The Homestead
The little window where the sun came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon, nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night had borne my breath away!
Poetry by Thomas Hood
The Year 1935---Welcome! In the following lines I recall a June morning in the village of Brig Bay, Newfoundland, during the mid 1930s. I was anticipating a visit to my grandfather's home, but my sister introduced me to my community and other incidents as observed through the eyes of an inquisitive two-year old plus, boy.
On this warm summer morning my twelve year old sister, Judy, took me for a walk. As we ambled along I remember being attracted to the flowers growing by the roadside, and especially those tall plants around the homestead premises. I wanted to stop and touch them, but my sister wouldn't let me near the colorful blossoms because of the activity of the bees around them. Sister was patiently holding the hand of her little brother, holding him when he stumbled, on what was, perhaps, my first public stroll. After leaving the house of my father, William James Hoddinott, we first came by Mr Lawless's house on the left, as was Uncle Fred's house, then we walked down a lane toward the main road, and to Grandfather's, Frederick White Hoddinott's house; here we would stop and visit.
We entered through the back kitchen, an annex built unto the main structure and generally used as kitchen/living room during the summer months. The back kitchen was now occupied by a man who had been a shareman with Grandfather in the cod fishery. Mr Spingle was presently in the process of building his house. Only his wife was at home this morning, a gentle and kindly woman who was busy at the cooking stove. The women chatted awhile and then sister opened the door to the main house and let me go inside. The curtains were drawn; everything was shady and in order. I seemed to sense that the house was vacant, and was disappointed to find that my grandparents were not at home. I think that my sister, making conversation as we walked, had remarked that we would call at Grandfather's house, and I had assumed that they would be there.
Afterwards, we walked along the main road that skirts the harbor waters. We passed by the extensive Sheppard fishing premesis, which had been built by my great grandfather, Thomas Henry Sheppard; after he died in 1915, the business was continued by his son, Uncle Kenneth. My great grandfather Sheppard also had three daughters. Grandfather Hoddinott married Rosanna, Uncle Jonas Jackman married Sarah Jane and Uncle John Allingham married Mary Catherine. Next to the Sheppard property was the Allingham's house. We met their daughter, Miriam, who remarked that I was a lovely little boy; I remember appreciating the attention. Uncle Jonas Jackman's property was next. He had been a successful fisherman and businessman; he was also the Postmaster, and the Telegraph station operated from his premesis. Farther along lay the Wells premesis, James and sons, Fred and Ken; they were general fishermen who also operated a lobster canning factory. Then there were the family names of, Jacob Cunard, Uncle James Samson, Uncle Albert Hoddinott, Tom and Cora Payne, Bobby Spingle and Uncle Henry's house; his wife Elsie was the telegraph operator.
...Yawn...it had been a long walk for me. The sun had been hot and I probably became tired, or sleepy; I have no recollection of the walk back to our home. Its likely I was napping contentedly on my sister's shoulder, as she carried me patiently back to our home.
I remember the time when my Grandmother Samson died. The Samson family lived at Daniels Harbor, but after Grandfather Samson died, Grandmother came to Brig Bay and lived with her daughter, Elsie. I remember her death as being in the late fall; I would be about three, then. Our family, along with other relatives gathered at Uncle Henry's and Aunt Elsie's house where Grandmother's body lay. There were the appropriate prayers for the occasion and then a numbver of hymns were sung. After the service the families sat around and visited a while.
About midnight the families expressed their feelings as they bade Grandmother goodby, and then we left to walk back to our homes. Grandmother's casket was shipped on the coastal boat to Daniels Harbor and they laid her to rest beside her husband in the cemetery there.
My Dad carrieded me, wrapped in a blanket, while Mom carried my little sister, as our family were walking the distance back to our home. The moon was shining brighly and the stars twinked in the clear sky; I had never seen such a display...but eventially I snuggled down into the warmth of my blanket and fell asleep.
When I awoke the sun was shining through the bedroom window, I felt relaxed. But then I noticed that the bedroom door was closed and there was no sound in the house; I felt all alone in the world: I cried out my fear. The door opened and my sister stood there, smiling, sensing my fear, "What a sleepy-head you are," she chided me, cheerfully, "I'll get your breakfast ready for you now."
I settled back in bed, my fears flew away; I was contented, happy; I thought, my mom and dad, my brothers and sisters loves me, they will never abandon me, but will always stand by me. How blessed I am.
Love never fails. ...When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. ...When I became a man I put childish ways behind me.
New International Version. 1 Corinthians 13.8
I used to think their slender tops were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance, but now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heav'n than when I was a boy.
Poetry by Thomas Hood
Link to welcome:click here.
Updated June 8, 2006.