From Almonte to Hull to Arnprior — Mr. and Mrs. Orlando Forest Moses — Tales of the Depression Era

October 1930, Almonte Gazette

Orlando F. Moses, of no fixed abode, was sentenced to one month in jail and a fine of $300 and costs of six additional months, after admitting in Hull- police court ownership of a still worth about $500, and also about 20 gallons of liquor.

The accused was arrested on Saturday Morning by Quebec Liquor Commission police, who raided a small house on Mountain road, Wrightville, Hull. Moses served as chief constable of Almonte for about a year about four years ago. Col. R. deSalaberny acted as counsel for Moses, and he asked the clemency of the court, stating that it was a first offence. Henry M. L orranger, who represented the federal excise and Inland Revenue Department, asked that a fine of $500 be imposed considering that the maximum was $2,000. Mr. Loranger also asked that the goods seized be confiscated, also the automobile owned by the accused.

Col. do Salaberry objected to the confiscation of the car, stating that no liquor was found in it. The Magistrate after hearing both counsels sentenced Moses to a $300 fine, and also one month in jail, and ordered the still and other articles confiscated, but added that the car be returned to the owner.

Moses was a former Toronto constable. He had served for more than 12 years in police forces, including Almonte. He served during the Great War and was awarded the Military Cross and also the Croix de Guerre, and also served two years with the Scotland Yard, London.

Moses was last seen on the little bridge opposite the Rosa­mond Stock Farm two months ago and told them he was married and was running a chicken farm near Hull, Que. Moses will be recalled by many different people in town.

During the Depression things were tough for everyone. But, I still can’t believe how a man who worked in authority had his finger in the passions of crime. I guess we will never know.

“When Moses was on the stand during the preliminary hearing he admitted having served prison terms for forgery, extortion and a breach of the Inland Revenue Act. At present he is in custody of the Carleton county police on a charge of house breaking.”

CLIPPED FROM
The Sault Star
Sault St. Marie, Ontario, Canada16 Dec 1931, Wed  •  Page 16

CLIPPED FROM
The Province
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada16 Dec 1931, Wed  •  Page 13

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The Montreal Star
Montreal, Quebec, Canada16 Dec 1931, Wed  •  Page 8

That although Mrs. Moses swore that she had asked Mr. Rudd to come and see about a leak in the ceiling of the bedroom of the apartment, the roof above the place in the ceiling where there had been a leak had been repaired before Mr. and Mrs. Moses became tenants, and had not leaked while they were tenants.” “That Mr. Rudd would not have left his work to go. to the apartment in the center of the town at two o’clock in the afternoon for immoral purposes.” “That on account of his age and physical condition, Mr. Rudd was incapable of committing the crime with which he has been charged. This alone would make it necessary for me to dismiss’ the charge against Mr. Rudd.” “That the offers, first of $200 and then of $1,000 were made by Mr. Rudd and his solicitor, to avoid publicity and not to compound a felony.” “I am further convinced that no Jury would find Mr. Rudd guilty of the lesser offence of attempting to commit an indecent assault.”

CLIPPED FROM
The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada23 Dec 1931, Wed  •  Page 5

Porr Orlando… the year after his father drowned.

CLIPPED FROM
The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada10 May 1932, Tue  •  Page 1

CLIPPED FROM
The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada11 Feb 1953, Wed  •  Page 20

1911 Census

Name:	Orland Forest Moses
Gender:	Male
Age:	36
Birth Year:	abt 1893
Birth Place:	Osgoode Ontario
Marriage Date:	8 Jun 1929
Marriage Place:	London, Middlesex, Ontario, Canada
Father:	James B Moses
Mother:	Pricilla Moses
Spouse:	Marjorie Nelles Colerick

Name:	Orland Forest Moses
Gender:	Male
Age:	36
Birth Year:	abt 1893
Birth Place:	Osgoode Ontario
Marriage Date:	8 Jun 1929
Marriage Place:	London, Middlesex, Ontario, Canada
Father:	James B Moses
Mother:	Pricilla Moses
Spouse:	Marjorie Nelles Colerick

Went to the US for a short stay

Name:	Orland Moses
Gender:	Male
Age:	36
Nationality:	Irish
Birth Date:	abt 1893
Birth Place:	Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
Arrival Date:	6 Aug 1929
Arrival Place:	Detroit, Michigan, USA
Departure Contact:	Wife Marjorie Moses
Spouse:	Marjorie Moses

