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Duntroon and brought back Dr. Kirkland. While Dad was away I arrived hail and hearty. The Doctor pronounced everything in order and charged Dad four dollars for his visit. Grandmother was perturbed and told Dad he had more money than sense. It was hence that I was dubbed the four-dollar baby.
Times were really bad in those days. For instance, to earn a few dollars to keep the wolf from the door my father had taken on a job chopping in the bush nearby. He was paid sixty cents a day and boarded at home.
My parents later told me that I was really smart and started to walk and talk at quite an early age.
Childhood Memories
One of the earliest incidents I remember occurred in the summer of 1891. I would be about 3 1/2 years old. A couple of cousins of my Father's' Bailey by name who were photographers at Vancouver came on a visit to the old Smith home. They took pictures of Grandfather and Grandmother and Great Grand Mother. My Father took the two Bailey men to Glen Huron where they took a picture of Hamilton Brother's store with several of the Hamilton Family in the picture. Dad and I are also in that old picture. I am in the rear seated on a barrel. I have the picture in my possession.
Indians Scare Mother
While Dad and I were up at Glen Huron, my mother and Bessie, her year old baby were alone at the little farmhouse. Mother was expecting Dad and I home at any minute and on looking out the window to see if we were coming she was startled to see a group of about twenty Indian men coming towards the house. She of course was scared. Fortunately the Indians laid down on the grass about 200 yards from the house at the same time she was most glad to see Dad and I in horse and buggy coming.
Dad had been given a parcel of the Hamiltons to leave at Smithdale Post Office. He didn't notice the Indians and to Mother's horror he drove right past the gateway at the road.
Mother picked up her baby and screaming with fright she made for the road, running diagonally to cut Dad off. The Indians evidently realized they had been the cause of the trouble and jumped up and moved towards the river, which they evidently were following, east and south. I well remember seeing them move away as my Dad and I returned and comforted my Mother.
In March 1892 dad traded his fifty-acre farm for the 100 acre one where he lived the rest of his life. My brother Alfred owns this property now. I well remember the excitement of moving I was then four years old.
Father made use of me at an early age. In August 1892 he was cutting oats with the self-binder at the front of the farm at the sixth line. He saw that he was about to run out of twine. I as usual was with him in the field so he said to me "Skip up to Grandpa's and bring me back a ball of twine." Away I went. Granddad decided a five-pound ball of twine was quite a load for a four-year-old so he accompanied me back to the scene of operations and he carried the ball. I quite well remember walking along with old Grandfather on that day. He had a long whisker and I thought him a very old man. Two months later he died aged 60 years.
School Days
I started to school spring of 1894 when I was six years of age. I could count and knew my letters when I started, accordingly I progressed rapidly. In fact I was maybe too smart and it was to my disadvantage as I look back, I could only say that my school days were not too happy. I was small and learned easily. Invariably I was the head of my class. My classmates were often two to four years older than I. Accordingly they didn't like me to soar above them. I was called teacher's pet, mama's darling etc. Also because my mother had been a teacher, my classmates claimed mother helped me at home. This wasn't true. She had lots to do otherwise and besides I didn't need her help. My strong subjects were maths, literature and composition. I also excelled in spelling. My sister Bessie and I were always the finalists in the old time spelling matches. The teacher I had when I was eleven years old was a weak sister. I could have written the High School entrance exam in 1899 had she proposed so but she hesitated and thought I was so young and small and I should wait. Fortunately a wonderful teacher came to replace her at New Years 1900 and I wrote the entrance at Stayner in June and got honors. Also there were some nice tributes in local papers, as it was unusual for a 12-year-old to pass the entrance.
Then came the crisis. Dad was quite set on making me a farmer. He was on the School Board, and while he believed in good teachers and a decent education, he thought the entrance was quite enough for any farmer. Other local farmers' sons had quit school to help their dads on the farm. In fact it was the general trend. Furthermore times had been bad through the nineties and Dad felt he couldn't afford to send me to high School and pay my board. Etc.
