A V I E W F R O M C H A R L O T T E T O W N , P R I N C E E D W A R D I S L A N D
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In the late forties we were at the cottage at Inkerman Shore. It seems funny now because it really was at the end of Colonel Gray Drive very much within our present city limits. We use to move from Hillsboro Street [then spelt that way] virtually across town for the summer. Our friends the MacDonald did worse than that; they lived on Ambrose Street and moved out to Inkerman Shore. Whatever there is something special about moving to a cottage and leaving behind the formality and structure of winter life. Anyway that is the life we had and there is rarely a day goes by that I don't think about it in one way or another and be thankful.
Yesterday I was out shopping around noon and the radio was on in the car as usual to CBC. It was the news. They were announcing the loss of a prominent Maritime horseman and radio announcer from St. John. I knew right away who it was going to be and I sat there and cried. Ingham Palmer was one of the boys who would come out to Inkerman to visit we girls almost every night. They were great summers. Our father had borrowed a bell tent from the army and had set it up in the backyard. Sometimes there were ten girls sleeping there a night. Hilda from down the road, Johanna and Libby whoes cottages were on the lane to Lawsons', Daphne who came from Montreal and would stay when she was allowed and my sister Betty and I. Others would stay now and then, but we were the regulars. We laughed a lot.
After dinner the boys and some city girls would come. We'd light fires on the beach, dig clams and cook them, sing, row on the river and swim and in the fall steal corn or apples. What a life. Our mothers never seemed to care where we were or worried about us. We made our own fun and expect when we, the Smiths, had to go to church on Sunday we never wore shoes. My friend Dolly's old saying, "they are picking in our row now" certainly applies to the last few months. Barbara Rupert, Bill Leonard and now Ingham Palmer have gone to another world. I'm sorry we didn't hold more reunions. I'm doing my best. A couple of weeks ago I had Charlie Hine and his wife Barb here for dinner with Ron Atkinson and Gloria, I talked to Phylis Tait on the street today with more intent and tomorrow night Jack McAndrew is coming over and that is good. Blessings to those Inkerman days that brought us all together.
Written Wednesday, June 04, 2003 at 10:51 PM