Humor from the Noel Shore

By Hattie Dyck with the help of Olive Terris, Truro, the late Grace

Morehouse and others

This piece was printed in the weekly bulletin over the past few weeks and is presented here in full as was submitted by Hattie.

Olive Terris grew up in Noel Shore on the beautiful Cobequid Shore. She was one of a family of 12 children who grew up there in the days when there were a lot of big families and a much different outlook on moral standards and material wealth than is apparent today.

She laughs about her mother's high moral standards which included not allowing her to walk to school with a boy, although she couldn't understand its significance then as she can't today. Anyhow, it was Ruth Hills way of thinking as she went about raising 6 girls and 6 boys.

Their home was near Campbell's Hill and at the top of the hill the late Seward Neil lived with his parents Vincent and Ruby Neil. At 12 years young Olive had a crush on Seward and wanted to walk to school with him, but was forbidden to do so because he was a male. So the pair of them worked out a strategy to make it possible. Seward's grandfather, Harris Neil, had a workshop beside the road which became part of their strategy.

Seward would come out in the morning and go to the west side of the workshop and wait there for Olive. Although her mother could sit at her kitchen table and look up to the Neil home, the workshop blocked further view which allowed the errant two to meet and walk the mile to the school house together.

She well remembers the old blue flannel bloomers that girls were made to wear in those days to keep them warm. Most hated them because they would slip down below your knees and you would get teased. Olive recalls one Christmas when all she asked for was Eaton's doll which cost .99 cents. Instead she got two pair of blue bloomers and a box of crayons. I too remember those bloomers because Mum made me wear them under a dress to school and one day on my way home from school they slipped

down below that dress. Merrill Miller was among the group walking home that day and he teased me about my bloomers. I was so mortified and angry at him that when I said my prayers that night I asked God he would please give him a pair of horns so he'd have one on each side of his head when he woke up in the morning. That was one prayer that wasn't answered and much to my disappointment Merrill's head remained intact the next day.

But, back to Olive. She remembers being with her mother who delivered babies and sat with seniors who were dying. Shortly after Mrs. Harris Neil died the family was discussing whether they would call Steve Hennigar a popular Noel undertaker who despite the fact he didn't have the latest in equipment was well liked and kind to the mourning families. Steve's rudimentary hearse was pulled by two horses with Steve at the helm. Part of his popularity came from the fact he was also a great singer and played the autoharp. If a funeral came the same day as a community dance he would combine the two. Olive said there was some question of whether they would get Steve to bury her, or use an undertaker who had set up shop in Rawdon and had more fancy equipment. Harris Neil settled any argument by stating it would be Steve, because he had buried his other two wives and did a good job, so he would be the one to come at this time. Lest anyone dispute Steve's competency, Mr. Neil proclaimed "neither of them came back did they?" And so, he reasoned Steve had done a good job.

She remembers Will Campbell who lived part way up Campbell's Hill by Mungo's Brook. Mr. Campbell loved the old Christmas carols and sang Joy to the World all year round. It kept him company when he went to the basement to put in or organize his potato and turnip bins. Mungo's Brook was also important to Stewart and Percy Densmore who also lived by the hill, Stewart at the top and Percy at the bottom in the

house now owned by Paul and Betty Densmore. They fished shad and bass and Stewart peddled them along the shore in his red Model T car. He was a familiar sight and a welcome one along what is now route 215 because he was a kind man especially to children. Both Olive and the author of this book recall getting a drive with him in those days when there were few cars and it was a real treat to have a drive in one.

Albert Densmore, a mill owner in Noel Shore was a bit of a character. Mr. Densmore didn't talk to people unless he knew who they were and who their father was. One day young Wilfred Densmore who died in WW11 went to visit him. He looked at the youth and said "Who be ye?" Wilfred replied that he was Wilfred Densmore. "And who be ye father?" Mr. Densmore asked, to which Wilfred replied he was George Densmore. Good enough for Albert. He said "aw yes, same breed of cats just a different litter."

Olive recalls a story of Albert who was known to sometimes drink a bit too much going to the Lower Selma church. At the front of the church the choir would enter and go in one direction and the minister to the other. Albert thought the minister was going the wrong way so he promptly told him "hey old feller, you're going to the wrong stall." It is believed that was the last time he went to that church.

