Great Grandpa and Great Grandma Brousseau / ancestors and descendants

Part one - Great Grandma and Great Grandpa Brousseau

I remember visiting great-grandpa Brousseau once with mommy and daddy and Johnny and Jimmy and Patty. He lived in Sandy Hill but I don't remember the name of the street

All I remember of great-grandpa was that he was very gentle and kind.

He might have been ill the day we visited him because he was downstairs resting on the couch in the parlor which was on the right-hand side upon entering the house. It seemed like a large house with stairs on the left-hand side I believe but that`s about all I can remember.

Most of the knowledge I have of great-grandpa Brousseau was what mommy told me. And I never knew great-grandma because she died of tuberculosis when she was very young. I know great grandpa Brousseau eventually married again and had more children and but I don't know that much else.

I wish I knew more about mommy and daddy when they were growing up and their parents and grandparents too. I should have asked more questions.

Mommy told me that at one time when her grandfather Brousseau was younger he owned a dairy farm in Montreal and that it was located in what is now known as Lafontaine Park. I think mommy told me it was off of St. Catherine Street.

One thing I know for sure is that great-grandpa was a very kind and generous man. In fact, he began every day by distributing milk from his dairy farm to people in need for free before his regular deliveries.

Great Grandpa Cesaire Brousseau and Great Grandma Therese Blouin were married at St Louis de France Montreal in 1892 and had three children, Emile, ( grandpa ) aunt Bertha and  before Great Grandma's death of Tuberculosis at the age of 24 

Mommy also told me that when great-grandma Therese was very ill, great-grandpa asked Brother Andre whom he knew quite well, to come to their home and pray for her. Grandpa Brousseau was just a little kid at the time and when he recounted the story to mommy, he said that everybody in the household was excited because the "good brother" as they called Brother Andre was going to be a house guest.

Unfortunately, my great-grandma didn't recover. When Brother Andre arrived at the house he knew right away before he prayed over her that she wasn't going to survive. Great Grandma Therese was just 24 when she died of tuberculosis. 

I find it interesting that both granny and grandpa Brousseau shared a connection to Brother Andre.

I don't know what happened after that. Did Great-Grandpa remarry in Montreal? When did he move to Ottawa? He lived in Ottawa for a long time and like I said I remember visiting him when I was very little. I know he lived in Sandy Hill with his new wife and the children

Mommy also told me that great-grandpa was a very devout Catholic and attended mass almost every weekday at Paroisse Sacre Coeur in Sandy Hill in Ottawa and sang in the choir on Sundays. He loved God, he loved his very large family and he loved to sing. Can't go wrong there!

While searching on the internet for information on the Brousseau family tree, I found the links below, much of which were compiled by my cousin Denise Charlebois. Thanks, Denise; awesome work!

Below are a few charts from Denise Charlebois awesome research 

Below the charts are links for a comprehensive detailed summary of the family tree. 

The links below were from this website 
https://mesancetres.ca/en/

click here for the family tree of grandpa Brousseau

Émile Brousseau 1896–1985 – webtrees (mesancetres.ca)

Click here for family tree of grandma Brousseau

Majorie Hedwidge Guillet 1898–1993 – webtrees (mesancetres.ca)

click here for ancestors of granny and grandpa Brousseau

Émile Brousseau + Majorie Hedwidge Guillet – webtrees (mesancetres.ca) 

Click here for the Ancestors of great grandpa and Great Grandma Brousseau Brousseau

Césaire Brousseau + Thérèse Blouin – webtrees (mesancetres.ca)

Click here for information on our great great grandmother Marie Bessette who was a cousin of Saint Brother Andre of Montreal 

Marie “Bessette” Bissette – – webtrees (mesancetres.ca)

Part Two - Granny and Grandpa Brousseau 

A Few Photos

The three pictures below were taken at a mass in honour of granny and grandpa at Aunt Adie and Uncle Bob's in their backyard at 10 Crescent Drive in Lakeview Terrace. 1983 I think it was the celebration of their 50th Anniversary. Aunt Audrey Guillet knew some young seminarians and she asked them to lead the music. They were members of the Community of Priests founded by Fr. Bob Bedard  They are now called the Companions of the Cross

  

   Below - 

Grandpa with six of their children

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Granny with their 5 girls 

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 At their cottage in Burnett I used to love going there. Aunt Adie and uncle Bob also had a cottage in the same area. It was just across the road  and up on a hill. I remember one time going to granny and grandpa's cottage with aunt Carol when she was just a teenager. The beach was a short distance away going East. I remember walking on the railway tracks one time with aunt Carole to go for a swim although I didn't go in the water and just watched aunt Carole as she swam

