The Porous Border

I had the privilege a few years ago to hear Randy William Widdis speak at a local family history workshop. I had come to the workshop for several reasons, including him. Why? His topic was "The Porous Border: Migration Back & Forth Across the Canadian/U.S. Line". As you might imagine, that got me VERY interested, with my own family history following that path on my mother's side. It was a theme common to many early settlers to St. Vincent and indeed throughout Kittson County.

Widdis did his dissertation on seven counties in New York and five in Ontario on migrations patterns back and forth. One county he did it in was where Syracuse, NY is. Some immigrants went to Watertown, NY, some to Syracuse, NY.

Some highlights:

- He found patterns where certain counties in Canada went to certain counties in NY. The same was true for those Ontario emigrants coming to St. Vincent, i.e., coming from the same towns.

- He found that those that went to NY migrated in increments, whereas those that went to our area came directly here.

- Those that went to urban areas tended to be single men, while those that went to rural areas tended to be families.

- Canadians that migrated to NY tended to retain their Canadian citizenship, while those that came to our area tended to give it up and become American citizens.

- He found that our area was more embracive to the Anglo-Canadian immigrants than the NY communities were.

Land was the big draw to our area, and when land was opened up and advertised far and wide, the Anglo-Canadians (a great many who were Irish) flocked to our area. English/Irish/Scot Canadian surnames made up a majority of early settlers in St. Vincent. Although outnumbered by Minneapolis/St. Paul's Irish community, percentage-wise, we led the way.

The Maggie Neill Letters II

Maggie Neill wrote letters to the Gamble family all her life. The Gambles left Ontario in the late 1870's when Maggie was just a young girl, and her last letter was shortly before she passed away. In my opinion, the motivation behind the Gamble letters was Maggie, and we have her most of all to thank for the chronicling of early St. Vincent daily life we have seen reflected in those older letters.

I've decided to share the rest of her later letters in one posting. By this time, Maggie was starting to feel her years. She hadn't expected to live this long, but she did. The one thing that most people have in common as they get older is the realization that they feel inside the same as they were when they were young, that there is never enough time, and that getting old, well...sucks, to put it plainly! I've yet to hear an elderly person proclaim it is their truly 'Golden Years'. You'll see in Maggie's letters that she is striving to remain independent, and to stave off loneliness...

Beaverton
March 7/45

Dear Alice -

I was pleased to hear from you at Xmas & hope you will write soon again. I daresay you have read of our big storms this winter. We had a hard time digging ourselves out of the snow banks.

Beaverton has been hit hard by the war. About a dozen boys won’t come back - they died overseas & some are prisoners & some missing.

I would like to hear how your lads are getting on. Hope you are all well.

M. Neill

(This was on back of a postcard)


Beaverton
August 25th, 1945

Dear Alice,

I was pleased to get your letter, and hope this finds you all well and the boys back home. A number of the Beaverton boys have come back, but about a dozen lost their lives overseas, among them the United Church minister’s son - an only child - and an Anglican minister’s son.

Some have been prisoners so they must be glad the war is over. I never heard what became of your uncle Alicks boys who enlisted.

I never hear from any of your people excepting once in a while from Mrs. Ladyman. I see by the papers there was a terrible railway accident in Dakota. I have not been on a train for years. I am feeling my age now - 85 yrs. But am doing my own work yet.

This has been a very cool, very wet summer. To-day we are having a thunder storm & quite heavy rain so I may not get to the post office this evening. Thanks for the clipping sent. I put it in my book. Would be pleased to hear from you soon again. I remain
yours affectionately
Margaret Neill.


Beaverton
February 5th 1946
To Mrs. Alice Edkins

Dear Alice

I was pleased to hear from you again but sorry to hear of your bereavement.

It is hard to see those near and dear to us passing away. I was pleased to hear you had one of your sons home with you at the last. I hope the other son may soon get home too.

I think most of the Beaverton boys are home now but about a dozen died overseas, all fine young fellows they were too.

The United Church minister’s only child - a Captain in the Air Force - is gone. His plane went down over Germany they say.

I had a letter from Mae the other day. They have had colds she said. Jean and Rae have settled in Hamilton, and are going to build a house there - a five room bungalow. Rae got his old position back. I never hear from any of the other Gambles now.

