POW Camp Gravenhurst

Battle ship in a bottle crafted by an unidentified POW at Gravenhurst


Prisoners of War being paraded from the train to their new home at the Gravenhurst POW Camp


German POW's dress for a play they are performing.


A look at the prisoners compound


More prisoners march under close guard


The old POW site in this town north of Toronto is difficult to find. Either people are embarrassed that German prisoners lived there or they don't know much about the camp or perhaps memories have just become terribly hazy. Some German POW came to Gravenhurst for convalescence. The site is perched on and around rocks on the shore of Pine Lake in Muskoka country.

In 1978 the old concrete pilings of the main building remained in addition to a decrepit guardhouse, a tired, lonely old red fire hydrant amidst the weeds and a desolate pump house by the lake. Old bits of roofing material refused to decompose even after thirty five years of abandonment. In the tall brush, I found a well preserved pieced of canvas fire hose with solid brass fittings, but other than that, memories seem to be few at Gravenhurst. In 1998, no physical evidence remains on site.

Spanish Residential School

Throughout the early 20th century, the Roman Catholic Church operated approximately 70 per cent of the estimated 130 residential schools created for educating Indians in Canada. These federally funded schools were set up for Indians who did not have an Indian Day School located within five kilometres of their home.

As seen through the public eye, the schools were a positive move designed to teach aboriginals how to lead aboriginals from a “life of poverty, dirt and ignorance”.

Educated by Jesuit priests or Sisters, the students received moral, academic and industrial training. Classes operated for half the day while for the duration of the day the students would be responsible for the entire maintenance of the grounds including cooking, cleaning, laundry, and farming.

The poor funding provided by the Government meant that the schools had to be as self-sustaining as possible. Children grew their own food, made their own clothes and raised and sold livestock including cattle, chickens and hogs. Children also milled the wheat, baked bread, forged shoes for the horses; cut hides and made shoes and tailored shirts, pants and pajamas.

In the community of Wikwemikong (Ontario) the Jesuit priests ran the St. Peter Claver's Indian Residential School for male Indians. The Daughters of the Heart of Mary operated a school for female Indians based out of the same log cabin.

The boys school operated from the years 1850 until 1911 when it caught fire. The girls school operated from 1862 until the same time, apparently using the same log cabin for a building.

Two new schools were constructed: St. Peter’s Clavier’s School constructed in 1911 with a capacity for 180 boys and St. Joseph’s School for Girls constructed in 1916 with a capacity for 150 girls. The schools were constructed on a 1000-acre lot located at the mouth of the Spanish River. Reverend Joseph Sauve and Father Paquin supervised the building and construction of the new schools that began operation in 1913.

The move from Wikwemikong to Spanish was intentional to remove the children from their Reserves and far away from the parents.


St. Peter Claver's Indian Residential School

The St. Peter’s Indian Residential School for Boys was an impressive three-story structure that contained dormitories, study hall, classrooms, recreation hall, dining rooms, kitchen, lavatory, kitchen, pantry, infirmary, bakery and tailor shop.

Located on the ground of the boy’s school was a windmill, powerhouse and a shoe shop. A large barn held cows, horses and dairy operation. A mill near the river processed corn and wheat. A chicken coop held up to four hundred chickens.

There were approximately 130 boys at the school aged 4 to 16. The school drew Aboriginal children from reserves across Ontario some of the whom were orphans; others committed to the institution as punishment for some misdemeanor; and a few were enrolled by their parents in order to receive some education and training

Despite the luxurious sounding premises, life was anything but luxury. To say that the Government neglected these children would be an understatement. They paid out $129.31 per child annually or $.35 per day, for food, clothing and utilities.

Health care was the responsibility of the Indian Department, yet they were slow responding for medicine, dental care and tonsillitis treatment.

The day began at 6:15 AM, mass followed from 6:45 to 7:45 and then breakfast from 7:30 until 8:00 am.

8:05 to 8:55 was work, 9:00 until 11:55 was school and work. Dinner was served from 12:00 until 12:25.