He remarried

Name:	Forest Orland
Gender:	Male
Marriage Age:	65
Birth Date:	abt 1893
Birth Place:	Carlton County, Ontario
Marriage Date:	22 Aug 1958
Marriage Place:	Whatcom, Washington, USA
Spouse:	Dorothy Eleanor Irons

Death

Name:	Forest Orland
Gender:	Male
Birth Year:	abt 1893
Death Age:	72
Death Date:	9 Jul 1965
Death Location:	Haney
Registration Number:	1965-09-009316
BCA Number:	B13273
GSU Number:	2033797

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The House at Sand Point

The Jinxed House of Crown Point

Ramsay 1927 — The Depression

Remembering Courage Strength and Love- Linda Knight Seccaspina

Linda Knight Seccaspina 1953 Cowansville, Quebec

Remembering Courage Strength and Love- Linda Knight Seccaspina

By the 1930’s 90% of the urban population was dependent on a wage or salary, and most families you knew lived on the edge. Living in the city meant reliance on a male family member with a job to stay alive, and if you lived on the farm you counted on what you grew to feed everyone.

As a child, my Grandmother used to tell me all sorts of stories about the Depression. Each morning she made sandwiches for the hungry people knocking on her door, and her weathered screened verandah sometimes became a shelter for homeless people during rainy nights.  The train station was just a few blocks down from where they lived on South Street in Cowansville, and those that rode the freight trains would get off daily to see if they could find work or food. 

I was always told that we had a hobo mark on our side door, and Grammy Knight would also take in needy families until they got on their feet. Grampy once said that he never knew who would be sitting across from him nightly at the dinner table. Each time my Grandmother asked him to go to the grocery store to get another loaf of bread for someone in need he went without complaining.

One day Grammy hired a young homeless woman named Gladys who worked for her until she died. I was barely eight years old when Gladys passed, but I still remember her like yesterday. Gladys was an odd looking woman who tried to hide her chain smoking habit from my Grandmother. The manly-looking woman would talk up a storm while she cleaned with stories that young ears should have never heard– but I always did.

Gladys would tell me all about her days during the depression as a teenager, where she would hide along the tracks outside the train yards. She would run as fast as she could along the train as it gained speed and grab hold and jump into the open boxcars. Sometimes, she missed, and sometimes she watched some of her friends lose their legs, or their lives, as they jumped off as the train was reaching its destination.

There was nothing left at home for her during those horrible years of the Depression. One Sunday they were without money for the church collection plate and under one of the old rugs they finally found a dime which they proudly placed on the collection plate. 

There were just too many mouths to feed and Gladys knew she wasn’t going anywhere if she remained at home. So she just rode the rails as it was free and she knew she would find food somewhere, which was more than she was going to do at home.  She cut her hair, wore overalls and a cap, and survived life on the road until my Grandmother hired her.

Gladys ended up dying in her sleep in ‘the back room’ of my Grandparents home. After she died, my Grandmother promptly labelled it ‘Gladys’s room’. When I was older and came home on weekends, that very same room was where I slept. You have no idea how many times I thought I saw Gladys in the dark shadows scurrying around with her feather duster, and yes, still chain smoking.

When I was older my Grandparents would make a simple dinner for themselves. My Grandfather would cut up tomatoes, add mayo like a dressing with salt and pepper. While I watched him eat,  I would say, “is that all you’re having !!?? He would reply to me,

“I’m from a time when you looked in the icebox and you put together what was in there and that’s what you had. Remember that “my birdie” … it isn’t always right there for you when you get home . Money was scarce and we had to survive on what we grew in the garden. We learned to use everything and had no waste”.

My Grandparents taught me a lot about life. I never thought I would be my Grandmother, but here I am now. They taught me to count my blessings, not my troubles, and to “show up” for people. Your ancestors that lived through those times were brave and they never judged a book by its cover. You just never know as they say, the things you take for granted might be something others are praying for.

