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I was born in Edmonton, May 31, 1948, and named Jacqueline. The first eleven years of my life were spent in a home my father bought and renovated. It was a small starter home to begin with, but soon became a very unique and distinguished looking home -stuccoed pink and spotted with yellow dots. Our family, (my parents, my three younger siblings -two brothers and one sister-, and myself) lived in the County of Strathcona on 51st Avenue, the southern most outskirts of Edmonton at that time.
Through the first five years, depending upon bus routes and school enrolment, I attended East Edmonton (now an historical building), Colchester, Oliver, and Ellerslie schools. The oldest of my two brothers, who was two years younger than me, was separated from me on his first day of school. Increased enrolment of grade three students necessitated that grade being taught in Oliver School. The other grades carried onto Colchester. Both of us cried. Me, because I was to take care of my little brother, and he, because I was. Throughout our student-years, we were often in different schools. However, we did consider ourselves fortunate, whenever we could attend the same school at the same time.
Life was easy for us youngsters in those years. We had all the modern conveniences -running water, electricity that enabled us to at last watch the TV, gas heating, mom's fresh-baked cookies and chocolate milk delivered right to the door by NADP. And we must not forget the musical jingle of the 'ice cream' truck. The joys of childhood!
Our home had a warm and inviting appeal to everyone we knew and also to many a weary traveller, who, quite often, would stop and approach our home for a cool drink of water on a hot day. We had many neighbors on that street, but as big business began its spread outwards, in the mid-fifties, many of these homes disappeared. Ours was one that remained standing for more than twenty years after we left the area.
My father and mother, having adventure in their blood, decided to try homesteading. 1959 found us moving to northern Alberta and to the County of Athabasca. A family of six living in a spacious two-room house with no power, no running water, and no thermostatically controlled heat. We did not miss the television. And we did not mind living without power or running water. It was a time of family togetherness full of enjoyment, as well as learning.
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| On those days there was no time for playing enroute to the bus. Besides the wind was too cold and we had to move quickly to keep warm. Somehow we always managed to beat the old-yellow-school bus to that corner. |
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I received my grade six education at Edwin Parr Composite School, Athabasca, Alberta.
The homestead was separated from the main road allowance by farmland. Although arrangements were made that would allow us to travel across it at a specific point, the farmer and owner of the land would not sign right-of way papers that would give permission to build a road. As it was no fun for driving a vehicle or walking through a rain-drenched cultivated field, the summer of 1960 found us back in our familiar Edmonton home on 51st Avenue.
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Our stay, living with Lake Shuswap as our backyard skating rink, was short. It was only three months, but of all my school years these three months immediately pop to mind whenever anyone mentions learning ancient history. My teacher, Mr. McCready, passed his passion for history onto me. Though we moved on, what I learnt in his classroom, I have never forgotten. His study methods have stayed with me to this day and figure in with the way I research an historical subject.
Easter holidays found us once again on the road. I finished my grade seven term at Johnston Heights in Cloverdale, British Columbia, and then we moved back to Alberta.
The next five years are filled with even more fond memories. We resided in three different areas within the County of Stony Plain, Alberta. The first three years were spent without the modern conveniences of electricity, running water, and gas heating. Road conditions were once again a factor in determining whether we walked two miles or caught the bus at our doorstep. Most of the time we would be first to board the bus at 7:00a.m. and travel the loop with our bus driver. There were those few days that the wind blowing snow covered the entire road, making drifts higher than us and as solid as rock. Being fourteen or fifteen years of age I must have been at least four and a half feet tall, and those drifts seemed to be nearly twice as high as I was tall. My mother says she has not seen snow like we used to see in those days for many years now. There would be stretches when we would kick toeholds into the drift and then struggle up to the top and then slide down the other side on our bellies. At the rise of the taller drifts, we could see the succession of drifts behind and ahead of us looking much like the ups and downs of a rollercoaster. With as much fun as we had and as tired as we were by the time we arrived at the end of the road, we always met the bus on its return trip from the loop.
1965 found us, as rentals became available, closer to town. And again in 1966, another move brought us within a few miles of Stony Plain.
My education from grade eight to my grade twelve graduation in 1966 was accomplished at Memorial Heights School in the town of Stony Plain.
After completing my education I remained with my family that summer, moving first to Devon, then, with the death of my grandfather, settling in the main house on grandfather's acreage across from the Big Game Farm. At about this same time I applied for and got my first working position in the Bonnie Doon Shopping Centre in Edmonton, Alberta. Thus I found my own apartment.
| Being a country girl at heart, I left Edmonton in the winter of 1967 to join my highschool girlfriend who now lived in Westlock, Alberta. I had my own apartment and three kittens that became part of my family during the time I was a working-girl, party-going teenager. It was while I was working at Murtha's Fine Foods that I met the man who would become my husband. |
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From the winter of '67 till the spring of '69, I worked for a short time at four different restaurants (The Alberta Cafe, Murtha's Fine Foods, Astoria Inn, Tosto's), one realty office (as a fill-in receptionist for one month), and a second time at Murtha's Fine Foods, before changing careers and working as a clerk in a supermarket.
It was while working at Lindahl's Supermarket that we began making arrangements for our wedding. About a month before our day, in extremely cold weather, my future husband was grinding feed for our cattle when his jacket got caught in the power take-off. It flung him over to the other side, ripping off his layered clothing of two jackets, his shirt, and undershirt. All that remained on his body was the cuff of his shirt around his wrist and his jeans. Fortunately his life was spared. He did, however, experience "shock" and a badly twisted and broken arm.
Having postponed the wedding twice prior, we decided to go ahead with our plans and were wed April 26, 1969, with my man in a body cast. We purchased from his dad two quarters of land in the country not far from Rochester, Alberta, where he and his father farmed together until the fall of 1979. At this time his dad decided to retire and sold to us the remaining three quarters of land and turned over two quarters that were leased. We moved across the road to live on the farm and in the house that my husband grew up in as a child.
Between 1970 and 1979, we both worked the farm that was a mixed grain/cattle operation. On occasion we added a few pigs for the children to work with. And I worked part-time as a cocktail waitress at the Athabasca Inn and then as barmaid at the Rochester Hotel and finally as a clerk/cashier at Westlock and Barrhead District Co-op Department store.
We have three children; a daughter born in 1971, a son born in 1973, and a son born in 1982.
In 1984, our family was split by divorce. I, then, attended secretarial classes at AVC and received a certificate of high achievement. While I supported our three children by working at the Athabasca University, we lived in three locations all central to Rochester, more as a convenience for their father to visit them. When circumstances allowed, I fulfilled a part of my dream: 'As a young family in 1977, we had toured to Whitehorse, Yukon Territories. The magnetism of the north was in my blood from that time on and it beckoned often for me to return.' Now as a single mom with three children, we travelled north. Although we did not make it to the Yukon, we did make it about a third of the way, and finally settled in the lovely 'Peace River' region of British Columbia. And in effect have been "pioneering" on our own ever since. Living in the Yukon will remain a dream. I sometimes get the urge to pull up stakes and move further north along the Alaska Highway, forever getting closer to the Yukon. I cannot put my finger on why that pull is always there, but I can admit that it does not have such a hold over me anymore. I believe accepting my Lord into my life has brought me peace.
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