A Compromise
Mr. Richardson my teacher had the ambition to go higher himself. He was a gifted young man. He evidently thought it would help him if he had a class such as today is called Junior High School. I returned to School along with two other boys and was under this splendid teacher for two more years. I received a grounding in math's, geometry, algebra English literature and composition, etc. The teacher complimented me one day for my composition and said I could, if I wished become a writer.
Mr. Richardson afterwards became a teacher at the University School at Toronto and many of Toronto's famous men came under his guidance.
Dad never gave up his ambition to have me quit school and help on the farm. He was a stockman and usually attended livestock shows. Quite often he took me along. In
December l 901 he took me to the stock show at Guelph. The wonderful registered cattle I saw really amazed me. I returned home and happened to say if we had registered cattle, such as we saw at Guelph I would be happy to be farmer. Dad acted quickly, and that winter he purchased three registered short horn heifers. I kept my word.
As I mentioned before, I was often the butt of bigger boys at school. I was all to often hazed by these big boys some four and five years my senior. Then, I was threatened it would get worse if I squealed. Somehow the boys learned my 14 birthday was coming up on March 12. They planned to give me the works. Frankly I was afraid and decided to beat them out of their plans. I took home all my books, and quit school forever two days before my birthday. The only further tuition I ever had was some short courses in agriculture, two weeks at U. of 0. at Guelph, and once two weeks at a course at Collingwood.
Full Fledged Farmer
I found myself a full-fledged farmer at fourteen years of age. Dad and I got along well. He asked for my opinions on everything concerning the farm operation. I had taken up
Bookkeeping in my last year at school. Accordingly Dad said I was to be the secretarytreasurer, and set up a system of our financial affairs. He also had our foundation herd of short horns, registered in the name of David Smith and Sons. It made me feel important. Dad was a progressive type and I went along with him. We built a Stave Silo about 1903. Dad bought a piano for the girls the same year. Then when Creemore installed water works about 1905 and he saw the advantage of water on tap he said, "Let us do the same". He bought a windmill, and had it installed on the well beside the house. The water was piped to both house and barn. Naturally I was proud that we were leaders in our community.
My Terrible Accident
Spring was early in 1902, which was my first year as an active farmer. Seeding was all finished by the middle of May. Rolling the newly sown fields with a heavy land roller was the final operation. Saturday May 17, I was rolling the last field (the one on the
corner opposite the post office and station). It was Uncle Reub's old wooden roller made in two sections like two huge barrels with necessary framework. The seat was an improvised affair. Dad had gone to Creemore by horse and buggy. I had just finished and my team of horses evidently knew the job was done because they perked up, as I faced them towards the barn. The roller dropped into a furrow and the seat broke. I was pitched onto the revolving roller and lost control of my team. They ran wild. Fortunately I was driving one young horse and old Kate, a family favorite. The result was the team ran in a circle. Old Kate being slow, the young horse ran around her. It didn't last long as the lines got under the roller and forced the horses to stop. I got out of my predicament myself. Fortunately the accident was seen by several. Uncle Bill was first at the scene and when he saw how I was mashed up and bleeding heavily he grabbed me and we both passed out together.
Presence of Mind
Tom Patton was the station agent and he was just about to leave the station for supper when he saw the accident, even at quite a distance he sensed it was serious. Accordingly he returned to the telegraph key and wired Creemore to rush a Doctor (note there were no telephones). Dr. Bradley had just returned from a country call and had a team of bronchos already hitched. He reached the house almost as soon as the men who carried me from the field. Dad in Creemore got the message second hand and was right behind the Doctor.
Evidently what contributed to saving my life was that the terribly lacerated arm was sheathed in mud. The dirt had played a part in stopping the flow of blood. Even the Doctor estimated I had lost two-thirds of my blood and there were no blood transfusions in those days.
Dr. Bradley gave me stimulants and tied off all severed arteries etc. He said amputation of the left arm would be necessary the next morning. The injuries included two compound fractures of the left arm as well as half the flesh torn away. My left shoulder had all flesh torn off and the collarbone broken. Fortunately my head and legs were uninjured.
