Our First Xmas Tree

by Celia LeDrew

Christmas Eve 1929 the temperature was 7 below and the sky was cold and clear and there was lots of snow. It had snowed for three days and the snow crunched under your feet when you walked. My father had come home from work early that afternoon and talked to mama on the back porch before he came in to get a gun to go hunting or tomorrow’s Xmas dinner.

Papa always kept his guns strapped high on the wall so us kids couldn’t reach them. We watched as he took down a shot gun and he started out the door. He said to Mama as he left, “If I can’t get any partridge, I know I can get us a few rabbits”.

Mama was in the kitchen making dinner - she could make a meal out of almost nothing. She told us to go to the dining room window and watch for Papa to come home and hope he shot some Xmas dinner. My brother and I looked in to the sunset, the tops of the spruce trees silhouetted against the bright red sky looked just like a Christmas card. There was a little hill on the road and we saw something move on top of the hill. We yelled to Mama that Papa was coming. She came into the dining room to look. “That’s not your father, there’s two people there and your father went hunting alone”. She went back to the kitchen. My brother and I looked and looked, It must be Papa but who was with him? It was getting dark and we knew the figure we saw was too big too be Papa.

The next thing we knew there was Papa coming in through the back shed door with four rabbits. Mama was pleased as that was to be our Christmas dinner. After dinner, Papa lit a lantern and said he would clean and skin the rabbits so Mama could prepare them. When the shed door opened we saw something in the shed. A few minutes later Papa came in with a little three and a half foot fir tree. He had strapped the tree to his back and that is why we thought there was two people. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life, it was a lush green and every branch was even. I don’t think we had ever had such an exciting moment than that. All of us kids were yelling at one another, we were going to have a Christmas tree. The only Xmas tree we had ever seen before was at the Mayor’s house.
In these tough times not many people had them. Mama told us to get the dishes done and then we would decorate the tree. Everyone pitched in. We all knew we didn’t have any decorations and I wondered how we were going to decorate the tree. We finished the dishes and gathered together in the dining room. Mama came in with darning needles and a spool of thread. She gave me a bucket of cranberries we had picked earlier in the month and showed me how to string the berries.
My brother was given a pot full of popcorn. We’d never had popcorn before, it was a luxury. I watched my brother to see how much popcorn had on the string. He only had strung about a yard and my cranberry string looked about three yards. We were so excited and busy getting these done. I looked over at my brother and saw he was putting one popcorn kernel on the string and two in his mouth. I told Mama and she switched jobs. No one liked eating cranberries raw. When we finished Mama told us not to put them on the tree that she would do it. She strung the strands across the tree and stood back to look at it. She decided that it need something else. She gave my brother 10 cents and sent to the store to buy 10 cents worth of molasses candy kisses wrapped in Christmas paper and twisted on both ends. I tried to figure out how to put them on the tree.
Mama came back with the spool of thread and showed us how long to cut each piece of thread to tie on the twist of the candy and make a loop so it would catch on the branches. We thought it looked great as we sat by an open Franklin stove where we burned soft coal and the embers were glowing red. We sat admiring our first Christmas tree and we were excited as no one in town had one except the mayor. My brother and I thought it needed a star on top. We found an old cardboard shoe box that was so old it started to crumble when we cut it after we had drawn the outline of a star on it. As we were pasting it together my brother and I got into an argument about how many points should be on the star. My brother’s had four points and mine had five.
Mama, the referee said mine was the best, but that it was too big and I would have to cut it smaller. All the points must have been pasted about three or four times as we weren’t the best when it came to cutting with scissors. My brother said the star should be silver and we used to save the foil from cigarette packages when people threw them away, but it wouldn’t stay on the cardboard. Then we remembered that Mama always bought Red Rose in a one pound foil package and she put the whole package into the tea can. We dumped the loose tea directly into the can and absconded with the foil wrap. Two sides of the foil had Red Rose tea signs from end to end and we couldn’t pull them off or we would break the foil. We soaked the foil in warm water and we tried to it off with our fingernails. Mama was always there to rescue. She told us to use the inside of the package. Now we had to put it on the top of the tree. Mama told us she would put it on and out came the needle and thread again. She punched a hole in the bottom two points, but it just flopped over. This time Papa came to our rescue. He said he had some stove pipe wire out in the barn and that it bends easily. He lit the lantern, took his pliers and went to the barn.
Mama threaded the wire through the bottom of the star, but it still flopped over. Papa strung the wire from the bottom of the star to the top making it firm and at long last our star sat on the top of the tree like an angel. We couldn’t take our eyes off of the tree. To us it was the most beautiful Christmas tree in the whole world.

