Memoirs



MEMOIRS

Ancestry and

Family History

Gathered,

Remembered

And Recorded by

John Spanner

1973

A LETTER TO THE JAYS

Dear Jays:

Ever since your Mother was born our Grandmother and I have been collecting and saving things that we thought might be of interest to her as she grew up and had a family to share with. We have also been gathering family history on both side of our family. My own father died when I was only four years old, and I have always regretted the fact that I know so very little about him.

For some years I have been planning to prepare as complete a record as possible of your Mother’s ancestors, so that you may have it when you are old enough to want it. I hope you will find as much pleasure in the possession of this story as I had in preparing it for you.

Affectionately,

Grandfather Spanner

(Popeye)

Lake Wales, Florida

February 27, 1957

I was born on March 20, 1891, on a farm in Chaffy Township, Muskoka, about four miles from Huntsville on the road out to our camp on Fox Lake. Amoung our Kodachrome slides is a picture of the field where the little frame house stood. Just beyond is a little lake.

My father was John William Spanner. We was born in the Parish of Grouville, Island of Jersey, one of the Channel Islands. This group of islands belongs to England, but they are quite near the coast of France. Both French and English are freely spoken there. His father was Richard Spanner, born in Portsmouth England, in 1814. His mother was French, Ann Picot, born in St. Saviour’s Parish, Jersey, April 17, 1814, (daughter of Jean Picot). They were married in Grouville Church on January 28, 1843. This is the family record as I secured it on a visit in 1959.

Abraham Issac born 23 December 1843

Ann Esther 17 October 1846 died 1887

John Wm. (my father) 27 October 1850 1894

Charles Richard 23 March 1853 1861

Louise Mary 1 May 1857

Marie Jane-Charoltte Mary twins 1855 1855

Ann Picot, wife of Richard, died 18 January, 1872 aged 57.

Richard Spanner died 7 October, 1884 Aged 70.

With the English father and a French mother my father learned both languages. As a young man he went first to New Zealand. Later he came to Canada. He was employed by the Whiteside Lumber Company in Huntsville at the time of his marriage. In fact it was as a log-scaler that he came to know my mother. He was measuring logs that Whitesides were buying from her. He discovered that they had been cutting some that were not included in the bargain. He corrected the wrong and shortly began to court her and seek her hand in marriage.

My mother, Martha Jane Clarke, was born in St. George’s, Norwich, England, on 25 October 1853. Her parents were:

Wm. J. Clarke, born 13 January 1831, Julian Place, Norwich

Margaret Fisher, born 20 June 1833, Norwich

They were married in 1850

His parents were Samuel Clarke and Ann Hyder, married in Charing, Kent, 20 April 1829. Her parents were Robert W. Fisher and Martha.

My grandfather, Wm. J. Clarke had three brothers – Thomas, George and James; and three sisters – Anne Elizabeth, Caroline and Eliza. He died 3 August 1917 at the age of 87. I remember him very clearly.

The family of Wm. J. Clarke:

Caroline Margaret, 17 August 1851, Norwich

Martha Jane (my mother) 25 October 1853, Norwich

Robert Samuel, 4 October 1859.

Mother’s mother died when she was about eight years old. In 1865 Wm. J. Clarke (her father) married again. He was a Schoolmaster. He taught in Birkenhead, Bridgenorth and Manchester. In 1870 they came to Canada. By his second wife Martha Merritt he had two daughters, May and Edna. Edna died soon after her marriage. May married Rev. Lawrence Sinclair, a pioneer Anglican priest. Both lived to a ripe old age. Their son, Wm. Sinclair, still lives on the original farm.

Grandfather took up land in Muskoka and became a farmer. He took the family as far as Gravenhurst (the end of the railway) and left them there while he went on to Huntsville to claim his land. He chose lot 9 on concession 5 in Chaffey. He also claimed lot 8 to the west of my mother. He cleared a bit of land, built a log shanty, and then returned for his family. They went by boat to Bracebridge, by stagecoach to the south side of Vernon Lake, then by dug-out canoe across the lake and up the Big East River a little way past the bridge where we cross it to the cabin he had built. Among our colour slides is a picture of the spot where they landed. Mother was seventeen the day they arrived. This was October 25, 1870. I have a large picture of her taken about a year before. In it she is wearing a white star ornament in her hair.

Mother was first married to Samuel C. Silverwood in June of 1875. They set up housekeeping in a little log cabin on her lot near the little lake mentioned earlier. There they lived happily until four children were born:

Margaret Mary Clarke, born 9 March 1876

Ruth Eleanor, 6 March 1878

Warris Samuel Fisher, 31 January 1880

William John, 25 November 1881

Her husband was the mail carrier from Hoodstown, at the lead of Lake Vernon, to Huntsville. In summer this was done by boat. On one of these trips 11 June 1883, he was carrying two passengers and some luggage as well as the mail. On the trip a storm developed, the boat capsized and he was drowned in trying to rescue his woman passenger. The other, a lumberman, swam to shore. His body was not found for many weeks. After this sad loss a fifth child, Lillian, was born on 22 September, 1883.

At the time of her husband’s death Mother had only three cents in money. She began to teach in the Ravenscliffe school to support her little family. Neighbors were kind. On one occasion, a neighbor, Mr. Robinson arrived at her door with two bags of flour on his back. He dropped one, saying ”maybe you could use this one?” Mother said, “The last of my flour is in the oven, but I have no money to pay for it.” He answered, “a little help is worth a deal of pity, keep it Widow Silverwood.” Mother said, “I was sure God would not let my children starve. Thank you.” She also did the caretaking at the school. Somehow she managed to teach, cook, sew, knit, and provide for their needs.

Two years later she built a small frame house. She and daughter Margaret, aged 11, split the cedar shingles by hand. The walls were sheeted with pine boards placed vertically and battened with slats over the cracks. Inside there was a living-room with a small bedroom and a work-pantry partitioned off at one end. An open stairway led to the upper floor to two bedrooms. Here the little family was living when John William Spanner came to scale logs and continued to come visit until they were married 23 June 1889.

Here in that little bedroom I, John Spanner was born on 20 March 1891. She told me of her great happiness at that time. Margaret, now 13 years old was mother’s main helper. Margaret has often spoken of her joy in caring for me.

May 30, 1893 another baby arrived, a brother for me. He was christened Herbert which was shortened to Bert. In 1894 shadows fell over the little home again. My father fell ill and after a long illness passed away on December 16, 1894. My only clear memory of him is of hearing him come home one night after an absence at his work. As he entered be bumped the ceiling with his log-scaling rule as a greeting.

Again mother had to face life alone with seven children to care for this time. The older ones were able to help. After some ears a neighbor who had lost his wife and two children in a tragic fire in Huntsville began to call and visit with us. In the spring of 1898 Spencer Thomas Quaife and mother were married and we moved into Huntsville to his home on Fairy Avenue, almost at the riverside where it passes into Fairy Lake. His family, our step-brothers and sisters were:

Charles, who later became a Methodist Minister’

Emily Victoria, who married Amos Mark.

Albert, who died as a result of a tragic accident in young manhood.

Florence, who married James P. Murray

Bert and I started school. We also made a start at swimming in the river. In our play hours we ranged the old fair ground where the Huntsville Memorial Hospital now stands; and the north-western shore of Fairy Lake. Those were happy days.

My first year of school life was not very happy. I was big for my grade, and did not seem to get off to a good start. A Miss Craig was my teacher and persecutor. I do remember the comfort and help my new sister Florence was to me. My second teacher, Miss Querrie, gave me a fresh start, and from then on learning became a joy. She was a very homely person, and shouted a lot, but was a sure-fire inspiration to her pupils. She visited with us many years later when she was an old lady. She is my happiest memory of school days.

For a few years on from 1896 times were pretty hard in Canada. Our home was no exception. Money was scarce. I remember one incident that illustrates this very vividly. Dad Quaife had finished the season’s work at the saw mill and had taken a job at the tannery. Saturday night came, no pay yet and Dad’s hands were stained from the new work. We were down to the last ten cents of cash on hand . . . . . Mother and Dad had a quiet conference as to whether to buy some pumice-stone to clean the hands for Sunday or save the dime for church-offerings. Cleanliness won out and I was dispatched with the precious dime. I went to the hardware store and asked for the pumice. The hardware man pulled out a drawer and found a piece about the size of a cake of soap. He said, “This is all I have, take it.” I went home deeply impressed that somehow our needs had been met – we would have clean hands and offering for the church.

After about two years Dad Quaife bought a half-acre of land with a frame house on it in the west end of town. Here we had room for a good garden after we got the stones out. We also kept a cow, a couple of pigs and some chickens. We added the house, built a small barn, pig pens and a chicken house, making quite a ranch of it. We were on the edge of town with two large pasture fields near by. We earned spending money by driving the neighbors’ cows to and from pasture night and morning. My memory is that we received fifty cents a month per cow. Our home chores included caring for our own animals, the garden, picking wild berries and cutting wood to keep the home fires burning. I got to know every inch and feature of the surrounding country.

My mother was a member of the Methodist Church. In earlier years dad had been a heavy drinker, then in the Salvation Army he was converted and completely freed from his drinking habits. While living in Chaffey he attended the Methodist Church, but after moving to town he felt drawn back to the Army. Mother continued her attendance at the Methodist Church for a time, but I remember a growing distress in her mind about the division over church membership. Though she was tempermentally not at all inclined toward the Army, she eventually decided that they should be together. She joined the Army and entered whole-heartedly into the work – including street meetings. This change took me to the Army. When I was about ten years old I publicly accepted the Christian way of life and became a Junior member. I learned to play a brass instrument and joined the Army band.

I also became Librarian of the little S.A. Sunday School Library. It was not large, nor were the books of great merit, but it did open for me the world of books to the great enrichment of my life. My brother-in-law, David White, extended my horizons with gift books that formed the beginnings of my own library. I also read the Bible from cover to cover more than once. There were great sections that had little meaning for me at this early age, but the parts I could understand grew upon me until my whole life was coloured by its teachings.

Dad Quaife was also an Orangeman. Later a junior lodge of Orange Young Britons was organized. Bert and I became charter members and gained valuable experience as officers. In my late teens I went to a Grand Lodge meeting at Carlton Place, Ontario. There I was elected Chaplain of Grand Lodge.

Locally we also organized a flute and drum band of about thirty pieces.

One of the big yearly events of our lives at this time was the 12th of July celebration held in one of the district towns. Our Young Briton Band was the best in this parade for several years. We had a Welshman named Jones to train us. Another big celebration was the Volunteer Fireman’s competition on the first Monday in August. This was another trip to the town where it was held. We went by train – no cars then. The competition was timed race with the horse-drawn hose wagon over a measured course. Men would drop off the fast-moving wagon, pulling the hose out – connect it to a hydrant, put a nozzle on and knock down a semaphore with the water. Then shut off the water, break a hose connection, put in a Y, add another length of hose and second nozzle, and knock down two more semaphores. This whole procedure would take about 70 seconds. Both celebrations were gala affairs in our quiet town life, and our only expeditions beyond our own country-side. As I grew older I participated in sleigh-ride trips to country places for concerts and box-socials. Those were jolly occasions.