Dr. Bradley asked for Dr. McFaul, the leading surgeon at Collingwood to come the next morning, to supervise the operation. Dad was frantic and called in Dr. Ball from Singhampton and Dr. McLiod of Stayner. The latter two arrived first and agreed an amputation was the thing to do. Dr. McFaul arrived and he said there was a hope to save the arm if blood poison could be prevented. He said; "Put the boy in the hospital at Collingwood under his care and he would try to save the arm". He also said he would amputate if and as a last resort. All agreed.
I was placed on the kitchen table. Dr. McFaul administered the anesthetics. Dr. Bradley connected up arteries and muscles etc. Mother told me I was five hours on the table.
It was Sunday May 18, and even though there were no telephones it was estimated 100 people were in the yard. Jim Hamilton a husky big man went and took a peep at the Doctors at work. What he saw through the window caused him to faint. They laid him out on the grass.
Monday noon, I was placed on a stretcher to go to the hospital via the noon train to Collingwood. The train obligingly stopped opposite the house and again a hundred or more were there to see the procedure. The majority was sure I was not likely to survive.
God must have had another plan for me to live. I survived both injuries and made good progress toward recovery. As I look back over sixty years to the ordeal I went through, I fully realize a miracle took place. The hospital was small, 20 beds and with little equipment. The matron was, however a wonderful woman. She gave me her personal care. Her name was Morton, Irish, Anglican and Conservative.
I loved her. Frankly, I shed tears when after five weeks I was able to return home. I shed tears now as I write this narrative. True I suffered much pain but I was brave and could take it. The story is already long but let me add a final report.
Dr. McFaul was thrilled over my progress, but he was wrong on many counts. He thought I would have a stiff arm. Then he was sure I would never be able to turn it. For a year it was crooked like a new moon, but gradually it straightened out and eventually was 90% as good as ever. Today there is no pulse to be found, and the skin surface is not sensitive to the touch. I found this out a few weeks ago when I accidentally scalded it and didn't know it for 24 hours.
A Man Again
I knew Dad's finances were depleted when all my expenses were paid. I heard later that they considered sending me to high school, but finances just wouldn't permit. In a years time I was fairly fit to take a man's place. Once again I became a full-fledged farmer and somehow I loved it.
Personally I had a desire to excel. I was usually head of my class at school and now as a farmer I had the ambition to be a leader. We had the finest herd of cattle, top grade horses etc. We exhibited horses and cattle at Collingwood Fair and the winning of a number of prizes gave me a feeling of importance. The first district agriculturist office was opened at Collingwood about 1908. We made use of the young O.A.C. graduate in farm problems and profited by his advice.
Worked Very Hard
There was no labor saving machinery in those days. Instead it was quite the thing to show off turning in a big day's work. To be candid, we worked very hard. I had fully
regained my strength by the time I was 17, and as I look back the days work I did in those years, I consider it was foolhardy.
Business Experience
In 1910 the Hisey Firm at Creemore approached Dad to be their grain buyer and shipper at Glen Huron. We took on the job, which netted us about five hundred dollars for the season from November into March. The business experience was quite good, but the work was very hard. We also bought and loaded live hogs for the firm1 and on shipping days I would pay out a thousand dollars or more to farmers, and would always balance my books.
From 1905 on, until I launched out on my own I was really busy the year round. Besides
farm operations of which I took the lead, we had the grain and live stock business at the station. For two or three years I was tax collector for West Nottawasaga at a meager salary. Also for a couple of years I was secretary-treasurer for the Nottawasaga apple growers association, also for small remuneration. The business experience however was good and served me in after years.
I was active in farm organizations and had a good stand in with Mr. Loughland, the local agricultural representative. At times I gave talks on farm topics and evidently impressed Mr. Loughland to some extent, because he recommended me as a capable speaker to the Department of Agriculture. The result was I was sent out to speak at Farmer's Club meetings in Huron, Bruce, Halton and N. Simcoe Counties. The pay was five dollars a day, and expenses. Again the experience was the best part of it.
About Love Affairs
This paragraph may make my Grandchildren smile, but up to reaching 24 years I never
really had a girl. True I had mild flirtations with two or three but it never became serious.