No one in our town had a Christmas tree. They couldn’t afford one. I had only ever seen one Christmas tree in my life. The mayor in our town had electricity in his house. They had four windows side by side in their living room and we could see it from the street decorated with red and green ropes, Christmas paper bells, gold, red and green balls. We knew we would never have a tree like that, only rich people had them. We had never asked for a Christmas tree because we knew we wouldn’t get it.

It didn’t take long to ask all the kids on our street to come see our tree. We were so proud of it. All the kids got a Candy Kiss, but not from the tree. Mama got the remainder of the bag of candy which was almost still full even after we had put them on the tree. All for 10 cents. From that year on we always had a Christmas tree and all our decorations were handmade. Mama could teach us everything that was possible under the conditions of the depression.

My father was earning $150.00 a month but when the depression hit, his boss told him he would have to let him go unless he was willing to work for $50.00 a month which he did and 10 cents for a spool of thread was a lot of money and we couldn’t waste one inch of it.

Mother's Blue Ribbon Cow

I was lucky to live in a resourceful family during the depression. We lived by the sea and my father was lucky to have his job, but he had to accept $50 a month, a third of his former salary. He was also an able hunter and fisherman. We had a small fishing boat to catch our own fish, so we had food on the table. We always had a barrel of salt cod or mackerel and we had a small barn where we raised two pigs for meat and a cow for milk, cream, butter and cottage cheese. We were always reminded of how lucky we were to have all this.
We had a beautiful Jersey cow named Blossy and it was my job to take her to the pasture every morning before school. I would lead her on a rope to the pasture which we rented for $3.00 a year.
Blossy was a kind, gentle cow, with the most beautiful eyes. It was always a pleasure to look after her. She never gave us any problems. At 5 o’clock, I would go back to the pasture and bring her home for the evening milking – keep her in the barn till morning. Caring for the milk was a chore. My mother mostly looked after her. We had to separator so the extra milk was put in large black pans till the cream separated from the milk. Mother would scoop it off with a spoon. That cream was so thick. Jersey cows were well noted for their cream.
Later in the day we had the old wooden butter churn to make our butter. The milk that the cream was taken off was put in a large pot on the stove until it became curdled. Mother would put the curds in cheesecloth and on a fine day hung it on the clothesline to dry for cottage cheese. Curds and cream was a delicacy in our household. Even though we had lots to eat and home-made bread made twice a week, we had salt fish and pork. Mother would always say ,”Go easy on the butter.” When the bread was hot we kids would love to smother our bred with butter when Mother wasn’t looking. She sometimes took the butter off the table if she thought we used too much. We had a chicken pen. Mother would put down eggs in Isinglass for the winter, occasionally a chicken was killed for dinner on Sundays. We raised our chickens with a clucky hen. I remember my mother borrowing a clucky hen to sit on the eggs to get our chicks and when the chicks were on the their own take the clucky hen back and give the neighbor a few young chicks for the loan of the hen. We sold a few quarts of milk a day, never got much money for ti. A few people paid and lots of time we were paid nothing. Mother never complained.
One day when my mother was walking home from helping some lady who had had a baby (Dr. O;Neil would always call my mother if he needed help) she was passing a house where a woman had six children, all very young. She called my mother and told her, “We don’t have even a piece of bread to feed the children.” So Mother asked me to take a double loaf of bread up to her. “Put it under your coat so your father won’t see it.”
The door opened as I was going out. When my father saw the bread, he said, “Where do you think you’re going with that loaf?” He took me by the hair and turned my head to where Mother was, and said, “Look what I caught this child with going out the door.” Mother told him she was sending it over to Mrs.X who didn’t have a bite for the children . Mrs.X had a husband who drank every cent he ever got his hands on . My father said, “Put the bread back. I am not working to supply the drunk’s family with food.”
