Saturday 26 May 2012

Memoir-backstory

We lived about two hundred miles east of where my mother grew up.two hundred miles on the old highway that is.It's a bit closer now.My father was born and raised in the town of Springhill Nova Scotia,about fifty miles from our home in Moncton.

Many will know Springhill as the hometown of singer Anne Murray.But the primary reason for Springhill's existence is coal mining.Like many towns of its sort,it is filled with tough people who work long hours at a very dangerous job and who can often appear as though the world has worn them thin.My fathers parents certainly fit that description.Life could not have been easy for either of them.at some point my grandmother and grandfather were separated but not before having four children,the third of which was my father.William Davis was said to be a bootlegger in the 1920's before my father came along.He was also a carpenter-a ships carpenter he once told me.He was missing one finger which he said he lost in a mine accident.The history of Springhill is filled with mining accidents including at least three major mine disasters.The mines at Springhill became a thing of the past after the last disaster in 1958.My father was adamant that he did not want to be a miner,and so he left Springhill before he had his family.He often told me that he did not want his children to be raised in Springhill.Over the years I came to realize that he had somewhat of a love hate relationship with his hometown.

My own first memories of Springhill are of sitting in a barber shop and having my hair cut while my father talked to the barber.This was unusual because we always got our hair cut at the barber school in Moncton.They cut children's hair for free.It occurs to me now that there must have been some point to this visit aside from getting my hair cut.Surely my father knew the barber.I do remember that there was a building across the street from the barbershop that was being torn down while I sat in the chair.Later that day we visited the Sears catalog store.I don't recall why, as we never shopped there ourselves.I think we were just picking up something for whoever we were going to visit-maybe Aunt Roseanna.we visited the candy store too.The candy store was run by Jimmy,who was Greek and who treated everyone who came into his store as though they were a kid.My father loved to visit with Jimmy and when we left he would always say"be sure to come back soon,Walter".I'm sure he had been saying that to my father the same way for thirty years or more.

Usually when we were in Springhill we went to visit my Aunt Roseanna.I never especially liked visiting there.Her house was always old and falling down, it seemed and was full of dirty kids who would run around outside in bare feet in the coal.Aunt Roseanna's house burned coal.At least every house they lived in that I can remember did.I hated,still loath the smell of burning coal to this day.It was a smell you could not escape in Springhill.Out in the flats away from downtown there was a huge heap of coal slag which had caught fire and burned for many years,often blanketing the whole town with smoke.In the day you could see the smoke while driving by and at night there was sometimes an eerie glow.I once asked my grandfather when we driving by at night if that was Hell.I don't recall what his answer was,but looking back I can see how a kid might come to that conclusion.I came to view Springhill as being poor and dirty and rundown,and I guess it was compared to our modern house in Moncton.My father worked hard to get out of Springhill and buy a house.For a while I came to view the town as being not as good as us.I don't believe my father intended for us to take an attitude like that though.

1 comment:

  1. I am amazed at the things you remember that I don't, but this post makes me happy that both Dorian and Zack got to go to the Springhill barber and the candy store. It must have been a joy for dad to take them....
    The other memory that this raises for me is sitting onm the basement floor watching grampy use tools from that big tool chest and playing with the curls of wood shavings from the plane. The smell of fresh cut wood has always taken me back there......

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