There was some reprieve from the day’s chores with sports and games from 12:30 until 1:10 and then class/work resumed from 1:15 until 4:15 pm.

4:15 until 4:30 was collation, 4:30-4:55 was work/chores, 5:00 until 5:55 was study hour, 6:00 until 6:25 was supper. 6:30 until 7:25 was once again sports and games time. 7:30 until 10:00 was study time and bedtime preparation.

Beginning January 1931, native languages were forbidden in the school except on Sundays, Thursdays and holidays. The boys (and girls) were punished for speaking in their mother tongue. One school Reverend is quoted as saying, “not a word of Indian is heard from our boys after six months”.

There were instances of sexual abuse perpetrated by senior students against junior students as well as severe physical abuse by staff.


Transition

During the mid 1940’s, St. Peter Claver’s underwent some positive changes. A new Father Superior, R.J. Oliver, was appointed in 1945. With many of the tasks such as tending to chickens and tailoring were becoming obsolete due to machinery, Father Oliver introduced a high school curriculum in 1946 to further help the boys succeed once they graduated, the first Residential school to do so. The rigorous daily work periods were removed.

Around 1947 the school changed its name to the Garnier Residential School for Indian Boys.

In 1948, a joint House of Commons and Senate committee recommended that these residential schools be abolished. The church on the other hand lobbied for them to continue. Despite the committee’s recommendations, the schools remained open.

Almost a decade later the schools were seeing decreased enrollment as Aboriginal children were encouraged to integrate with children in their town’s co-existing schools.

The Garnier Residential School eventually grew too run down and closed its doors in 1958. It was demolished in 2004.


Aftermath

Following a reunion of former students over the civil holiday at the end of July 1988, the Sudbury Star and the Globe and Mail published stories that were critical of the Spanish School. The article focused on the harsh discipline and the negative impact on Aboriginal culture.

On July 11, 1991 an Aboriginal parishoner told his parish priest in the village of Cape Croker that he’d been sexually abused as an altar boy by Father George Epoch, a Jesuit who had worked at the Spanish School.

By January 6, 1993, the Jesuits learned that the Ontario Provincial Police (“O.P.P.”) were investigating allegations at the Spanish School.

A former student, Peter Cooper, retained legal counsel and in a letter dated January 27, 1994, demanded compensation from the Jesuits. In fact investigators hired by the Jesuits determined that there might very well be dozens or hundreds of former students who’d been abused. Cooper’s claim would be one of more than 100 such abuse claims made against the Jesuits.

The Jesuits are currently in legal battle with their insurer who refuses to pay out to the victims. So far the Jesuits have paid out approximately $2 million in settlement costs.

On June 11, 2008 Prime Minister Stephen Harper publically apologized on behalf of the government and the people of Canada for the abuse that occurred residential schools.


St. Joseph’s School

St. Joseph’s was similar in construct to the boys school – it contained classrooms, dining room, play rooms, chapel and sewing room. The girls education consisted of all the elementary schooling as well as home economics, cooking, sewing and personal hygiene
The school was just as harsh as the male school. Students were scolded or strapped for speaking their native language. Girls would sneak off to the lake to hold a pow-wow using a pail for a drum.

Health care was not what it is today. Influenza and pneumonia took the lives of eight boys and eight girls during the autumn of 1918.

St. Josephs closed in 1958. A fire destroyed the school in 1981 although the shell remains to this day.

Burwash Prison

Burwash Prison was located along highway 69. Once fully constructed, the site had the ability to house 1000 inmates but never reached full capacity.

Burwash was a completely self-sufficient town which contained a 20 bed hospital, church, school, staff townsite, power station, post office, blacksmith, tailor shop, skating rink, cemetery, hospital, barber shop and church.

The beginning

On September 14, 1914, the Ontario Government passed an Order in Council to establish the Burwash Industrial Farm. Four days later, the new Superintendant Clarance Fletcher Neelands, Sgt. Norman Sydney Oliver and nine inmates arrived at the Burwash Station. They set up camp and soon thereafter began constructing the first permanent building known as Camp Spruce.