Dad Quaife worked in the Huntsville Lumber Company mill-yard. My first summer job in the mill was salvaging wood from the carrier that took the waste material out to the burner. My pay was fifty cents a day, ten hours. The next summer I worked in the lath-mill where slabs and edgings were made into lath. My job was tying them into bundles of fifty. Our normal output was 18 or 20 thousand lath a day. I learned to do all the other jobs in the lath-mil; then graduated to the lumber-mill where I took the trimmings away from the edger.

There was no high-school in Huntsville at this time. I ran into a dead-end at the end of grade eight, was refused the opportunity to write the exams, and left school. A contributing factor was my mother’s health. She was too ill to carry on alone and I was elected to keep house for about a year under her direction from a couch or her bed. I was about twelve years old. I got quite an education in housework. Bert was chore-boy and did the outside chores.

My first winter job was at the Muskoka Wood Co. factory where we did all sorts of planning jobs and made hardwood flooring. This is the kind of flooring we have in the cabins at Loon Echo.

At sixteen I went to the Anglo-Canadian Leather Company to work as there was year-round work there. Up to this time I had taken my pay home and received a small allowance plus home and clothes. It was one of Dad’s rules that the boys of the family should do this until they were prepared to go on their own and be completely and permanently self-supporting. The girls were free to go and come and live free at home when they were there.

At this time I was earning $9.00 a week, and decided to go independent. It was agreed that I would pay $2.50 a week for my room and board at home. I worked in the loft where the sides of leather were dried ready for the finishing process. There were 25 rooms holding about 300 sides each. A side was half of a cowhide, split from head to tail. The hides came mostly from North and South America, with some small ones from China. The finished product was sole-leather. During my time there, there was a change-over from a slow 7-month process with the tanning liquor made from hemlock bark to a chemical process taking about a month (Oak tan).

During my time there I was offered a job leading to the engineering staff, but as it involved Sunday work I turned it down. After a year I decided to learn a trade. The choice in the town was between tailoring, barbering and printing. The way opened for printing, and I have always been glad that this was the door that opened. It led me to books, to evening classes, and on to a life-time of study and ever-widening horizons – eventually to teaching. The apprenticeship meant some high-financing. I started my apprenticeship at $1.50 a week with promises of increases every three months. I had to get up to the subsistence level of $2.50 a week before my savings ran out. I almost made it.

I was seventeen when I began my apprenticeship with Mr. George Hutchinson as my employer, Mr. Harmon E. Rice as Editor, and a German named Bill Gebhardt as master printer. This seems an appropriate time to recall some of the influences that shaped and formed my life.

My Father I knew only by hearsay. Mother, in brief moments of confidence revealed something of his character, his aspirations and plans for his family. My eldest sister, Margaret, has told me of her impressions in the short years he lived as her step-father. As I came to maturity I formed such an estimate of him that I am truly proud to be his son.

My step-father, Dad Quaife, was a man of meager education, but with wide experience in human relations. He was not an easy man to live with or satisfy. He had some rigid standards of life in general that made me aware of his worth. He made a valuable contribution to my up-bringing and character. His two sons set a pattern of life that provided me with fine examples.

My mother lived such a life of patient, sweet devotion to her God and her family that all of life was made beautiful by her very presence. She radiated love, and was deeply loved by all who knew her. Her face shone with the inward beauty of her spirit. As I grew older I came to understand the secret and source of her poise, charm and strength. It was her daily habit to rise each morning to have her precious hour of prayer and communication with her Heavenly Father. No matter how early the duties of the day called her – she still stepped up her hour of rising to make sure of this precious time of retreat. No words of mine could begin to tell how much she gave to me – of love, and faith, and understanding.

Outside the home – certain other individuals stand out in memory. Mrs. Thomas Forbes, with whom I lived one winter when my family went north, was another radiant Christian personality that warmed my first absence from home.

In my work, George Hutchinson taught me some valuable lessons in meticulous care for details and orderly habits. He was a sturdy old pioneer. I was the first boy he ever trusted to count the paper for the weekly edition of ”The Forester”. Bill Gebhardt was a competent workman who gave me my basic training in the fundamentals of my trade. To Mr. Rice I owe my first awakening to the possibilities for beauty and excellence in a piece of printing. He would spare no pains to achieve that extra glamour for the annual program of the Literary Society or some other special job. His idea of striving for the first-rate has ever been a goal before me, even though I often failed to reach it.

To Captain Snelgrove of the Salvation Army I owe a great debt for awakening in me a finer appreciation of good speech and inspiring me to a new level in my spiritual life. She was a refined and dedicated herald of the Gospel of Jesus Christ – and of His power to renew and enrich life. By this time I was bandmaster of the S. A. band.

Another man I remember with gratitude is Mr. Fred Murray, cornet player, bandmaster of the town band, leader of the Methodist Sunday School orchestra, and an enlarged orchestral group outside the church. He had two sons who played with him, and he adopted Bert and me as his musical sons. Many happy sessions we had together at his home with our music.

Towards the end of my teens I got involved in a difference of opinion with the District Officers of the Army. Both the Army Band and the Town Band were at a low ebb. I entered into an arrangement with Fred Murray to join forces in some events neither group could take care of separately. My superiors objected, and I persisted. This conflict eventually led to my resignation from the Army and to my transfer to the Methodist Church. I joined Fred Murray’s group and gained a new enjoyment from my music as I served in his two orchestral groups. Claude Wardell, Miss Pardoe and a Mr. and Mrs. Len Laing were in the larger group. We had many pleasant engagements together in my last year in the old home town.

These engagements included fall fairs in Huntsville and Burks Falls, Moonlight Excursions, and assisting at drama presentations. I had my own instrument by now – a Euphonium. One memorable experience was a moonlight cruise on the Magnetawan River, out of Burks Falls. On the return trip we ran on a sandbar and had to be taken off by boat to hike back to the Falls to catch our transportation home for work in the morning.

Last, but by no means least is the memory of my younger brother Bert. Scraps we had occasionally, but we lived, played, worked and slept together in the very closest bonds of brotherhood until we left home. We were together again in Toronto until he left for World War 1. His was a noble spirit and I treasure every link with his short and vital life. He left Canada on New Year’s Day, 1916, went to England to join the Royal Flying Corp. He trained in England, went to France in June, was a Flight Commander by fall and lost his life in December, 1916. I have many of his letters and mementoes of his service. In 1959 we visited his grave in Ervilliers, France. How costly the gift he gave! This visit was a deeply moving experience, more than forty years after his death. There are pictures of the cemetery and his grave in our collection of slides.

In the fall of 1911, at the age of 20, I completed my three years of apprenticeship at the Forester office. I was getting the princely salary of $6.50 a week. Mr. Hutchinson regretted that he could not pay me more and suggested that I could do better for myself elsewhere. He gave me a composing stick as a farewell gift and wished me Godspeed.

I went to Niagara Falls, Ontario to work on the Review at $10.00 a week. There I gained a bit of experience and confidence, but did not feel happy enough in my work to remain. In the few weeks I spent there I had a happy fellowship in the Lundy’s Land Methodist Church.

The next move was to Toronto. I went to live with my sister Ruth and her husband David White. They lived at 6 Maitland Place, in what is now practically down-town Toronto. I worked at the Armac Press as a compositor. There I met men of real skill at the trade, who shared their knowledge with me. I walked to work by a route that took me through two small parks. Frequently I met my foreman, Percy Rugg and we walked together. He was a gruff old character in the shop, but on these walks he talked of birds and nature – and so opened another door for me. I started at $10.00 a week, slowly climbing in experience, skill and salary.

During my first winter in the city I played Euphonium with a Sunday School Orchestra at Broadway Tabernacle at Spadina and College Streets. I visited around the churches a bit and finally joined Metropolitan – the old Cathedral of Methodism. Here I found great joy in the music. There was a fine organ and a choir of 50 or 60 voices with paid soloists who were top-notch musicians of their day. I also reported to the 48th Highlanders Band and took some instruction and attended some practices, but not finding there the atmosphere that I wanted, I gave up the instrumental work and sought to join the choir at Metropolitan. They would not take me without training or experience, so I took some vocal lessons for a few months, joined another volunteer sacred chorus, got some experience, returned to Metropolitan and was accepted. The love of choral music as experienced there has followed me all my life. Great enrichment has come to me from this source.

I also found a place in the Young People’s Society and Sunday School and a young men’s club. This young men’s group stayed on after Sunday School, arranged their own supper snack of milk and biscuits; sang and talked and fraternized until evening service time. We then took care of ushering in the gallery, making a special effort to get hold of young men who wandered in as strangers. Later we bought a house and established club living quarters. There were about 15 who lived in and we had good fellowship.

Early in the summer of 1913 at a young people’s picnic as Centre Island I saw a dainty little brunette with dark brown eyes. I asked one of the girls for an introduction, met her, and knew that something tremendous had hit me. I had had a couple of teenage romances in the old town. One had foundered on denominational differences. The other had seemed quite a case, but had faded with absence in the big city, and now flickered out in the presence of this new attraction. This brunette was Laura Marguerite Richards. Somehow I managed to see her home that night and many other nights after.

In the summer of 1914 my sweetheart visited by family in Huntsville, and there in the garden of my old home she accepted a ring and promised to share my life. She won the love of my family, particularly my mother. We had a joyous holiday going over the old familiar beauty spots of my boyhood. At Christmas time we went together to her home setting in Bruce County. Her brother Dick met us at Lucknow with a big sleigh and a fast-stepping team of horses. We had a moonlight drive to Kinlough where I was introduced to her family. We made the rounds of the other family homes in the neighborhood, and returned full of joy and plans for our wedding in the spring.

Easter Monday 5 April, 19195, was the great day. Laura’s sister Lizzie provided a beautiful wedding in her home -- the old stone house on the south line near Bervie. Mirrell Richards (now Sheane) a niece, played the wedding march on an old organ that is now in our cabin at Loon Echo – thanks to nephew Oscar Armstrong. My step-brother Charles Quaife, now a Methodist Minister performed the ceremony. His wife Edith took his services for the day to let him come. Agnes Thaine, a close friend of Laura’s was bridesmaid and Stuart Armstrong, groomsman. It was all that the love of a fine family could make it. We left by the noon train going directly to our new home at 301 Waverley Road, Toronto.

Now it is time to go back to the beginnings of the Richards family and trace that part of our story.