Mother gave my father his supper and when he went back to work Mother said, “Put that bread under your coat and take it over to Mrs. X and don’t let your father see you.” My father never did find out that Mrs. X got the bread. Depression affected a lot less fortunate but Mother could never see children hungry.
In 1932 the worst thing happened that could happen. Our vegetable peelings were put in a bucket by the back door for Blossy’s treat. She loved vegetable peelings. I brought Blossy home from the pasture one night at 5 o’clock. That night, someone forgot to take a potato out of the peelings and Blossy swallowed it. That night she bloated and was choking. Mother sent for a neighbor, a blacksmith, to help us. He put a broom handle town the cow’s throat to push the potato down. It failed, and she died that night.
We kids were crying our hearts out. It was the biggest blow my mother and father had during the whole Depression. No milk, no cream, not butter, no curds and cream. It was a disaster.
My father was talking to a man off a vessel that was bringing produce from Prince Edward Island and he said that they had black and white cows that gave three times the milk of a Jersey cow. He said the cows were not that expensive. So Papa borrowed $50 (a month’s salary) from his boss and sent Mother up to the Island on the produce boat to buy a cow.
The owner of the boat charged a small passenger fee for herself and guaranteed Mother he would bring a cow back for her. I can still see that two-master little vessel leaving the harbour right from our kitchen window. It left all of us kids in a turmoil – the boat was old and it leaked and it always had the pump going .
After five days the boat came back and we saw the black and white cow on the deck strapped to whatever, we scrambled to the wharf so fast. My father got the hoist that they haul up fish, got a piece of canvas to put under her stomach, and put it on the block and tackle. At last she had her legs again. A halter was put on and a rope to take her from the wharf to our barn. We never saw so many people going in and out of our barn to see that blue ribbon cow that Mother paid the full $50 for the cow
We kept her tied on a rope and stake for a few days to eat the grass behind the sheds and stores not far from our house. The first bucket of milk Mother milked she kicked it over and we lost all the milk. We lost a few more pails of milk before we could manage her. We had to hold a dipper in one hand, milk with the other hand, and keep the milk pail far away from the cow’s hooves. She was a real kicker.
At last when Mother thought I could handle the milking, she sent me out to milk. She watched when I started. After a few kicks at my milking stool I managed milking in the dipper. I found it so strange as old Blossy would let us put the pail down and milk with both hands, plus we got the job done faster. We always had deadlines to meet – pasture and school. One evening when I was alone I rigged up two poles and drove them under the cow to the barn wall. I nailed them on a 2 x 4 of the barn. I brought them across her legs to see if I could hold her legs back and milk with both hands. I had nothing to fasten the poles on the other side I milked from. I found an old anchor and strapped it by the door and tied the poles to that. It wasn’t long when she kicked them right off the wall, and the anchor came down and spilled what milk we had. After six months we finally got the cow tamed down to milk with both hands. We found she was a real milker we never had enough pots and pans to keep all the milk. We sold more milk which gave Mother a few cents to buy extras like a spool of thread, etc.
We kids were starting to grow up a bit, too. We had an Aunt in Boston who sent all their old clothes to us and my sister Carrie found a beautiful blue Celanese dress in the bundle and it fitted her. She washed it and hung it on the line outside to dry. Our beautiful Blue Ribbon Cow was grazing close to the house and spotted the dress and by the time we got to her, half the dress was chewed right off to the waist. We had to watch the cow and tie her away from the clothesline. This cow was something else. The cow was forever knocking down fences and my poor father would get home from work only to have to go and fix them. Milk or no milk he cursed that Blue Ribbon cow every day.