In 1914 construction commenced on the 35,000 acres of land and by the end of the same year 150 prisoners serving sentences of two years or less were transferred to Burwash.

With the First World War, came recession. With recession came crime. The population of inmates grew to 180.

By 1915, a small log camp had been built on the banks of the Wanapitei River and by fall, work had begun on the main camp. It was completed on January 31, 1916.

Until the construction of the cell blocks, prisoners lived in the dormitory located within the townsite.


Growth

The population continued to grow as the Guelph Reformatory was turned into a veteran's hospital and rehabilitation center. The 200 prisoners were transferred to Burwash. Burwash's population grew to over 350 men.

By 1917, a steam powered sawmill (on Mill Lake), shingle and 'sticker' mill were in operations. The mill produced one million feet of lumber at its peak, annually.

During the 1920's when Christmas season arrived, the Salvation Army organized people to sing Christmas carols to the inmates.

Travel to Burwash was primarily by train as there were no roads leading to the site.

In 1933, a road built by the inmates connected the Wanapitei River with Estaire. This road now connected Burwash with other roads to Wanup, Sudbury and Coniston. Burwash was no longer a remote isolated area. In a few years, cars were making it possible for people to visit Burwash and for staff to go shopping in Sudbury.

Once the Trans Canada Highway was built, prisoner escape attempts became more frequent and signs were posted along the highway instructing motorists not to pick up hitchhikers.

Camp Bison

The new $2.6 million Camp Bison was officially opened in a ceremony on June 8, 1960. It accomodated 210 inmates. The name of the camp originated from the numerous wildlife that had been known to roam the property.

The End

On July 10, 1974, Ontario Minister of Correctional Services, Richard T. Potter, announced that the Burwash Correctional Centre would close. The cost to run Burwash was deemed too high, outdated equipment would be costly to replace and Burwash's closure would save the provincial government money.

The last day of operation was February 13, 1975. Residents of the estimated 175 townsite houses were told they would have to vacate their homes. Some residences took their homes with them - literally.

In 1977, a steering Committee was established by the Ontario Government to recommend possible uses for the remaining prison complex and the 35,000 acres of land. This led to the Federal Government purchasing the property in October for $1.8 million dollars.

In July of 1979, the land was leased to the Regional Municipality of Sudbury for a goat farming operation to produce mohair.

In 1990 the government bid on 8000 acres of lad to be used for military training. Some of this training involved using explosives to destroy some of the townsite's homes.

Today

Any buildings left on the site were bulldozed by the government in 1994.

An Ontario Heritage Trust plaque was unveiled at the site on August 6, 2006. Around 2007 the cemetery, overgrown and difficult to find, was cleaned up and a sign posted to mark it's location. There are an estimated 12-20 prisoners buried here many of whom had no family to bury them properly.

Parts of Burwash are still used by the Department of National Defense for training purposes.

Henry Routledge

My great grandfather Henry Routledge was born December 17, 1876 in the town of Clinton in Huron County, Ontario.

He married Charlotte Matilda Ginn on the 25th of August 1897. He was twenty one, she was 2 months older. Their only child, my grandmother Maude Ada Routledge was born on September 18th 1899.

Henry was a devout Baptist and was very active in his church, becoming a deacon. By all accounts he was a kindly and generous father and grandfather but he did instill in his daughter Maude the rigorous values of the early Baptist faith. Mother told us stories about my grandmother’s admonitions about dancing, smoking and drinking.

He was also a life-long member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows (IOOFF), a group he was active with all his life, serving as Deputy Grand Master for several years before his death.

In 1906 when Maude was about seven years old, the family moved north to New Liskeard.