Granny sitting in the middle of the front row

Visiting Granny and Grandpa Brousseau

As well as my visits to daddy’s parents on the farm, I have equally fond childhood memories of summer visits to mommy’s parents in the house that grandpa Brousseau built and where mommy grew up, at 50 Sweetland Ave., in Sandy Hill. Whereas Johnny and I went together to visit Grandma and Grandpa Maloney, when I visited granny and grandpa Brousseau I usually had them all to myself.

Grandpa came to get me on several occasions for at least a few days and sometimes for as long as a week. He always gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Grandpa had this trick that I knew was coming. He would kiss us kids on the cheek while blowing through his moustache so that it made a whistling sound. I laughed hysterically every time he did this.

Grandpa wasn’t very tall so he used to sit on a cushion when he drove his car. Just a little bit of trivia

Oh how I loved those times. I remember entering the house by way of the back porch located at the right hand side of their narrow driveway.

From the back porch there was another door leading into a very large kitchen. There was an icebox in the porch on the left. In the centre of the kitchen there was a table and behind the table to the left there were narrow winding stairs that led up to the room that became mine for as long as I was there. It was a room straight out of a fairy tale with frilly curtains and bedspread and I loved it! It was so private and cozy. There was a door at the bottom of the stairs and one at the top. As a kid I had the feeling like it was my own little apartment.

There was even a typewriter near the window. I remember trying to type on it although I am not sure if I was allowed to or not.

The porch, kitchen and the magical bedroom all had a distinctive really nice smell that is locked in my memory. Maybe it was the wooden floors or cupboards: I don’t know how to explain it. Sort of like a new car smell but different. Grandpa spent a lot of time in the basement building furniture so that could be part of it.

Anyways, granny always had a big hug for me when I got there and of course milk and cookies at the kitchen table.

I remember taking milk and cookies down to the basement for grandpa too when he was busy building a new piece of furniture. Milk and cookies were always a staple when visiting granny and grandpa: even when we got older.

Sitting on the wooden swing in the backyard with granny and sometimes grandpa and talking about anything and everything, especially mommy when she was growing up, was so exciting. I wish I could remember more of what we talked about. I think grandpa made the swing but I’m not sure.

Aunt Adelaide, granny’s sister lived on Nelson Street which was parallel to Sweetland and just one street west of it. She lived in the house directly behind granny and grandpas’s so if they were both outside at the same time they could have a chat at the back fence, and I think they usually did. I remember going to visit aunt Adelaide with granny once. I think we had to walk around the block to get there: I don’t think there was a gate in the fence.

Aunt Mary who was another one of granny’s sisters lived in granny and grandpa's house but she had her own little apartment. The entrance to her apartment was at the front of the house whereas granny and grandpa’s front entrance was to the right and down the little walkway. I used the back door most of the time and my memory is a bit sketchy when it comes to the front of the house but it seems to me that their front door opened directly into the living room and the first thing you would see was the very large grandfather clock which was about six feet high and stood on the floor on the left hand side against the wall. Beyond the living room was a hall which led to the kitchen. On the right hand side of the hall was the entrance to the basement. It seems to me granny and grandpa’s bedroom was off of the living room to the left. I remember a window above their door, which I guess you see in old houses.

Jimmy tells me that in 1975 he rented an upstairs apartment at 52 Sweetland in the house where uncle Yvon grew up and that aunt Bertha had an apartment there as well at that time. He says that Aunt Bertha was a lot of fun and that they occasionally had a gin and tonic together. A little bit of family trivia

I miss you granny and grandpa and I love you both just like I did when I was little

Christmas Memories

We kids knew from when we were very little, that the birth of Jesus which we celebrated each year with our families and friends was really special. I remember daddy saying that when we invite Jesus into our hearts we will experience joy even in the midst of our difficulties. Christmas was about loving one another the way Jesus loves us, “be  nice to your brothers and sisters“ was used by mommy a lot when we were growing up but more so around Christmas I think'. Our parents said that it was not about receiving gifts but truth be told, we did look forward to Santa’s arrival on Christmas Eve and hoped he didn’t forget what we asked for and that he didn’t get lost either. 

