW.

     "HE THOUGHT IT WAS THE BEAR, BUT IT COULD BE A SETTLER'S COW; TO SHOOT COULD BE FATAL, PERHAPS KILL A COW THAT A SETTLER DEPENDED ON TO FEED HIS FAMILY MILK AND BUTTER, WOULD BE DISASTROUS. AND THEN TO SHOOT THE ONLY ROUND FROM A MUZZLE LOADER, DIRECTED BY CHANCE IN THE DARK, AND PERHAPS WAS A BEAR, COULD BE DEATH (TO THE SHOOTER) BY WOUNDED BEAR. HE WISHED FOR LIGHT AND FELT HIS CHANCES TO SHOOT THE BEAR WAS NOW AND IN CLOSE QUARTERS IF HE COULD ONLY SEE. ALL OF A SUDDEN, A SHEAF WAS TORN FROM HIS HIDING STOCK AND IN A MATTER OF FEET AWAY, HE COULD HEAR THE BEAR'S TEETH CHEWING ON THE OATS' HEADS. SECOND WERE AS MINUTES; WOULD THE LIGHT COME? WOULD THE CLOUDS PART? WILLIAM SHEA WAS A MAN EXCEPTIONALLY SWIFT TO ACTION, BUT NEVER IN CHANCE. SUDDENLY BRUIN SENSED THE PRESENCE OF A HUMAN BEING TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT, AND FLED, LEAVING ONLY THE SOUND OF THE CRACKLING OF THE BRUSH,  AS HE BOUNDED OVER THE BRUSH FENCE THAT SURROUNDED THE LITTLE CLEARING. BEFORE THE EARLY DAWN, WILLIAM SHEA WALKED QUIETLY HOME, SLIGHTLY DISAPPOINTED, YET WITH A THRILL OF A RARE EXPERIENCE, AND A REALIZATION OF THE PERFECTION OF THE PLANT OF THE MAKER FOR THE PRESERVATION OF ALL HIS CREATURES."

Pioneer Burial and A Long Walk To The Cemetery; What Is Really Spooky About Historical Coincidence?

-THE MUSKOKA PIONEER, DEATH AND BURIAL - AND THE FOLKLORE IT HERALDED

"THE BURIAL OF A PIONEER"

     "THEY WASHED THEIR BODIES SO WHITE AND CLEAN, THOSE MEN OF THE PIONEER DAYS; THEIR BLOOD THEY LEFT TO SET IN THEIR VEINS, IT WAS THEIRS AND IT IS THERE TO STAY," WROTE FAMILY HISTORIAN, BERT SHEA, IN AUGUST 1962. THE POEM WOULD LATER BE PUBLISHED IN "THE COMING OF THE SHEAS, AND BIRTH OF A TOWNSHIP."

      AN AMBITIOUS HISTORIAN, WITH KEEN INTEREST IN PIONEER TRADITIONS, COULD WRITE A FAIRLY THICK BOOK ON THE TRADITIONS, OF PIONEER FUNERALS, AND THE FOLKLORE, THAT GENERATED FROM MORTAL ILLNESSES, DEATHS, VIEWING, BURIALS AND WAKES, ON THE ONTARIO HOMESTEADS OF THE 1800'S. THERE ARE MANY FASCINATING STORIES DEALING WITH PIONEER FUNERALS, THAT GO BEYOND THE BOUNDS OF FUNERARY PROTOCOLS AND THE MORTAL PROCESS OF GRIEVING AND RECOVERY. BERT SHEA HANDLES THIS QUITE EFFECTIVELY, IN THIS SHORT FOLK STORY, PRESENTED AS A POEM.

     "THEY COMBED THEIR HAIR AND FOLDED THEIR HANDS, THEIR EYES THEY CLOSED WITH CARE; AND A CLEAN PRESSED VEST THEY GIRDED ON, AND COMBED OVER THEIR WHISKERS THERE. IN THE CASKET MADE FROM CLEAN WHITE PINE, THE CHOICE FROM THE FOREST GROVE, WITH PINS OF OAK TO JOIN IN TIGHT, BY STROKES OF THE HAMMER DROVE.