I was fond of dancing and attended those events at Duntroon, Singhampton, Stayner and Creemore. In those days dances were invitation affairs. I had sisters to take and at times went alone. At these dances it was custom for the boys to dance with every girl they knew. We had good fun.
Then in October 1, 1914, I rather accidentally found myself at Feversham Fall Fair. I had gone to within half a mile of that place with my team and wagon, to deliver a big wood furnace to a family who had built a new home. A hardware man at Creemore had offered me five dollars to pick up the furnace at Glen Huron Station and deliver it. I arrived at noon. The people gave me dinner and said "Come to the Fair". I remember I was not particularly well dressed, but anyway I went. I had less than a dollar in my pocket.
I was at the Fair only a half an hour when I met Alf Leach looking over the live
stock. AIf said I was the fellow he needed, to help him out because he had two girls. I
pleaded that I wasn't really dressed up but Alf said, "You are fine". "OK," I said "But can you lend me two buck, which he did. We found the girls and I was paired off with May Ferguson. We seemed to find each other congenial. I took her to supper and afterwards the wind-up, concert. Before we parted I had dated her for a trip the following Sunday. We were then going steady and became engaged.
Aunt Nell married Alex Weir in 1914 and dear old Grandmother around 75 years was left alone with Reub. Then in 1915 Reub's health cracked up. He was only 53, but had a bad case of pernicious anemia. It was in January 1916 that Grandma and Reub sent for me. They had agreed the time had come for a big change, so they asked me if I was interested in buying them out. I was thrilled. Firstly because I was sentimental and thought I would like no other farm as much as the original Smith family homestead.
The deal was made. Reub had a sale of chattels in March 1916. I was the laird of the manor and was in possession. Grandmother had a sale of her household effects in April, and said goodbye to the where she had lived for 49 years. I had at first hoped, to get married in June but after Grandma moved out my mother came up with me on Sunday and we realized the house was in terrible condition. The wallpaper was old and dirty. A genuine face lifting was necessary. I worked in the fields all day and nights and Sundays found me taking off wallpaper. Some rooms had three layers of paper and what a job. Worst of all my funds were quite low. My bursary from home was $2000 as a down payment on the farm and four horses worth about $500.
I bought a nice stove and a new bed and mattress, and also some of Grandmother's tables and chairs at her sale. I had also bought at Reub's sale chattels amounting to about $500, with payment due in November. Realizing it was a cold house I ordered storm windows and then had old John Benelle hang paper and glaze the stormsash. I planned to get married at Christmas. As I had no bush I bought a ton of coal @$6.50. Unfortunately the entire 1916 crop was quite a failure. I really had nothing to sell after buying a new suit and overcoat and some incidentals. I was down to less than $100.
The wedding was delayed. For personal reasons May said she didn't want to get married at Christmas. She decided on January 10,and so it was. We were married on a very cold day at Duntroon. It was a quiet wedding on a Wednesday. Brother Ernie and Marian Ferguson whom he later married were the attendants. There being no wedding guests presents were very few. Also showers for brides had not been invented at that time. By to-day's standards May had a very limited amount of the usual household gadgets.
For our wedding trip we went by CNR to Guelph and London, but mostly to May's cousin at St. Thomas. We returned to the old homestead, and was the old house ever cold. The coal range heated the living room well but the bedroom above was cold. Uncle
Reub who had started to live with his brother Bill called one day, and when we told him our bedroom was cold he opened his heart and said, "Go down to my bush and find a dead tree and try burning wood". I did this and the change was wonderful. I found out there is little heat off stovepipes when one burns coal, but lots of heat when you burn wood.
We had a fair crop in 1917, and right away I decided to do something to make the house warmer. This job was carried out in the summer of 1918 and cost around $500. Talk about starting up on a shoestring. Well, we did it and survived. We both worked very hard and I must have got a great deal of help from my home folk. Our first baby was coming in the autumn and preparations had to be made.
Fortunately, we had a big crop in 1918 and prices were good. We were well established and great were our expectations. Then the flu hit. People were dying everywhere. Two Doctors at Stayner got the bug and died. I was scared stiff. Good old Dr. Bradley of Creemore was our Doctor, and with a baby coming he told me to stay at home and avoid contacts. He called at the home every week and figured out that our first born would arrive about October 13. He suggested a nurse and one who had not been exposed to the flu bug.