The author recalls a meeting of the Annapolis Valley Affiliated Boards of Trade in Kentville one time which she attended with Herb MacDuffie of Selma who was a local Councillor, and Ervette Hamilton of East Noel who had a guest home. The meeting was one of the many to promote the Fundy Vacation Trail which was proposed to run from St. Martin's, New Brunswick to Yarmouth. It also included the Shubenacadie River Crossing which was promoted for 40 years before it was eventually built when Gerald Regan was Premier.

Ervette, who was a wonderful cook and housekeeper didn't care too much

about protocol and with a grin, said to Herb as we sat down, "what in

heavens name do I do with all these forks and knives." Herb, who also had a good sense of humor replied "don't worry about it Ervette, just do as I do." The ironic and humorous part of this meal was when Herb picked up his tomato juice the glass caught on the edge of the tablecloth and spilled on his lap.

Another good story about Ervette was the night she was baking cookies only to find she didn't have enough brown sugar. So, she headed for Margaret and Chester Densmore's corner store to buy some. Ervette was a big woman and when she was on a mission she moved quickly and didn't plan on wasting any time. That night Dudley Densmore, who lived on the Point Road and whose main claim to fame was the long beard he grew each winter, was standing just inside the store door when she arrived. "Oh Ervette," he said, "how do you like my beard?" Ervette never missed a step as she replied "it looks just like a sheep's ass."

Dr. Charles Morehouse told the story of visiting the home of Bessie Hennigar in Northfield in the days when rural homes were equipped with telephones on party lines. No one locked their doors in those days so the good doctor just walked in to find Bessie obviously listening in on a conversation taking place on the phone.

Dr. Morehouse chided her about doing this to which Bessie turned around, smiled and replied "What else Dr., do you expect me to do for fun in Northfield?"

Another story Dr. Morehouse told was of a lady who delivered a baby during World War 11. In those days the doctor filled out the birth certificate and so two days after the birth he visited the new mother. When he asked her who the father was she said her husband, of course. "But, he couldn't be," the doctor said. Your husband has been overseas for two years" I'll have you know the lady replied that my husband has penciled me a letter every two days since he went away." Not, to be convinced Dr.

Morehouse said, "then he must have one hell of a long lead in his pencil."

When my son Bruce was about six years old he had a needle for something at school and reacted to it. So Dr. Morehouse came, gave him something and told me whatever it was it would take 24 hours to work. Well that was late October or early November, there was a snowstorm brewing and the next day about 4 o'clock when it was beginning to get dark, I thought Bruce was worse and was beginning to panic. So, I called Grace and asked if the Dr. was coming up shore would he please come in and take a look at Bruce. That he did. I'll never forget him coming through the door, passed

by me in the kitchen and went into the living room where Grampy George (Densmore) was rocking Bruce. He did a circle around the rocking chair, came back toward the kitchen and said to me "Well Hattie, Bruce won't be any better now but you will."

And he was so right.

Another time he gave me good advice was before my twins was born. At that particular time I was about 5 foot tall and five foot wide and couldn't get my housecleaning done. In fact at the end of it I could hardly get out of a chair without help. I was complaining to the Dr. about it and his assessment was: Who's going to remember when you die that in 1959 you didn't have your housecleaning done? And, if that's all you would be remembered for in this world you won't have done much anyway.

Vesta and Roy Densmore lived at the top of our lane and Vesta was a real character. She was a wonderful cook, a midwife, and would be the first one there if you needed her which I did on several occasions.

Grace Morehouse told me the story of how Dr. Morehouse had four births to attend to in one day. It was in December of 1956 and the roads weren't very good in the winter back then. Anyway the first one was twins Deborah and Dana Williams and the next was Mary Ella Hamilton, daughter of Madeline and Lawrence Hamilton. But the doctor just couldn't get here in time so Vesta delivered Mary Ella for him.

The best story I remember about Vesta is certainly a true one because I was there at the time. It was 1955 and we had just came back to the farm. Grammy (Ruby) Densmore was hosting either a Ladies Aid or a UCW, I'm not sure which and she invited me to come. In those days if you weren't married by the time you were 20 you were considered an "old maid." That wasn't a compliment believe me because no one thought you just hadn't found the right companion, they thought there was obviously something wrong with you. Anyway at this gathering the ladies were discussing a

young woman who was over 20 and not yet married. It was an interesting conversation with a variety of reasons being bantered around. I didn't dare come to her defense because it was my first meeting and I thought if I knew what was good for me I'd keep my opinions to myself although that was never easy for me to do. Anyway, Vesta, who was always a supporter of the underdog stood up and said Ladies, there's no need to worry. She’ll marry in due course. You have to remember that every piss pot has its lid. Well, she did get married but let me tell you she married the piss pot and not the lid.