I think the weather about the worst I can remember, this last month or so. And fuel is very scarce which makes the situation worse. We had learned to depend on coal or coke but there is neither for sale here at present, and no word of any coming in.

I have a little coal and wood yet The snow drifts are so deep we can’t get the trucks to come nearer than the boulevards. I began this letter on Tuesday and it is now Wednesday evening and rainy after all the frost. I hope tomorrow won’t be icy so we can get down town, as there are puddles on the streets now.

I will enclose a little valentyne in this. Write soon again.
Yours Sincerely Margaret Neill

(Alice’s husband, Percy Edkins, had passed away 11-27-45. His son, William, was given a leave from the Army Air Corps to come home for the funeral. Their other son, Robert, was stationed in Japan)


Beaverton
Jan. 1949
To Mrs. Alice Edkins

Dear Alice

I was much pleased to hear from you again.

I am not staying in my own house at present. Since the first of April I have been living in a nursing home in town - on Simcoe St. I will be 89 years old next Sunday if I am spared. There are seven other old ladies here at present. We each pay 15 dollars a week.

I just had to lock up my house with everything in it. I did not like to leave it, but help is impossible to get now here and I could no longer keep house alone. I have not seen Mrs. Ladyman for a long time. I am lonesome for my own home of course.

We have to stay in bed every day. There is no cure for old age. I never hear from any of the Gamble family but Mae’s people. I hope your boys are getting along all right. Would be pleased to hear from you whenever you can write.

I got twenty-five Xmas cards and a number of parcels. I could not get out to buy any myself. They are as good to us here as people would be anywhere, I guess. We try to help ourselves as much as possible. Our old neighbors are good to call on us.

I cannot do anything but read - I don’t try to write much. I have no spectacles yet. I have my second sight I suppose, so I can read.

We have lots of snow here now - I supposed my house is snowed in. Well, wishing you all a very happy New Year. I remain yours affectionately
Margaret Neill.


Beaverton, Ontario
November 28, 1949

Dear Mrs. Edkins,
Having promised to let you know from time to time how Miss Neill was getting along, this is to say that the doctor telephoned me yesterday afternoon to let me know that she was taken quite ill. I had been up to see her a few days before and she was sitting up in bed, reading some of her clippings that she had ready for a scrapbook and in spite of a slight cold that did not seem to be bothering her much. She was as chatty and as alert as ever.

The news of her illness was, therefore, a complete surprise to me, so I went at once. Mrs. Teer said that the doctor had pronounced it a touch of pneumonia which, at her age, might be very, very serious. She had no temperature to speak of but not being able to get rid of the phlegm (as is the case with so many elderly people) her breathing was a bit laboured at times. As she did not find it too easy to talk, I told her not to and that I would do the talking for both of us. She did not seem to be in pain at all, but I fancy her goitre may be adding to the distress in breathing at times. She was quite rational of course, and seemed to be glad to see me, but the doctor thinks that she may not be able to regain her strength at all. Mrs. Teer was not so pessimistic, but at her age - she will be ninety in January, as you know - anything may happen, so I wanted to let you know how things were with her.

I telephoned Mrs. Teer as early as possible this morning and she said things were about the same. I am going up again as soon as I finish this and will post it on the way. This is the first outgoing mail since I knew of her illness.

Last night I telephoned Mrs. Ladyman in Toronto. She has a nasty cold herself and wanted to do anything possible, but as no one can do anything at the moment I will let her know each day how things go. Anything Mrs. Ritchie and I can do, of course we will attend to. We are both fond of Miss Neill who has been our neighbor for so long and feel so very, very badly that she is so ill.

With kindest regards to your son as well as to yourself.
Sincerely yours,
Mary Ritchie

(There was one more letter from Mrs. Ritchie, written the following day to let Alice know that Maggie had died that day - the 29th...)

St. Vincent Snapshots

The best shot yet of the St. Vincent-Pembina ferry; the only way for most residents to traverse the river for business or pleasure before there were bridges.
Yes, believe it or not, St. Vincent once had a bank!