The arrival of David Angus on October 27th appeared to his proud parents the most wonderful event that ever happened. The new member of the Smith clan had the distinction, of being the first of the clan of the 5th generation to live on the farm, of the pioneer ancestors.
The First World War armistice happened two weeks after David's birth. Fortunately we escaped the flu bug and things generally were good. The old farm paid off in 1918-19 but then the depression started, and to make matters worse my health was miserable. I had to live on a restricted diet. My trouble was a Duodenal Ulcer, but it took twelve years before the Doctors diagnosed the trouble. I also had chronic appendix trouble, and in March 1921 I went to the Collingwood Hospital under Dr. McFaul and had my appendix removed. The surgeon also removed my tonsils at the same time. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone else. The Doctor said he felt sure I was then likely to have good health but he was all wrong. The old internal pains returned, and I just couldn't keep up with the necessary farm work.
The doctor and several friends advised me to quit the farm and go into some other line of work. Frankly I was quite perturbed. I had no training for anything else. I went to my mother and she said "You are now 35 years old, and if you feel unable to farm, the sooner you pick some other vocation the better".
It was about December 1, 1923 that I went into the Creemore Star Office to pay up my subscription. Mrs. Carlton and her son were running the business. Mr. Carlton had died two years before. I found her in bad humor. Straight away she said, "I wish you or someone else would buy me out". She said "Give me eight thousand and it's yours". I didn't let on but frankly I was interested. The next day I called on the Anglican Minister because I knew he had been a printer. I told him about my health and finances and asked for his opinion. He told me the Creemore Star was down at the heel. In fact he said it was a mess. But he considered there were great possibilities. Then to get another publisher's viewpoint I got on the train and visited the Alliston editor because I had heard he had come up to the Star office to do some repair job. Like the preacher he said the Star was at low ebb but there were good possibilities, under good management. He valued it at $7000 for machinery and building. I, of course talked it over with my family and within a week I went in and made an offer of $7000 - two thousand cash and balance in abeyance until one year later to be arranged. She accepted.
I made an estimate of my assets and hoping to sell the farm considered I was worth $7000. I went to the bank and found the Manager cooperative. He would loan me $2000. Signed, sealed and delivered I was the owner of the Creemore Star. The $2000 loan from the bank was the down payment. I took over on January 10th, 1924. My knowledge of the business was nil, except that I felt confident I could write. It was in favor that the business was at low ebb. I kept the same two boys. Ken Carlton and "Stiff".
My hope was to hold an auction sale in March, and also sell the farm. For two months I went up and down daily on the good old train. May and the children stayed on the farm until late in March.
I should mention that a depression was on. Anyways my sale went over and I was able to pay off the bank. But not a single prospect wanted to buy the farm. I finally leased it.
George Coupland, a kindly old man had built a new house near the Caroline Street Bridge. It was all finished but bricking. He heard I wanted to rent a house, and offered me his new house for $16 a month. We took possession late in March.
I pepped up the Star, and added several new subscribers, but after three or four months I realized things were in a rut. I sought advice from other publishers, and they told me frankly that two boys on the staff were very inefficient. They advised me to fire the two boys and hire one good man.
I took Ken into my confidence one day in May, and when I outlined my plans he got mad and walked out, never to return. In the mean time Mrs. Carlton was boasting that she would soon have the business again, as well as the $2000 deposit.
Fortunately, by advertising I located and hired a young man from Wallaceburg. He was going to study medicine in the autumn but agreed to stay four months. He was very good and being mechanically inclined fixed up the machinery. Then in September, I got Frank Paterson.
It was my ambition to learn the printing trade myself, but Paterson discouraged me. He was an excellent man and capable of handling every department. He said for me to run the front office, do the waiting etc. and let him handle the mechanical end without interference. I agreed, and things then progressed very well.
Fortunately for me George Kembar came to see me and asked if I needed money. I of course said yes. Accordingly he agreed to loan me $5000 at 6% and take a mortgage on the building and machinery. This was duly arranged, and when December came I paid Mrs. Carlton off in full, much to her disappointment. Mr. Kembar also told me he was in no hurry for return of principle, as long as I paid the interest he would be happy.
