Beloved Horton
Was there ever a more magical place to visit
than Nanny and Grampy’s farm?
by Donna Smit,Saint John, N.B.W
e used to visit my
mother’s parents,
Johnston and Flor-
ence Miner, every summer. In
the beginning, it was Mom, my
sister Ruby, our two younger
brothers, Dale and Gary, and
me. Three more children were
added to the mix later. Our dad
remained in Saint John, build-
ing or remodelling houses. Even
though it was a challenging
undertaking for our mother, she
didn’t suppress our high spirits
and excitement as we looked
forward to our visit with Nanny
and Grampy.
We’d embark on the old
ferry—the Princess Helene,
which we thought was a huge
ship—that took about three and
a half hours to cross the Bay of
Fundy and dock in Digby, N.S.
The train from Halifax met
the ferry in those days, about a
three-hour ride “down the line.”
The towns whizzed by as we ate
our lunch; we were both thrilled
and terrified as we crossed the
trestle bridge high over Bear
River. Anticipation mounted as
we heard the town names being
called: Bridgetown, Middleton,
Kentville and Wolfville. When
we reached Grand Pre, it was
time to grab our suitcases.
“Horton Landing next stop,” the
conductor would call out. Can a
child live all year for these two
weeks? I think we did.
Horton Landing (now called
Hortonville) is situated in theheart of the Annapolis Valley,
nestled along the Minas Basin,
an inlet of the Bay of Fundy
known for its extremely high
tides. It is also a part of the land-
scape of Grand Pre UNESCO
World Heritage Site. Between
1759 and 1768 thousands of New
England Planters (colonists)
were invited to settle in the area
by Nova Scotia’s Lieutenant Gov-
ernor after the deportation of the
Acadians. The Planters and later
the Loyalists built a bustling
community in this beautiful part
of Canada known for its agricul-
ture. One of our ancestors on our
mother’s side made the movefrom Connecticut.
Exiting the train in Hor-
ton Landing, we’d spring into
Grampy’s waiting arms. His
farmer’s face had a few wrinkles
in those days but my sister and I
thought him handsome. He was
a quiet man with a twinkle in
his eye and just knowing he was
there gave us a sense of perma-
nence. Dashing up the laneway
we’d run through the back door
into Nanny’s welcoming hug. She
wasn’t a demonstrative person
so we treasured this display of
affection. A petite lady with an
abundant sense of humour, sheTHE WAY IT WAS54 More of Our Canada SEPTEMBER 2019