     "SO THEY LAID HIM THERE, TO REST IN PEACE, WHILE THEY YEARS IN HURRY FLY; TILL THE DAY WHERE EARTH AND TIME SHALL CEASE; TO WAKE AT THE TRUMPET'S CRY. AND THERE HIS IS RESTING IN SILENCE LONG, HIS SLUMBER UNMARRED BY THE CLAY, THE STORMS PASS ON, THE SEASONS CHANGE, AND THE WILD FLOWERS SPRING WITH MAY. BUT STILL THERE IS A MURMUR AT EVENTIDE, AS THE BREEZES WHISPER LOW, AND MEMORY STEALS O'ER THE GRASSY SPOT, AS SOFTLY, AS THE FALL OF THE SNOW. THEY HAVE LAID HIM THERE WITH LOVING CARE, AND THEIR TEAR DROPS, DAMPENED THE SOD; AS THE GOOD MAN COMMENDED HIS BODY TO EARTH, BUT HIS SOUL, IS AT REST WITH HIS GOD."

     THANKS TO BERT SHEA, SOME OF THESE CRITICALLY IMPORTANT OBSERVATIONS, OF PIONEER DEATHS AND FUNERALS HAVE BEEN PRESERVED, THAT PAINT A PORTRAIT OF THOSE EMOTIONAL EVENTS. FEW OTHER HISTORIANS FOUND THEM TO BE RELEVANT, UNLESS THEY WERE FUNERALS OF COMMUNITY LEADERS AND POLITICIANS. HERE IS AN EXAMPLE OF HOW THIS MUSKOKA HISTORIAN, PORTRAYED THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF A THREE YEAR OLD CHILD IN THE UFFORD SETTLEMENT, VERY EARLY IN ITS HAMLET HISTORY.

     IT IS CONTAINED IN THE SECTION CAPTIONED, "COMING OF THE MORLEYS."NEWS OF THE ARRIVAL OF THE FIRST SON TO PIONEER PARENTS IN THE VILLAGE, AND IN WATT (TOWNSHIP OF PRESENT MUSKOKA LAKES), WAS RECEIVED WITH JOY BY ALL INHABITANTS, AND NEEDLESS TO SAY, HE WAS THE CENTRE OF INTEREST. BUT JOY DOES NOT ALWAYS REIGN AND OFT TIMES GREAT SORROW FOLLOWS CLOSE AT HAND, AND THE LITTLE COMMUNITY WAS SMITTEN BY SHOCK AND SORROW, WHEN THE LITTLE THREE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER OF THE SUFFERNS, WHILE AT PLAY BY ACCIDENT, FELL INTO THE CAMPFIRE AND LATER DIED OF BURNS.

     "EVERY EXPRESSION OF TENDER SYMPATHY WAS EXTENDED TO THE SORROWING PARENTS. LITTLE THERE WAS THAT COULD BE DONE; LITTLE THEY, THE HUMBLE PIONEERS HAD TO DO WITH, BUT TENDER HANDS PREPARED THE LITTLE BODY FOR BURIAL. JOHN L. SHEA, WHO ALWAYS SEEMED TO FILL THE PLACE OF THE NEED, MADE FROM THE WHITE PINE BOARDS, CLEAN AND SMOOTH, AND FASTENED THEM TOGETHER WITH FINE OAK PINS TO FORM THE LITTLE CASKET. NO, DEAR READER, THERE WERE NO NAILS OR SAWN LUMBER IN HER NEAT LITTLE BOX LINED WITH THE BEST THEY HAD, AND HER HEAD LAID ON A PILLOW OF DOWN. SHE WAS GIVEN CHRISTIAN BURIAL TRUE; THERE WERE NO CLERGYMEN PRESENT, BUT THE MEMBERS OF THE COMMUNITY GATHERED ABOUT THE LITTLE GRAVE SURROUNDING THE PARENTS, AND ONE WHO THERE ALWAYS IS, TO FILL THE NEED, STOOD BY HER HEAD AND IN TREMBLING VOICE DECLARED THE WORDS OF THE MASTER FROM THE OLD BOOK. 'I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE. HE THAT BELIEVETH IN ME, THOUGH HE WERE DEAD, YET SHALL HE LIVE,' AND THEN THEIR VOICE ROSE IN PRAYERFUL SONG; 'ABIDE WITH ME,' THEN THE PRAYER FOR COMFORT AND CONSIDERATION TO THE SORROWING AND ABIDING PRESENCE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT WITH ONE AND ALL, AMEN'."