Your grandmother, Laura Marguerite Richards, was born on 7 April, 1889 the last of thirteen children, two of whom died in infancy. Her mother’s forebears came from Ireland. The names Andrew Emerson and Elizabeth Elliott are in the record, and appear to be the parents of Jane Emerson who was born in Goderich. The Richards family originated in Cambridgeshire, England. They moved to New York State and later came to Bruce County, Ontario. Her grandfather Robert Williams was born in December, 1802 and died 8 June 1888. Her grandmother Sarah was born in April, 1804 and died 28 March 1884. They are buried in Kincardine, Ontario. Her father William James was born 8 September 1834 and married Jane Emerson 17 April 1861. His parents were Robert Richards and Sarah Garner. Here is a list of their children, copied from Aunt Lizzie’s family Bible:

Name Born Death

William James 6 April 1862 30 April 1898

Elizabeth 28 July 1863

Alonzo 17 March 1866 15 April 1866

Robert 14 April 1867

Sarah Jane 14 March 1869

Samuel A. (infant)

Samuel A. 24 July 1873 1960

Richard 17 October 1875 31 July 1960

Fred 27 October 1887 26 October 1940

George 31 May 1881

Joseph 14 January 1884

Edith 14 October 1887 26 October 1940

Laura 7 April 1889 21 July 1962

Elizabeth or Lizzie as we knew her was married before Laura was born.

Her father, before his marriage, lived with a sister Louisa on the north boundary of Huron Township. He was a partner in a saw-mill at Bervie. Next he moved to the south line of Kinloss-Kincardine. Later the family moved to Kinlough, living in Boyle’s house, then the Johnston house, and finally in their own place – the house on the hill overlooking Kinlough and the creek valley where their saw mill was now located.

Here are some of the remembered influences of your grand-mother’s girlhood. Her father was a class-leader in the Methodist church, and she went with him to class and church. A loved Sunday School teacher was Mary Statters. Mrs. Young of Bervie was another potent influence in her formative years. Dick Lane, later a doctor in Toronto, was the best remembered school teacher in Kinlough.

On 30 April 1898 the oldest boy James was killed in a distressing saw-mill accident. The father never fully recovered from the shock. He died peacefully in his sleep a few weeks later, 9 July 1898. Her mother died two years later, 19 May 1900.

Rev. N. S. Burwash was their minister at this tragic time. He was a guest in the home when the father died and from his pen came these tributes.

Of James, the brother, he said; ”During fourteen hours he lingered in agonizing pain, the peace of God which passeth all understanding, kept his heart and mind through Jesus Christ. His consolation abounded in Christ. He had been converted to God in special services conducted by Evangelist Ruttle and others,, between five and six years earlier. He had developed into a church trustee, Sunday School teacher and also a very acceptable and useful local preacher. The Quarterly Official Board passed a resolution expressing high appreciation of his character and usefulness, and also of condolence with his sorrowing family and friends. The esteem in which he was held, and the sympathy for his sorrow striken relatives, were manifested at his interment and at his memorial service.”

Of the father’s death Mr. Burwash wrote: “The mortal remains of our departed brother, James Richards, were interred just ten weeks after those of his eldest son. He retired to rest on Saturday night, 9 July 1898, apparently as well as usual. About 7 a.m. on Sunday he was gone. No signs of distress were visible. No moaning or indication of pain had been heard. Apparently in him the petition had been fulfilled,

“Oh, that without a lingering groan,

I may the welcome word receive,

My body with my charge lay down

And cease at once to work and live.”

He was born in Cambridgeshire, England, 8 September 1834, came to the state of New York at the age of 19. A few years later he arrived in Ontario and settled in the county of Bruce. He was married to Jane Emmerson, his now bereaved and sorrowing widow, 17 April 18 62. They were both converted to God, and joined the Methodist Church about 36 years ago. He is missed from his chair in the home, his place in the class-meeting, his seat in the congregation and the Trustee Board is empty. His indefatigable industry his amiable disposition, his affectionate, kind courteous and winning bearing in the domestic circle add greatly to the pain of his sudden removal; but the evidences of daily piety manifested in his conversation, in the private and family worship, in the spirit of charity and love manifested to all; and cheerful, chastened trust in the promises and providences of God, and in the merits of his Son, afford grand consolation in the assurance that he has gone before to appear in the grand family re-union above. May none of his sorrowing loved ones be wanting there!”

Thus at eleven years of age your grandmother had lost both father and mother. Her sister Sadie kept the home going for a time. In 1901 Sadie (or Sarah) and Edith moved to Kincardine, and Laura went to live with Lizzie on the South Line. This was home to her as long as Lizzie was there. Dick lived on in the old home. We have a few Kodachrome slides, taken at Kinlough, showing the site of this old home and the view from it.

The old stone house on the South Line was a good home to your grandmother. Lizzie’s two sons, Stuart and Oscar were near her age and they went to school together. She went back to Dick in Kinlough for her last year of public school.

After graduation she went to Toronto to attend Shaw’s Business College at the beginning of 1906. A legacy from her brother’s estate financed this training. She was 17 years old when she took her first position in the office of Cutten & Foster. When changes closed that position she went to Eaton’s mail order office as a typist.

Early in 1908 her sister Sadie invited her to go west to a store job in Melfort, Saskatchewan. Life in the prairie town was colourful and varied – tennis, riding, skating, dancing, homestead visits and duck hunting were among the highlights. She also sang in the church choir. On one of her visits at the homestead she and her sister took a team of drivers to go for the milk one evening. On the return trip they got lost. After passing the same haystack three times they gave the horses a free rein and were soon home.

The Western visit lasted about four years, broken by a trip home for sister Edith’s wedding. The old stone house on the South Line was still home. In the fall of 1912 she returned there and after Christmas went back to Toronto to Eaton’s. Early in the summer of 1913 came our meeting and happy association in the life of old Metropolitan Methodist Church. One of the remembered interests there was the No.7 class which met at 9:45 on Sunday mornings. Here young and old shared in old fashioned class meetings under the leadership of Mr. Hanna.

From here our story blends and has already been introduced in my part of the tale. Your grandmother had plenty of admirers Bruce County and in the West, but somehow all old romances faded in the joy of our shared love.

WE ESTABLISH A HOME

Our first months in our new home on Waverly Road were gay with visits from many friends. Shortly the old group began to thin out as many of the boys left for war. Some never returned, those that did scattered to distant places. A few remain within friendship’s circle today. Among this number Walter and Grace Mottershead and Ross and Tena Stuart are nearest.

A couple of months after our marriage I was off work for a week’s holiday due to a slack period. We rented a canoe for a day along the Scarboro shore of Lake Ontario. During the day I was stricken with pain. Dr. Malcolm Cameron was called. He diagnosed appendicitis, and rushed me to St. Michael’s Hospital for an operation. Two weeks in hospital and another at home put a bad dent in our finances, but health returned and our spirits rose with it and on we went. We received many kindnesses from friends and nursing sisters helped greatly through this critical time.

By fall many of my friends were in the Armed Forces (World War 1) and I felt an urge to be of some service. I took a job on munitions work. I worked a few weeks in Toronto, then transferred to Hamilton where I got a job at Westinghouse. After getting established there we moved over to a rented house. There I offered for overseas enlistment but was rejected on physical grounds.

On New Year’s Day 1916 my brother Bert sailed for England to join the Royal Flying Corps. He was shot down during a reconnaissance flight on December 28, 1916. He was buried by the Germans at Ervillers, just south of Arras. He was two years younger than me, and we were very close in our love for each other

About mid-summer, 1916, I had to give up munitions work. The heat of Hamilton and the heavy work had proved too much. We held a family council and decided that I should return to printing. I got a job in New Liskeard, salary and commission, to run a weekly paper with an option of buying the business. After a month on the job we shipped our furniture north. On the week-end that the move took place I learned of some financial problems in the business that dimmed our hopes. We did not unpack – just boarded another month, then reluctantly gave up the dream and returned to Toronto, and to my old job at the Armac Press.

Housing was scarce, so we took a flat on Hogarth Avenue. This only lasted a month, then our landlady moved away and we were house hunting again. We finally went to live at my old Church club house on George Street until we could find a place. This was a mutual club of young men – now depleted by war service. Later we got a nice apartment on Bain Avenue in the Toronto Housing Development. The apartments were two story places grouped around lawns and open spaces. We went into the Aberdeens – a nice 5 room ground floor suite. We were very comfortable there. Bert’s fiance, Ray Hodges, came to live with us.

From here at the end of July, 1917, we took an early morning taxi ride to the Royal Victoria Hospital, where your Mother, Marguerite Jane Spanner was born. Life took on new colour and joy with her coming. We moved to a larger upstairs suite in another court.

Soon the urge to get into business returned and an opportunity to go back to my old friend, H. E. Rice in charge of “The Forester” in Huntsville turned the trick. He was going into politics and wanted me to share in the business. I went on ahead and lived with my sister Lillian Horton until I could find a home. During this separation we all had a very serious form of influenza. It was epidemic and many died. Mercifully we recovered.

We bought a little brick cottage and quarter acre of land on Lorne Street for $750.00. My ambition to get into a country newspaper was strong, but after a few months Paul Rice, H. E.’s son, came home and became my helper. He was a misfit and family rows were frequent. The prospect in the business faded. We had improved the little house and enjoyed the town life. Your mother was a charming little toddler, and we made many friends in the church and town. In this year and a half we renewed and deepened our fellowship with my sister Flo and her husband Jim and daughter Florence. Life was good and the work satisfying but the Rice family disharmony made the future very uncertain. In the spring of 1920 the dream died, and we decided to return to Toronto. My old firm welcomed me back as foreman of the composing room at the princely salary of $40.00 a week. We sold the cottage for $1500.00.

We bought a home at 15 Arundel Avenue, north of Danforth Avenue not far from Broadview. We had a good first year and a rich fellowship at Danforth Methodist Church. I taught in the Sunday School. In the spring of 1921 the printers went on strike. I felt compelled to go out, though the firm offered me a token partnership to remain. I offered to stay if they would agree to accept the settlement, whatever if might be. They refused. I went out, did picket duty for three months — and hated it. I took some show card writing lessons to fill time. There seemed no end in sight, so I accepted a job in a shoe store. My strike pay had been $21.00 a week, my new work paid $20.00 and my strike pay was cut in half. After two months I was offered a job as printing teacher at the Ontario School for the Deaf at Belleville. We decided to go, sold our house, packed our belongings in two trucks, and rode the cabs with the movers to our new home on the school grounds at Belleville.

November, 1921, and a new start. So began seven years of happy life and service in this new field. The deaf children were happy cheerful kids to work with. They were in residence, so we had intimate relationships with their whole life. After a year I got a fine new shop, planned to my own liking. Our home, a temporary arrangement came to be accepted as permanent. We became fully integrated into the life of the school. I helped organize Scouts, and had a hand in all the social and sport events of the pupils.

On April 14, 1923, a new baby girl came into our home (Berta Rae). She developed an infection in the hospital and was taken from us after only 7 weeks of life. Marguerite also had scarlet fever that spring and her mother had a serious illness – which with the loss of Berta Rae gave her a long hard pull to get back to health. Berta Rae is buried in Belleville Cemetery – a beautiful spot overlooking the Bay of Quinte.