Mommy started the baking really early. I remember the Christmas cakes, squares and cookies of every kind; oatmeal cookies, molasses cookies, chocolate chip cookies, shortbread you name it: mommy made it. There were date squares, ritzy bars, applesauce cake, donuts, minced meat pies, apple pies. 

We had a large freezer in the basement on Isabelle Street where mommy stored these succulent dainties until they were needed. Occasionally we kids would sneak downstairs and check out the frozen goodies for a sample or two or three. The trick was to rearrange the container so there didn’t appear to be anything missing. The frozen shortbread cookies were my favourite.

Christmas cards were sent out early. I remember helping mommy address the cards at the kitchen table. She wrote a personal note on each card she sent:  I 'm sure she sent out 100 of them.  
Cards received, were hung on strings from one side of the living room to the other side. 

Before supper, every evening at 5 during the weeks leading up to Christmas, mommy turned on the radio (CFRA) so we could listen to the adventures of Santa Clause and, Alfie, Andy and Little Mary, and Crakko (the bad elf). These episodes were so magical and mysterious: we kids just loved them.

Finding a nice Christmas tree was daddy’s job and he usually got one about a week before Christmas. I remember one of the times that daddy took Johnny and me and Jimmy and Patty to find a tree. He parked the car along the highway, grabbed the saw or the axe ( I'm not sure what he used ) and we trekked through the snow taking turns pulling Patty in the sled while trying to avoid bunny droppings in the snow. After daddy found a tree to his liking, he cut it down and then dragged it back to the car, put it in the trunk and secured it with heavy cord. When we got home daddy usually cut a piece off of top because we always seemed to get a tree that was too high:  they looked smaller in the woods. After that daddy set it up in in the living room in a special tree stand which he made that had lots of room for water. 

Finally we kids helped mommy and daddy decorate it. The best thing about the tree was the smell. When the tree was up it really felt like Christmas. I don't think we put lights on the indoor tree but daddy always put lights on some of the bushes in the front of the house.

At times when we didn't have a car daddy would buy a tree from somebody who was selling them close to our house. 

The Nativity set that daddy built was put out around the time the Christmas tree was installed and decorated. Sometimes it was on a table, sometimes if there was room it was put on the floor under the tree. Baby Jesus even had straw to sleep on. 

Attending Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve was always a wonderful experience. Even though it was about a mile to our Church, Our Lady of the Annunciation in Hull, I remember walking there on many occasions, with mommy and daddy, in the winter as well as in the summer. I clearly remember  the street lights shining through the falling snow one time when we were walking to Church and I am pretty sure it was Christmas Eve. Daddy was pulling Patty in the sleigh. We didn’t always have a car. 

Mass on Christmas Eve was wonderful. Mommy and daddy had to get tickets ahead of time to ensure that we all had a seat. The church was always packed. There were always so many people that we usually didn’t get our favourite pew near the middle on the left. I remember we often had to sit closer to the back but that was ok. I loved the Christmas music too. 

After mass, mommy and daddy always took us up to see baby Jesus in the manger before going home.

When we got home on this one particular Christmas Eve, Santa Claus hadn’t arrived yet, so we kids were whisked off to bed. Santa Claus waits till children are asleep before coming down the chimney or through the front door, whatever the case may be, so it was important to fall asleep quickly. After saying my prayers, mommy tucked me in and I remember trying hard to fall asleep but at the same time hoping that I would hear the sound of Santa's sleigh in the distance before I drifted off. I dared not take a peek out the window in case he saw me and passed us by. 

Christmas Morning was always magical. We kids usually sneaked down to the living room early to see what Santa had left under the tree and then waited patiently for mommy and daddy to wake up.  Every year our stockings which we had lined up on the back of the couch on Christmas Eve were filled to the top. We usually got an orange an apple, some nuts and some Christmas candy. We didn't use fancy stockings like kids used today: just our everyday knee socks. Under the tree were beautifully wrapped presents, and I thought I was going to burst waiting for mommy and daddy. I think I was usually up before Johnny. Sometimes daddy was in the kitchen making his special stuffing for the turkey that seemed to cook all day. I don’t know why it took so long.

When everyone was up mommy and daddy handed out the presents. We didn’t just rip the paper off either. We carefully unwrapped each gift, so that the beautiful paper could be used again. Every year each of us kids received flannelette pyjamas, slippers, socks, usually a game, maybe a toboggan. I usually got a doll. I wish I had kept some of them: I still like dolls. 

