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| Articles from the publication "Big Bay Remembers". They first appeared in the Wiarton Echo. The booklets and walking tour brochures are available at Keppel Croft Gardens and at the Big Bay Store, at a donation of $7.00 for the set.Part 1: Introduction –The Post Card, by Edith Galloway Part 2: Be Proud of Your Heritage, by Marjorie (Patterson) Fenwick Part 3: The Village of Big Bay, by Marjorie (Patterson) Fenwick The history of Big Bay as told by Mary Jane Horn Other memories
Reminiscences of Growing Up in Big Bay, by Dr. Eric J. Heathers MD AAFP 1845 Painting of Big Bay by Paul Kane We Walked BIG BAY REMEMBERS: 1858
-2008 by Edith Galloway
My
friend finds the most unusual presents, one of which was this post card …Great
times at BIG BAY Await
you . The reverse side was addressed to : Mr. Norman Spencer,
Port McNicol Ont SS Alberta
(the boat) postmarked Oxenden
complete with a green King George 1 cent stamp. In fine-looking penmanship was
this message: ” Hello Norm Hope
you are well as it leaves my self but I am looking for a letter from you so
write soon. In
no time I was into our wonderful local history book Beautiful Stoney Keppel looking
up So
the tiny village of August
3, 2008, the Sunday of civic holiday weekend has been designated as a walk
through memory lane ..Big Bay Sideroad (Division,
Caroline and Lymburner Streets) from the cemetery to the dock. A time to
remember names associated with properties and to remember people who walked this
land before concessions and lots were surveyed.
A time to reflect on nature, the magnificent
escarpment and our beautiful shoreline. BIG BAY REMEMBERS will be
appearing every other week with the memories you contribute.
BIG BAY REMEMBERS: 1858
-2008 * Memoirs
by Marjorie (Patterson) Fenwick Part 2: Be Proud of Your Heritage Marjorie
(Patterson) Fenwick (1908 – 1998) her words: I have tried
to recapture all the magic and the joys of my childhood summers in the little
country village of
In later chapters I will tell you about the lives of these dear people who lived
so many years ago. I will try to tell you how they lived, how their hearts
were woven with joys and sorrows but love and kindness always. These pioneer
people who came before me and of whom I am a part, heard music played, heard the
sound of children laughing at their play, made many friends, planted flowers,
danced and sang and reached out to touch the lives of their friends, families
and all those they loved. These dear people lived one day at a time, always
finding a task to do, snatching a moment here and there to sit down and rest.
They rose early every day to continue their labours; cows to milk, stock to
feed, wood to cut, fields to plough, and all the time planning ahead for their
children’s future, thus always giving them a reason for living. They
held their heads up high justly proud of their skills and their accomplishments
just like the people of today.
They are all gone now having taken with them the radiance of their lives but
leaving behind them lovely memories of happy times for me. I am sure they
are at peace and I thank these gentle people for handing down to me, and thus to
you, a heritage of which to be proud. Their homes were humble; no
bathrooms, no labour saving devices, no heat except from a big iron stove and
every block of wood they burned was cut by their own labours, a saw and an axe
being just about all they had to help them. They struggled and won. Their
spirit of endurance, their rugged independence, and their unending labours were
their contributions to this country of ours.
Be proud of your heritage. The Patterson/Fenwick family had its beginnings
when Catherine Schram (1808-1908) married James Patterson (1805 -1890).
Their son Garrett Patterson (1827-1899), was the first white man to spend any
time around Lion’s Head. ( BIG BAY REMEMBERS: 1858
-2008 * Memoirs
by Marjorie (Patterson) Fenwick Part 3: The Village of
Big Bay
“
The village itself really consists of one long road with houses on both sides.
These houses made the village a colorful place; some painted blue, some green
and some yellow, each one with a distinction all its own. Neat and tidy
with flower beds of pansies, nasturtiums and many roses all so beautiful to see.
At the back of these houses each family had a kitchen garden - vegetables of
every variety and not a weed dared raise its head. Many trees lined the sides of
the village street, maples, birch, elm and chestnut trees, and their wide
branches giving much needed shade on a hot summer day. I knew everyone by name
in these homes, the Perrys, the Haskells, the Boyds, the Robinsons, the Hornes,
the McEachens and many more.
Having walked the length of the village street we came to the village store (Big
Bay General Store). Beyond and down a little hill pass a few more houses
we came to a marvelous sight beautiful Big Bay, it’s clear blue water
stretching as far as the eye could see. The beach stretched out on either side
of the dock with stones washed white by the water and the sun.