Fred and Mary Knight Cowansville Quebec – Photo from Linda Knight Seccaspina Collection

Do Gopher’s Regrow Tails? Tales of the Depression

Ramsay 1927 — The Depression

345 Franktown Road- Wave’s Inn– photo Lorie Paul
Hi Linda. My name is Lorie Paul. I moved to Carleton Place last October, but have had a family cottage on the lake for over 60 years. My Dad (Kenneth Paul) grew up on Napoleon St. I have this picture of my Dad working at what was a lunch counter at 345 Franktown Road (Wave’s Inn). He would have been around 14 or 15 at the time, so early to mid 1930s.
I have always wondered who the other gentleman in the picture was. Wondering if I should post the picture to see if anyone knows who it is, and perhaps a family member would like to see it as well. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to post in any of the Carleton Place FB pages. My dad is standing on the left in the picture. Thanks so much, and have a great day.

Do Gopher’s Regrow Tails? Tales of the Depression

May 1887 –Almonte Gazette

The municipality of Qu’Appelle offered fifty cents for gophers’ tails. The clerk of the municipality has been kept busy paying out the bounty. Parties who were out shooting lately got quite a number of gophers minus their tails.The explanation now is that the Indians snare the gophers, take the tails off, and let the gopher go so as to grow another tail for next year’s bounty. The untutored children of the prairie gopher of our municipality are in good shape .

In the early history of our province, there were all kinds of gophers, millions of them. The municipalities tried to get rid of them, as they were destroying the crops. So they offered any person one cent for every gopher tail. In the era of the Depression, there were very few students that had any money. So it was a good thing for them to kill gophers. Kill 10 gophers, they made 10 cents, and 10 cents in those days would’ve bought a lot.

So every person who lived through the Depression has killed gophers, drowned them. Their tails are sensitive and are used as feelers when the animals travel backward in their burrows.Amateur biology tried to see if they’d grow another gopher tail and they’d nip off the tail the gopher had and let them free. They would watch out, and see if the gopher would mutate another gopher tail, but they never did. They even split gopher tails to try outdo each other in the municipality.

Edmonton Journal
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
08 Apr 1933, Sat  •  Page 2

Calgary Herald
Calgary, Alberta, Alberta, Canada
13 May 1925, Wed  •  Page 11–

The Bismarck Tribune
Bismarck, North Dakota
21 Oct 1984, Sun  •  Page 45

Related reading

Documenting Carleton Place — George Smith

Sometimes You Just Need to Remember– Reggie Bowden

Don’t Bring Your Guns to Town!

When Otters Attack — in North Elmsley in 1875

The Wolves of Lanark County

1. This Ram was Ten Yards Long Sir and His Horns Reached the SkyDancing With Wolves in Perth

1. Angry Mobs, Wolves and Bloodsuckers –Selby LakeShades of The Godfather in Dr. Preston’s Office in Carleton PlaceIs This Story Just Up a Tree?
2. A Bird Weighing How Much was Found Near Barry’s Bay?

Things I did Not Know About My House

In writing local history I get lots of input which is great… it’s how we get community history together. Yesterday I found out this about my home Springside Hall..

Katherine Edwards I had a old neighbor long passed away by the name of Eric Stead. When I first moved to Carleton Place over 33 years ago the population was 7, 000. He would drive me around and explain some of the history of Carleton Place. During the Great Depression your home was lost to back taxes and was sold for a low $1,000 dollars. I think that was the price.

I have history on the Morphy’s, Crams and the Raeburns that owned the house. But there were two other owners between the Morphys and after the Crams that I cannot seem to find a record of and that is probably the ones that lost the home for back taxes. The Great Depression caused hardship for Americans. In 1932, about 25 percent of the working population did not have jobs. People without jobs lost their homes because they could not pay their debts.

During the 1920s prices reached their highest level in the third quarter of 1929 before falling by 67% at the end of 1932 and hovering around that value for most of the Great Depression. The value of high‐end properties strongly co‐moved with the stock market between 1929 and 1932. A typical property bought in 1920 would have retained only 56% of its initial value in nominal terms two decades later. An investment in the stock market index (including dividends) would have outperformed an investment in a typical property (including net rental income) by a factor of 5.2 over our time period.

This had me laughing all day on Friday and it’s my giggle of the day..🙂 Julie Sadler said to me: Good morning Linda,
Just read that my cousin, William Morphy, built your house and lived there.
I’d like it back now please!
Love you Julie… you made me smile

Springside Hall 1920s Carleton Place

The Burlington Free Press
Burlington, Vermont
30 Aug 1981, Sun  •  Page 51

A Houseful of Whimsy- Springside Hall 1982

Do You have a Hidden Room in Your Home?

What Did Adam Dowdall Find in My Carleton Place Yard?

