More of Our Canada – July 2019

I

t was many years before I

went back to my hometown of

Swalwell, Alta. My youngest

daughter drove me, along with

my great-grandson. My child-

hood home had become a

tumbledown shack. The win-

dows were gone, the porch half

broken up. The chicken house

was only a pile of lumber, the

bushes were dying and the lilac

hedge all gone. Only my tree was

left. How overwhelmingly sad it

was to have my daughter and

great-grandson see my old home

like that!

I never went back again. I

won’t remember it that way. I

will remember the high lilac

hedge full of purple blossoms in

the spring, the sun porch

covered with grape vines, Mom’s

huge vegetable garden, my Dad’s

old chopping block, and, out

back, my make-believe roads

and bridges, where I travelled in

my dreams. I’ll keep only the

happy memories. As the old song

says, “When that tumbledown

shack by the railroad track” was

a home. These are a few of my

memories.

Happy and Loved

My first home was a small

three-room cottage in Swalwell,

Alta. I was born in 1920 and for

18 years, my home was alive with

love, laughter and colour from

the surrounding plants and

trees. Everyone called me

Josephine.

Our kitchen was the hub of the

house. Dominating the room was

a large black stove that was kept

burning all day. My mother’s

cooking filled the house with

wonderful smells. Flat irons

always sat on the stove top ready

for ironing, and, in the winter-

time, these were then wrapped

in towels to warm the foot of the

beds. We did not have running

water; it was hauled from the

village pump blocks away.

A trapdoor with a ladder led

down to the fruit cellar. There

were no real walls or floor down

there, just hard-packed dirt. It

was very cold in the winter, and

cool in the summer. My moth-

er’s canning was stacked on

shelves. On the floor were root

vegetables all packed in sand.

Remember, in those days, we

did not have electricity, so no

freezer or fridge. One day in the

summer, my mother went down

into the cellar and stepped on a

lizard. She took a deep breath

and took another step towards

the shelf where she wanted to

get a jar of peaches, when she

stepped on another lizard. That

was enough for her. She quickly

came up the ladder and we did

without peaches that day.

Afterwards, I was the one to go

down into the cellar for sup-

plies. And—horrors—I caught

the lizards and fed them to my

chickens.

My bed was either in the front

room or in an enclosed porch at

the front of the house. Early in

the morning, I would lie listen-

ing to the meadowlarks singing

and the grasshoppers chirping. I

felt happy and loved.

It Ta kes a Village

Remembering the town that called me Josephine

by Jo Carlton, Vancouver

THE WAY IT WAS

Josephine had a very happy

childhood growing up in Swalwell,

Alta., (left and lower right) and at

98 (upper right) is still grateful for

the wonderful memories.

30 More of Our Canada JULY 2019