Here we got our first car – an old Model T Ford open car. We were in the country and needed transportation. It wasn’t much of a car, but it served our needs.

In the spring of 1924 we gathered or contrived a tent, and other camping gear and set out for a leisurely camping trip to give us a change of scene and restore your grandmother’s health. We left at the beginning of holidays and spent the summer camping and visiting the family across Ontario. Our route was by Frankford, Cavan, Gamebridge, Orillia, Barrie, Collingwood, Meaford, Owen Sound, Kincardine, Goderich, Grand Bend, London, Toronto, and home to Belleville. We visited at Caran, in Bruce County and Toronto. We camped in all sorts of queer places. Our tent leaked, but by fall we were three confirmed gypsies, and all in good heath. It was a memorable summer.

Our community life apart from the School was centred in a little country school, Avondale. Here your mother went to school. Here also a Sunday School was held. The neighborhood was largely made up of retired farm folk on 2 or 3 acre holdings. A very pleasant social life went on during the winters. Our best friends were Mrs. Gilbert – a delightful old lady, cultured and kind. Next to her Miss DeMille – the last of her family and a good friend. We befriended her with our car and in simple acts of kindness. When she passed on I found I was an executor and some of her precious old furniture came to us. After several bequests the residue of her cash was willed to your mother. This money, about $750.00 was the beginning of your mother’s college education. Mr.& Mrs. Ketcheson were also good friends. Through the school nurse, Mabel Allison, we got to know her family – sisters and mother. They lived across the Bay of Quinte in Prince Edward County. We had many happy exchanges of visits with them. Your mother will remember the children, and visits to the Sand Banks and lakes over there.

We belonged to Bridge Street Church in Belleville. It was a fine old stone church with a good choir. Your grandmother was active in the women’s groups and I sang in the choir, and was an elder.

In the summer of 1925 I went to Summer School in Hamilton for five weeks. On August 10 we took off for another fine camping trip down the St. Lawrence and up the Ottawa, returning through the Kawartha Lakes. We particularly enjoyed the ships on the St. Lawrence and the tours of national sights in Ottawa – the Houses of Parliament, the Mint, the National gallery, Museum, and the Agricultural Farm – the beautiful Parkways along the river and the Rideau Canal. There is much interest in our National Capitol – a beautiful city.

The 1926 holiday was spent in visiting and camping among our families in Ontario.

In the spring of 1928 my good friend and teacher Milton Sorsalick of the Technical Teachers Training College advised me to apply for the job of Printing Teacher at the new Technical School in Toronto – “Western” – in the Runnymede district. We were reluctant to leave our Belleville life and my school work there but Toronto offered better schooling for your mother and also better salaries. It opened the way for University for your mother too. This tipped the scale. Off we went to fifteen weeks at the Training School in Hamilton to complete my qualifications for the new job. My salary at Belleville started at $1500.00 a year and had advanced to $1700.00. It was a close shave for a few years, but each year the battle eased as salary increased and the mortgage was reduced.

Three more summers were spent in Hamilton at Summer School. We camped at Stoney Creek on Lake Ontario. Your mother will have many happy memories of these summers. The Sheldricks, Parks and Sword families camped with us, and a merry time we had. Much private study was added to these summer sessions to make up for lack of early opportunities.

Our next venture in camping was an epic summer – 1932. I had built a home-made trailer with built-in equipment for the three of us. Abel Allison and her mother got fitted out with a tent and joined us. We drove 4,000 miles in ten weeks – Toronto south through New Brunswick along the Northumberland Strait to Northport in Nova Scotia. There we camped for two weeks on a beautiful bay with sea bathing. Then on to Tagamagooshe, Truro, Halifax – down the south shore to Liverpool, overland to Annapolis Royal, up the valley around Fundy to St. John, then up the St. John valley and back to the St. Lawrence and home. This was our first visit to the ocean and was a memorable summer.

Summer 1933 took us into Northern Ontario, North Bay, Cobalt, Haileybury, New Liskeard, Tamagami, Kirkland Lake and Swastika as well as some visiting around old Ontario — camping again, Bruce County and Muskoka.

In 1934 we had an exhilarating summer in New England. We went east – through the Adirondacks, down the Hudson New York, up the coast through Boston, into New Hampshire, a stay in the White Mountains, another in the Green Mountains in Vermont, back across the south side of Lake Ontario and home by way of Niagara.

Now let’s go back to our regular life in Toronto. Very soon after we settled on Windermere Avenue we joined Windermere United Church. I was an elder, taught in the Sunday School and sang in the choir. Your Grandmother Spanner also sang in the choir, served in the local Woman’s Association and the Women’s Missionary Society in various offices up to President in both. In the W.M.S. she also served in the West Presbyterial up to a full term in the chair. Your Mother also attended Sunday School and sang in the choir. She completed elementary school in Runnymede School, and took her high school course of five years in Humberside Collegiate, graduating with honours in June, 1935. She attended Victoria University in September, 1935, in Honour Moderns; after two years she changed to the General Course and graduated in 1939. It seems to me that the highlight of her years there was the Music club. She shared in the production of four Gilbert & Sullivan Operas – one each year.

Notable family friends in these Western years were the Moores, Harry, Olive and two daughters, Rose Marie and Katie. We picnicked in summer, spent Christmas and New Year’s turn about in each other’s homes. We enjoyed an intimate family friendship with them. Other close friends were the Laings, Roys and Smiths. We had many parties with them – particularly the Laings. Each year at school closing in December they had a big family dinner. Your Mother will remember these times very vividly.

Soon after going to Western I organized a school choir and continued to direct it for the full 28 years of my service there. We ran from 75 to 125 members and had a major part in the big school events each year. These were a Christmas Music Festival running three nights in early December; Commencement in the fall and Open House in March. In Open House we did four 45 minute shows – choir and orchestra sharing honours. We also sang at various churches and hospitals from time to time, and for the last 15 or 20 years we had an annual appearance at the Royal York Hotel for the Toronto Club of Printing House Craftsmen of which I was a member.

In the later years my duties also included the planning of morning assembly programs. Thus I had a rich variety and satisfaction in my work. The placement of my printing boys in industry also afforded me deep satisfaction.

In 1915 we started out on a search for a site for a summer home of a permanent character. After exploring a good part of south Muskoka, we found a lot on Fox Lake that pleased us. It consisted of 40 acres of land with about 3300 feet of frontage on the lake. We bought it, surveyed it, sold 15 lots and kept five acres on the point as well as 11 acres of bush. This spot you all know very well as Loon Echo.

In 1936 we opened a road in and camped there. In 1937 we built the Crow’s Nest with logs cut on the property. Next we laid the plans for Loon Echo. The next spring I gathered cuttings from a hedge at Sunnyside, Toronto, and built a scale model, on inch to a foot. The next building was the Wren House. A canoe has always been a major interest there. The years have passed. Rich memories of summers spent there crowd upon us. Holidays now meant life at Look Echo.

The year 1940 was our 25th wedding anniversary. We celebrated with a gay party of our friends, held in a Lawn Bowling Club House near our home.

In 1943 we had the joy of your mother’s wedding and the addition of your father to our family circle.

This seems a appropriate time to sketch in a brief review of your Father’s family and life

James Ruffie McMahon born 12 April, 1916, son of James Wallace born 1898 died 1958 and Grace Terry Ruffee (ie?) born 1891, died 1955. They were married 11 September 1915. James Wallace served with the Halifax Rifles in the first war and was wounded in action. He was in the Reserve Army between the wars and he and his son Jack were mustered in the summer of 1939 to help guard Halifax harbour which was an early priority of the Defense Department. He was an active member of the Halifax Rifles (which was converted to a tank regiment) all through the Second War. Although because of his age and rank (Major) he was never allowed to serve overseas.

A younger brother Jack was born 2 April 1920 and married to Phyllis Collings in 1942. As mentioned above, he served in the Halifax Rifles which was converted to a Tank Regiment after the outbreak of hostilities in 1939 and was wounded on two occasions.

Henry Ruffee, a brother of Grace married Jeanne Whiteman. They occupied a warm and lasting place in Jim’s life and affections as long as they lived. Their family, Jeanette, George and Meta continue to be dear to the family. Jim officiated at George’s and Meta’s wedding.

Jim gave of his best in World War !!. He was a graduate of King’s College, class of 1938, was ordained a Priest 1 June 1941 in the Anglican Church and served in Prince Edward Island until war broke out. He enlisted in the ranks and after training in Canada he received his commission as a Captain in the Army Service Corps. As soon as the minimum age for Chaplains was lowered he was transferred to the Chaplain’s Corps. He served all through the Italian campaign, then accompanied his regiment in the long trek across the Mediteranian, through Marsville and up through France to the Holland front, serving there until the end of the war. Returning to Canada in 1945 he was posted to Camp Borden. He and Marguerite established a home in Barrie.

On discharge he returned to his native Diocese and was appointed Rector of the parish of St. Martin’s, Nova Scotia. Due to his war service his health broke and he moved to a teaching job at King’s College School in Wolfville. When he was able to resume parish work he went to Alberton, Prince Edward Island. He served there from 1950 to 1957. His next parish was Annapolis Royal, Nova Scotia where he served with distinction until 1964 when his health failed again. Later he was appointed Registrar at King’s College, Halifax. The family moved to Halifax in 1964 and a year later bought the home at 2061 Armcrescent. His was disability caused his return to Camp Hill Hospital on several occasions and finally claimed his life on June 29, 1966.

Dear Jays,

As I review the years of your home life I would pay tribute to the faithfulness of your Father’s Parish Ministry – to the unfailing supportive ministry of your Mother – to the mindstretching, good-humoured conversation around the family table – and all of this carried on under the shadow of broken health resulting from your

Father’s war service. Never shall I forget the sheer bravery of your Mother’s bearing in the hours of great loss of her life-partner – and the courage with which she has maintained and enriched the family life since your Father’s death. Truly, you have a great heritage. My prayer is that your lives will continue to give expression to the same spirit.

A return to the thread of our story finds us spending the summer of 1943 with Eric and Eva Simpson on their farm north of Elmvale. Help was scarce and I was able to have a share in every kind of job about the farm. John Simpson was about 12 years old and Ann a bit younger, Carol younger still and Bill about 5 or 6. We had a great life – in our trailer. I still remember Eric’s skill at planning and directing the days work at breakfast each morning. Apples galore and lovely fresh garden stuff all the time. And in the house Eva’s unfailing good humour and warmth as Mother and home-maker. The bonds welded that summer are still strong and firm and will be to the end of life. From that farm and summer came the big kettle that serves as a wood-box on the hearth at Loon Echo.