The Sundial of Springside Hall

Then and Now Springside Hall 1920s-1930s Photos

Reusing the Past of Carleton Place — The Morphy’s and the McCann’s

October 13, 1977 George W. Raeburn of Lake Ave East— Artist and C. P. R. Man

My Neighbours –Photos of the Cliff- McCann House and Springside Hall

Update on the Time Capsule in Springside Hall

The Spirits Are Alive and Well

They Once Lived in My Home– The Cram Children — Margaret — Angeline “Babe” and Arthur

They Once Lived in My Home– Arthur Cram

The Morphy Cram House — Springside Hall

The Hi- Diddle-Day House of Carleton Place – Puppets on a String

Glory Days in Carleton Place– Linda Seccaspina

So Where Does the Water come from Under my House?

The Ghost Lovers of Springside Hall – A True Love Story

Do You have an Archaeological Find in Your Carleton Place Basement?

Feeling Groovy by the Lake Ave East Bridge

October 13, 1977 George W. Raeburn of Lake Ave East— Artist and C. P. R. Man

What if You Had a Fire and No One Came?

Just Another Day in Fawlty Towers — Part 2 — To Hell and Back

Just Another Day in Fawlty Towers

Dumbwaiter Calamities of Crockery

While You Were Sleeping —-The Storyland Bunny Moves to the Hi Diddle Day House

The Case of the Disappearing Back Staircase — Springside Hall — Finlayson Series

The Hidden Dumbwaiter in Springside Hall –Finlayson Series

Did You Ever Watch Two for Joy?

If you are wondering why I am documenting a lot of Mary Cook’s archives it is because she says she doesn’t have a lot of the newspaper archives. I feel it all needs to be documented for future readers to come so that is why I am doing it.

The Ottawa Citizen
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
04 Oct 1992, Sun  •

Having her books turned into a TV series isn’t quite what Carleton Place writer Mary Cook thought it would be. “I thought I’d be there on the set with my own chair, yelling out instructions,” laughs Cook, well-known local broadcaster and author of a series of stories about her Depression-era childhood in Renfrew County.

 

The stories have been pounced upon as the basis of a proposed CTV series, Two For Joy. Actually, Cook has been so far removed from the process of turning her touching, humorous family recollections into prime-time Canadiana that she didn’t know the show’s pilot had been shot until a friend sent her a clipping from the Orangeville Banner. “Television crew turns Alton into movie set,” is the headline over a story that tells how a town of 400 south of Orangeville was dressed up to stand in for the Ottawa Valley.

The clipping was Cook’s first indication the series had gone beyond the script-writing stage, a process in which Cook was only peripherally involved. Then “like a bolt out of the blue,” executive producer Sheldon Wiseman of Ottawa’s Lacewood Productions phoned her last week and asked whether she’d like to see the pilot.

“I expected to hate it,” she admits. “I thought, I can’t sit through this and be sober.” Her fears proved to be unfounded. “It was wonderful. They’ve caught the feeling of the “30s exactly”. “The little girl who they’ve got to play me is a wonderful actress. She’s better than I was.”

There were some disappointments. “I was sorry to see they annihilated two members of my family, but I suppose that was to keep the budget down.” Word is that CTV officials are also quite taken with the project, which is co-produced by Lacewood and Toronto’s John Delmage. Wiseman says the pilot will be'”‘ taken to the international TV market”, in Cannes later this month in search of foreign sales to help with financing.

Should I Have Done that on Television?

A One and a Two Memories with Lawrence Welk

My Favourite TV Shows — Almonte Carleton Place

When The Friendly Giant was King on Televison

Magic Tom –A Suitcase That Was Full of Illusions

Remembering the Littlest Hobo

When The Friendly Giant was King on Televison

In Memory– The Last of The Five Little Peppers

In Memory– The Last of The Five Little Peppers Part 2 — Dorothy Ann “Dottie” Seese

The Hi- Diddle-Day House of Carleton Place – Puppets on a String

Did You Watch Maggie Muggins?

Ramsay 1927 — The Depression

 

 

The Depression raged from 1929-1939—the Ramsay farmers had enough food until help came, but things were tough.

Ross Craig– The Depression was bad enough, we were never hungry but things were tough. We had the farm– it was always something to fall back on.

Bert Young- Depression brought hard times especially with the prices of the farm produce. In 1931 our families income was $397 on which three people had to live. There was no money, but we were never hungry.

