Fanny and Silas Heacock and Family

By Margaret Cambourne, 1980

December 5, 1885, Mother was born Fanny Campbell, daughter of Angus Campbell and the former Mary Ruston, in Albion Township; the area known as Black Horse. At the age of five she moved with her family to Kettleby, to the farm at the corner of the 4^th and Gamble Road, now called Mulock Sideroad. She attended S.S. No. 11 King School, as did Dad.

June 15, 1882, Dad was born Silas Jefferson Heacock, son of Wilford and the former Eleanor Hollingshead, on the farm at the north east corner of the 4^th and Aurora Road.

Mother remembered walking to school in her bare feet when you could see the footprints in the frost. Shoes were hard to come by in those days with a large family to clothe. Her parents used to drive to Newmarket with horse and buggy and buy what they thought would fit, and you wore them no matter how they hurt. She talked of having shoes so tight that she carried them when walking to Sunday School, and put them on just before reaching the door.

Mother was sent off to work on another farm at an early age, she mentioned working for a Bogart family and later for a banker in Bradford. She said she would have starved there, if the man hadn’t checked to see what was left for her. His wife could care less whether she ate of not. I think she was eighteen when she left there; her dad collected her wages until then. Now she was of age, and couldn’t wait to get away.

She went to Toronto and got work in a clothing manufacturing firm; I think she called it Cavendish House. It was not supposed to be an apprenticeship shop, but she managed to get herself transferred to different departments until she learned the dress making trade. I don’t know how may years she stayed there, but during that time she boarded with the Cook family; Fred, his wife Lena, and daughter Lynafred. They were wonderful people and she had a happy home with them and they remained friends for life.

Sometime before she married, she came home and started sewing in the area. She talked of sewing in the Eversley district and of being with a family when someone came down with diphtheria, so of course she was quarantined with them and helped to nurse them. She then got it herself. She lost most of the hearing in one ear as a result of that.

In 1912 she married Dad. They bought a house (this house) from J. M. Walton. It was mother’s money that paid for the house as dad’s money was going into a threshing machine. He had gone into partnership with William Curtis, a brother of Frank, and wanted to buy him out an go on his own; which he did.

They were married in Newmarket, driving out with horse and cutter. This was February 14, 1912. They went to a photographer for pictures, and then directly home again. A week or two later they were given the usual “Charivari” and were presented with a writing desk.

Mother continued with her sewing and built up a large clientele, while dad worked in the sawmills in the winters and threshed in summer and fall.

Before Dad married, he spent several harvests out west; we found a certificate which permitted him to operate a steam engine in the province of Saskatchewan the year of 1906. He also spent some time in Manitoba living with aunt and uncle, Mary and Dennis Elliott, and their daughters Gladys and Girlie. I’m not sure if Wilford was there. One of the boys he made friends with came to see us when we visited Gladys in 1967; a Mr. Cruikshank.

Mother began working in the Methodist Church ladies group, known as the Ladies Aide, and later the W.M.S. , and also the Women’s Institute for many years. She must have made dozens of crazy quilts for the WMS bales, using scraps of material left from her sewing. Mother also made quite a number of hooked rugs using all wool material, most of it from dad’s long woolen underwear, which she dyed to suit the colours on the rugs’ canvas; designs were stamped on. At one time, we had eight or ten of these scatter rugs down in the living room; some are still in existence.

Almost as long as I can remember, mother taught a Sunday School class of girls, and at Christmas time they would put on a drill which came at the end of the concert, held in the Temperance Hall. Some of the drills (marching drills) I recall, were The Fan, The Hoop and the Scarf. Mother used to make cheese cloth dresses for the girls trimmed with tinsel. Quite often the drills would finish with a Tableau.

The 24^th of May concert or play was an annual event for many years; These were also held in the Hall. Mother seemed to be the director for a number of them and the players practiced at our place during the winter when the hall was too cold. Two plays that I recall the titles of , were “The Minister’ Bride”, staring Mr. A. Marshall, and Mildred Dutcher, and “Aaron Slick from Pumpkin Creek”; Wesley Walls.