The wharf, which was made entirely of wood, was built up for safety
and banked on both sides with huge rocks. On the left side of the dock there
were a few cottages just used in the summer months and the right, there were a
couple of farms.
Today (1970’s) there is a road all along that shore and it is a
beautiful drive indeed – Grandad’s
Stage
Now
I want to tell you how I arrived there for my summer holidays. Grandad drove the
stage, a big covered democrat with three rows of seats and lots of room for
parcels and mail bags. It took us four hours to make the journey (
About ten miles from our destination there was a very steep hill
( For these and all the other memories, reserve a copy of the publication "Big Bay Remembers" Reminiscences of Growing Up in Big BayEric J. Heathers MD AAFP I suppose the most lasting impression I have of growing up in Big Bay and environs was the sense of what a complete world it was. Although we must have appeared as very insignificant and parochial to the outsider, to me as a child it was as vast, complex and as full of interest and variety as the largest city. Our home and our farm had an amazing array of attractions from the barn, the animals, the fields and frog pond to fill our days; and although you never realize it when you are immersed in it, a most beautiful and striking landscape. It is hard to believe that in attending SS 12 one has experienced something now likely gone forever - the one room school. It was a microcosm of our little community with all the players of our larger world represented by their children. Never more than 20 students, it seemed to hold as much challenge, intrigue, relationship complexity and drama as was capable for my little brain to hold. Our teachers were indeed like our parents, with their small foibles and greater virtues, marshalling us through the school day. We were a variety of ages, educational levels and abilities huddled together; helped out those that were younger, standing in awe of the elder students - much like our siblings (who are frequently there as well). Even now I find glimpses of those days returning to my thoughts and triggering pleasant memories.
Some of these: The taste of the spring fed water from up the road as it poured from the pipe in the corner of the school lot - the smell of the mint that grew around it, the porcelain cooler that stood at the back of the school that held our days supply (no running water). Scaling the stone ledge around the school building (all of 2 feet off the ground) and how mature and grown up we felt when we made it all the way around without falling or chickening out. The woodshed (ah! the woodshed) where we congregated to rail at the latest educational demand and the injustice of it all or to talk about the future and our plans deciding who and what was 'cool' (and of course sneaking the occasional cigarette purloined from the local general store - what rogues we were!). Playing road hockey at recess and before school, pausing only to let the rare passing car by, engaged with as much passion and tension as the NHL playoffs. In the fall, the joy of jumping into a mountain of leaves collected from the maples around the schoolyard - and the soft warmth of those autumn days. Playing baseball with less than enough kids to make up a whole side. Playing all positions ad hoc, hoping to hit the ball into the weeds over the south school fence and establish our prowess. The Christmas concert and it's preparation with all the anticipation of Santa coming, as the stage was assembled, roles in the school plays and skits assigned, carols learned - all with the scent of pine emanating from the Christmas tree at the front of the school. Class work was soon forgotten with that month of preparation where lifelong holiday memories were forged. June days seated in a row seat with the window open, half heartedly attending to the blackboard but really listening to the buzz of insects, the rustling leaves outside and watching the dappled shadows on my desk, longing for the last days of school and freedom. Walking home after school - each gaggle of kids heading off, often reluctant to part, some to Big Bay, some up Graham's Hill and us up by the church through the groves of trees to our farm gate, nattering all the way. I wonder if our parents ever wondered what took us so long to get home. The Books of Knowledge in the library case by the teacher's desk - it served to hold the world in words and especially pictures. After work was completed the library was fair game and never out of bounds. Like the internet of today it was the window to places and things beyond the confines of our little domain and they were devoured from A to Z. "Book Time" - after lunch, the half hour where the teacher read to us. I especially remember Mrs. McPhatter going through all the "Ann series". I pretended not to care much - as they were for girls but I loved them and the images and emotions they conjured up of a lifestyle not much different to mine. I suppose everyone views their childhood as unique and in some way special. We never pictured our community, our school, our lifestyle as evanescent as it was but it passed as quickly as childhood. That solid stone edifice that had stood for well over 100 years and served its purpose so well, has moved to other uses. However the memories left in myself and others who attended there will last with us for our entire lives. It will always draw up the enduring recollections of childhood, bittersweet with the passage of time but with gratitude with the way it molded our unfolding lives. Thank you. Eric J. Heathers MD AAFP Memories of Growing Up in North KeppelJim Shier Introduction My name is Jim Shier and I was raised in the house that is closest to the old school at the present cemetery corner. That is the house just up from the school not the house that got built later on down the Cape Road. My dad had the farm that was located on lot 38 concession 25 and we had the farm there. Dad went to the public school there many years ago and so did I and the house I lived in was moved about three miles from where it stands from the old "Skinner" place. As a matter of fact the house was actually put on the lot front to back as they made a mistake when they moved it and were not able to turn it around when the house got there so it stands there as it landed with the front facing the barn and the back facing the road. My father's name was Clarence Shier and I know a bit about the cemetery because as a teenager I used to help with cutting the grass and stuff. The old United church that is now a residence was the church I was christened in and I was married there on November 18, 1961. As a point of interest I was the last person married in that church and shortly after that it closed I was offered the property but as things were tough for us in those years I was not able to borrow the money to buy it. I spent a lot of years in the North Keppel area and can tell you a lot of things that happened there. Summers at the Dock I always liked the Big Bay area and as a kid I remembered swimming down at the dock.