     THE AUTHOR WRITES, "HEADS THAT WERE BOWED AND EYES THAT WERE DIMMED, ROSE TO VIEW THE HILLS THAT SEEMED TO STAND IN SILENT REVERENCE, AND LASTING WITNESS TO SORROWING COMMUNITY, AS THEY TURNED FROM THE GRAVESIDE. LITTLE GROUPS GATHERED TO TALK QUIETLY, SOME HELD THE HANDS OF THE PARENTS AND LED THEM GENTLY AWAY FROM THE GRAVE, THOUGH THE SUN SHONE BRIGHTLY, A DARK CLOUD HUNG HEAVILY OVER THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE OF THE COMMUNITY. THAT WAS NOT TO BE FORGOTTEN, EVEN IN OLD AGE, AS JOHN L.SHEA RELATED TO THE WRITER AS MUCH OF THE ACCOUNT AS WE KNOW. THERE WAS YET REMAINING IN HIS MANNER THE TRUE INDICATION OF THE SADNESS OF THE WHOLE AFFAIR; BUT THE WRITER REGRETS TO SAY HE FAILED TO ASK THE OLD VENERABLE THE EXACT PLACE OF HER GRAVE AND AT THIS DATE, THERE IS NONE ALIVE TO ASK; ALL WHO KNEW ARE NUMBERED BY MANY YEARS AMONG THE NOBLE DEAD, AND THE PLACE OF THE LITTLE GRAVE SHALL TO US REMAIN UNKNOWN."

     AS QUOTED EFORE IN THIS BLOG, FROM BERT'S SECOND BOOK, PIONEERS WOULD LATER BECOME VERY FAMILIAR WITH THE SOUND OF THE HORSE HOOVES, THE WHEELS OF THE HEARSE, AND THE DIM FLICKER OF LANTERN FLAMES, IN THE BLACK OF NIGHT, COMING ALONG THE COUNTRY LANE, TO DEAL WITH A HOMESTEAD DEATH. IT WAS NECESSARY, IN THE CASE OF CONTAGIOUS ILLNESSES, LIKE DYPHTHERIA, TO BURY THE BODIES LATE AT NIGHT, TO AVOID HAVING ANY CURIOUS CITIZENS ATTEND THE GRAVE-SITE. THE BODIES WERE STILL POTENTIAL SOURCES OF CONTAMINATION, AND EVEN THE GRAVEDIGGERS AND UNDERTAKER WERE AT SERIOUS RISK OF CONTRACTING THE DISEASE. MANY FOLK STORIES DEVELOPED SURROUNDING THESE "MIDNIGHT" BURIALS, AND THE FEAR-INSPIRING SOUNDS OF THE WAGON WHEELS AND CLOMPING OF HOOVES, PASSING THEIR HOMESTEADS. IT CREATED GREAT ANTICIPATION ABOUT WHO HAD SUCCUMBED, OF THEIR FAMILY, FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS. THESE WERE THE SOUNDS AND EVENTS OF UNFOLDING HORROR, AND THERE WERE THOSE WHO CLAIMED TO HAVE SEEN THE HORSE-DRAWN HEARSE PASS THEM, ON THE ROAD, ONLY TO FIND OUT THEY HAD WITNESSED A PHANTOM UNDERTAKER.....WHEN THEY FOUND NO REPORTS OF ANY HOUSEHOLD REQUIRING THESE SERVICES. IT'S NOT DIFFICULT TO IMAGINE, WHY THESE EVENTS AND SCENES, A SILHOUETTE IN THE MOONLIGHT OVER THE RURAL CLIME, WOULD INSPIRE GHOST STORIES AND CREATE FOLK TALES SHARED BETWEEN NEIGHBORS, AND THE GENERATIONS.

     "THAT FAIR YOUNG MAIDEN OF THE CLAN, THE SWEETEST OF THEM ALL, THAT DEATH'S COLD HAND TO LAY ON HER, SHE WOULD BE GONE BY FALL; HER PARENTS CRIED WITH BROKEN HEARTS TO THEIR GOD ON HIGH, TO SPARE THEIR DAUGHTER, THEIR YOUNGEST CHILD, ERE THEY IN SORROW SHOULD DIE. BUT HER GOD HAD OTHER PLANS FOR HER, AND HE FOR HER DID PREPARE; HE TOOK HER FROM THIS WORLD OF WOE, TO BE WITH HIM UP THERE; HE TOOK HER FROM THEIR LOVING ARMS, INTO HIS TENDER CARE. THERE IN THE SILENT NIGHT OF JUNE, IN THE CABIN BY CANDLE GLOW, HER BODY LAY COLD AND STILL, HER BROW AS FAIR AS THE SNOW; THE NEIGHBORS CAME FROM EVERYWHERE, AND BROUGHT FLOWERS KIND; TO SHARE THE GRIEF OF THEIR DEAR FRIENDS, IN THE EARLY SUMMER-TIME. BY JIM AND ALMIRA SHEA THEIR SORROW BORE; THEY KNEW THEIR DAUGHTER IN A BETTER LAND, ON THAT CELESTIAL SHORE, HER SUFFERING O'ER, SHE AWAITS ON THE GOLDEN STRAND." (THE POEM, "MARIA SHEA," WRITTEN IN RESPECT TO THE FIVE YEAR OLD'S DEATH AND BURIAL, IN A CEMETERY, IN THE HAMLET OF FALKENBURG.)