Red Tape and Torpedo Nets

by
Celia LeDrew nee Shaw

During World War II shortly after VE day the Canadian Navy dumped tons of torpedo netting into Louisbourg Harbor. Torpedo netting was made of hawser steel wire and each link about twenty inches in diameter, which made a mesh buoyed at the waters surface and dropped to the bottom of the harbour to prevent torpedoes from entering past the torpedoes gate. The loaded merchant steamers were remaining at anchor to wait for convoys and orders.

WE lived in old frame house handed down from our grandmother on Commercial Street right by the government Wharf. The lot was 50 feet deep and right on the harbour with 180 feet of shore. Below our house was a beautiful sandy beach where we learned to swim and played in the sand that beach was our pride and joy our whole lives depended on that beach the beach processed every thing that children loved it was heart breaking to see the Royal Canadian Navy dump all this wire mesh on the beach I knew the first gale we would get the under tow would spread all over the whole shore line, not only the shore line would be messed up the lobster fishing that the fishermen depended on for there livelihood would be lost forever I spoke to my father that something should be done about it and he told me I would be wasting my time he said there was a war on and besides you cant fight the Royal Canadian Navy my attitude was how will I know if I don’t try he first person went was the Commander in charge of the Navy in Louisbourg he was very snarky and told me there was a war on and he had no time for such nonsense From there I went to talk to our mayor he to went down to speak to the Officer in charge same answer its impossible as there was a war on then I went to see the harbour master we had a long conversation about what the wire would do the lobster fishing he agreed that it would be disastrous so off he goes to the commander only to get the same answer this time words flew from both of them the officer walked away went to office and slammed the door there was about 160 men working on the marine repairs refitting the mine sweepers and other naval ships. I caught them all on there lunch time although they agreed it was wrong Celia we would like to help you and you cant buck the R C N This all happened from 9 am now its 1pm Mr L H Cann the owner of the marine company that serviced the naval ship she was reluctant to help me I asked him if he would give me the phone number of the naval headquarters in Halifax he gave the phone number perhaps only to get rid of me before I phoned the navy I went to the harbour master to get the phone number of the DEPT of Fisheries He agreed that I should carry on I asked to speak to the Commander of the navy when this commander got on the phone I was a little on the nervous side I explained all that happened I never used so many yes sirs and no sirs in my life This Commander was very sympathetic to my concerns about the fishing and the destruction this tons of wire will cause
It was 3.30 in the afternoon and the commander said he would give it his immediate attention I then asked if I could have his name and rank in case I needed to contact him again.
A navy minesweeper was in for refitting and the Captain and his wife were boarding with us. I couldn’t wait to tell them the good news and everyone laughed their heads off when I showed them the name of the man I was talking to in Halifax ‘Rear-Admiral L.W. Murray’. The Commander of the mine sweeper said we don’t ever get to talk to him. At that time I didn’t know the difference between a Sub-Lieutenant and a Rear Admiral no one wanted to believe me. I felt like a damn fool but I only had to feel like a damn fool till 8 o clock the very next morning my father called everybody to the window and before my eyes was a large scow with a large derrick lifting the discarded nets onto the scow. My fathers expression was I’ll be damned you did it a little girl you beat the Navy.

Mother digging clams.(coal pier in bg) 

The Home On the Hill

The Home on the Hill
By Charlie Shaw

We live at the house by the side of the hill,
A home away from home.
A better place you couldn't find
No matter where you roam.

Louisbourg 1939 -45

SPECIAL VE DAY 1995 EDITION

By

Jean Kyte

---

• 1939 & 1940
  

To the Louisbourg of 1939 the looming war declared by Great Britain and France on Germany on September 3rd was a minor affair that hardly rippled the even tenor of everyday life. The previous February, Mayor Melvin S. Huntington arranged with Malcolm Patterson to introduce a bill in the Legislature establishing the boundaries of the town. The opening of the new Post Office on February 14 and the Customs Office in the same building on February 23 were signs of progress. Swordfishing went on in the summer and the fleet was welcomed as usual. On September 1, Huntington noted in his diary, " Germany invaded Poland today and the war that has been threatened for many months has begun." Up to then, nothing in the way of world news was considered worthwhile mentioning in his diary.