Chester Canning told Olive the story of how important the first telephones were that came to the shore. In fact, he said, Mrs. Harris Neil considered it of such great importance to her home that she would put on a clean apron before she answered it.

Rev. Curtis MacDonald of Halifax who grew up in Maitland tells the story of when his brother George came to run the Royal Bank in Maitland while his father, the permanent banker went on vacation. George had forgotten the logistics of the old time telephone operation which was a one person affair, and got perturbed when he called several times to get the operator and didn't get an answer. When operator Carrie Macomber (Kitchen) finally came on the line George began to complain loud and long. Carrie wasn't too upset by his grumbling. She quickly countered his complaint by saying "even Carrie has to pee."

The author chuckles about the time a reporter from the Halifax Herald was looking for her and called her home. Her husband was in the barn and one of the younger kids answered the phone. When the reporter asked where she was, the child said she didn't know. At that point the Noel telephone operator, Aileen Fahey, who was a good friend of mine and always knew my movements, came on the phone and said " she's gone to a Tory meeting in Upper Kennetcook."

Joan MacLellan was an important part of life on the Shore for many years. Joan first came from England to Stirlings Brook to visit a war bride, Mrs. Lloyd ( Julia) Cox. She met and married Gilmore MacLellan and they raised three children on their dairy farm in Noel Shore. The author remembers getting a telephone call from Joan when she was

working in Halifax telling her she had to come down to Noel to a meeting that was very important to the community. At issue was the fact that Ducks Unlimited had put a dam in Noel Lake, which was badly needed, but they had neglected to inform the community and ask permission to do so. Joan, who was councillor for the area, was chairperson of the meeting and was in good form as Ducks Unlimited member Hugh Fairn was desperately trying to explain why they had taken this action. After quite a long time, Mr. Fairn who was running out of explanations got up and said "Mrs.

MacLellan don't you realize that putting that dam in Noel lake means progress for the community." Joan who never wanted to be outdone, quickly countered by saying "Mr. Fairn, let me tell you this, these people don't want progress."

Murphy Densmore of Densmore's Mills was a character in his time. Murphy never married nor did he ever own a car. The Neil family of which several were boys lived close by him and most of them had an old car that they were continually fixing to keep it on the road. They'd borrow parts from one car to fix another but none of them worked very well or very long. One day Murphy was walking down the road to the corner store and one of the boys came along and offered him a drive. "No thanks," said Murphy. "I'm in a hurry."

Ern Ettinger from Shubenacadie was the MLA for East Hants long before the days when we had to be politically correct. Ern was an undertaker, and this one day he was in Halifax fighting with the bureaucrats to get some widow a pension. Like many others have experienced over the years, he was getting nowhere fast. The story goes that he became so frustrated that he asked the young bureaucrat where he lived to which he replied Halifax. "Are you married?" Ern said and the man said yes. Ern then looked him straight in the eye and said "when you go home tell your wife for me that if she ever decides to shoot you I'll bury you for nothing."

And, thinking about politics in those days, Grampy Morris Densmore of East Noel used to grow strawberries and Johnny Gorman from Noel used to peddle them. This arrangement worked well unless strawberry time and election time came at the same time. Grampy Morris was a staunch Tory and Mr. Gorman was just as staunch a Liberal. And there was no way he would be seen peddling Tory berries with an election in the offing.

When I was growing up in Lower Selma the Angus L MacDonald Liberal government was in power. My step-father George Smith was a staunch Tory although my mother always went to the poll and voted Liberal just to cancel out his vote. That was probably the only way she ever beat him out in anything. The roads were all gravel in those days and in summer the government would put some kind of oil guck on them to keep down the dust. But the road crew who were all Liberal at the time because the

Liberals were in power knew that both us and the Millers who lived across the road from us were Tory so they'd conveniently stop putting down the guck by these two houses and start again at Ed Densmore's next door because he was a good Liberal. And George who rarely ever swore would curse them into heaps. Such was political life in those days when one party was as bad as the other.