     THERE IS AN INTERESTING OVERVIEW, OF ANOTHER DEATH IN THE THREE MILE LAKE HAMLET, THAT I THOUGHT IMPORTANT TO INCLUDE IN TODAY'S BLOG ABOUT DEATH AND BURIAL. GEORGE HOLDICH, AN UPSTANDING GENTLEMAN, HOMESTEADING IN THE AREA, HAD GONE OUT FISHING ON THREE MILE LAKE, IN ORDER TO PROVIDE FOOD FOR HIS FAMILY. THEY WERE STRUGGLING PIONEERS, AND AS MANY HOMESTEAD EXPERIENCED IN THOSE EARLY YEARS, AGRICULTURAL SUCCESS WAS LIMITED TO NON-EXISTENT.....HARDLY ENOUGH TO SUSTAIN THE NEEDS OF A FAMILY. IT'S WHY THE LOGGING INDUSTRY PROVED TO BE A WINTER AND SPRING BOON TO THE HOMESTEAD ECONONMY. IN THIS CASE, HOWEVER, THE GOOD MR. HOLDICH UPSET HIS CANOE, AND WAS FOUND FLOATING NEARBY, ON A SEARCH CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM SHEA. IT SEEMED A GALE HAD MET THE LONE PADDLER, AND CAPSIZED HIS HANDMADE CANOE. AS IT WAS STILL COLD, IN APRIL, THE MAN HAD BEEN WEARING HEAVY CLOTHING, WHICH WEIGHED HIM DOWN WHEN HE ENTERED THE WATER. WHEN WILLIAM FOUND THE BODY, HE TOWED IT TO A BEACHFRONT, AND BECAUSE HE HAD TO SECURE LAWFUL ASSISTANCE, TO DEAL WITH THE ACCIDENTAL DEATH, HE HAD TO POUND A STAKE INTO THE GROUND, AND ATTACH A ROPE TO IT AND TO THE BODY, SO THAT IT WOULDN'T DRIFT AWAY. THE WATER WOULD TEMPORARILY PRESEVE THE BODY'S CONDITION. THE SAME THING WAS DONE TO CANADIAN LANDSCAPE ARTIST, TOM THOMSON, WHEN HIS BODY WAS FOUND IN ALGONQUIN PARK'S CANOE LAKE, IN JULY 1917.

     WHAT BOTHERED WILLIAM, AND FAMILY, WAS THAT MR. HOLDICH'S DROWNING DEATH, WHILE BAD ENOUGH, DESTINED HIS YOUNG FAMILY TO GREAT SUFFERING, AS HE WAS THEIR PROVIDER. BERT SHEA WRITES, "THIS TRAGEDY CAUSED A SHROUD OF GLOOM TO FALL OVER THE COMMUNITY, AS GEORGE HOLDICH WAS A MAN OF VERY FINE QUALITIES. BELOVED BY ALL, ESPECIALLY THE SHEAS. A MAN WHO WAS STRUGGLING AS THEY TO FEED THEIR CHILDREN, IN A LAND AND A DAY WHEE THERE WAS NONE TO SPARE; AND NO SOCIAL LEGISLATION IN FORCE. UNNUMBERED AND UNKNOWN ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE WOODS WHO ARE LEFT IN THEIR COMFORTABLE HOME NEST, WHILE THEIR MOTHER GOES OUT TO SEEK FOOD FOR HERSELF AND HER FAMILY, BUT NEVER RETURNS, HAVING FALLEN PREY TO SOME EVIL BEAST OR BIRD OF THE DAY, OR NIGHT, WHEN HUMAN FAMILIES ARE LEFT WITHOUT THEIR SOURCE OF SUPPORT, THIS HAS BEEN THE LOT OF FAR TOO MANY OF OUR PIONEER FAMILIES, WHO LIVED AND FELT THE CHILLING WINDS OF LIFE IN BODY AND MIND, OR DIED OVERCOME IN THE STRUGGLE."