When I was still quite young, Mrs. Cook – “Toronto”, suggested one summer that mother might be able to handle a group of Boy Scouts for a weekend; they could sleep upstairs in the garage on makeshift beds, and be able to enjoy the country; something some of them had never done. So there began the work of cleaning up, hunting up feather ticks and mattresses, and supplying food. What a time! Next thing we knew, Lynafred wanted to bring her CGIT girls for a weekend. These girls came from poor families in downtown Toronto, and most had never had a summer holiday. Mother decided it was easier for us to move to the garage, and let the girls have the upstairs. They were supposed to bring their own food, but mother gave them one big meal and supplemented the others. They wanted to contribute to the Sunday night Church service; sometimes they took complete charge with the Minister’s blessing of course. These CGIT annual weekends went on until after I was married. Finally Mother had to say NO, she’d had enough. I don’t think any of them realized the amount of work they caused her. The last few times they came, they stayed at the Hall, but we still had to carry bedding etc. for them.

At one point, Mother was caretaker for the Church. The service was at night then, and in those days, Alladin Lamps supplied the light. What a chore it was to keep them operating. The floor was unpainted wood, also a trial; once a year the women of the congregation met with pails, soap, scrub brushes to help with the cleaning; of course there was no water, so it had to be carried from a neighbouring house or brought in milk cans.

In July or August, it was customary to pick your own wild raspberries for canning. Mrs. Cook came up from Toronto and we packed lunches, and laden with pails, walked to the Walton brush where berries grew in abundance. We picked all day, then carried them home and canned them. Some fun.

Dad had some threshing customers that paid part of their bills by supplying us with a pig or ¼ of beef, potatoes and apples. Dad cut up the pig and mother smoked hams, made sausage, headcheese and something called wurst; although she didn’t use the liver in it. We dried apples in the winter. Dad made a big rack with coarse screen which hung over the cook stove. We had bags of them and when the drought hit the west in the 1930’s, a lot of them were sent out to needy relatives along with clothes and other necessities. In fact this area packed a box car with food and supplies. It left from King City station and went to Saskatchewan where ministers saw to its distribution. Mother was able to direct her barrel to her family; her parents, three sisters and a brother.

Once in a while, Mother and I would go to Toronto to the Cooks where she would make dresses for Mrs. Cook and Lynafred. I remember Mrs. Cook took me to my first movie; Mary Pickford in “Pollyanna”. Another time we all went to Perth Avenue Church to hear Jack Miner speak; it was in the early days of his bird sanctuary at Kingsville.

Mr. Cook was a conductor with the TTC having started when the cars were horse drawn; he was lots of fun, and a tease. I always enjoyed those times. I should say here, that sometimes when we went to Toronto we took the Schomberg Car to Oak Ridges, then the radial to the north Toronto station, which was then at St. Clair Avenue, and from there you used the TTC. Dad usually came with us for a weekend.

The “Exhibition” was one time Dad would take a holiday. For many years I can recall we took our lunch, parked on the grounds and stayed for the grand stand and fireworks. Usually another couple went along. Dad spent most of his time around the machinery display.

Mother and I spent quite a few winters alone when Dad went to work at the sawmills up north. Bethany and Coldwater are two names I remember. It was difficult for him to get home and sometimes he only made it once a month. Mother was very independent, or perhaps I should say self-reliant. It was a good thing; she had lots of opportunity to practice her ability.

In the late nineteens or early twenties, Dad decided to improve the house. He built a big kitchen with bedrooms over it; a wood shed at the back, a front verandah, and side porch. The whole house was then covered with clapboard and painted white with a reddish brown trim. A little later he built the garage after taking down the old stable. Several years later he put hardwood floors in the front part of the house --- I remember that Mother was to have the March Ladies Aide meeting so things were rushed, and a s a result the finishing job was not as dry as it should have been. The day after the meeting, Mother was faced with the task of scraping off the finish and starting again.

There was a baby boy born a little over a year after me, but he took convulsions and died at two days of age. He was given the name of John Jefferson. I don’t know if the birth was ever registered. Then in the middle of all the house building, Mother had a miscarriage, so that accounted for the long time between Earl and I. Earl was a sickly baby. They couldn’t find a formula to suit him, and when at three months he weighed less than at birth, they took him to Mrs. Dr. Devins, newly come to Aurora, and was trained in baby care. Mother always credited her with saving Earl’s life.

Earl had the Cull boys for playmates; Jim and Lewis. They were older but liked his wagon, so he went with it. How they ever avoided breaking their necks, I’ll never know; the way they charged down the hill on it. When Donald Murray arrived on the scene, he and Earl seemed to hit it off and they got into a lot of mischief together.