One Christmas, daddy went down to the basement after we opened our presents and excitedly came up the stairs. “Santa Claus left something for Johnny and Maureen in the basement” he said.  We hurried down to find an electric train set for Johnny and a beautiful doll house for me. I will never forget how excited we were.

Oh and how we looked forward to the best Christmas dinner you can imagine with daddy’s amazing stuffed turkey and mommy’s mashed potatoes and gravy and carrots and cranberry sauce. For dessert we almost always had mommy’s delicious homemade plum pudding with caramelized sauce. It was melt in your mouth delicious.

When dinner was over and after helping to dry the dishes we all hurried to put on our new cozy pyjamas and slippers and together we would watch a Christmas special on TV. In those days there was always a Christmas program about the birth of Jesus. Not so much anymore. After that, we said our prayers and went to bed. I remember the simple prayer mommy taught me.
“God bless me and make a good girl and God bless, mommy and daddy and Johnny and Jimmy and Patty, and grandma and grandpa and granny and grandpa and all my aunts and uncles and cousins  and all my friends and everybody else Amen” 

We often had visitors, mostly relatives, during the Christmas season and there was no shortage of succulent desserts. 

A day or 2 after Christmas if we had a car, we often different Churches to see the different cribs. Some were spectacular and some were very simple but all were beautiful.

As I grew older and Paula and Barbara were added to our family, our traditions were much the same: our bedtime prayer got longer because there were more people to pray for. We always had a real tree, mommy baked tons of goodies and sent out oodles of Christmas cards, we usually went to midnight mass, but on Christmas morning it was Paula and Barbara who waited anxiously for the rest of us to get up. 

Lost in the woods

 Maureen Johnny Aunt Helen  and Mommy

probably the year after we got lost 

Daddy worked for the National Research Council on the corner of Blair and Montreal Roads in Ottawa Ontario. There were many small houses built there during and after the war to provide housing for the NRC employees and their families. At the same time, the same types of houses were built on the Rockliffe airbase which was situated just slightly North West of where we lived. They were built at around the same time for men and women of the Canadian Airforce and their families.

Overall, 46,000 similar homes were built across Canada, during and after the Second World War, by the Wartime Housing Corporation (which became the Central Mortgage and Housing Corporation in 1946.) Initially, these homes were built to house people working in war-related industry. Anyways that's a little bit of history surrounding the type of house that we lived in at that time
click here and here

Here's a bit of trivia about this house that we lived in when I was 2. Daddy told me that when I was born he planted a tiny lilac bush near the house. Years later when the NRC wind tunnel in the area of Blair Road and Montreal Road was built it was exactly where our house was and even though the house wasn't there anymore daddy told me that the lilac tree still was. I didn't know this until a few years before mommy died in 2001, When I found out  I went down Blair Road to take a look at the Wind Tunnel. I was disappointed because  I  didn't see the lilac tree but it gave me a better sense of where I lived as a two-year-old

Memory is a funny thing. Some things you can’t remember and other things are so vivid it seems like they happened yesterday. I remember that it was a cute little house. I remember the frilly curtains in the kitchen. I remember one time standing on a chair in the living room while mommy fixed the hem on a pretty pink dress she bought me to wear to the birthday party of the little girl who lived next door I think her name was Ann but I'm not sure and she might have had a brother John as well but again I'm not really sure.  

My memory of being lost with Johnny is just two scenes really but they are pretty vivid. 

One scene I remember is that we are surrounded by trees and I'm crying and Johnny is holding my hand and telling me not to worry and that he will look after me. And the second one is a clear picture in my mind of Daddy, and at least one other man, and a truck that had two doors at the back that opened outward. I remember one of the men ( probably daddy) stepping out of the back of the truck.  I don't remember anything after that but mommy and daddy filled me in with some of the details as I grew older and here they are

The day that we two kids got lost. Johnny was three and I was two. We had been playing outside in the backyard for a few minutes while Mommy was making our lunch. Mommy said that she had done this many times before and she didn't worry because daddy had built a fence behind the house that enclosed the yard. But for some reason, on this particular day, we were able to slip away unnoticed while mommy was busy making us each a peanut butter and jam sandwich. Maybe the gate wasn't closed properly or perhaps we crawled under the fence: I'm not sure. I don't know who instigated this escape but I'm thinking it was probably me.