Mrs. J McPhail– Money was scarce and we had to survive on what we grew on the land. We learned to use everything and had no waste.

Jack Gleeson– As long has you had your two hands there would always be food on the table.

Mr. and Mrs. Victor Kellough– One Sunday we were without money for the church collection and before we went we searched the entire house from top to bottom for change. Under one of the rugs we found a dime which we proudly placed on the collection plate. It taught us that money was not and is not everything in this world.

Norman Paul– The Depression left a mark on me and everyone else that has gone through it. I now have a saving streak.

 

With files from Ramsay Reflections 1979

By the 1920’s 90 per cent of the urban population was dependent on a wage or salary. Most families lived on the edge, relying on the often irregular employment of a male breadwinner. There was no welfare state to fall back on in tough economic times. A generation earlier, most of the population was rural and relied on their farm work for food and fuel. Living in the city meant reliance on a job to stay alive. To a large extent, the Elizabethan Poor Laws (of 1601) were still in effect in Ottawa. 

 

 

 

Clipped from

1. The Ottawa Journal,
2. 12 Nov 1927, Sat,
3. Page 30 

   Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

   Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

   

    

   The McArton’s of Ramsay

   Sutherland Genealogy– Ramsay Township Looking for GEORGINA

4. Some Cold Hard Facts- First Tailor in Ramsay and a Cow Without a Bell

5. Ramsay Settlers 101

6. What is the Biggest Change in Your Lifetime? Ramsay 1979

Survivor’s Guilt —Set Adrift on a Memory Bliss

 

 

My iPhone is slowly dying. The poor old gal has served me well but she is having a hard time charging now and making noises of desperation. We’ve all been there– and today I tried to dig out any built-up pocket lint in the charging port causing the connection to be blocked.  Let it be known the kids gave me a brand new iPhone 6 that has been sitting upstairs since Christmas, but I can’t seem to use it. I used to laugh at my late husband because he could never give up anything old–even me. He hung on to every little thing, and a lot of those things are still sitting in a storage unit somewhere.

Since my heart attacks emotions have been running high and strong and it’s been a curse to feel and remember things so deeply. For weeks I feel like I have been trying to earn a purple heart thinking about my lifetime of sad Hallmark moments. After sitting on the edge of life a few weeks ago I am inwardly beating myself up again and asking my inner self why I didn’t do things differently. In essence I am still blaming myself.

Some days I sit in the chair outside and ask myself how I am supposed to let go from every little thing that has happened to me? In all honesty there is no easy way to do it, and years of therapy proved that there are no practical or easy steps. Intellectually, I know what’s right– but it’s just not that easy to work through feelings, accept them, and not blame yourself for years gone by. It’s called ‘survivor’s guilt’ and coming so close to death this month makes you wonder if you will ever get rid of this albatross hanging around your neck. There are no easy solutions to this, no matter what anyone says, and taking a toothpick to my emotional port to clean out the lint is not a solution.

Using that new iPhone is scary to me just like life now. Letting go and moving on has a fear factor because of the unknown. Just like death–nothing more, nothing less–we are afraid of giving up the known. Our identity is so wrapped up in our past, because it’s all we know and it’s who we think we are. Now as I go through emotional difficult painful times I try to look at things from a different perspective.

There is always a lesson we must learn from our suffering– but will I finally get it in time? Everything happens for a reason, and unless we learn the lesson, we will continue to suffer.  Adversity is meant to shape us and to develop our capacity for greater things ahead–and for now I am just throwing it back with the rest.

That’s the way it goes I guess, and I will just keep trying to clean out my connection port. Apparently, it has always been an issue with the iPhone 5– and maybe my dock connector just needs some more cleaning.

 

 

 

What Becomes of a Broken Heart?

And Suddenly I Became Sad for NO Reason at All….

I Had a Stroke – I Didn’t Break My Leg!

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

 

And Suddenly I Became Sad for NO Reason at All….

 

They say depression walks hand in hand with a heart attack and since I experienced multiples the black cloud of doom hangs over me this morning. I lay on the bed understanding what it meant when someone told me they wished they had died on the operating table while the loud noise of an outdoor lawnmower blurs my thoughts with the past.

The sound triggered a memory of not being able to stomach the taste of potatoe salad when I was  6 years-old. My Mother sent me to my room with an uneaten plate of the picnic delight and all night long I lay on my bed much like this morning feeling depressed and helpless. While listening to the almost musical score of summer lawnmowers I wondered how I was going to eat that Canadian household staple, and today, I agonized how I was going to get through this. Like the potatoe salad, what caused this mess has not gone away, and I have had to deal with it, and it still remains in a constant place in my mind.