If the wind was off shore the water was cold even in hot days of summer but if the wind came off the bay toward the land it pushed the warm water to shore
and while the water was not as clear it was warm for swimming. The real fun was to park out on the end of the dock at night during a big storm and sometimes waves would come over the end of the dock and over the car. and it was even more fun if you happened to have a young lady
present with you to keep you company. In the late nineteen forties and early fifties, people from all over the North Keppel, Lake Charles area used to all show up at the dock on a sunny Sunday afternoon and swim in the bay and visit with each other, sometimes there were as many as fifteen or twenty cars there and around supper time most went home but some people built a fire on the beach and had kind of a picnic supper there. I can still smell the cedar that they used to start the fires and as you know there is a lot of cedar around North Keppel as well as hard wood but less pine or spruce. My dad's farm had some old cedar stumps in the swamp that measured more than two feet across but they had been cut many years before my dad owned the land and the stumps
were so old they were rotten. I lived in the Big Bay area from the age of two and went to school there and in the winter we had to carry in wood for the box stove in the school. My dad did not have electricity at his farm until 1952 and we used kerosene lamps in the house and a lantern in the barn. You speak of "John Horn"; perhaps that was his name but there was only one person by the name of Horn living in the house across from the store in the village. As I recall he lived alone in the house at the time and I don't remember if he was a widower or still single. I always heard him referred to as Jim Horn. I remember Mr. Horn gave me an old candle lantern that was, so he said, used by his dad and was well over a hundred years old. This lantern was stolen from me by a person I knew and "donated" to the museum in Owen Sound. I recognized it when I made a trip through there years ago but was unable to prove that I owned it and so there it sits and it burns me that I will never get it back. The Post Office and Bicycle Riding When I lived at the farm the main post office was run by Margaret Stott, and later on my grandmother (Annie Shier) bought the house that had been owned by the Stott family and used as the post office in the 1940s. During the second world war Bob Stott used to ride a bicycle to Owen Sound every day as he worked at Kennedy's foundry then. Bob Stott had only one eye and the other one was sewed shut (Not sure how he lost the eye). When the war was over so was the job and I ended up owning the bicycle he had as my dad bought it from him for me. I rode that bike many hundreds of miles ( I had a little counter on the front axle) and one winter rode it into Wiarton to attend band practice. (I still have the news paper clipping of that). That was a cold ride! I almost froze solid and my cornet had to be thawed out on a steam radiator before I could play it. That would be in 1953. Halloween Pranks When we were kids we used to have fun at Halloween; yes we did the usual trick or treat but we also had fun with a needle and black thread. All you had to do is thread the needle and tie a knot in the end of the thread and then push the needle down into the putty of a window so that the needle touched the glass then you reeled out the thread so you were at least ten feet away in the dark and rub a chunk of rosin on the thread. This would make a screeching sound against the glass and even looking out the window you could see nothing but it sure made a weird noise. The Church Shed At one time there was a quite large wood structure across the road from the United Church and we knew of it as the "church shed". As far as I know it was built primarily to shelter the horses in bad weather before people used cars. It was timber framed and had board siding and a shingled roof (never painted to my recollection). There were stalls in it for horses and storage for hay. By the time I was old enough to realize what was going on the shed had been cleared out and was used for the storage of a horse drawn snow plow that was on runners and was made of ash and oak wood. My uncle told me that when he and my dad attended school there at S.S. #12 there were a couple of students that came from way down the cape road and used to ride to school on horses and during school hours kept the horses at the church shed. And of course they had to feed and water the animals at noon and as the shed was quite a piece from the school they used to get a couple of the girls to help with this task and so what they did as well as feed the horses is open to conjecture. About the Church When I was a small boy there were concerts held at the church at night in the early 1940s and 50s and as there was no electricity in the church at the time they used to have