We must have scurried along at record speed because when Mommy came to get us for lunch we were totally out of sight. Mommy said she was never so scared in her life and believes her hair started to turn gray at that moment. She immediately contacted daddy. She feared the worst: that we were taken by some stranger, never to be seen again. I don't know if we had a telephone or if she just ran to tell daddy at work. One of the men daddy worked with had a good size truck and offered to help search for us.

Mommy continued looking for us around the neighborhood while daddy and the other men went down Montreal Road and Blair Road in the truck.

Several hours later they found us in a clearing in the woods off of Blair Rd., down by the Ottawa River. I was crying and Johnny was holding my hand.

I don't remember anything after getting in the truck.

I never thought to ask mommy and daddy if they called the police.

Anyways, mommy said it was the worst day of her life but when daddy came home with us it turned into her happiest one.

Learning to ride a bike

Learning to ride a bike 

 

I learned to ride a bike in 1955. Oddly enough, it wasn’t at home at 10 Isabelle Street in Hull, but during my first summer visit to the farm in Bath. Grandma and grandpa were good friends of Mr. And Mrs. Biss who owned the farm just east of the Maloney farm and on the same side of the road. The Bisses were devout Ukrainian Catholics and attended Sunday mass at the small Catholic Church in Bath: the same Church grandma and grandpa took us to on Sundays. They had their own pew. 
 
We visited the Biss family several times over the years and Johnny and I really enjoyed having another friend to play with. Peter was Johnny’s age and a real nice kid. I think he was an only child. I don’t remember that he had any brothers or sisters. 

The very first time grandma and grandpa and Johnny and I walked over to visit them there was an aroma of freshly baked bread or buns in the air and I said to Johnny “I hope we get some." Johnny smiled. 

 
When we arrived, Peter age was riding his bicycle in the large circular driveway in front of the house. Mrs. Biss greeted us at the door, then introduced us to Peter and suggested we kids play together for a while so she and grandma and grandpa could have a little visit. I don’t remember seeing Mr. Biss that time but I’m thinking he was probably out somewhere because their car wasn’t in the driveway. The driveway was a combination of packed earth and stones and grass. Actually it was quite flat and made a good bike riding area. 
 
After grandma and Mrs. Biss left us to play outside, Peter told us we could ride around the circle on his bike if we wanted to. Johnny had a bike at home and was good at riding it so he enthusiastically took Peter up on the offer and rode around the circle a few times. 
 
Then Peter asked if I would like a turn. I told him I couldn’t ride a bike: that Johnny and daddy had tried to teach me back home on a few occasions but I found it too hard. But Peter’s bike was less scary than Johnny’s. The seat was closer to the ground and there wasn’t a bar under it.  

 
John and Peter, both assured me that I would be safe, so I gave it a try. John always looked out for me. Taking off, with Johnny supporting me on one side and Peter on the other, in no time I was riding by myself. But they both continued to stay close to me in case I had trouble. I didn't though. I was really excited because I thought that it was beyond my capability to ever be able to learn to ride a bike. Johnny was so cute. I remember him telling me that he was really proud of me. I have such good memories of my “big” brother. He was only a year older than me but he was always looking out for me. He was very wise in his ways. Peter was really nice too. He reminded me of Johnny. 
 
We kids took turns riding around the circle until Peter’s mom called us to come inside. She told us to wash our hands and then sit at the kitchen table with grandma and grandpa and her. She gave us each a raisin bun and a glass of milk.  Grandma and grandpa smiled at us. The day was perfect: I couldn’t wait to tell mommy and daddy about it. 

 

Helping Grandma wash clothes

When Johnny and I first started going to the farm, I was eight and he was nine. The visits were twofold: we helped out with chores but it was also a fun holiday in many ways and each year after school was out, we eagerly anticipated the bus trip to Kingston where we were met by one of our uncles. The first summer on the farm, we only stayed a couple of weeks and helped in simple ways like feeding the pigs and collecting the eggs from the chicken coop. I just loved collecting eggs and feeding the pigs. Pig food was called mush. It was a combination of some kind of dry flaky substance poured into the trough and then mixed with water. The pigs loved the mush and I loved watching them eat. They made a lot of noise.

As we became older we stayed longer and helped out in other ways. I would help grandma with chores around the house and Johnny helped grandpa and our uncles in the fields with the hay.

I remember helping grandma do the laundry outside near the pump on at least one occasion. It wasn't as easy as one might think. There weren't just small items of summer clothing like shorts and tops. I'm talking about overalls and shirts that grandpa and my uncles wore when they were working in the fields. We certainly didn't change our clothes every day. We wore them for several days in a row unless you stepped into a cow pie or something like that. But that's a story for another day.