They say “Depression is 3 times more common in patients after a heart attack than in the general population, with 15% to 20% of heart attack victims qualifying for a diagnosis of major depressive disorder, and a far greater proportion experiencing increased levels of depressive symptoms”. That’s an official quote, I didn’t make that up, and I know people don’t understand that just like my Mother not comprehending why I couldn’t put another mouthful of that salad in my mouth.

Laying on that bed on a summer night in the 50s unleashed intense waves of emotion like today. If you’re battling depression and heart disease at the same time, you and your heart will need all of the strength you can get. I never did eat that plate of potatoe salad, and for the next few years she was alive Bernice Ethylene Crittenden Knight constantly reminded me of the incident, just like I am reminded daily what happened to me a week ago.

Like the drone of lawnmowers life goes on and you are as good as whatever you did last. I say “sorry” even more these past few days because I feel everything is my fault.  Some ask if I am okay and I feel what they really mean is: “are you over it yet?” so you can resume normal daily occurrences. My lips say “fine” as I don’t want to deal with further conversation, but my soul is still weeping. I guess I want someone to look me in the eye and say “no, you are not okay” as I am exhausted from trying to feel stronger than I feel.

I try to evaluate that depression is not a sign of weakness–it just means you have been strong far too long. Faking a smile even to your Mother is so much easier than explaining why you are sad, what caused all this, and how broken I feel right now. I hate this feeling that I can’t control what happens to me and it’s like I’m here, but I’m not, and that I belong somewhere else–anywhere, but here.

I should have tried harder I tell myself in both situations and it’s okay to cry as today even the sky is crying. Maybe I am too complicated and expect too much from myself–yet today I feel like such a disappointment like I was to my Mother that evening.

Stars can’t shine without darkness and I’ve had to fight like hell in my life, and fighting like hell has made me what I am. But–it never prepared me for this, and today I feel I have more scars than friends. Sometimes even to live is an act of courage but we have to remember we are worth more than our darkness. As Confucius says:” Our greatest glory is not in ever failing but in rising every time we fail.”

Instead of wiping away the tears, I need to wipe away the people that made me cry and just stop being heart broken. Recovery is a process and it takes time, patience, and everything you’ve got. I will try again tomorrow after my dark cloud passes and learn to dance again in the rain. Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never ever danced in the rain and after all..

 “Everybody cries
And everybody hurts sometimes”

 

 

 

If you think you or a loved one may be suffering from depression, seek help right away from a family doctor or a mental health specialist. You may also want to join a support group for heart attack survivors, such as Mended Hearts, which is sponsored by the American Heart Association.

• frequent feelings of sadness or emptiness
• loss of interest in pleasurable activities
• strange eating or sleeping patterns
• excessive crying
• thoughts of suicide and death
• fatigue
• difficulty concentrating or remembering
• feelings of worthlessness or helplessness
• irritability
• unexplained aches and pains that don’t respond to treatment

 

 

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

What Becomes of a Broken Heart?

 

We Need a Railroad says Ramsayville

Old Time Trains Photo

 

January 11, 1888 Almonte Gazette

The village of *Ramsayville, during the closing months of the year 1852, was perhaps in a more depressed condition than at any time during its previous history. The loss of capital sustained by the burning of the woolen factory and grist mill, at that time its two moat important industries, arrested all progress and prosperity, and hope had in a measure disappeared, and gloomy disappointment broods over the future.

 

But it frequently happens to nations and towns that the darkest hours of depression precede the DAWN OF PROSPERITY, And such was the experience of the village, for soon a rift appeared in the dark cloud, and the light of an unlooked-for prosperity began to shine and hope sprang up from an unexpected quarter. On the 10th of November that year Parliament passed and the GovernorGeneral assented to the Bill entitled “The Consolidated Loan Fond Act,” for Upper Canada, the provisions of which empowered municipal corporations to borrow money from the fund for specified improvements either within or without their boundaries, to be expended for the I good of the inhabitants. |

The need of a good road from Smith’s Falls to Carleton Place and Ramsayville had long been felt by all business men and farmers along the route, but the money to make such a road was not forthcoming. However, the passing of the Loan Fund Act OPENED U P A PROSPECT Of obtaining the needed funds for that purpose, and Messrs. Wylie, Bell and Shaw announced that a meeting would be held at Franktown for the purpose of organizing a company to build a macadamized road through the townships of Montague, Beckwith and Ramsay.