NOTE: Photos supplied by descendents of the Gamble Family

News Clippings: 1893 & 1950

Experiences of an English Soldier

Long-time readers of this blog will well remember the letters of the Gamble Family.

Letters are powerful demonstrations of history. Letters bring obscure and dusty facts to life, and flesh to the bones of names.

WWI: Experience of an English Soldier is one such blog. The blog has been publishing the letters of one WWI soldier on the comparable dates they were originally published. You get to know the soldier - William Henry Bonser Lamin, or Harry - as he shares his experiences in training, and on the battlefield.

Border Lines

For those of us who grew up on the US/Canadian border, John Mahoney's Border Lines rings a very familiar bell.

John also does a local news and history blog for his area in northern Vermont and touches on the Quebec area he borders. I definitely feel a kindred soul in John. Be sure and check him out!

Profile: Margaret "Toots" Ryan

My grandmother had many friends in St. Vincent. When I think back about it, she and my grandfather pretty much knew everyone and everone knew them. She would often go visiting, or have others visiting her. It was part of everyday life. One such person she knew was Toots, her neighbor.

Toots (Margaret) Ryan and her brother Andy lived north of Grandpa and Grandpa Fitzpatrick's main street home, right across a little alley running east to west most of the length of the town. Margaret was not just a neighbor, but a friend with Grandma. Another family in town called the Friebohles were close to Toots and helped her out with things like taking her to the store, church, etc.

I remember Toot's backdoor steps, very steep and high, but still not quite high enough to reach the door stoop, so one would have to take a very large step up and in. In my mind's eye, I can still see Toots coming out, and it was a bit hard for her since she was a short woman. Many was the time in the summer when I was little, where I would come down the road from our house four blocks north, to visit my Grandma; if she wasn't home, I'd fly out the back door, the screendoor slamming behind me, and run north across that alley and up those steps, to find her visiting with her friend. I remember both of them as seemingly always in an apron, and maybe they were, ready for work around their homes.

Toot's house was small compared to houses today, but for the time, it was very nice with high ceilings and large windows, with a good size kitchen and front sitting room. In that room was an old piano that had real ivory keys, just as many keys missing the ivory as had 'em. Even as a little girl, I could see that this piano was special and not like new ones. It may have seen better days, but it was a link to the past, a mysterious and special past in my little girl's mind. It was so out of tune it sounded like a honkytonk piano in an old west saloon with it's fascinating old round stool with claw feet. The parlour it was in had old persian carpets, thread-worn but still elegant. In the kitchen was an old porcelain sink with its hand pump - no faucets.

Toot's brother Andy worked for the railroad and was gone a lot, or so it seemed to me. I remember him as a large bear of a man dressed in overalls and an engineer's striped cap. The siblings lived together and neither had ever married, for whatever reasons. It wasn't so unusual back then for that to be the case. I remember Toots herself as being a short rather round woman, with white medium-lenth hair worn loose. When she smiled, which was often, she showed some missing teeth, which made her all the more interesting to a little girl like me.

I once was staring at her in her own parlour, just having played with her piano, during a visit with my Mom and Grandma. I looked at her and said, during a pause in the adults' conversation, "You're fat!" She laughed, and I got quiet, but I still thought she was fat. I wasn't trying to be mean, I was simply amazed. I had just realized in my 5-year-old mind, how definitely round she was, and I didn't know anyone else like that. My Mom scolded me, saying in a raised voice, "Patricia Kaye!"  Toots decided there and then to call me after an old Wrigley's gum brand. She replied, "Yes I am, PK Gum!"

A House in Noyes

There is a house in Noyes (I think it is still there...) that a good friend and her family used to live in. They weren't the first family to live there, nor probably the last. But this story isn't about the residents; it's about the house itself.

The house was two full storeys plus a full attic with dormers, large enough to serve as another bedroom or a study. It was spacious and well laid out. It was a shock when I found out it was a prefabricated home...and that it was made by Sears!

Prefabricated homes have never been widely popular due to many reasons, but this example made a positive impression on me. I spent many days there, riding my horse from St. Vincent over to Noyes to visit my friend during summer days in 1975/1976.