The summer of 1944 saw the walls of Loon Echo rise and the place closed in. We had logs out at Ben Richards little mill to be sawn into lumber. In the Easter holiday we and Ed and Peg Smith lived in the Crow’s Nest. Ed and I cut 110 trees (balsam) and trimmed them up – all hand work, no chain saws. We had them drawn out to the parking lot and in May came up and peeled them. At the beginning of summer holidays we started on the log walls – foundation and fireplace to mantel height were already in. Ed was my main helper, but all the neighbors helped on jobs like shingling. As the summer wore on he still had not started to cut the lumber. I went to see Ben and he said “I have to get my hay in.” I asked him if I helped with the hay would he then cut the lumber? He agreed – so I helped with the haying, then helped run the mill to cut the lumber. Each day at noon and night I brought the half days cut of lumber home on the trailer. The neighbors and Peter McDougall, who with his wife, Minnie (Richards) was visiting us, would put the roof on as far as the day’s lumber would go. So we got it all closed in for the winter.

July, 1945 saw windows in, screens on, and floor laid, we moved in about the middle of July.

In succeeding years (dates not sure) we built the Jay’s main lodge and the small cabin. Later we added the larger cabin and the boat house. Each summer came to be a happy family re-union,

Other families who were renters and loved members of our family and community life were: Dr. and Mrs. George Pidgeon, the Bournes, Keevils, Walkers, Randalls, Martins, Higginsons and Huxtables.

The Sunday morning worship started out-of-doors near the Crow’s Nest in 1937 and has continued without interruption each year during July – August. After Loon Echo was completed and the organ installed we moved inside. Ed Smith has led the singing on the organ most of the time. Many have shared in the leadership of worship.

So season succeeds season with always new projects to challenge and add zest to life. I attribute my long life and good health to the annual re-creation of my energies and interests in this lovely, peaceful and well-loved spot.

In June, 1956, my years of teaching were over and my retirement due. We sold our home on Windermere Avenue, stored our furniture, and took off on a motor trip. We went east to Annapolis Royal for a two week stay with our beloved family, then to Halifax to begin a cost to coast jaunt that occupied the remainder of the summer. Our route was up the St. John River Valley to Edmunston, River de Loup, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, North Bay, Sudbury, Soo – through U.S.A. to Duluth, the north again to Kenora, Winnipeg, Regina, Saskatoon, Unity, North Battleford, Prince Albert, Melfort, Edmonton, Jasper, Banff, Calgary, Fort McLeod, the Crow’s Nest Pass through the Rockies a side trip up to Kimberley and Radium Hot Springs, Okanagan Valley, Kelowna, Naramata, then Hope, Princeton to the Coast to Vancouver, Victoria. We stopped off week-ends, longer stays were there were members of our families and special interest – never any deadlines to meet – a very leisurely journey

We found great joy in expanding our family relationships as we visited through the west with my older brothers’ families – Warris and Will, your Grandmother’s brothers George and Joe and their families. Some of them were on broad prairie farm where the roads run through endless wheat fields. Cameron White, Aunt Ruth’s youngest gave us a tour of the oilfields near Edmonton. The Provincial capitals of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta and British Columbia were quite a revelation of the growth of our land of Canada. We stayed on Vancouver Island until late October, seeing as much as we could of its beauty. The time spend in the Rocky Mountains will always remain a special delight.

On October 25 we bade family good-bye, took the ferry to Seattle and were on our way again – south to Portland, Oregon, then out to the coast, and a glorious trip south, through the great Redwood forests, San Francisco, Monterey Peninsula, Santa Barbara, and ever the mighty Pacific rolling in. We settled down south of Los Angeles in Laguna Beach. There we stayed two months, making friends in the little church and town and enjoying winter sunshine. Church friends – the Baileys invited us for Christmas and made our day glad.

In early January we were off again – south to the border of Mexico at San Diego, then eastward across the Southland – Arizona, Grand Canyon, New Mexico, New Orleans, around the Gulf of Mexico to Florida – a couple of weeks in Tampa with side trips hither and yon, then into the heart of the citrus fruit country at Lake Wales. Here we stayed two months with side trips in all directions. We linked up with First Methodist Church and found many friends in choir and Bible classes.

April and we were moving north through Florida, Georgia, the Carolina’s, Virginia – a week in Washington, another in New York – orchestral concerts, Opera at the Metropolitan – memorable – a performance of Parsifal. Northwards up the coast to St. John, N.B. and across to Annapolis again for a happy month with you – then home about the first of June. The Journey totaled 22,600 miles in eleven months, at a very moderate cost. Several hundred Kodachrome slides and a diary have provided us with many happy opportunities to relive these experiences.

Summer, 1957, and we were back at Loon Echo again with the purchase of our resent home in Richmond Hill under way. In the fall wee went to Windsor, Ontario, for a month’s supply teaching in the vocational school, then into our home and life in Richmond Hill. That fall the United Church in Richmond Hill broke sod for a new Christian Education wing.

Here I must return to 1952 when in company with Lew Perkin I attended my first Layman’s Weekend Conference at Sparrow Lake. Other conferences followed through the years at Elgin House and Keswick in Muskoka. At these gatherings there was a theme speaker who gave three addresses. Study or fellowship groups were formed in which 12 to 15 men would really come to grips with life. Another feature that filled spare hours was hymn singing by from 100 to 300 men. Here I experienced a new and deeper insight into the commitment to Christian life and service. Here I found an interest that shaped my retirement ideas and led to a new career.

In January, 1958, I began duty as Assistant to the Minister of this Church, the Rev. Charles G. Higginson. Retirement and free time became things of the past. Our lives have been enriched by the fellowship and love of many fine men and women here. When the new building was opened my work expanded. Christian Education was my special concern and the administration of the new building a part of my work.

At the end of March, 1959, we obtained three months leave of absence and flew to Britain for a long-planned visit. We spent three crowded weeks in London, sight-seeing, concerts, shows, opera, ballet, museums, galleries, churches, parks, and shops – a rich feast. Then an air hoop to Paris, more sight seeing in the city and at Versailles, a train journey north to Arras, a taxi out to Ervillers to visit my brother Bert’s grave. It is in a beautifully kept little cemetery on the edge of town. This was a moving experience, more than forty years after his death.

The next lap was by air to Jersey Island, where we searched out the old haunts of my father. Here I obtained some of the information in the early pages of this story. We visited his home church, and his mother’s – also the churchyard where his family lie. We also had a really good look around the island – a beautiful spot.

After three days centred in St. Helier the capital city of the island, we flew back to England, landing at London Airport. Here a small car was waiting for us – on rental for balance of our stay in Britain. In nine weeks we toured a great part of England, Wales and Scotland covering 5000 miles.

On that first day we drove out to Windsor Castle, west of London and back to Greenford where Marjorie Knott and her father lived. She had been in Canada as an exchange teacher and lived with my sister Ruth. She was most kind to us – took us to Richmond Hill, London, for a glimpse of the Thames –entertained us royally over night and helped me plan a route out of London for the morning.

We got on a circle road to the north, then away to St. Albans, Cambridge and to Norwich, Norfolk, -- my mother’s birthplace south then to cross the Thames at Graves and – east to Canterbury by the trail of Chaucer’s pilgrims. Over the downs to Dover then along the south to Hastings, Brighton, Plymouth, Stonehenge, Dartmoor – to Exmouth where we visited Clarke relatives; on to Pengance, Lalnd’s End, St. Ives, then up the Bristol Channel coast – Lyn, Lynmouth, Minehead, the ruins of Glastobury, to Oxford and Strarford. What a wealth of memories from a life time of reading all coming to life. We saw a play in the Shakespeare Theatre – on next day to Warwick Castle – a tour, then up the Wye pretty thoroughly – Barrhead, Snowdonia, Harlech, Caernarvon, eventually out to Bridgewater, through the Mersey tunnel and away north to the lake country. A week-end with Cousin Lily Clarke and her brother then on to Scotland.

This safari was a dream of many years come true at last. We searched out the historic scenes of old Britain; explored its scenic beauties from East Anglia to Land’s End, and then up the whole length of the Western hill country, clear to the top of the Isle of Skye and beyond. We entered her great cathedrals reverently; refreshed our memories on their storied past; explored the Tower of London, (Crown Jewels), the Houses of Parliament, the Castles, the famous places of theatre, ballet, and music – Covent Garden, Drury Lane, Old Vic; heard great orchestras and the organ in Festival Hall overlooking the Thames. We saw Shakespeare in Stratford-on-Avon and plays at Pitlochry in Scotland. We tramped the storied streets of old London, Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly Circus, the Strand, Berkeley Square, Fleet Street, up Ludgate Hill to beautiful St. Paul’s, Fleet Street (Newspaper Row) – a barge trip down the Thames to Westminster, along the Thames Embankment, through little streets lined with barrows of fruit and flowers, through the great parks – St. James, Green, Hyde, Kensington, Regent, Richmond and a whole day in Kew Gardens – reveling in the beauty of spring. We saw the changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace and walked the Mall. We rode the underground, and the two-decker busses, rubber-necking at all the strange sights and street and place names.

We had a perfect day aboard ship from Oban in Scotland, calling at Tobermory, Staffa where the Fingal’s caves charmed us as did Mendelssohn years ago; then on to Iona to visit the ruins and partly restored abbey – the centre of the first Christian Mission to Britain by Saint Columba. The ruins at Iona call to mind other famous abbeys whose sacred ruins are cherished by loving care. We visited Glastonbury, Kelso, Melrose and Dryburgh – each a gem in a beautiful setting with much of the original glory still visible in what remains.

We paddled a Canadian canoe up the Backs on the River Carn in Cambridge, and had a picnic supper in the canoe. We had a glorious sail on Loch Katrine one beautiful sunny morning, reveling in the beauty of the Trossachs. We saw Ben Lomond from three sides – also Ben Nevis the highest peak in Britain.

We crossed the Moors in Devon and poked into strange little coastal villages in Cornwall and marvelled that anyone could coax a living from the stony landscape. We gloried in the beauties of the Scottish Highlands, over hills, along the shores of sea and fresh water lochs, now close and intimate, now high above with great vistas of lovely moors, forested valleys and hillsides, and sunny skies overhead. We searched out places familiar from song and story.

In Edinburgh we explored the glories of Prince’s Street, High Street, St. Giles, Holyrood, Casstle Hill and the incomparable Scottish National War Memorial – et we were proud of our own on Parliament Hill in Ottawa. From the rugged stronghold -- Stirling Castle – we looked out in wonder at the beautiful plains stretching away to the horizon in every direction -- saw the Wallace Memorial and the statue of Robert the Bruce. In Glasgow the most memorable bit was a boat trip down from the city to the firth of Clyde through endless shipyards. In the English Lake Country we found cousins in the Clarke connection and in their company drove up one valley and down the next, until we had feasted our eyes on almost every ‘mere’ and ‘water’ (lakes) in that lovely land.

In Wales we followed the lovely Wye Valley in its winding way right up to the River’s source – then out on the top of the world, along a narrow road through sheep country until we picked up the beginnings of another stream and followed it down through lush valleys to the sea at Aberystwyth – then up the coast of Barmouth, through quaint towns and lovely valleys and over the pass to Snowdon, Harlech, Carnarvon, Conway , Colwyn Bay and out to Chester.