 

 

 

 

*First named Shepperd’s Falls and Shipman’s Mills, the town of Almonte, until its industrial growth which started in the eighteen fifties, was a small village which gained the name of Ramsayville.

Then, with the opening of its first woollen mills and  railway transportation, it grew in a period of about thirty years to take a place among the leading centres of the pioneering days of Canadian manufacture of woollen textiles.

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and Screamin’ Mamas (USA)

 

Covered From Head to Toe with “The Beautiful” !! Almonte Train Station

One Night in Almonte or Was it Carleton Place?

Suicide – The Failsafe?

The Brett Pearson Run for Your Life

Bringing suicide and mental illness out of the shadows and into the light.

 

 

 

 

All photos by Linda Seccaspina

 

In my dream I awake with tears in my eyes and remember the day that was going to be the last day of my life. I dressed slowly that morning as I glanced around at my surroundings and knew they could suddenly be a thing of the past. I had made up my mind, ran down the stairs and jumped on the bus to my destination. As I sat on the subway I closed my eyes as I went through the 6 minutes of darkness while the train went through the tube under the bay. It was almost like the dark before the storm and my fingers grasped the edge of the seat knowing there was no turning back.

I took the bus to the shore and watched the waves come in one by one. They were dark angry waves, and I walked towards them inviting them to take me away to sea. The edge of the waves tickled the tips of my shoes and beckoned me to walk further into the bay. I knew if I followed their dark directions I would be immersed in a riptide of  cold water with no chance to correct my mistake.

 

Instead I sat on a bench and wondered if I was going to suffer much when I carried out my mental ambition. I looked to the bridge and the fog still  hung like Christmas stockings on the edges of the gray metal. Maybe if the bridge was merciful that same fog would carry me down softly to the depths below and simply ease me down slowly into final peace.

I knew once I jumped it was going to be like hitting a concrete wall, and if I was lucky it would take me less than five minutes to drown in the cold water where the bay met the sea. If I made a mistake and jumped feet first I might survive and live in pain for the rest of my life. Did I want that? Was it not like what I was going through in real life?

 

For weeks I had thought of the bridge jumpers and mentally replayed them, fascinated that the end could be so near. As I walked along the narrow road to the bridge my fear suddenly disappeared.  I had walked its length once before and knew that in 4 seconds I could be flying towards what I considered final freedom of my mind.

Death might take seconds as my body would plunge deep into the salty water where no angels would be rescuing me just yet. It would not be a pretty death, and suddenly a silly thought of fish dining on my mortal remains scared me. Years of not being afraid to attempt the almost terminal extension of life had now been thwarted by the fear of fish.
In the years that passed I knew the bridge would always be there to beckon those who had given up. The clouds of pills and mental pain would remain for years until I realized life was not a mistake. Why?

Because we need to remember that we have all come too far to fail. Pass it on!

This piece in a longer form was published on many American suicide prevention sites. Depression is like war– you either win or die trying.

 

 

 

Suicide is when someone tries to end his or her life on purpose. People think about suicide in an attempt to deal with some problem or stress. Most people who attempt or complete suicide don’t necessarily want to die; rather, they want to escape their overwhelming emotional pain.Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. The good news is that there are always other options.

 

If you are thinking about suicide, and things have reached a crisis point where you don’t think you can keep yourself safe:  

• Call a crisis line

• If you have a doctor, then make an appointment to see him/her.
• Call your local mental health agency in order to see a counselor/therapist 
• Reach out to a family member or friend. Call them and let them know that you have been feeling overwhelmed, and that you could use their support, whether it is just listening or spending some time together.
• Go to the nearest hospital emergency department.

Remember: Although your situation may have tricked you into feeling that you are alone, you are NOT alone. Help is a phone call away…

 

If you know know someone who is feeling suicidal, there are many ways to support and get them help

• Help your friend make that telephone call to a crisis line
• Help your friend book an appointment with their doctor, or counselor/therapist
• Go with your friend to the nearest hospital emergency department 
• Let other trusted friends and family know so that they can be supportive.

If you discover someone who has just harmed themselves, then call 911, or your local Emergency Medical Services (EMS) number.