The business picked up and I bought my first car in 1925. A model "T" Ford sedan. I believe it was the first sedan in Creemore. Before that , all were touring cars. After getting a car I visited other editors at Allsiton, Barrie, Dundalk etc. and humbly asked for advice. They all advised me to join the weekly press association and attend meetings. They told me the members always got free transportation to their meetings.
In the mean time my printer Mr. Patterson was very satisfactory. He knew the business from A to Z and his advice was usually right. I guess I was stupid but it never dawned on me that he was an alcoholic, and for his first ten months with me I didn't even know he would take a drink.
As I said business was improving and when I learned the C.W.N.A. Convention was to be at Winnipeg in August 1925, I had desire to attend. We had worked hard and felt the need of a holiday. Charlie was just a year old, our friends encouraged us to go, and May's people on the farm agreed to keep the David, Mary, Margaret and Charlie. Patterson said go and assured me he could run the business while May and I were away.
If ever there were a couple of green horns they were May and I when we boarded a sleeping car at Toronto. Sleeping and dining on a train was a first experience but we muddled through. We were both thrilled beyond words. The CPR Public Relations Official invited us to a cocktail party in his suite at the Fort Garry. In a brief address he told us that if any in our party would like to proceed further west, he would gladly issue us free passes. It was all amazing to us.
In our room later May said how nice it would be if we would take a side trip up to Indian Head, and visit her cousin George Ferguson. I agreed, and the next morning I went to the CPR suite and got two passes to Regina. I had learned from such mentors, as Dave Williams of Collingwood that when you are given passes as guests of the Railway Company you are expected to travel in the Parlor Car. Accordingly when the clerk made out our passes he said, of course you will want chairs. I said sure and the charge for these was $2 each.
Away we went across the prairie. We had dinner on the train and arrived at Indian Head about 9 PM. We had wired ahead that we were coming so Cousin George was at the station to meet us. He looked for us to get off the Day Coach, and then when he saw us get off at the rear with colored porters attending us, he apparently was a little peeved. On the way to his home he told us he had never ridden in a parlor car in his life. We knew he was a wealthy man, and he no doubt thought we were a bit snooty.
Anyways we had a nice visit. He drove us around the country including Fort Quapelle where we visited the Hamiltons. The next day we went into Regina and looked over the city. Saw Charlie Leach and Bob Brown before returning to the Head.
The next day we started homeward. We had our trip home to include the boat trip from Port Arthur to Sarnia. Our reservations were all arranged at Port Arthur. We went on board the old "Normie". This luxurious boat later burned in Toronto harbour.
The boat trip was also a first experience and we enjoyed it. In fact we were now seasoned travelers. It was a glorious holiday outing and the entire trip only cost around $100.
The first trip whetted our appetite to do it again, accordingly in after years we attended conventions in leading cities from Halifax to Victoria. The company was congenial and we made many warm friends.
In the late twenties I had some labour problems. My foreman, Frank Patterson became a confirmed alcoholic. I had taken Russell More on as an apprentice and also a year later my nephew Alvin McGibbon. Then one day my main man Patterson went away and never came back. He left his wife and two children in my apartment. I doubt if they ever saw him again. The two boys and I muddled along. The depression was starting and times were getting worse every year. Russell More was the most dependable of the two boys.
My health broke down, due to an ulcer, which had never been diagnosed. The ulcer hemorrhaged and more dead than alive, I was taken by ambulance to Collingwood Hospital for an emergency operation. When I now recall what I came through I just wondered how I survived. Fortunately the operation was successful and for many years I had fairly good health. I had been on a restricted diet for years but after the operation I was able to eat anything.
Loren Raymer
I advertised for a shop foreman. Lorne Raymer, a newly married man was at the Stayner Sun office. The Sun was having financial difficulty and to cut overhead they were letting Raymer out. He came to me and I took him on at $25 a week. It was the best stroke of luck I ever had. Raymer was a marvel, capable and dependable. I had him until I sold the business in 1954. |
