just off a narrow country road ...

Just off a narrow, dusty, rural road in the Elora countryside is a cairn pictured to the left, which pays homage to the original Scottish settlers, who immigrated in the 1830's to Nichol Township, Wellington County, Ontario and settled on land that they quickly named, Bon Accord, after the sign on the coat of Arms in Aberdeen Scotland, their homeland. This is the the site of the first church in which they worshiped. The history of the Knox Church, Elora says, "There was only a handful of Presbyterian Folk in the settlement - just five men and four women, nine in all. The leaders of this little group were Mr. Alexander Watt and Mr. John Keith," both eventual neighbors of my great great grandparents Thomas and Catherine Gray. "After exploring various sections of Ontario for a spot suitable for settlement, the little community had chosen Bon-Accord. They wanted a land of running streams and especially of one considerable stream and here along the Grand River and along the Irvine River they set up their homes, built their school and founded their Church. The first services were help in the shanty that occupied by Mr. Keith and Mr. Watt on the north bank of the Grand River. This was in the late Fall of 1834." Mr. George Elmslie one of the first group of settler writes in his account," Shortly after, Mr. Gilkinson invited us to his home, where were assembled the villagers and a few of the nearest settlers." Mr. Watt, as office as Clerk of Session, recorded, "A few individuals, having in the Providence of God, left Scotland, their native country, and settled in the Eleventh and Twelfth Concessions of the Township of Nichol in the Province of Upper Canada, feeling deeply the value of Gospel ordinances from their being deprived of them and now completely destitute met and unanimously resolved to used every means that might advance or obtain from time to time a supply of Sermon and a dispensation of sealing ordinances as frequently as possible." The account goes on to say that they had formerly been members of the United Associate Church in Scotland and they petitioned the Missionary Presbytery of Scotland to form a Church and receive a minister, or at least sermons. The meeting of the Presbytery authorizing the formation of the Congregation of Upper Nichol took place on February 8th, 1837. On Thursday, May 18th a small group of people gathered in Mr. Watt's barn and Reverend Thomas Christie, representing the Presbytery of the Canadas, although almost sixty years of age, traveled fifty miles by foot to preach and set apart this congregation as a worshipping unit of the United Associate Church in Scotland. "During the winter and spring of 1838 the congregation was busy erecting their first church on land donated by Mr. George Baron on his farm on the 11th Con. of Nichol. It was built of logs with plaster between the layers and is known as "The Old Log Church," pictured above to the right. The first service in this church was held on Saturday, June 2, 1838. It was a service preparatory to the service on the morrow and was conducted by Rev. Thomas Christie and the record reads. "The session admitted six persons to the membership of the Church - Thomas Gray, Catharine Gray, James Young, Margaret Young, Margaret Rennie, and James Argo, bringing the membership of the Congregation up to fifteen." Yes, Thomas and Catharine Gray, my great, great grandparents, who had immigrated probably in 1837 and Margaret Rennie, Margaret Webster Rennie, wife of Alexander Rennie, my Great, Great Grandmother Jane Rannie/Rennie Lillie's sister-in-law. I doubt they knew each other on the other side of the ocean, but here two sides of my family, both relatively new immigrants to Canada, united in a small congregation and a new log church thousands of miles from their Aberdeen, Scotland homeland. A beautiful, quiet spot off of a narrow dirt road in the same concession Thomas and Catharine Gray built their new home, marks the spot and after many, many searches, over a number of trips to Ontario, I found it. It was a quiet, quiet, peaceful moment and as the picture shows, it was like the sun was casting its rays right on the cairn and the people who worshipped there ... our people! It feels like a sacred spot even now. (Information taken from the booklet, "The History of Knox Church, Elora.")