Our memories would not be complete without some mention of the interesting people we met in our travels, and in the many homes where we stayed overnight or for a few days. The old homes themselves held a varied charm – but the warmth of welcome to strangers from Canada will always live in our hearts.

At last a glorious sunset over Solway Firth at Silloth, a farewell to dear, kind cousins, a leisurely last run through the lake country and down to Liverpool,, a light wave of the hand to our faithful little car and we were off to our ship – the Sylvania for a luxurious, restful week at sea and then the misty skyline of the Laurentians as we steamed up the mighty St. Lawrence to Montreal and away home.

After a brief stop in Richmond Hill we were off to Loon Echo for a couple of weeks – then away to Nova Scotia for a memorable visit with our beloved family. We were back at Loon Echo for the end of holidays, returning to duty again at the beginning of September.

Christmas, 1960, was the next break from work and regular routine. We went by train to St. John and boat to Digby where we found you waiting for us. Another delightful Christmas visit – the first in quite a number of years. On each of these recurring visits we marvel at the growth and change in our beloved “Jays” and the unfolding maturity of their parents. Truly we have been richly blessed.

And so we come to the beginning of 1962. We are in our seventies, in good health, well-housed and fed, lacking nothing, and having much to share. Four years of my new work are behind me and life grows ever more interesting and rewarding in the love and fellowship we share with family, friends and our fellow men. New vistas open before us and beckon us on. Each morning we thank our heavenly Father for a fresh new day, for tasks to do, and strength and help for the doing. We know not what the future holds, but we do know we are in our Father’s care.

As spring opened up we revived our life at Loon echo on the May holiday week-end; May 31 saw us off on a visit east, first the family connection around Cavan and Peterboro; then along the beautiful St. Lawrence, a visit at Upper Canada Village, Cornwall. There we crossed the river and through New York to Rouse’s Point, St. Albans, St. Johnsbury and so across Vermont. The mountains, valleys and streams a continuous delight in the glory of spring. A little sight-seeing off course in New Hampshire White Mountains. The week-end in Gorham, N.H. renewed our acquaintance with Dolly Copp Camp and the Mountains – up Mount Washington, across Maine to Bar Harbour where we explored the Park and got our boat to Yarmouth. Then a quick run up the Fundy shore and we were back with you all at Annapolis Royal. Our stay there included a memorable trip round the Cabot Trail with your Mother and John with us.

June 25, a grand visit came to an end and we were off by ferry to St. John and up the St. John River Valley, and along the St. Lawrence homeward bound. Reached home in Richmond Hill June 28.

After a short stay at home and attending two weddings on the 30th, we headed back to Loon Echo, arriving at night, June 30.

As we settled into the summer life we shared a sense of fulfillment that in some measure seemed to mark a milestone in our lives. Here is an excerpt from my diary for July 21.

“A day of peace and quiet joy with my beloved. She asked me to take the whole devotion at breakfast by the fire. I gathered us up in the Everlasting Arms. At noon we cooked a fine steak. Afterwards I went for an hour to help at Aitkens, the rest of the day we spent together. The kids came in for choir rehearsal at 7, Mom sat by the window knitting as we practiced. As we ended “This is My Father’s World”’ she slumped in her chair and never spoke a word again. In ten minutes she was gone – a massive cerebral hemorrhage.

Back to the diary:

“Thank you Father for the close understanding of this day and the answer to my prayer that I might be spared to care for her to the end of the day. This place and the precious home of our old age at 212 Mill Street will be forever warm with the light of her love. Good-bye, Sweet Love! Good-bye! See you in the morning.

Charlie Higginson returned from holidays to take the service on Tuesday, 24 July. Rev. J. R. Patterson began the service, Rev. Russell O’Brien followed with words of remembrance, eulogy and comfort. Re. Charles Higginson gave a heart-felt appraisal of the quality and character of your beloved Grandmother. A beautiful service and many floral tributes. Interment was in Park Lawn Cemetery, in West Toronto.

Your Mother and Father flew up for the funeral and were a great strength to me. The Marins, Bains and all the Fox Lake friends rallied to my side in a wonderful way. Your Mother stayed for a week and saw me back into the life at Loon Echo.

A report from the Richmond Hill Liberal, 26 July 1962: “MRS. JOHN SPANNER, MILL ST., DIES SUDDENLY – FAITHFUL CHURCH WORKER …” Loved by all who came within the orbit of her life, beloved by all, for her winsome capacity for friendship and outreach to other lives’ was expressed in regard to Laura Marguerite Richards, late wife of Mr. John Spanner, Mill Street, who was suddenly called to her great reward on July 21, R Loon Echo, Fox Lake, Huntsville.

Daughter of Mr. and Mrs. James A. Richards (Jane Emmerson), Mrs. Spanner was born in Bruce Country in 1889, youngest of a family of eleven, marrying Mr. Spanner in 1915, and living most of her married life in Toronto, with intervals of residence in Huntsville and Belleville.

In Toronto, they lived for twenty eight years at 587 Windermere Avenue, and as a member of Windermere United Church, Mrs. Spanner sang in the church choir. She served as president of the Women’s Association, Women’s Missionary Society and for many years in West Presbyterial, including a term as president, during which time and through these societies many rich friends were made.

Since the fall of 1957, Mrs. Spanner resided with her husband at 212 Mill Street, and was regarded as a loving wife, mother and grandmother, a gracious hostess, a strength to her husband in all the ventures of life’s work, travel and service.

Mrs. Spanner is survived by her husband, Mr. John Spanner, one daughter Marguerite, (Mrs. J. R. McMahon, whose husband is Rev. James R. McMahon, Rector of St. Luke’s Anglican Church, Annapolis Royal, Nova Scotia), grandchildren Judy, James, Jacqueline, Julia and John, also by one brother, Mr. Joseph Richards, Victoria, B. C.

Resting at the Wright and Taylor Chapel of the Pipher Funeral Home until Tuesday when services were conducted by Russell C. O’Brien of Windermere Avenue United Church. Mrs. Spanner was laid to rest in Park Lawn Cemetery. The pall-bearers were: Messrs. Jack Armstrong, Norval Richards, Ralph Tyler, Bruce White, Murray White and Harold Bray.”

After Laura’s death the Fox Lakers presented a beautiful Communion Service for use in our Chapel at Richmond Hill. I also put in a Memorial window for her in the sanctuary. There was a 3-panel window in the west gallery facing Yonge Street. The centre panel was in but the side panels were plain glass. I added the south panel and Minnie Walker put in the north panel in memory of her sister Mabel – completing this beautiful memorial. These girls Minnie and Mabel had been close and dear friends of ours from our arrival in Richmond Hill.

I cannot close this part of my story without a tribute to Charlie and Meriel Higginson. My work under him was a real joy. Never once did he rebuke me through I earned some. Always he was courteous and kind – a man of deep understanding and high integrity and a scholar. Their friendship and love was a priceless possession to me in my lonely years. They remain two of my dearest friends.

Betty and Lew Perkins, life-time friends, have also been a great comfort to me in the years I have been alone.

POSTLUDE – After a lapse of Eleven Years

So in the late summer of 1962 I wrote Finis to my story. But the summer of 1973 find me still I good health and with a wealth of new memories that I feel impelled to record.

During the past year I have read three or four life stories of friends – most notable one by a Richmond Hill friend, Paul Angle. His story sets me to the task of recalling and recording these late years beyond my three score and ten.

The first two years were lonely ones; but I was sustained by family work and good friends. In the spring of 1964 I drove to Nova Scotia for a visit and consultation with my family. In June I was sent by York Presbytery as a delegate to the United Church General council in St. John’s, Newfoundland. This gave me an opportunity to see something of Canada’s newest province – the only one I had not visited.

Early in my work in Richmond Hill we had found good friends in Marguerite and Donald Bain, near neighbors on Mill Street and active members of the Richmond Hill congregation. This friendship had ripened with the years. They had visited at Loon Echo and proved stalwart friends when I lost my life partner. Through them we had come to know Marguerite’s mother and father, Norman and Grace Glass. In the meantime Norman had died and Grace was alone. She came to Loon Echo with Marguerite and Don for a visit. While there I asked her to share my life and she consented, so on 3 October 1964 we were married in the Chapel at Richmond Hill United. Only our immediate families were present. We had a quiet and intimate dinner afterward and then went to Loon Echo for a few days as a honeymoon.

Here are some details of Grace’s family: she was born in Aurora and was married to Norman John Glass and established a home in Richmond Hill. On 23 May, 1915 a daughter was born to them – Marguerite Grace Glass. She received her schooling in Richmond Hill and Toronto. On 29 June 1940 she married Donald Bain. Donald was born in Skibo, Scotland, 21 February, 1903. His father was Donald Bain and his mother Jane MacKay.

Marguerite and Donald were married in St. Mary’s Anglican Church, Richmond Hill and established their home in Toronto. On Easter Sunday, 13 April 1941 they were blessed with the birth of twins – Michael John and Barbara Jane.

From here on I shall refer to Marguerite as Maggie to avoid confusion with my first Marguerite.

In June, 1965, a new Associate Minister was added to our staff. This led to controversy and only lasted a year. So in June 1966 I resigned and decided that it was wise for us to disappear for a time. Before we left the Congregation presented us with a beautiful Canadian Motor Rug and established the John Spanner Fund to be used to send young people to conferences at Five Oaks, or other conference centres. The presentation was made at the Manse through the gracious sponsorship of the Higginsons.

In September therefore Grace and I took off on another North American Safari. We did a circle trip similar to the 1956 – 7 trip, but in reverse. We headed East, St. Lawrence, Upper Canada Village, Ottawa, the Gatineau north then down to Montreal, where we visited Michael and Jill. Michael and Barbara were their twins. On around the Gaspe – Prince Edward Island, Cape Breton and so to Halifax. Marguerite was teaching so we stayed a long weekend – then a trip down the valley and back for another weekend.

From there we toured Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont to Springfield, Mass. where we had a marvelous long weekend with Jeannie and Jim Snelgrove and family, a niece of Grace’s. On to Cape Cod and Plymouth then New York for a few days with the Ryders – Grace’s niece and her husband. We saw an opera and a Radio City show and a lot of the city.

On to Washington for a week of sight-seeing then out to Williamsburg and down to the coast to Florida. We stayed in Kale Wales a couple of weeks doing Cypress Gardens, Bok Tower and the country in general, including a visit to Stuart to see Betty Jane Stott a nice of Don’s. On to Coral Gables for a happy visit with Barbara and Earl and family. Then we took a small apartment for over Christmas which was gladdened by a visit from Maggie and Don. About mid-January we headed west – New Orleans and on to Arizona. Here we detoured north for Grand Canyon, Zion and Bryce Canyon, and up to Salt Lake City, Utah.

At Salt Lake City we stayed ten days haunting Temple Square. We enjoyed two Morman Choir broadcasts, rehearsals, and organ recital every day at noon and a concert by the Utah Symphony at the Tabernacle. We formed a very good opinion of the Mormons despite some queer doctrine.