In the earlier years Henry worked at a number of jobs, and quickly adapted himself to the new community, becoming well known for his horticultural skills and his beautiful lawns and gardens. In fact, in later years his gardens parties in which he would entertain visiting dignitaries including some provincial politicians would be reported in the Temiskaming Speaker in glowing terms. His gardening soil was apparently well sought after. During the spring planting times in the 1920’s and 30’s fellow community residents would be waiting for Henry's ad to appear in the Temiskaming Speaker with his annual sale of extra gardening soil. His wife Charlotte also became a well known figure in the community, becoming very active with the local Girl Guide group. She eventually became provincial commissioner of the movement.

In 1916 Henry was hired by the Town of New Liskeard. He was employed by the public works department and in short order became Public Works Superintendent. A works superintendent, in a small town, in those days out of necessity, wore a number of hats. He not only directed the towns work crews but acted as by-law officer and weed control officer as well as in other capacities. He was also responsible for the purchase and maintenance of town equipment.

Henry was also appointed special constable, no doubt to aid him in his by-law enforcement work, and was an auxiliary policeman. Town council minutes from the late 1930’s show special disbursements of additional pay to him for ‘police work’. He became very well respected as a knowledgeable town employee and it is reported in the records of the New Liskeard town council that on occasion he was called upon to give his advice on the design and specification of various local bridge construction projects.

In august 1938 the then current police chief resigned and Henry was appointed to fill the position until a permanent replacement could be found. He held the job until october 1939. In addition to his new duties as a police officer with the investigations and arrests and court appearances, Henry also managed to keep up with his job as the town's public works supervisor.

His career as public works boss did not always go without controversy. In june 1939 New Liskeard town council devoted one entire session interviewing Henry during the ‘great fire truck debacle’. Apparently an old fire company truck had caught fire and it was decided by Henry that it was beyond any practical use, so he arranged for the town to sell it as scrap to a local farmer.

One of the town councilors caught wind of the transaction, and for reasons that were probably based more on self interest than any sort of ethical concern, launched a bitter attack on Henry. The story occupied the front page of the Temiskaming Speaker for several editions and at times the debate became heated. At one point Henry demanded an apology from the newspaper for what he considered as suggestions that he had been guilty of wrong doing. The newspapers editor quickly responded with an editorial that said in part,"Some apparently read from the article the suggestion that the town foreman was accused of stealing the engine from the town and selling it. Those who know Harry Routledge (sic) know better than that."

It was finally revealed that the town councillor who sat on the fire and light committee had known about and had told Henry that he agreed with the decision to sell the vehicle. He also offered to resign his seat if council felt that he had been remiss in his responsibilites. As it turned out he didn't have to, but he was strongly censured. In concluding the matter the town unanimously sided with their Public Works Director and announced that Henry had indeed, "carried out his responsibilities with customary integrity.”

Henry was also a 1st. Leut. with the New Liskeard Fire Department, and no doubt found himself called out numerous times since the regular fire department was quite small and was for a number of years terribly under funded.

There is a story told that during the 1920’s a photographer was called in to take a photograph of the fire crew. What resulted was not a group shot, as everyone was expecting, but a series of small photos of individual firemen. It was soon learned that the reason for this was that there was only one hat and that each man in turn sat for his picture wearing it.

It would seem that Henry Routledge was held in high standing by the other town workers. Several times, as reported in the local press, he appeared in front of the city fathers petitioning for pay increases for certain of his employees. These were in the days before the famous ‘in camera’ sessions which are now a common and often abused practice when local councils are dealing with employee matters. In those days if your neighbor was called up on the carpet or was about to receive a promotion or pay raise, it would be duly reported in the local press.

In 1931 he assumed the role of protector of his daughter Maude and her four daughters, after she and her husband Laurence Bateson separated.The details of this event are well known in the family.

On July 23, 1937 Charlotte passed away after a long and debilitating illness. Records do not reveal the exact nature of her illness except that she apparently spent her final months in some misery.

On July 31, 1941 Henry remarried to Elizabeth Stuart Edwards, the former Mrs. William R. Campsall, with who she had three children, by then grown up. She was a long time friend of both the Routledge and Bateson families. Strangely, the couple were married in the United Church in the nearby town of Cobalt, even though Henry was long time member of the New Liskeard Baptist congregation.

