Human Refuse 3: A Northern Teacher Departs

It was just happenstance that my family landed in the North.  
In the summer of 1960 my father was planning 
to return to Acadia University in Wolfville, Nova Scotia, 
to pursue his Bachelor of Education.

University Hall, Acadia University, Wolfville, Nova Scotia

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Uhall1.JPG

  
On a whim, prompted by curiosity, 
my father answered an advertisement for a teaching job 
in the Church of England Indian Day School 
at Lansdowne House on Lake Attawapiskat in Northern Ontario.

Lake Attawapiskat:  Look for it Under the Second T 

in the Word Attawapiskat 

inland from Akimiski Island, James Bay

 Note also:  Sault Ste. Marie

Between Lake Superior and Lake Huron

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:GRAND_Canal_proposal_%28James_Bay_to_Lake_Huron%29.jpg

He was hired almost immediately; 
and, although he jokingly liked to think 
that his speedy acceptance was due to his qualifications, 
my father knew that it was largely because of 
how desperate the Indian Affairs Branch was 
for teachers at that time.  
It was an offer too good to resist.

On the day my father left, the letters began - 
letters that have come to me for safe-keeping.  
The first I have was written by my mother 
to my father's mother, Myrtle Jane (Pratt) MacBeath, 
on September 4, 1960.

When I touch these faded pages, 
I feel my mother’s presence and her unwavering love, 
not just for me, 
but also for her husband, children, and extended family.  
These letters are among my most precious possessions.


I'm trying to imagine what it was like for my parents 
that last evening before my father left.

  

Dad was heading into isolation, 
and Mom was staying in Nova Scotia 
with five children aged one to ten.  

My parents had no idea how long they would be apart; 
but, they faced separation and difficulty 
in the hope of improving their financial circumstances.  

They shared a dream 
that all five of their children would go to university; 
and, not just any university, 
but Acadia University, their alma mater. 

At that time and place, 
university was a given for a son. 
But four girls?  
That was considered a waste of good money.

Donald Blair MacBeath and Sara Margaret MacBeath

Acadia University, 1950

   

There was so much unspoken in the words my mother wrote 
the day my father left Smith’s Cove for Halifax, 
Charlottetown, and on to Ontario:

I imagine Don will be on his way North when you receive this.
We certainly hated to see him go
and are lonely already without him ...

Don and I spent last evening with Grammy at Aunt Nan's.  
It was a beautiful night, 
and we watched the sea in the moonlight 
and enjoyed the fireplace.

Smith's Cove, Nova Scotia

The second letter is from my father to his Sally,
September 7, 1960.
Travel was quite different then: 

I arrived in Sault Ste. Marie 

after a very tiresome trip from Char’town (Charlottetown).  

I left at 11:45 a.m. 

& didn’t arrive at the Windsor Hotel

until 12:30 p.m. (1:30 your time).

                                 

Sault Ste. Marie

https://www.google.com/search?q=Sault+Ste.+Marie&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a 

I had to wait 2 hours & 30 minutes in Moncton, 
55 minutes in Montreal, 
& 3 hours in Toronto.  

Then when I arrived in Sault Ste. Marie, 
I had another unpleasant surprise.  

There is no airport in Canadian Sault Ste. Marie.  
We landed in Michigan at a USAF base 
& had to drive by bus to our hotel.  

What with waiting for ferries etc., 
it took 1 1/2 hours to get from the plane to the hotel – 
just about as long as it took to get from Toronto 
to Sault St. Marie. 

Sault Ste. Marie:  Aerial picture of the Soo Locks 

between Lake Superior and Lake Huron 

dividing the cities of Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, USA (right) 

and Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada (left).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Soo_Locks-Sault-Ste_Marie.png 

I almost missed the plane in Toronto.  
I didn’t hear them call the departure of the flight.  
When I realized what had happened, 
I dashed out to see the aircraft 
just as they had closed the door & taken away the ramp.
  
However the stewardess saw me through the window 
& notified the pilot.  
He cut back the engine, 
they put up the ramp again, & I got aboard.  
I felt mighty foolish, I can tell you.

To be continued …

Note:  I’m figuring out my way as I go for it.

I would appreciate any constructive criticism.

Is it interesting?
Appropriate length and details?
Helpful visuals?

I hope, as I get into the story
that you, kind readers,
will find the North as compelling as my family and I did.
Thank you for your support as I go through this process.

Links to other Northern Posts:
Human Refuse
Human Refuse 2:  Lansdowne House