Heading back south we saw Bolder Dam, Las Vegas and so out to Laguna Beach once more. Virginia Bailey, my old friend, found us an apartment. Virginia took us in to a Lawrence Welk Show in Los Angeles and showed us around the city. We stayed until early spring then worked our way up the coast with a week in San Francisco – a beautiful city.

We ferried from Anacortes up to Victoria – had three wonderful weeks of sight-seeing there then up island to the ferry to Powell River and down the sunshine coast to Vancouver. A week in Vancouver only 3 minutes walk from English Bay and Stanley Park.

From there we headed up the Fraser Canyon on the Trans Canada Highway. Glorious scenery through the mountains – Kamloops, Salmon Arm, a detour down the Okanagan Country then back up and over the Selkirks to Golden and out to Banff. We had a glorious week there. Lakes were still frozen and some roads closed so we headed south through the Kootenay Country and down to Waterton Lakes Park. A beautiful stay there then out by Crow’s Nest and north to Calgary and the Badlands – then north to Camrose to see my brother Warris – alone now.

We planned to go into the mountains again and do the Jasper and Banff Parks but Grace was ill and we had to find a doctor in Camrose. After the consultation we headed for home via Loon Echo.

Returning to life in Richmond Hill, my old duties gone, I began to find a new interest in visiting old friends, shut-ins and lonely folk. I served a spell as Clerk of Session, then a re-structuring of the Board put me in as Chairman of the Membership Committee and as such a member of the

Executive Committee’

After two years I resigned from the Board and all official duties and devoted my time to the visiting. At this time the Congressional Board and the congregation honoured me by naming the Chapel in the Christian Education Building, “The John Spanner Chapel.” A bronze name plate was presented at a morning service and now adorns the wall near the Chapel door.

Early in 1971 Maggie proposed a celebration for my 80th birthday on March 20. She planned the event to be held in our home at 212 Mill Street. She made the plans known at the church and Betty Perkin spread the news amoung my old friends. On the evening of March 19 after receiving a couple of early callers who could not come the nest day, Grace suffered a stroke and we had to put her in hospital. There was no way we could call off the party so in the subdued and saddened aftermath of Grace’s seizure we had to carry on. Marguerite came up from Halifax and about 160 friends and relatives came to express the warmth of their love and concern.

We visited Grace in hospital that day and until the 31 of March when she slipped quietly away. The impairment of her speech and the paralysis of her left side made life very difficult for her, so her passing was a blessed release from life that could never be whole again.

For almost seven years we shared life and brought each other comfort and cheer. Now I must go on alone again – but I have gained a new daughter and son-in-law and two more grand-children and their spouses and six children as my great-grandchildren. And they have enriched my life more than I can tell by their love and kindness.

Since that date I have returned to the church choir and for the season 1972-73 I joined the Ecumenical Choir in the Hill. There are about 85 voices and we have an excellent leader. We sang two concerts at Christmas time and four productions of Haydn’s Creation in May of this year.

In 1971 we put in full bathrooms at Loon Echo and the Jays. In 1972 Jim and I with some assists, notably from Eric and Eva Simpson, built a new log sleeping cabin on top of the Hill at Loon Echo.

In 1973 Don has retired and they have had a larger share in the life at Fox Lake. We have transferred the name ‘Jays’ and the name plates of the new cabin. The Bains have re-christened the old Jays as “Lochanwood” meaning ‘little lake in the woods.” Barbara and the children came from Florida for her annual visit. She painted the new name sign.

I have enjoyed Christmas visits to Halifax for the family reunion and this year to Florida to visit Barbara and family. Marguerite came twice last summer and twice again this year. These and other family visits have been a great joy to me. In 1972 I also had the joy of welcoming the Bray Reunion – 77 strong at Loon Echo.

On September eighth we had the joy of family reunion at Loon Echo. The occasion was the marriage of Jim to Carol Tuck. Carol’s parents, Tom and Ena Tuck, and her sister Joan were our guests for two weeks. The marriage ceremony was performed by Ven. Archdeacon Sutherland of Huntsville, in the beautiful little stone church, Christ Church, Ilfracombe. The reception was a gala affair at Loon Echo with about sixty guests sharing in the festivities. On the eve of the wedding Marguerite entertained a family party at dinner at Grandview Inn on Fairy Lake.

The end of the season saw the beginning of a project for 1974 – another bedroom to be added to the east of Loon Echo. So hopefully the end is not yet, but this seems a good time to produce this little story.

END

APPENDIX ONE – THE MCMAHON FAMILY

Judith Barbara Jane (Judy) was born 21 July 1943 in Kingston, Ontario. She got her schooling in the Maritimes and graduated from Dalhousie University, Halifax, with a . degree. She served in the Federal Justice Department, Ottawa, for a time then joined the editorial staff of The Financial Times in Montreal. The year 1965-66 was spent in London attending the London School of Economics. She was married 4 May 1970 to Anthony Stirling Maxwell. She is now on the staff of the C. D. Howe Research Institute.

Foot note added by Ruth Eva Simpson:

To Judith Barbara Jane & Anthony Sterling Maxwell:

David James Sterling, born June 9, 1979 In Montreal, Quebec

Jane, born 1982

James Wallace was born in Barrie 28 April 1946. He received his elementary and secondary education in Alberton and Annapolis Royal. He graduated from Dalhousie with a B. Com. In 1968. He went to Toronto to join the Federal Service in the Department of Insurance. After three years he moved to the staff of Standard Trust Company where he now serves as Mortgage Management Officer. On 8 September 1973 he was married to Carol Louise Tuck at Ilfracombe Anglican Church with the reception at Loon Echo Lodge.

Foot note added by Ruth Eva Simpson:

To James Wallace McMahon & Carol Louise Tuck:

Laura Katherine Louise McMahon, born 14 December 1978

Jennifer Nicole McMahon, born April 21, 1982

Jacqueline Marguerite Ruth (Jackie) was born in Martin’s Point, Nova Scotia, 19 February, 1948. She attended school in Alberton and Annapolis Royal, and graduated from King’s, Halifax with a B. Sc. Degree in 1969; another year gave her her B. E. On 2 May 1969 she was married to Arthur Ian Austin of Halifax, and they established a home there. On 10 January 1973 they were blessed with a baby daughter Margaret Andrea.

Julia Martha Edith was born 12 July, 1950. She attended school in Annapolis Royal and Halifax, and entered Dalhousie in 1970. She left university after a year and a half and is working on several programs dedicated to the advancement of the Third World.

John Matthew Spanner McMahon was born in Alberton on 21 September, 1954. He graduated from Queen Elizabeth High School in 1972. The year 1972-3 he spent on a federal exchange scheme that took him clear across Canada on work projects and then to Yugoslavia for the last lap. He ended up on a safari across Europe with a Maritime buddy, worked on a farm in Calvados Province, France, for a month to earn his fare home. In September 1973 he enrolled at the S. S. College of Art & Design in Enviromental Design.

Foot note – added by Ruth Eva Simpson:

Married: March 17, 1980 in Lunenburgh, Nova Scotia to M. Colleen Harvie.)

APPENDIX TWO – THE BAIN FAMILY

Marguerite and Donald were married in Richmond Hill on 29 June 1940. They lived for a time in Toronto. Michael John and Barbara Jane were born 13 April 1941. In 1954 they moved to Richmond Hill. Michael and Barbara went to school there. After graduation Michael took a tour of Europe, became enamoured with the travel business and bought an agency in Montreal. He married Mary Frances (Jill) Leitch on 11 October1965 and they established their home in Montreal. In 1968 he opened an agency in Toronto – “Inter-City Travel”. Later he sold the Montreal office and concentrated on building the Toronto business. They have three sons; Danny, Jorden and Adam.

Barbara entered Wellesley Hospital after High School and graduated from there as an R. N. in 1963. After a period of nursing and a tour of Europe she enrolled as an Air Hostess with Pan-Am., took her training in New York and was posted to Miami. After a tour of duty she met and married F. Earl Becker, a veterinary surgeon. They were married in Richmond Hill United Church on 20 November 1965.

They have three children: Hilary, Alyson and Andrew.

APPENDIX THREE – Music a Major Interest

This life story has recounted some of my musical activities. Beginning in my teen years with band and orchestral experiences and moving into the choral field in my early twenties – music has played a major and significant part in my life. I have served in church choirs: Metropolitan, Bellefair and Windermere in Toronto; Bridgestreet in Belleville and finally Richmond Hill United. For twenty-seven years I trained and led the school choir in Western Technical-Commercial school in Toronto. During those years I sang one season in Toronto Conservatory choir under Sir Ernest McMillan; five years in Toronto Men’s Teacher’s choir under Eldon Brethour. At 82 I joined the Ecumenical Choir in Richmond Hill under Edward Luka. I have returned to this choir of 85 voices for the 1973-74 season.

LOON ECHO PRIVATE PRESS

Shortly after I retired from Western the school installed new presses. My old press of twenty-eight years use became available. I acquired it, bought type

faces and other accessory equipment and set up a private press at 212 Mill Street – with the press in the garage. This provided me with the tools for personal printing production and also served some of the church’s needs. It was not possible to run the press in winter weather so in the late sixties the church made a small room available and we moved in. Now my hobby press is available year-around for church and personal work.

CERTIFIED CHURCHMAN – A LAY ORDER

After my appointment as Assistant to the Minister, Rev. Charles G.Higginson, in Richmond Hill United Church, the laying on of hands. General Council instituted a lay order rather awkwardly named “Certified Churchman.” I was the first layman in Toronto Conference to receive this designation, and to be so consecrated by the laying on of hands. This took place in Woodgreen United Church at Conference time, at the time of Ordination Service for the new Clergy of that year.

APPENDIX FOUR – A PERSONAL CREED

(formulated during my years of association with Charlie Higginson in Richmond Hill).

I BELIEVE:

That life has a purpose: growth, maturity, right relations with God and man, service.

That life’s goals are: truth, beauty, love, purity.

That selfishness or self-centeredness is the greatest sin—a barrier to true purposes and goals.

That there is a way to life; through Christ to God. The first step is an awakening, an awareness, a turning from self to the highest, a rebirth.

That this beginning comes in varied ways to various individuals. It may come suddenly or gradually. It may come through the challenge of truth, beauty, love, but ultimately it is a response to the love of Christ.

That after this beginning or rebirth, life is a long process of growth, development, fresh insights, chastening, refining, maturing – the work of the Holy Spirit.

That the Bible is a progressive revelation of God. That in the unfolding of Christ’s life and teaching we find the culmination of that revelation – the reality of a God who is the Father of love.

That love is the most potent force in life.

That Christ is the embodiment of that love and our perfect example.

That humility is the product of true contemplation.

That sincere contemplation – fellowship in prayer – communion with God will issue in service to our fellows.

That service ultimately takes on a vicarious quality.

That inner peace is not a goal; but a result of complete commitment of life.