In 1943 Henry suffered a stroke. It was something that he never fully recovered from and at the time was given a four month leave of absence with full pay from his job as Public Works Director. When that time had lapsed, he wrote town council announcing his intention to resign. The town accepted it, with reluctance, and in August 1943, took the unprecedented step of awarding him a higher pension than the existing town by-law actually allowed, although certainly by today’s standard it would be considered a paltry sum. He would receive $900 a year broken into semi monthly payments of $37.50.

Henry passed away Thursday March 14, 1946. Although he had suffered a stroke three years earlier, it was generally assumed that his health was stable, in fact a few days earlier he was out on the street chatting with friends and appeared fine. He collapsed early Thursday morning and was taken to the hospital where at 9:30 am, he died.

His funeral was a local event. It was held under the auspices of the Odd Fellows at the New Liskeard Baptist Church, which was filled to capacity with friends and relatives and fellow employees. The service was conducted by pastors Rev. E.G Baxter and Rev. William C. Kitto. Pallbearers were friends and former town employees A.J Brown, Jack Shortt, M.G Hansman, Thomas Grills, Alllan Kaye, Thomas Magladery and Charles Byram. He is buried in the New Liskeard Pioneer Cemetery where he lies in peace along with his daughter Maude and great granddaughter Faye Laura Haddow.

Looking back over Henry Routledge’s life, its clear that his was a time well spent. He was a man of integrity, a virtue that was born of his deep faith and an intelligent public servant. He was, and perhaps this is the quality most respected in the family, a caring and loving man who in his later years took on the responsibility of caring for and protecting the welfare of his daughter and my mother and her sisters and making sure that they had the proper social and educational opportunities.

As a result, my mother had a wonderful job at the Haileyburian Newspaper in Haileybury, Ontario where she worked with the famous John R. Hunt (who later became one of my mentors); my aunt Mildred married a very successful farmer and businessman and former reeve of Dymond Township, serving a couple of terms on council herself; and my aunt Helen who along with her husband Elwood Kidd single handedly founded the New Liskeard Cubs Hockey Club in 1954 and then nurtured them along for the next 50 years.The team went on to win ten league Championships, four All Ontario Championships and two trips to the Air Canada AAA Midget Championships, one ending with silver medals in 1997.

Today his contributions to the fast growing pioneer community are largely forgotten - except perhaps for a few relatives.There are no photos of him in the local town office or museum. But there have been few since that have rivalled his energy or his sense of commitment.

John Haddow Arrives In Canada

John Haddow was born September 22, 1884 on the family farm just outside of the hamlet of Dalton-in-Furness, Cumbria, England.

The son of Joseph Haddow and Margaret Elizabeth Dobson, he had two brothers; Arthur born in 1879 and Thomas in 1896. He also had two sisters Lillian and Isabel. We don't know much about the sisters unfortunately. We know that Lillian married James Henry Hamer in Ramsbottom, England in 1896 and that Isabel married David Morrison in 1901 in Salford, Lancashire.

Dalton-in-Furness is located in that northern part of Lancashire on a peninsula that juts out into the Irish Sea. It is north of the main part of Lancashire and because of it’s remote location; in those earlier days the only access to the area was across the dangerous sands of Morecambe Bay, the area was commonly called, “over the sands”.

The remote farming and fishing region had been home to Haddows since the time of William the Conqueror. Because it was at the very north-western corner of his English kingdom, ownership of the area was much disputed over by both Scotland and England.

As the border was pushed northwards the area became more peaceful. In the middle ages the governing group of the area was the monks of Furness Abbey. They owned most of the land and built a number of castles. In the 1530’s the authority of the abbeys began to decline, due in part to the slow dissolution of the monasteries. Up until the time my grandfather was born, farming and fishing were the areas mainstays.

But farming was especially affected by the economic trends of the times. In the early 1870’s declining cereal prices forced farmers away from grain production. Since this had historically provided more work than livestock rising, many laborers found themselves out of a job.