     ON THE UPBEAT SIDE, BERT SHEA CONCLUDES, "HOWEVER, THROUGH IT ALL, THE HOLDICH FAMILY CARRIED ON THROUGH THE HARD AND TRYING TIMES AND IN LATER DAYS HAVE BEEN NUMBERED AMONG THE SUCCESSFUL AND INDEPENDENT PEOPLE OF THIS, OUR BELOVED AREA."

     DEATH AND BURIAL IN THE DAYS OF STRUGGLING HOMESTEADS, WERE PROFOUNDLY SPIRITFUL COMMUNITY EVENTS, AND TRADITIONS THAT RAN DEEP TO THE CORE OF NEIGHBORHOOD VALUES......SUCH THAT EVERYONE WAS IMPACTED, AND THRUST INTO MOURNING....BECAUSE IT WAS SEEN AS GOD'S WILL......THE RESULT, POSSIBLY, OF THEIR MORAL, RELIGIOUS FAILINGS. THESE WERE BLOWS TO THE WELFARE OF THE COMMUNITY GENERALLY, AND GIVEN A PROFOUND LEVEL OF RESPECT; JUST AS MUCH AS IT INSPIRED FEAR ABOUT WHAT MIGHT LAY AHEAD FOR THE MOST VULNERABLE....OF WHICH THEY COUNTED THEMSELVES IN THAT NUMBER. BERT SHEA HAS CLEARLY SHOWN THIS IN HIS POEMS AND OVERVIEWS OF THESE FUNERARY EVENTS.

A FEELING FOR HISTORY I CAN'T EXPLAIN

A PREVIOUS LIFE? MAYBE! BUT WHAT A CRAZY ADVENTURE

     I WILL STOP ALL OF A SUDDEN, BUT SOMEWHAT EXPECTED ON MY HISTORIC WALKS, TRUNDLING THROUGH THE OLD LOG BUILDINGS, WHEN BRUSHED EVER SO GENTLY, BY THAT HAUNTING FEELING, I NEED TO PAY ATTENTION TO MY SURROUNDINGS.....VERY MUCH AS IF I HAVE BEEN HERE BEFORE IN A PREVIOUS LIFE. WE ALL HAVE THESE FEELINGS. WE CAN'T EXPLAIN THEM, WE JUST HAVE A LITTLE SHIVER, MAKE AN ANECDOTAL COMMENT LIKE, "SOMEONE JUST WALKED OVER MY GRAVE," AND CARRY-ON, OCCASIONALLY LOOKING BACK.....AS IF EXPECTING TO SEE A GHOST. I'M SURE YOU'VE HAD SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAPPEN TO YOU. IT'S PROBABLY NOT ENOUGH TO WARRANT CONTACTING A GHOST BUSTER, OR A RESEARCHER OF THE PARANORMAL, BUT IT WILL STILL STICK WITH YOU FOR AWHILE AS A BELIEVE IT OR NOT.

    I WILL HAVE ABOUT FOUR OF THESE SITUATIONS, WHILE WALKING THE GROUNDS AND BUILDINGS OF STE. MARIE, AMONGST THE HURONS, IN MIDLAND, THE RECLAIMED SITE OF THE 1600'S JESUIT MISSION, THAT ENDED BADLY FOR THE MISSIONARIES AND ASSISTANTS. OF ALL THE HISTORIC SITES I'VE VISITED, INCLUDING IN ENGLAND AND UNITED STATES, THE MOST COMPELLING BY FAR, FOR ME, IS THE JESUIT MISSION. IT'S NOT A FEARFUL FEELING, BUT RATHER, A SENSE OF BELONGING TO THE HISTORY OF THIS REMARKABLE ACREAGE OF HURONIA LANDSCAPE, A SHORT WALK TO THE FAMOUS MARTYRS SHRINE, ONCE VISITED BY THE POPE.

     WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME WHY I HAVE MADE A LIFE, AND PROFESSION FROM HISTORY, I CAN'T REALLY ANSWER WITH ONE LIMITED-WORD RESPONSE. I CAN'T EXPLAIN WHY I HAVE ALSO SPENT A LIFETIME BEING COMPANIONED BY SPIRITS, I SEEM TO BE ABLE TO DRAW OUT OF THE STRANGEST PLACES.....AND CIRCUMSTANCES. IN A NUTSHELL, I AM DRAWN TO PLACES WITH HISTORIC AURAS, AND PATINAS OF PAST LIVES AND TIMES. WRITING RECENTLY ABOUT GRANNY BOWERS, A MUSKOKA PIONEER, WHO LIVED IN BOTH FALKENBURG, AND ON THE FRASERBURG ROAD, IN BRACEBRIDGE, AND THEN THE ICELANDIC SETTLERS WHO ARRIVED IN OUR REGION IN THE 1870'S, I HAVE FELT DRAWN INTO THEIR LIVES FROM THE VERY FIRST HOUR I BEGAN READING THEIR JOURNALS.