the same picture that was in Grandma's box

Steve went to high school and played basketball with Ray Goodwin. Ray was and is a gentle giant. He married Sue and as young couples we became good friends. Sue loved genealogy so we shared experiences and stories. Sue and Ray moved to San Diego so he could go to law school and we visited them there when Stephanie and Brett were very young. After law school they moved to Denver, Colorado and we didn't see them very often. One day we got a call that Sue had been killed while on a genealogy trip back east. She had been hit by, I think a flat-bed semi-trailer truck. I have said that I am often alone on these trips and so this particular experience moved me. They had waited a long time for children and now she was gone. Steve couldn't go to Denver so I thought I would drive and while there look for my Great Grandmother Hannah Groat Lillie's sisters, Abigail Groat Fennell (Thomas), Winnifred Groat Whitney (William), Henrietta Groat Riley (Thomas), who had moved directly from Ontario to Denver, and Louisa Groat Knowlton (George) who it appears, had moved to California, before she moved to Colorado. From the census she was the first to immigrate in 1884, the rest in the early 1900's. I had found their names in their mother, Elizabeth Adams Groat's, will. There were ten girls and many, many years later I found a son James, on the records of the Norfolk Church in Guelph. I don't know where he went, but probably he died early, as he wasn't listed in his mother's will. Ten girls are very hard to track, they marry and leave not a trace, and who would have thought that they moved all the way to Colorado, four of them, none the less. One Mary Jane Groat Clos lived and died in Bellingham, Washington. That was another adventure, but this time for my sister-in-law Myrna and I. Well I had small children so I knew I could only be gone a few days. I love to drive and after all I was going with the "Cruiser." I almost need a moment of silence at this point. A ten hour trip is not daunting ... a time to think. I got there late and checked into a motel. The next morning I had a few hours so I headed to the Denver Public Library with the name of one descendant, Carl F. Schumaker, who may possibly be still living. In 1983 I had looked through Denver Directories and Census records and in the 1920 Census was Carl 1 8/12 year old living with his 19 year old mother Olive Shumaker and Thomas and Abigail Fennell (Abigail and Olive are to the right), sixty three and sixty year old. I might have had two hours for my library search and from the moment I entered until I left everything fell in place. Every book, every film gave me information. I never touched a source that didn't provide details of the family. In the Rocky Mountain News I found an obituary for Carl Fred Schumacher, who died at forty-seven of cancer. He was my one lead, or so I had hoped, but in addition to the names of his children and spouse was the name of a sister Mrs. L.W. Herren of Lakewood and a brother William R. Schumacher of Denver. I didn't know where Lakewood was so I went to the phone book to see if I could find William (Bill). Yes, he was there. I dialed his number and yes this was his family, but he told me his sister Frances (Herren) knew more of the family than he did and promptly gave me Fran's number. I called and went to her home and she had stories and pictures of all the family, all the sisters of Hannah and their family. Abigail's son Bob had been the first to come to the United States, first to Arizona because of his asthma, and then to Colorado, when Arizona hadn't brought relief. When Bob was situated, Fran said Abigail left Canada and her husband and brought the children to Denver. The census records indicated they immigrated the same year, 1907. Winney (Winnifred) had died in Pueblo after being institutionalized for female problems, something that would never happen now. I have her medical records. Louisa or Lou had a daughter Jennie (Jennie Adams Knowlton West), who was married briefly to Claude. Fran called her Aunt Bannie. Aunt Etta had a dog who wouldn't bark and a parrot who swore. ... Charlie , Abigail's son, married Ethel May Hill (May) in Canada, but lived for many years in Los Angeles. Fran told me that he was a developer and a builder and one of his daughters married first a man who struck oil and then she married Russell Tracy, Cecil B. DeMille's business manager. The internet says the business manager was John Fisher ... more research to do. When Fran went out there they ate at the Brown Derby and they knew all the stars. Well there were lots of stories. The one of the Lord of the Manor and the young maid I will leave for another post. I love a good story! When we went into Fran's bedroom she had all her family pictures laid out on the bed and amongst them was one picture that was very, very familiar. The same picture that was in my Grandmother Lillie's box (above on the left) and I never knew who they were. On the back of the picture is written, "Dad's cousins Finals." Who were the Finals? I had examined the picture so many times. I had wanted to put names to faces, but I didn't know how I was going to do it. One of the pictures was of Abigail and Olive, another of all the Fennell, not Final, "kids." Fran and I went to the Crown Hill Cemetary where are buried, Abigail and Thomas, Robert , Louisa and Jennie and I am sure others. Henrietta (Etta) not there! It seemed like she was a "wanderer." It took me many years to find Etta. In fact, that piece of the puzzle was solved only in the past two years and after many frustrating hours and years of research. I have now found all of the them ... those Groat "girls" and their children. All the way from Ontario to Colorado. Not one wrong film, not one wrong book, not one wrong phone call in two days. So close to me for so many years and it took the death of a sweet friend to get me there. Fran has since passed away. I haven't been back to Denver, but one trip was worth the drive for so many reasons. These searches may sound obsessive to some. I think it is a wonderful journey and I have met so many wonderful people along the way.

"Someone has to get in the old trunk.."