I found this video on youtube. It is so cute I have to share it. This little girl is adorable and she reminds me of our granddaughter Eden.

Washing clothes on the farm was a big job even though it was not as elaborate a procedure as shown in this video. I don't remember all the steps, with the boiling water and the double rinsing etc. I'm thinking maybe grandma skipped some of them.

I know there were two tubs, one for washing and one for rinsing and a bar of soap and the scrub board. Grandma filled the two tubs with water from the pump, using the metal pail that was kept beside it. The water was really cold. I remember grandma heating up some water in a large pot over the wood stove in the kitchen. She then poured the water into the washing tub to take the edge off the frigid temperature. Grandma let me try using the scrub board but the clothes were pretty heavy when they were full of water so my contribution was basically to rinse each item in the rinse water as well as I could and then grandma and I would ring it out; each taking an end and turning the opposite way.

It was a lot of work for grandma. I don't remember if she changed the water at all, but she probably did: I do remember the water getting pretty dirty. I don't know how clean the trousers and shirts etc. were when they came out of the tubs but they were certainly a lot cleaner than when they went in.

After ringing out each item, grandma would hang it on a clothes line strung between two trees over to the left of the house as you were facing it. The wooden clothes pins were already on the line, probably from the previous laundry day.

When the clothes were dry, grandma brought them into the kitchen and I helped her fold them on the kitchen table. They didn't take long to dry with the hot sun and the summer breeze.

I took what belonged to Johnny and me and put them away. We each had a dresser for our clothes. I had my own room but I think Johnny slept in the landing at the top of the stairs.

I only remember helping grandma with the laundry this one time. I don't know what she did in the winter. I vaguely remember a wringer washer in the kitchen so I'm thinking wash tubs outside in the summer / wringer washer in the winter? I don't know.

The Swimming Hole on the farm

July 13, 2019

After dinner on the farm in Bath, Johnny and I usually helped grandma do the dishes and tidy up the kitchen. We also had the small job of filling up the water jug that grandma kept in the fridge and if needed, change the water in the hand washing basin that was on a table just inside the kitchen door on the left hand side as you entered the kitchen. After that we could play outside or watch television in the TV room off of Grandma's bedroom until it was time to pray the rosary.

The pump for the well was on a wooden platform a few feet from the door going into the kitchen.. I remember on one particularly warm evening when grandma asked us to do these little chores we got carried away and decided to have a water fight instead ha ha. We used the stainless steel drinking cups that were near the pump to hurl water at each other. I think we were too loud because a little while later, grandpa came out and told us to put on our bathing suits and grab a towel because uncle Harold and uncle Frank were going to take us to the swimming hole located at the far end of the property. God bless them! A day’s work on the farm is about 12 hours so they both must have been ready to hit the sack. 

We folded the towel that Johnny and I had to share and we sat on it in the back of the pickup truck as we waited to leave. The towel provided a bit of cushioning for the trip which was by way of a narrow dirt road with several twists and turns and lots of bumps. Laundry was a really big chore on the farm so we couldn’t waste towels. 

In a few minutes, we were on our way

I seem to recall that the swimming hole, or water hole or whatever it was called was located in an area surrounded by trees and bushes. For the most part, the route was not too hilly but I do remember Uncle Harold cautiously approaching one hill while honking the horn, in case there was a vehicle coming towards us that we couldn’t see. Johnny and I laughed hysterically as we went down the other side of the hill. It would be a fluke if we met another car on that road because it was their property, but as a precaution, uncle Frank and uncle Harold always honked the horn when approaching a hill.

In those days people often rode in the back of pickup trucks. Nobody thought anything of it. There were no seatbelts anyways. It was kind of like riding in a convertible. We went to Mass on Sunday in the same truck. 

The drive to the water hole was the part of the trip Johnny and I liked the most. When we got there I had second thoughts about cooling off in the same water that the cows were drinking out of. Yes there were two cows beside the water and staring at us as we came through the clearing. The water was really murky; you wouldn’t want to get a mouthful. 

I think our uncles went in for a few minutes:  I can't remember if it was really deep enough for a swim. Johnny put his feet in and I just stayed put. No way was I going in there.

After a short time and before it got dark we headed back to the house. The trip back was fun and going down the hill the other way made Johnny and I laugh again.

By the time we got back it was getting dark..

We all prayed the rosary really fast and went to bed.