    BOTH THESE STORIES HAVE BEEN VERY INFLUENTIAL FOR ME, OVER A LENGTHY CAREER STUDYING AND WRITING ABOUT LOCAL HISTORY. I AM TRULY ABLE TO WALK INTO THE LIVES OF THESE OLD SOULS, AND EXPERIENCE WHAT THEY HAD TO DEAL WITH DURING THESE FRONTIER YEARS.....WHICH FRANKLY MAKE MANY HARDSHIPS TODAY, SEEM MUCH LESS SIGNIFICANT. CONTEMPORARIES WILL ARGUE THAT THE HARDSHIPS EXPERIENCED NOW ARE PROPORTIONAL TO THE ERA, AND THUS EACH PERIOD DEALT WITH ITS CHALLENGES ACCORDINGLY. SOME WILL SUGGEST THAT IT WOULD BE AN UNFAIR SITUATION, TO PUT TODAY'S YOUNGSTERS IN THE PIONEER ENCAMPMENTS, LIKE HEKKLA CIRCA 1873; EQUALLY SO, TO PUT SETTLERS INTO THE PRESENT WORLD ENVIRONS. TRUE ENOUGH. I STILL BELIEVE IT WAS MUCH MORE DIFFICULT THEN THAN TODAY, TO HURDLE SO MUCH, SO FREQUENTLY, JUST TO SURVIVE.

FROM THE ARCHIVES

   

LIVING THE LIFE - ONE ERA TO ANOTHER WITHOUT TOO MUCH CHAGRIN

     I am just one of millions of folks who dwells.....or better stated, dawdles in the past, by choice. I feel comfortable wandering around historic buildings, and houses, and museums that subtly and gently, take me on adventures I hadn't even thought of, before entering the site. I do feel paranormal activity in a lot of these interesting places, either from the buildings, or from the artifacts and antiques in the collections. I'm never repelled by these situations, although I have talked to many visitors who dislike these strange interventions. As a former manager of Woodchester Villa and Musuem in Bracebridge, which is the octagonal former home of woollen mill founder, Henry J. Bird, the paranormal was just a day to day reality of the marvellous 1880's house, overlooking the rapids of the Bracebridge Falls. Some members of staff didn't like the ghostly, spirited stuff, but the older volunteers and guides couldn't have cared less about apparitions or anything else malevolent.      I didn't find the house threatening, just occupied by the family history of which it was perfectly entitled. I have sensed paranormal entities in dozens upon dozens of older homes I've visited, but I didn't make a habit of telling the hosts their humble, nicely appointed abodes were haunted. Maybe they knew or didn't care.

     When it comes to the reasons why I imbed myself in history, it comes down to the comfortable feeling and the reward of reliving it, that keeps me delving further and seeking out new avenues to stroll. I don't ever go anywhere seeking out ghosts specifically. I do head out on my travels around Muskoka, looking to be immersed in history, and since I worked on the creation of the Bracebridge Historical Society, and Woodchester Villa, back in the late 1970's, I've never been without a hand in some heritage project. This has included a stint as director of the Muskoka Lakes Museum in Port Carling, and Curator of the Bracebridge Sports Hall of Fame at the Memorial Arena. I've been in the antique trade since I was twenty, and had my first shop in Bracebridge, at 22. I just like the feeling of old stuff.....but when I say that to my partner Suzanne, the scorn sears through my soul. So I don't make jokes about age. Her birthday is tomorrow and I'm thinking about buying her something......old. Like me, she's hooked on antiques. Sewing materials, quilts and hand-made items in particular. So there you go. Antique dealers give each other antiques for special occasions. Thus, birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas can get pretty expensive. In regards to supply and demand, antiques are pricey.

     There's something powerful about holding a painting that is one hundred and fifty years old, or a quilt that was made by a group of village women by the light of an oil lamp, in a drafty old farmhouse. There's is a definite aura attached to fine lace work done by a pioneer, carried over as tradition, from a long line of crafters from Europe. I have handled a sampler from the 1770's, and felt the imprint of the letter press, from the same vintage, in one of my many old books, some that have dated as far back, as 1602.......which was a goat skin covered German Bible, that I purchased from a former bookbinder who worked for Hunter-Rose in her youth. I have felt the strong, positive aura, holding onto Irvin "Ace" Bailey's skates, and Roger Crozier's goal stick, from the 1966 Stanley Cup playoffs, both of which I was once in charge, as hockey collection curator. Arguably, some people don't care about provenance. They wouldn't feel a spirit if it bit them on the forehead. That's okay. It's not imperative to feel the presence of the other side, still wandering the earth. But it is part of my profession, as a writer / historian, and antique dealer. Every one of our family members knows what it means when someone in our company says, "It spoke to me. I had to have it." It doesn't mean there was a ghost rider attached. It does mean, there was a vibe we couldn't avoid or neglect. I've brought home a lot of things like that, and yes, some of the items did have ghosts attached......if you believe in ghosts in the first place.