That by whatever language or terminology we describe it, there is a power that flows into life: to cleanse, to renew, to enrich, to motivate, to ennoble – if we permit. For me that power is the conscious presence of Christ, ever leading on to finer living and more consecrated service.

John Spanner

APPENDIX FIVE

In April, 1966 some irresponsible talk on the theme “God is Dead” prompted me to assess my personal concept of God. This I published in our congregational monthly called “Communications,” May, 1966. This conviction grew out of a life-time of study, meditation and experience. I want to share it with you.

Is God Dead? – A Personal Testimony

No, dear friends, my God is not dead. Nor is He sitting out on a cloud, nor on a throne in any heavenly mansion “up there” or “out there”. No, He is a presence – a Living Presence. Nor have I ever had to go through the hell of despair wherein my God was dead and I had to find another. Nor do I believe that you or any other human must of necessity go through this. The only shadows that have fallen between my God and me have been caused by my own disobedience or by letting my “self” loom too large. I was young and now I am old, but through joy and sorrow, gain and loss, pain and pleasure, his Presence has never been far from me.

I have never been troubled by the mystery of the Trinity and man’s intervention of it. Sufficient for me are Christ’s many expressions of the oneness he had with the Father and his ‘promise’ that ‘my’ Spirit will come to you as a Comforter. I have one God, revealed in the Light that shines forth from the race of Jesus Christ. That one God has made himself known to me in enlarged vision, in doors thrown open, in fellowship with my fellows, and in a life of intimate association with youth. For all this I give humble thanks to Him.

My earliest awareness of the Presence was the light that shone forth from my Mother’s face and her grace and beauty that hallowed the atmosphere in which I grew up. This Presence became a personal experience for me before I was ten years old. The exact date is lost to me but the place is forever a clear picture in my mind. What my concept of this Presence was at this stage is not clear to me now. How child-like or primitive I do not know. What I do know is that down these sixty-five years of life since this youthful commitment, this concept has been growing ever larger, ever more sublime and beautiful, ever more satisfying in the expanding universe in which I find myself. This growth has been like every other learning process – a progression with long plateaus of progress on the level, then a new insight or vision that lifts one to a new level. Sometimes a dark tunnel, even a downward dip; but, ever a new breaking out of light that illumines the heights of human life and beckons one onward and upward. As one looks back over a lifetime one can recognize something on an individual scale that parallels the racial experience observed in the ever expanding concept of God revealed in the Bible – from the primitive Jacob moving out from the tribal setting of life, across the border, and surprised by the discovery that God was there too. From this to the open-eyed wonder of the Psalmist or the writer of the drama of Job’s experience, or higher still to the spiritual insight of an Amos, Moses, a Micah or Isaiah, one glimpses an ever larger and more adequate God. The perfect revelation comes in the life, teachings, service, sufferings, death, and resurrection of Jesus. With the early disciples we can cry ‘Jesus is Lord’, and enter into the spiritual heritage of Pentecost. Stories of the appearance of angels conferring with man create no problems when we realize that here were men really attuned o the Presence, open to the Spirit’s leading.

What is the nature or character of this Presence? Every manifestation of Truth, Beauty, and Love that touches our life. The majesty of a B.C. fir, or a California Redwood as they reach for the sky – the gnarled shape of the Cypress holding its own on a rocky cliff against the gales of the Pacific Ocean – or even the stark skeleton of such a tree grayed and beautified by wind and sun and rain, and silhouetted against an azure sky. The profusion of God’s bounty in our northern woods far from the regular haunts of men when the trillium is in full bloom; or the lavish spread of color in the tiny alpine flowers above tree-line in the Rockies, a Muskoka hillside in autumn, or a western sky at sunset. Surely here the hand of God has been at work.

Turning to the field of man’s achievements in all the sciences, in exploration, invention and the probing of space by telescope, camera, satellite, and manned space-craft; or in the other direction, to the new frontiers opened by the microscope and all the wonders of the infinitely small in our universe; surely God is still revealing himself and fulfilling his promise that man shall have dominion over the whole of Creation.

When we look for the Presence in Man and in human relationships we come to the apex of the whole of creation. Here Truth, Beauty, and Love come to full flower. Here we can see the utter dependence of the babe, the independence of youth and the inter-dependence of maturity; all the wonder of the discovery of self and the ‘other’; the unfolding of love, confidence, trust, commitment, the joys of friendship, the supreme achievement of two lives become one; the ecstatic joy of sharing in God’s role of Creation as a new life is conceived, nurtured in security to birth, and then the joy of bearing in one’s arms one’s own offspring; and the shared responsibilities of cherishing that young life to maturity and all the thrill of another cycle of life. How rich we are! What treasure we hold in earthen vessels.

A word must be said of the rich harvest that comes to us from the creative minds of other men in music, painting, sculpture, architecture, poetry and all noble literature. How sweet the joy as one comes upon a passage that light up a new insight or concept or clarifies a thought that has been forming in one’s own mind. Here in the quietness of a place apart one can read, meditate, pray and enter into the very Presence that sustains us all. Here one’s concept of God can grow and keep pace with the ever-expanding concept of the world we live in. Only when we fail to grow does our God become inadequate and perchance die. When our concept does grow until it embraces the full revelation of the Son of God – the full stature of Christ, then we are so drawn by His love that we must respond in love to Him. Then we will enter into His sufferings and our love find expression in Servanthood for His sake.

My days of life and of ministry to my fellows are numbered, but this witness of what God means to me – I would share with you. He is Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer – a living Presence that gives meaning to all of life. He liveth forevermore.

John Spanner

APPENDIX SIX

The following is a copy of a letter from my half-sister, Margaret Silverwood-Bray, written December 8, 1954.

“Here’s a try at a pen picture of my past impressions of the fall of the 1887, when mother was cook for J. W. Whiteside’s men. There came a day when the scaler, Mr. John Spanner came, with his man that used the stamping hammer, to scale the logs. He stayed for dinner, and as I see him now, he was a short, heavy-set man, dressed in heavy macanaws with socks to his knees tied with a crocheted cord with tassels at each end. As I saw him I wondered how he ever got through the snow with such short legs. He had a band of brown hair, a bit curly, around his head, with a bald top – a tuft of long hair in front and to the left side, which he brushed carefully over the bare top. Kindly blue eyes, a large red nose, fair or sandy mustache and a dark beard when he let it grow for a few days. A long heavy-set body – he was as tall as others as he sat, but short legs that robbed him of his height when standing.

I remember how he tried to make friends with Lillie and Bill, then just little tackers. He didn’t get far the first trip, but next time he had a bag of candy in his pocket. He finally got one on each knee for a short time. As he came later on they weren’t so shy, and soon it was their day when the scaler appeared. He drove a shiny black horse, Chief by name, with lots of bells. Near the close of the camp he took up a case in Mother’s favour. The men had been taking long spruce trees off her lot along the log road, and calling them white pine (Government timber). He took the trouble to wade the deep snow to all the freak stumps to measure them. He then went after the foreman, and finally after J. W Whiteside, and got the money for them for mother. Otherwise she would have lost all.

Then there came Sundays when shiny black Chief with all the bells came to our home and Mr. Spanner made his own visits. He got the little ones to call him Uncle Jack, and soon we was Uncle Jack to all of us.

On May 23, 1888, there came a big day when the two boys dressed in nice suits that Mother had made by hand from other garments, and we three girls in dresses just alike – a pretty grey with a double thread of cerese marking it off in quarter inch squares. They had yokes and a little frill across the front and a flounce at the bottom of the skirt. This served to let down and lengthen them as time went on. Mother made them all also her own new dress of Brown alpaca with brown velvet trimmings. We all walked over to Grandad Clark’s where preparations had been made for a wedding. Soon Uncle Jack arrived and Rev. Rural Dean Lloyd, then Rector of All Saints Anglican Church in Huntsville. The marriage took place in the living room of the new house (the one I remember).

We never learned of your father’s ancestry. He spoke of people who lived by a lake where he lived with them.

I remember along in June (mother had requested that we stop the Uncle Jack and call him father. Ruth and I were picking berries and discussing it. We were not quite ready for that. Or father was dead and how could we accept another? Ruth suggested we call him Daddy and that was that. Daddy continued with the lumber company for a time in winter and farmed in summer. He hired two men the winter before you were born and took logs off the home lot so he could be home. Mother was very poorly, and I had the big job of cooking and housekeeping. Well I remember how Daddy used to tell me what a good girl I was and now I know that made me do my very best. Then the baby came, my sweet wee brother. I had full care of you from the first washing and Mother used to say, “Oh, he is so sweet and clean – I never had a baby brought to me so nicely washed and changed. Well, I guess that put another feather in my cap, and made me love the job more and more.

Now brother don’t you wonder that you are still going strong after such an amateur nurse to start you? I often think with gratitude of how much Daddy’s ‘soft soap’ as he called it, helped me to be a better worker. He got sale for long double socks in the camp, and he used to boast to the boys how his daughter knit them. (I got that from some that I knew afterwards.) I remember driving him to a camp about 30 miles from home with the little bay mare, he bought from John Kitchen. We had dinner at a Mr. Fields, and a foreman from the camp came back to town with me. It was a long day and cold one, but I had accomplished something and I was happy. In the summer of l894 I was working in town. At the school picnic at the end of June Daddy had his first hemmorage from the kidneys. In September he grew worse and wanted me home to help Mother so I went. He was sick but up and about till some time in November. I remember one day I went into his room with something and you paddled in with me and stood looking at your Daddy. I gave him what I had brought, turned and took your wee hand and Daddy said, “My poor little Jack” as we walked out. I turned and saw tears in his eyes.

He was an Oddfellow and the members used to come and take turns sitting up nights to relieve Mother. On December 14, 1894, he passed away. The I.O.D.E. took over for the burial. I had never seen a corpse and didn’t want to go in but Harry was here. He took me in “be brave, you’ll be glad you did” and I was. He was prepared for burial right there and lay in his casket till the funeral 2 days later. Two of the lodge men were there when he passed away – Harry Warren was one. I remember Uncle John Kitchen came the next night and he read Mother’s favorite Psalm-103 at family worship. They stayed all night and drove us to the cemetery after a service at the house, with their shiny black team of horses and long sleigh.

Daddy had asked Mother to give me ten dollars out of his very small insurance money because I’d come home. That bought my wedding outfit in the spring of 1895. He had said he was glad I was getting a fine boy. He liked Harry. Now I must stop my memories.

Note: This is the most intimate knowledge I have of my father.

J. S.

SPANNER, John:

Suddenly on Thursday, October 14, 1976. John Spanner, beloved husband of Martha Walker of Richmond Hill, dear father of Marguerite (Mrs. James McMahon) of Halifax, N.S., loved by his five grandchildren and two great grandchildren. Resting at the Marshall Funeral Home, 10366 Yonge Street, Richmond Hill. Funeral service in the Richmond Hill United Church Monday 1 p.m. Interment Park Lawn Cemetery. In his memory a donation may be made to the John Spanner Fund, c/o Richmond Hill United Church.

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