Oceanic steamship trade brought cheaper commodities into the country (sound familiar?) that competed against local goods. During the 1880’s much of the beef consumed in the country was imported. At the same time laws were enacted that changed ownership of much of the farmland forcing laborers and small farmers to seek employment elsewhere.

A large number of these displaced people went in search for work in the larger towns and the cities. Large coal deposits of coal were discovered in the Cumbria area and began development. What may have been seen by some as a possible development, for the farmers it was the death knell. The second largest coal deposits in the United Kingdom were discovered not far from Dalton.

Waste from the coal works were spread throughout the area, making agricultural land almost unworkable. My grandfather’s parents saw their livelihood slip away. If my grandfather had entertained any thoughts of taking over the family farm they would certainly have vanished.

As a teenager, my grandfather traveled around England for a time, but soon found himself back in Cumbria where he landed a job in the shipyards at Barrow-in-Furness working as an ironworker. In 1903 he married my grandmother Elizabeth Agnes Langhorn and in March 1904 their first son Thomas was born. In June 1906, a second child Arthur arrived.

With thousands of people coming into the smelter town looking for work, housing was in short supply, and rents began taking increasingly larger chunks of the weekly pay. Overcrowding led to poor health conditions, illness especially for the poor was common. Lack of medical care, poor working conditions in the factories and shipyards, soon found my grandparents, now with a family, thinking about immigrating to Canada to begin a new life in a new land.

In late March of 1908, John Haddow just 23 years old, and his brother Thomas, set foot on Canadian soil when they temporarily disembraked at the Immigration Inspection Station at Grosse Ile.

He would now have to find a job, save money and arrange to get his small family to Canada. They would not be reunited for another two years

Grandmother Arrives In Canada: The Family Reunites

My Grandmother Elizabeth Haddow left Liverpool on April 6, 1910 aboard the SS Laurentic, bound for Montreal, Canada with her two boys Thomas age 6 and Arthur 3. Also on board was her brother-in-law Arthur Haddow, his wife Isabel and their two sons James and Bert. The cost of the fares for each family was seventy-five dollars.

My Grandfather John Haddow, who was at the time working in the gold mines in Virginiatown, in the District of Temiskaming, had sent money for the travel expenses from the savings that he had managed to squirrel away from his 65 cent an hour miners pay. From the $39 a week pay cheque, the company would deduct his room and board and even with the most frugal lifestyle, save for a pouch of tobacco and some soap, it would take him almost a year to save the $400 that he managed to send home.


In her 85th year, my Grandmother would talk about their trip to Canada. The 3000 mile trip was an adventure, to say the least.The rough seas caused long bouts of sea sickness. But there was plenty of food – if you had the appetite. After days on the rolling Atlantic, the rocks of Newfoundland– although not yet a part of Canada- was a sign that the ocean trip at least was coming to an end.


The immigrant ship steamed past Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island and entered to St. Lawrence River. Before their trip ended at the Port of Montreal there was one stop to make at the Grosse Ile Quarantine Station operated by Canadian Immigration. The Island was located in the St. Lawrence about 30 miles before Quebec City.


Just before the stop the passengers and crew scrambled around getting themselves and the ship cleaned up. Everyone on board knew that their journey could be delayed or even terminated if disease or sickness was suspected or discovered. The doctors checked the passengers for any sign of typhus, cholera, beriberi, smallpox or bubonic plague. That particular year, almost 98,000 passed through the Inspection with 727 ending up being hospitalized and 14 buried in the simple cemetery at the other end of the island.

During my Grandmother’s stop over on the island she may have very well seen the huge celtic cross that had been erected the previous year in memory of the tragedy of 1847 when thousands died at the Island when typhoid swept through the immigrant ships.

Finally on April 14, 1910, the party disembarked at Montreal. From there it was a 450 mile trip by train that would take them through Ottawa, North Bay and New Liskeard, finally stopping at the small village of Dane, the closest railhead to Virginiatown.