     I don't live in a haunted house. It's just mildly enchanted. I don't seek out haunted houses, buildings, fields or forests. We just kind of find each other, and the same can be said for items touched by the paranormal. Which leads me back to places like Ste. Marie, where I could actually live.....if they'd let me.....and I'd feel as if I'm home again. Was I a Jesuit Missionary in a former life? Maybe the builder of the structures, or chap in charge of the community gardens? Maybe the paddler of the birch bark canoes? Digging the outhouse holes? But if you are reading this, and you've got this far in the copy, I'm willing to bet you have had similar experiences, and made note of where and why, and the frequency. The deja-vu situation. The "I must have been in this place during another life." "Say, that smells like apple pie baking...like the ones my mother used to make." Yet there is not an oven in the vicinity, or a restaurant. The smell of your grandmother's flower garden, you remember from playing around it, during your childhood. When some sensory influence comes along, out of thin air, surely you ponder, even if you are a disbeliever, if there is a chance the deceased are trying to remind you of something?

    A lot of misunderstanding about this comes from the fact that Hollywood has established, in hundreds of depictions on film, what they and their art departments, believe ghosts look like, and what it is like to have a paranormal experience. The kind of ghostly encounters I've had, wouldn't make very good movies. There are no thunder storms and lightning when I visit with paranormal circumstance. I don't need an eerie moss-covered Victorian mansion, or any murder or bloodshed to feel elevated to communication with the dearly departed. It's all very casual and innocent, but whenever it happens, and wherever the message or reminder comes along, I take the time to ponder just what this could have been. It's true. Some times I do find a baking pie in the oven. Suzanne makes good pies. If the scent arrives while on a cross country hike, or in the middle of the night, after a cursory look for a source, I just say hello to all the family members who have passed, and who had invited me into their kitchens, as a youngster, or young man, to visit.    There are reasons for feeling this way, and science would explain it differently than those who subscribe to life after death. There are mediums, like John Edward, who might suggest someone who has passed, is trying to get a message to you or assistance from you, to extend the message to another person or acquaintance. As John Edward indicates that it is important to validate these messages, I have been doing this my whole life anyway, with some pretty interesting results. Whether I'm talking to thin air or not, who cares. If people see me talking to myself, or talking into the void of thin air, out into a field of wildflowers, in a forest glen, or in an otherwise empty attic, then they can think what they wish. I've had others approach me, at an historic site for example, and say, "did you feel that?" "Sure did. Did you smell the cinnamon?" The fresh baking from the cook's handiwork, when no kitchen was in operation? I love this sensory perception stuff. I am always so entertained to involve myself in heritage projects that are thusly enhanced by curious paranormal activity, and keep in mind that this doesn't mean ghosts and wee beasties criss-crossing. It can be as simple as a touch on the back or shoulder, as if your mother or father is guiding you along a path, or hallway, to show you they are with you.....in life and spirit. It can be an aroma you recall from childhood, or a special place you attended, that makes you remember a family time or member, and their reactions. You can brush it off like many do, and never mention the experience. Or you can validate the experience and intervention, as a sign from those who have departed, trying to get you to remember something you may have forgotten.....about your relationship with them in life.

     Here's an experience I had this week. Maybe when you read it, you'll say, "oh that's nothing.....just coincidence." I suppose if it happened once in a while, that might be the case. If it happens as frequently as it happens to me, it's an existence I depend on to get my work done. Let me explain.

