An Oral History related to Claire E. Scheuren with Highlights of Gabarus History
THE BOOKS
Mildred Gray is acknowledged as the last surviving government-employed Morse Code operator and one of the last surviving manual switchboard operators in the Canadian Maritime provinces. Between the 1940s through the 1970s, Mrs. Gray was a one-woman 911, information and referral service, spiritual advisor, and companion to people giving birth and people dying. Now we need multiple institutions to do what Mrs. Gray and the other telegraph and switchboard operators did. Currently, Mrs. Gray resides in her lifetime home of Gabarus Village on Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia, Canada where she is a direct descendant of its 18th century European settlers.
BEST SELLER
EXCERPTS
Ice Skating at Night
Winters were very different then. Lots of snow, and the ice stayed frozen harder and longer. We used to go ice skating at Harris Lake, named after the Dan Harris’ family. There are three inlets at Harris Lake: first arm/lake, second arm/lake, third arm/lake. First arm is below the cemetery, the second arm was Roddy’s field—his land jutted out into the lake, and the third arm was right next to Harris Beach.
When I was a teenager I got to go skating at night. My husband Duncan’s father used to cut down big trees for a bonfire. I remember the sparks flying around in the night. And I can still remember the moonlight shining on the ice and the smell of burning spruce.
We used to make fudge in a big pot and pour it on the frozen lake. We used four or five bags of sugar and canned milk to make it. It was poured out in a square about three feet wide. Then the men would skate it into pieces.
Ice Boat, SecondLake Gabarus. 1942. Photographer Unknown.
Item Number 89-1216-19424. Beaton Institute, Cape Breton University
Drawing of Gabarus Village by David “Fitz” Fitzsimmons. Used with permission
How I Became the Morse Code Operator
Christina Grant MacKillop was the operator for forty-five years until July of 1946 when she became ill with cancer and died not that long after. She was probably in her seventies at the time. Another woman with the same last name, Mrs. MacKillop, took her place. It was supposed to be a temporary job, since she had a big family in Grand River. She brought two of her daughters to go to school in Gabarus and planned to stay for six months. I thought she would stay longer.
I was invited by Mrs. MacKillop to take the course on Morse Code. It was a good government job, and I started to learn it in November of 1946. At the time I was pregnant with Albert, and I could do my training by simply walking to the telegraph office across from my home on Memory Lane. I was taking my time, since there was no sense of urgency.
All of a sudden that changed. One day in March 1947 Mrs. MacKillop had a pain in her heart. She called her son Kyle to take her to the hospital, and she died at 9 p.m. that very night. Immediately, I received a call from an official at the Federal Department of Transportation, now Fisheries and Oceans, who asked me: “Do you think you can do it? There are four night letters [which have forty words in each]; two of them are in French.” I said: “I’ll try!” I had to stay up all night and struggled with the French. It was a trial by fire.
In those days, telegrams were written with an ink pen. My tears blotched the words, and it was hard to make out what I had written. I was scared to death. I said to myself “You have to get over this!” I thought about the Grant family motto: “Keep strong.” I asked God to help me, and he did.
All things happen with a purpose; we may not understand right away, or ever. Anything you have to do, you can do it! Nothing is impossible.
ISBN # 978-0-9796921-1-6 (pbk.)
ISBN # 978-0-9796921-3-0 (hc.)
ISBN # 978-0-9796921-2-3 (ebook)
CANADA
* Canadian Readers *
Bringing Out The Untold Life is available through Indigo
A Delightful and Informative Read
This is a charming and wonderful book. And this is the way to learn history -- a written version of the oral tradition. Mrs. Gray has a phenomenal memory of happenings in a small fishing village over her 93 years. For those lucky few who are familiar with Gabarus, and the larger group who are familiar with Cape Breton, and the maritime provinces of Canada, this rich collection of tales -- happy and sad -- will strike a chord, but as a microcosm, the stories will appeal to a wide audience. I heartily recommend this great read. That author did a splendid job of distilling hours and hours of conversation with Mrs. Gray into an easy read and an interesting study.—
Florence Nygaard
Living History At Its Best
This book is a wonderful and moving collection of memories and history. You need never have heard of Gabarus, or any other community this book touches upon, to enjoy the stories Mildred tells or the memories she shares about growing up and living in her little corner of Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. I've been smiling and laughing and yes, I even shed a few tears, while reading. 93 years of really living is a great read!
Jennifer Witham
Anybody can read our ebook for Kindle —even without a Kindle device—with the FREE Kindle app for smartphones and tablets.
Gabarus Telegraph Office
From 1947-1959 I was responsible for the telegraph central office in Gabarus. I would take a message in Morse Code and deliver it by hand or call and repeat it in English for 13 stations through communicating with my community contacts in Main-à-Dieu [pronounced in Cape Breton: “Manadew”], Framboise, Fourchu, Bateston, Baleine, L’Ardoise [pronounced in Cape Breton: “Lordways”], and other communities along the eastern shore. There were very few phones before the switchboard. We did have one because of the store.
Until 1962 when the telegraph office was closed by the federal agency, my whole life was tuned in to the click of the Morse Code key. GU in Morse Code were my call letters. G is “--. (dash dash dot )”, and U is “..-“ (dot dot dash).
In Morse Code one dot makes a big difference. The numbers make a difference too, and you must have the date right. In those days, telegrams were handwritten in ink on green paper. I spread the word via telephone and people carried the messages by foot, door–to-door.
Nine Decades of Changes to Land and Sea
The ice cap is melting, and it will never be the same. It has made a big difference here in the village. Fifty or sixty years ago there was a lot more snow and the lakes froze solid. Now we have hardly any winter and hardly any snow. Now you have to go into the woods to get enough snow to cross country ski or to snow-shoe. The lakes don’t freeze like they used to. The lakes are saltier and don’t freeze as much or as long.
We always had drift ice in April from the Bay of St. Lawrence. For the past four or five years we haven’t had ice clampers, big pieces of ice in the bay. We have no drift ice now. When I was a little girl, we used to jump from one ice pan to another in the barachois. Grammy Reid, my mother’s mother, lived at the end of the road right by the beach. She would be at the fence yelling at us: “Don’t jump there!” You couldn’t get an ice pan in there now.