The trip was uncomfortable and dirty. When the windows were opened for fresh air, the steam and soot from the engine would blow in. As the train made it’s various stops for coal and water, vendors would board the train selling refreshments. These stops gave the passengers the chance to stretch their legs, but no one dared go too far away for fear of getting lost and being left behind in this vast new land.

Once they reached Dane (now a ghost town) there was the horse drawn coach that would take them the 12 miles to the gold camp and the long awaited reunion of the family.

My Grandparents In The Larder Lake Gold Camps

John Haddow worked at the Kerr Mine in Virginiatown from 1909 to 1912. In that last year my uncle Gordon was born, the first of John and Elizabeth’s children to be born in Canada. That same year also saw the closing of the gold mines. The decline in population was dramatic. By early 1907 over 4000 claims had been staked in the area and nearly 2500 men lived in the camps. But the gold proved to be elusive and by 1911 the gold rush was over and the population of the area quickly dropped to about 400 people. A year later when my grandparents left Virginatown it had become a virtual ghost town with less than 100 residents.

His brother Arthur also left the area and headed south to North Bay where his wife Isabel and their children were staying. While there he worked in the bush camps and on March 23, 1916 Arthur enlisted in the Canadian army and served in Europe. Soon after the war the family would be back in the Temiskaming area and would start farming not far from my grandparent’s place.

In 1922 a horrible fire swept through Temiskaming district taking the lives of 43 people and destroying over 1500 homes. To the south, the town of Haileybury was 90 percent destroyed in what would become one of the 10 worst disasters in Canadian history.

Arthur lost everything and his wife was taken to the New Liskeard hospital with injuries. They would keep struggling until late March 1928 when they packed everything up and returned to North Bay where they remained until Arthur’s death in February 1957. Isabel followed him in 1961.

My grandfather was able to get some free land near the small community of Milberta, in Kerns Township, Temiskaming, through a government settlement act. Eventually they would use some of their own meager savings to acquire more.

The land had no buildings on it when they first arrived, so my grandfather arranged to buy a small vacant house on a neighboring property and dragged it over with teams of horses and rollers. Later as the family expanded, more sections would be added to the farm house.

And additions to the family were not long in coming. My father Wilfred was born in September 1914. He was followed by Roy in 1917, Lillian in 1920 and then Vernon.

In those early years my grandfather would bring home some much needed extra cash by working the winter in one of the nearby logging camps.

The settlement of Milberta was founded 15 years before my grandparents arrived and was situated on a hill that gave a view of the surrounding farms. As settlers began pushing further into Temiskaming’s ‘Little Clay Belt’, the community grew. A post office had opened in 1901, and shortly afterwards a one room school. Other businesses included a mercantile store, black smith’s shop, S. Eplett’s store and the T. Newton Hotel. In 1903 a Baptist church followed by a Presbyterian church. Just after my grandparents arrival in the area a small telephone company was formed.

Throughout the war years John Haddow’s farm grew with large acreage of wheat and livestock that not only included cattle, hogs and chickens, but a very large flock of sheep. As a boy I can remember that shearing time was a big affair at the Haddow farm.

In 1925 tragedy struck the family when the oldest son Tom, just 3 months short of his twenty-second birthday, died of a ruptured appendix. In September of that year Tom had been working as a miner at one of the recently re-opened gold mines in Virginiatown. While in the camp he began to develop stomach pains and as the condition worsened he decided to leave the mine site and head home to Milberta.

The return trip must have been brutal, with the last few miles covered on foot. He arrived home on September 17 and unaware that her son was dying of appendicitis, my grandmother Elizabeth tried a number of home remedies including plasters. When it became apparent that Tom’s condition was getting worse he was loaded onto a wagon and taken the 8 miles into New Liskeard where there was a small hospital.

It was here six days after he had staggered home, that he died. He was buried in the Milberta Cemetery not far from the family farm and would one day be joined by his brother Roy and my father Wilfred Haddow.