     I have been working on a future feature blog and video, to recognize the 150th anniversary of the naming of the Gravenhurst Post Office, in 1862, by William Dawson LeSueur, in honor of the settlers here, and the British writer / poet, William Henry Smith, after his book that year, "Gravenhurst; or Thoughts on Good and Evil." I have a series of blogs and a video ready for the first of August. What I didn't have was the rough notes and photographs I had, when I first did the project back in the late 1990's. It was looking pretty bad when the historian / archivist couldn't find all his notes for a project a week away. For days and days I had a nagging feeling, I had to move a church pew on our front verandah, and take it to the store. Suzanne and I have had an emotional debate about the pew for several years. She's okay with selling it, but I'm a little reluctant, seeing as it was special to her mother Harriet (Shea) Stripp. Seems odd that Suzanne feels it isn't important, as an heirloom piece, but I do. Harriet always liked me. Before she passed, shortly after Suzanne and I were married, she gave me a few very important historical documents and books, relevant to her family, which we still possess. The most important, was the first Muskoka history, written by Thomas McMurray, published as a Settler's Guidebook in 1871. I know every word in the book by now. It had belonged to Harriet's father John Shea, of Ufford, in the Three Mile Lake area, of the present Township of Muskoka Lakes.

     The pew was rescued from the former United Church in the hamlet of Ufford, just before it was torn down. The pew was kept in storage for many years at our family cottage on Lake Rosseau, and when Suzanne and I lived there after we were married, I insisted on having the pew on the second floor, along the railing of the staircase. Suzanne was working at the Windermere Golf Club, the day I decided to haul it out of the basement, and carry it up the hillside, and through the cottage, up the stairs by myself. I won't kid you. I nearly died doing it, and Suzanne was furious that I did it without help. Harriet was encouraged about her new history-loving son-in-law, and told me all about the pew. When the cottage was being sold, Suzanne's father gave us the pew to bring home, and it was at one side of the harvest table for most of a decade. When we changed tables, the pew looked foolish, and we took it out for awhile, and stuck it rather unceremoniously on the deck. We even tried to sell it last year at a yard sale. No one had a room for a pew. So it wintered back on the deck.

     Suzanne gave me instructions to ship it up to the boys' store this week, and I must admit many reservations. I sort of owed it to Harriet to hang onto the pew for some reason. Strange enough this week, I got the feeling it was time to follow through, and regain our deck for use. The pew clogged it up, with our other more comfortable chairs. Having ignored the urges for three days, I finally got to the point, I had to move the ten foot long bench, that particular moment.....as if I was being told by something beyond, to get the job done now! So without help, I moved it off the deck, and by myself into the driveway. When son Andrew emerged, and yelled at me for trying to kill myself, "by pew moving," he asked if there was anything else he could help me with. I asked if he could please move the piano bench, also on the deck, that had also once been on the second floor of the Windermere cottage. He yelled back at me that there were many papers in the bench, and it was too heavy to move with them inside. I went to have a look, and there they were......ninety percent of my William Henry Smith papers. Only that morning, son Robert, who is my videographer for the William Henry Smith project, was worried about my delays, finding the graphics of Smith and LeSueur, that are supposed to be included in the video, he's been trying to wrap-up. Did Harriet lead me to the cache of resources that I needed on that precise day? You bet she did! She was a lover of history, and she would have known how mad I was, at misplacing the files. If I hadn't moved that pew, in the first place, I would not have looked in the piano bench. In fact, moving the pew allowed me the first access to the bench in over a year. I didn't have a clue how my files got in the bench. Suzanne may have been house cleaning and filed, what she hates of my clutter around Birch Hollow.

     As for the pew? I don't know if I can sell this Muskoka / Windermere heirloom, after quite a number of strange occurrences, of which it has played a part since I married into the family.

     Another strange aspect of this pew, may be the association to another interest she had in the United Church she remembered as a child. It was the fact she penned a list of all those who had been buried in the tiny cemetery, situated beside the old church, with one special inclusion she never fully researched.....but had wanted to find out about. She had learned that one of the congregation had been a veteran of the American Civil War, fighting as a Canadian, for either the North or the South. We gave the information, some years ago, to local Civil War historian, Tom Brooks, of Gravenhurst, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't conclude if the deceased veteran had actually been a participant, but there had been men with that name who had been enlisted.

     Suzanne will tell me that it won't fit behind our new dining room table, and I will argue that we may one day get another table, and an extended family to fill in the space availability. It will of course be another area for the cats to occupy when I want to sit down, and it will collect dust and need regular maintenance to keep in good condition. But for both of us, it will also serve to remind us, of pioneer faith, charity, neighborliness, and durability......like our marriage, to last through all kinds of events and challenges, and obstacles that are part of this grand and to-be-cherished mortal coil.

     Maybe we will sell it, or maybe not. We will let Harriet decide. I think she's already spoken, in that soft heavenly way, that we should do what we feel is right. Spirits aren't too interested afterall, in material things, like old church pews from once upon a time.

     Thanks for joining today's blog. Please visit again soon.