As a child and even as a young adult I visited my Rahier grandparents in Carlton, Saskatchewan, Canada . They lived in the same house that my grandfather built before they married in 1915. The picture to the right is of Servais building the house. A one room frame farmhouse, to which he later added a bedroom and a kitchen. Grandma always told me he had promised her a big house when they got married. Sometimes my mother took me to the farm and sometimes I went with my Auntie Letty and Uncle Al. One time by brother Len, took us in his brand new car. I thought we were flying over the roads, and the car was definitely cool. I loved going in to the field and down the dirt roads with crickets jumping out in from of me. I sort of loved collecting eggs from the hen house. I loved picking Saskatoons down near the river. I loved going to the store in Carlton with my grandfather where he would buy us crackerjacks. I loved listening to him play his violin. I loved fresh, warm bread baked by Grandma in her coal fired oven. I think Grandpa's favorite meal was bread and milk. I loved living by lamp light, because they never had electric powered lights in the farmhouse. You got up with the sun and went to bed with the sun. I loved my grandmother, Isabella's English flower garden behind her house. I still love flower gardens. I didn't love mice. One ran over my covers one night as I slept on a cot. I didn't love warm milk straight from the cows. I didn't love going down the trail to the outhouse. It smelled as all outhouses do, and I didn't love watching my grandmother chasing the chickens so that she could slaughter them. I know it is the food chain, but I would rather buy my chicken cut up and packaged, or from Costco, already roasted. As a teenager I was bored at the farm, but a few more years and an intense interest in history and the farm took on a whole new meaning. My aunt, "Tots," who died after taking cold on a carriage ride is buried behind the house near a large tree. The cellar was fascinating and after they moved I could see large chunks of light between the rocks that formed the foundation. I can't even imagine a cold northern Saskatchewan winter in that house. My great grandparents, Gilles Joseph Rahier and Christine Guillemine Mathilde Bornkessel Rahier immigrated from Belgium in 1895 and with winter approaching they built a house from cedar poles, with a sod roof. One wing was for the family and one wing housed the animals. It is said that they almost froze that first winter. That first house is pictured above. Shortly after they built a two story frame home.(Pictured on the bottom left next to the first house) I never saw it painted. Both my great grandparents died before I was born, but I loved to climb the wood steps to the upper floor of their house. My great uncle George Rahier and his wife Annie lived next door. I loved going to their house, because they had horses in a big barn. I thought Uncle George's house was amazing! It was so much bigger than my grandparent's house and they had a hand pump in the kitchen. It was always immaculate, and my uncle was very funny. My great grandfather, Gilles was a carpenter and there were an array of tools in the room to the right as your reached the second floor landing of the old house. Old carpentry tools. I have always loved tools! I have an old "clog" that Gilles made for Minnie with those tools. But in the room to the left was an old trunk. I always wanted to see inside. I was always, for as long as I could remember, intrigued with what may be in the trunk. But it seemed like it was something you didn't talk about. A subject you didn't broach. I had the feeling that the home was "sacred," and I always thought as long as Uncle George was living the trunk would remain locked. He once told me that we shouldn't live in the past. I hope I don't, but I love it. I think I honor the past and my ancestors whose lives and hard work shaped my own present. On one of the walls of one of the bottom rooms hung an old faded picture of my grandfather's sister Minnie, the younger. The story seems to be that she was hit in the stomach with a baseball and as a result eventually died in that room. The years past and it was unsafe to climb the stairs. I was still curious. After doing a fair amount of Rahier family research I felt like there could be further information, secrets to be unlocked, inside the trunk. I had told numerous people, including my Rahier cousins, that I hoped they could get in the trunk. I live too far away, but I was hoping it's contents wouldn't be destroyed or lost. Within the past year and a half my uncle George got in the trunk. Letters, written in French, pictures (my grandfather Servais to the left), documents, all under lock and key for so many years. Family treasures, not seen by anyone, at least anyone presently alive. I wish I could have been there for the unveiling. When I read the story, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, I always thought about the trunk. What we think is my grandparent's wedding picture, was in the trunk (above and to the right). Their own children had never seen it before. The house is gone now. Why do houses have to be destroyed? I know it was condemned and family worried that someone may get hurt. My Uncle George and Aunt Annie's house was sold and moved to the reservation. There are still graves in the yard; Gilles and Minnie and Minnie the younger. The Canadian Rahier family history began in that yard. I haven't been there for years, and I don't think I ever really liked Crackerjacks, but I still try to like them because my grandfather, Servais, bought them for me when he took me to town.