Lynch Mob

Louis Olson, also known as Louis Gunderson, was lynched in Olga, Cavalier County’s largest city. Olson was said to have murdered Susan McEwen at her homestead shack by Rosa Lake. Before the four special constables could take Olson to the county jail in Pembina, a crowd of angry Rosa Lake folks showed up. This mob of supposed justice-seekers somehow managed to pull Olsen from his constable escorts and, with rope in hand, headed to a nearby grove of trees.

From Dakota Datebook

Sheriff Charley Brown: Chapter XIII

Chuck Walker, aka Charles Harris Walker, emailed me on Sunday past and in passing mentioned his book is in print. Well for Pete's sake, I didn't know it was actually out! He mentioned earlier in the summer it had been accepted for publication, but it's actually out there now. Congratulations, Chuck!

And now, for the next installment from the book...

It was the day after Christmas when Charley learned of Marguerite's drive to Emerson with the tall machinery salesman. Jim White, the proprietor of the hotel at Huron City entered Charley's saloon shortly after the noon hour.

He greeted Charley loquaciously as he removed his heavy coat. "Must be thirty below outside; the wind tears right through a man. I'm going to thaw out and have a shot before going over to Myrick's store to stock up."

Charley had never warmed to White, considering him bluff and overbearing, prone to run roughshod over any dissenting voice or person. The fact that he pimped for prostitutes at his hotel also gritted Charley. He could see a woman running that sort of business, but not a man. "How come you're shopping in Pembina? Thought you bought all of your supplies in West Lynne or Emerson."

White tossed his coat over a nearby chair before answering. "Business has been slow and I was getting cabin fever. Just had to get out for a change, besides, I have to see Booker over at the bank." He grinned maliciously, "See you've lost your girl friend."

"What girl friend?"

"Don't you and that Grant girl go out together?"

"Occasionally. Just what are you driving at?"

White was still smiling. "Driving is what they were doing Christmas afternoon. They went by my place on the way to Emerson. Didn’t see them come back either."

Charley was bemused. "Who are they?"

“Your girl friend and that machinery salesman who’s been hanging around town. That's who!"

This news failed to surprise Charley. He looked defensively at White. "I guess she's got a right to go with any man she chooses. She's not married."

White snapped his fingers as he turned to John who was puttering behind the bar, "Gimme a shot of rye, Johnny. Better yet, bring the bottle and an extra glass for Charley."

Charley held up his hand. "Hold the extra glass." Lifting his eyes to White, he said, "I never drink when I'm working. A bartender who drinks doesn't last long."

White had hoped his news of Marguerite's outing with Paul Evans would pique Charley, wounding his pride. Charley's apparent lack of concern nettled him. "Figured you and that Grant girl would get married some day. She's a good looker."

"You figured wrong, furthermore it's none of your business."

"Oh hell!" White tossed off his drink and arose to his feet. "Thought you might want to know about it."

"Well, I don't. People should mind their own business and stay out of mine."

White angrily reached for his coat, then he approached the bar to drop a coin. Stopping at the door he turned to face Charley, "I'll come back when you're in a better mood." Chortling to himself he closed the door, knowing he had accomplished his purpose; he had stuck it to Charley.

"Don't let that joker bother you." John spoke from behind the bar.

"I've given it a lot of thought, John. Marguerite is a fine girl, but I'm not cut out for marriage. I'm too old, and it's too much of a change to hitch up. She wants marriage and kids; it's best she has a chance at it. That Evans seems like a good sort and he's got a promising job. I spoke with Webb, he handles the McCormick line of machinery. He said Evans seemed a square shooter -- said he kind of took to the chap."

"Cripes Charley, to me marriage is a piece of cake. Some men think nothing of dipping their tally in a honey pot when they're young, but 'taint until he becomes older that he appreciates a real woman. Lots of men wait until they are thirty before getting hitched. Puppy love is fine when you're a kid, but as the years go by you realize and appreciate your commitment to a real woman. Why, I can hardly remember being single, and that old saying: When I was single my pockets did jingle, is all crap. I was always broke before I met Hannah."

Charley reached up to press his temple. "I'm going to try and forget her -- give her a chance to meet others. She wants children, she's told me so; she'll marry one of these days."