I think it was the fall of 1927, that Dad had a serious accident. He attempted to shove a big belt that ran the threshing machine, back into place without shutting down the machine. It flew off, clapping him over the head, knocking him unconscious and breaking his arm. He was rushed to Newmarket hospital where he remained unconscious for about five days. He was not expected to live. He came around eventually. Mother spent quite a few nights at Vernon Mounts who lived right across from the hospital at that time. I remember Mary West stayed with us nights. When Dad finally came home, I was afraid of him, he looked so dreadful, black and blue all over. Charley West was helping Dad at the time and with some other help, they managed to finish the threshing. Dad had Frank Cull, Elwood Davis, George Ferguson at different times.

In January 1928 before Dad was really well, the parsonage was burned. He thought he should go to the fire to help, but Mother put a stop to that. But to soothe his feelings a bit, Mother brought the firemen down here for lunch afterwards. It gave him a chance to hear it all first hand.

Dad seemed to be accident prone. He had some minor ones before this, then in the mid forties, he had a tree fall on him when he was helping Tom Greensides down in the flats; another broken arm and collar bone. In the fifties, he fell off the shed roof at Earl’s and fractured his pelvis and broke his shoulder. We always said he would never die in an accident; he’d had so many opportunities.

When the threshing business seemed to be fading out, all the good paying customers were getting combines. He sold the outfit and took up fencing and carpentry. He was very proud of his straight fence. One time to tease him, Earl remarked at suppertime that he thought the fence he had put up that day was a bit out of line. Dad nearly jumped over the table at him. Dad had a fiery temper. He didn’t take it out on people, just things; like kicking over a paint can, then having to clean it up; tramping the blower pipes on the threshing machine and then having to spend his lunch hour straightening them out. After his big accident, he was much subdued. The accident left him with periods of severe headaches which made him really ill for days at a time.

Dad bought the lot up street where Earl and Lorna are, from J. M. Walton. He put up a large shed for his truck and machine. Later it was used to store his Lundy Fence. After the shed was built, he started on a house. He spent several years building it; just worked on it in his spare time. It was expected that he and Mother would move up there, before it was finished, Mother had a stroke, so the move never came about.

I have little memory of Earl’s growing years as I went to Toronto to work just before I was eighteen. I do know he worked at Sismans for a time after leaving high school, and boarded with Aunt Effie Charles, Georgie and Bernice. In November 1941, he came to Toronto and worked for a while at Loblaws. So we were in the city at the same time. The war was on at this time, and as soon as he was able, he joined the Air Force, training as a tail gunner.

George and I were married June 1942. We lived for a year and a half at the Marshall house. George was doing the farming, as Ray was getting into the chicken business. I helped with the house and cooking; the workers were boarded at that time. Elizabeth was born while we were there, but before Gary came along, we moved in here with Mother and Dad. By this time, Mothers arthritis was giving her a lot of pain, and she needed daily help with a number of jobs.

I remember Elizabeth was thirteen months old on Earl’s last day home before going overseas. According to my diary, he went over on the “Empress of Scotland”, formerly “Empress of Japan”, and when he returned, it was on the “Acquitania”. I remember packing Ditty bags for him and others. We sewed them up in heavy cotton, as paper could be torn away. Just before the end of the war he plane crashed, and he was in hospital for sometime. The gun sight had gone into his face, missing his eye. By the time he recovered, the war in Europe was over, so he signed up for duty in the East. He got home on leave in June, he left again in July, but the war with Japan ended in August, so by September he was discharged and home again. He took a course in accounting in Toronto and started working in the office of the Hatchery, but didn’t like it. He started driving truck, then later worked at the Plant, now Whitefield Packers.

In June 1946, we got word that Mother’s sister Pauline in Saskatchewan had a stroke, so Aunt Florence and Mother decided to go out. By the time they arrived, she had died. They stayed for a month visiting other relatives. This was the only time Mother was ever outside of Ontario.

A week after Mother returned from Saskatchewan, Earl and Lorna were married – July 20, 1946. They lived for a while with the Lepards. Their three children, Linda, Harold, Larry; were born while with them. (correction: Lepards moved after Linda was born; Earl and Lorna stayed on at the apartment). When it became apparent that Mother would never be able to move, they rented the new house from Dad.

In the summer of 1950 while we had our three children at the Exhibition, Mother had a stroke. Aunt Pearl and Uncle Les Wilson found her when they came down to bring some apples. By the time we arrived home, the doctor had been out. She was in bed partially paralyzed; her face off to one side. So began nearly twelve years of inactivity for her and constant care for me.