L H. CANN

L H. CANN

Work Of Louisburg Marine Engineer Highly Praised

- LOUISBURG, March 6—Out of this publicity-neglected port today came a story on the feat of a small marine en­gineer who has won recognition through & repair job to a freighter which is believed unequalled in Canadian marine records. ,The engineer is L. H.Cann, own-of the Cann Machine Shop, locat­ed on the harbor front of this, bustling summer resort. The story begins in February, 1947, when the big 5,000-ton freighter, Random, owned by the Newfoundland Railway, cracked a blade in its wheel a short distance from this port.

Local Heroes, Daring Rescue of the 709

1943 - USN submarine chaser SC 709 foundered off Louisbourg NS. Local fishermen effected a daring rescue under extremely adverse conditions. Stranded on a shoal & pounded by 12-foot seas, SC 709 quickly became weighed down by ice & began listing to starboard. Canadian naval authorities in Louisbourg judged it to be too risky to attempt a rescue. The sailors aboard SC 709 could be seen from the shore from time to time as they tried to move about on the wave-swept deck.

Life before the fortress - Community - Living - The Cape Breton Post

Life before the fortress - Community - Living - The Cape Breton Post

 Author Elaine Sawlor with a copy of her new book, Beyond the Fog, which explores the stories of the 81 families whose expropriated properties were developed into the Fortress of Louisbourg. A 

The French Ship

After The British Left,  the villageof  Louisbourg grew with Irish and Scottish immigrants. Houses were built  on the ruins and even the foundations of the  of the Fortress. There is a story from the Kehoe Family that in the 1780's there was a knock on the door one day and a French naval officer entered .

He assured them that he meant no harm. " I just want to recover something that is mine" he said, and went over to the fire place and removed a stone and pulled out a metal box. thanked them and left. They went out to watch them row to a waiting ship and sail away. Allister MacDonald

Fortress of Louisbourg Launches One-of-a-kind Tour | News Releases | Government of Nova Scotia

Fortress of Louisbourg Launches One-of-a-kind Tour | News Releases | Government of Nova Scotia

Ghost stories at Fortress Louisbourg - HALIFAX.CityGuide.ca

Ghost stories at Fortress Louisbourg - HALIFAX.CityGuide.ca

Raindancer Story

Jimmy Norman MacDonald (Big Jim) helped a friend sail a yacht to the Virgin Islands. He was on his way to the Airport to fly back to Nova Scotia when he saw a sign on a bulletin board.

Wanted crewman for sailboat to sail to Nova Scotia. See Captain Ron at Schooner Raindancer II. 

So Jim found Captain Ron and asked about trip. "Are you a sailor?" asked Captain Ron. "No"said Big Jim, "I am a songwriter". "We could use a songwriter," says Captain Ron and Jim was welcomed aboard. Big Jim had never written a song before but Nova Scotia was a long way off and he had a lot of time to work on it. You can hear the song here

Rule of the Road for Steamers

Rule of the Road for Steamers

When all three Lights I see ahead ~

I port my helm, and show my Red

Green to Green ~ or Red to Red~

Perfect safety ~ Go ahead!

If to Starboard Red appear,

It is my duty to keep clear;

Act as judgment says is proper~

Port ~ or Starboard ~ Back ~ or Stop her!

But when upon my port is seen

A Steamer's Starboard light of Green,

For me there's naught to do, but see

That Green to Port keeps clear of me.

Both in safety and in doubt

I always keep a good look-out;

If in danger, with no room to turn,

I ease her! ~ Stop her! ~ Go astern!

by Thomas Gray, December 1877

Celia & Harold on their Wedding Day