two big mantle naphtha gasoline lamps that hung on iron hooks from the church ceiling and I can remember that during the performance they had to be taken down and air pumped into them a couple Earl Cole's Snow Plough I read a book that was written about the history of North Keppel and I noticed one omission. During the war nobody drove their cars on the local gravel roads in the winter time because the snow got deep and drifted and there was no snow plowing done. There was no mention that after WWII the first snow plowing of the local roads was done by Earl Cole using his big Massey Harris 202 tractor with a home made plow and wooden cab. The tractor had enough power but was too slow to cover much ground in an hour I think top speed was in the order of eight to ten miles per hour maximum. Mr. Cole purchased a surplus Ford army truck that had been used to pull artillery guns around in war time and fitted it with a commercial "V" plow as well as a wing and with the four wheel drive truck powered by a flat head ford V8 truck engine, that machine could really make time on the roads. I have seen it move along at better than forty miles per hour. My dad and I used to go help Cecil once in a while at nights. The machine was all home made so the wing was raised and lowered by hand using an old steering box from a car as a hand operated winch. and the snow plow was raised and lowered using a hand hydraulic pump and if there were a lot of back roads to plow it took three people to operate the machine because there was no power steering and everything was done by muscle power. The driver of the snow plow was Cecil Cole as Earl was getting on in years by then. Cecil plowed many hundreds of miles of road from Kemble to Lake Charles including the roundabout and all through the Porter settlement. Cecil Cole was quite husky and very strong and he needed lots of strength to keep that old truck on the road with three tons of plow hanging over the front axle of the truck and no power assist. Later on the township of Keppel started using a commercially built road grader fitted with a plow and wing all operated by one man and this was used instead of the old snow plow But I have to say that the Earl Cole family is responsible for the very first snow plowing of roads in the Big Bay area.
I have a quiz for you people in the Big Bay area: How many of you know where these places and people are and where are they located?
For the answers to Jim Shier's quiz, please scroll down to the bottom of this page. Let’s
turn back the calendar 150 years to 1857.
We
are John Horn and Mary Jane Horn. John
was born in Dunfermline,
John went to
The historical artist
Paul Kane journeyed through the area in 1845 and this is a painting of the area.
The countryside and water looks wonderful. It
is labeled "Big
Two years ago, in 1855 after the Treaty was signed, the area was surveyed
by Wm. Scales who was a member of the original Rankin Survey Crew. The survey
chain that John is holding could be that chain. Property was measured in chains
and lengths. The Town of
Next year in 1858 we are moving to that area the Chippewa call
The area is near Time
moves on to 1864
John
and I finally have the property registered to our names - well partly - it says
"John Horn and wife". We are
selling half
The Village has been surveyed and Caroline has a street named after
her… Mary Jane just didn’t fit as a street name I guess. There are over 300 people living in
A school was built in 1862 with 29 pupils and Horace Lymburner was the
teacher – glad John didn’t take the job. In 1877 when the existing stone school was built there were 92 pupils.
The stone school was the only stone building in
The Government dock was built in 1865 and the Village was then a hub of
activity. The O’Connor was the
first vessel to call. Then there was
the Jane Miller in 1881. She called in at
Duncan McNaughton came as the first minister of the Presbyterian Church. Later there was a Methodist church too. They say 150 years later there is no open church but the Minister Rev.
Deb Murray lives in the old Boyd house. Often there are summer services on the
dock or at the
Oh the post office... it
was first opened in David Dewar’s house nearer to the water.
Mail came by boat at first and about 1890 mail arrived by stage. The driver would blow a trumpet as the stage approached the Village and
we would all head out to see if we got mail. At one time it was confusing to have
We had lots of fun with regattas, Dominion Day celebrations and of course
the biggest day, the 12th of July. There were logging
bees (whiskey came out) and barn raisings (no whiskey
as barn raisings were family events). The
stills were back in the escarpment. They say they have been replaced with grow
ops, for a type of smoke that has my name... Mary Janes!!
There were sad, sad times too. Our
son John Jr. who was our first to be born at
History lies in our
cemeteries. How my heart is uplifted
as I hear of the spirit of the Community of Big Bay as they focus on the
Cemetery as the theme for "Big Bay Remembers". Jim Shier provides these answers to his quiz:
3. Margaret Amos lived in a small house at the junction of the 24th concession and
Graham's Hill road and she lived alone in a small house and was considered to be a bit odd by some people. Regards From Jim Shier |
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Please email us your questions and comments |
Memories
of Growing Up in Big bay, by Jim Shier
