Tag Archives: fiction

The Faeries of McArthur Island- Dedicated to the Bagg Children

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The Faeries of  McArthur Island- Dedicated to the Bagg Children

 

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Photo Linda Seccaspina

 

Louise and her Grandmother were in their sitting room gazing at the rushing river outside wondering what they were going to eat for dinner. They silently worried what would become of them, as the cupboard was as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s. Louise told her Grandmother that she would fill up the kettle and make her some tea. In the meantime she would make a wish that the faeries might come and bring them something to eat.

“Make the tea” her Grandmother said, “but do not depend on the faeries to help you as there is no such thing as faeries”. Louise was positive there was such a thing as faeries, but she dared not argue with her Grandmother, and took her pail and went into the woods on the other side of the Mississippi River. As she dropped her pail into the well  she heard a voice after she drew up the water.

“Drop it again and see what happens” said the fairy sitting on the side of the well. Louise smiled at the tiny figure, but told her she did not need anymore water.

“But you do need bread,” replied the fairy who insisted she drop the pail into the well once more.

Lousie did as she was told, and when she brought up the pail there was a large loaf of bread and a piece of cheese in the bucket. She thanked the fairy and told her that she knew the faeries would help her. She ran across the bridge, back to the house, and set the table. Louise told her Grandmother that the faeries in the McArthur Island woods helped her but, the Grandmother still did not believe her even when she brought home a strip of bacon and more bread the next morning from the well in the woods.

 

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The next morning the landlord told them that they must leave as he could not afford to have renters that did not pay and Louise and her Grandmother went to sit next to the well on the island. The Grandmother told Louise that if her faeries were real they would give them a comfortable home to live in. Like magic a small cottage appeared and the fairy told Louise that surely the Grandmother must believe in them now.

The Grandmother nodded her head and agreed that no one should ever give up on faeries as she had done. Always remember that through faeries a child’s imagination is stimulated, and sometimes good deeds will come from it if you really believe.

I wrote this small fictional tale because of something Kelly Bagg told me at her father’s wake. She told me how her late father Bill Bagg used to tell his children that there were faeries in the woods of McArthur Island. Sometimes in the afternoon, or after dinner, he would take his children over to the island so they could look for faeries.

Faeries are invisible and inaudible like angels, but their magic sparkles in nature. Bill Bagg remembered the words of Robert Louis Stevenson that:  “every child must remember laying his head in the grass staring into the infinitesimal forest and watch it grow populous with faeries”.

Now each time I drive over the back bridge I remember Kelly’s tale and I stop and look for faeries. So to whomever develops this land in the future I beg you, please leave room in the woods so the faeries can dance.
And so they linked their hands and danced
Round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends
When all the shades are gone

 

 

 

 

Stories about Bill Bagg

 

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The Curious World of Bill Bagg –The Deer Heads

The Man that Brought “Canada” Back to Carleton Place – Bill Bagg

Come on, Let’s Go Down in the River –Photo Memories

One of Us– Memories of Bill Bagg

Before and After with Bill Bagg and the Mississippi Gorge

 

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.

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I have been writing about downtown Carleton Place Bridge Street for months and this is something I really want to do. Come join me in the Domino’s Parking lot- corner Lake Ave and Bridge, Carleton Place at 11 am Saturday September 16 (rain date September 17) for a free walkabout of Bridge Street. It’s history is way more than just stores. This walkabout is FREE BUT I will be carrying a pouch for donations to the Carleton Place Hospital as they have been so good to me. I don’t know if I will ever do another walking tour so come join me on something that has been on my bucket list since I began writing about Bridge Street. It’s always a good time–trust me.

Are You Ready to Visit the Open Doors?

 

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The Ghost Ship of Brown’s Hill

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David Hosking put this photo up on the People from the Eastern Townships Facebook page yesterday and I had to do something with it. His caption was:

“It’s not well known, but this ship is situated between Fitch Bay and Ayers Cliff, Quebec. Not far from Brown’s Hill. There was a bit of a drought when the photo was taken”.

So anyone that knows me knows I enjoy a challenge– so here is my fictional story I wrote about this fictitious lost ship in the photo.

 

                                                The Ghost Ship of Brown’s Hill

Captain Ebenezer Hovey was a native of Connecticut, and was one of the earliest pioneers of the settlement of Hatley, Quebec. The freewill Baptist sustained the office of Captain of Militia for many years, and was actively employed in public affairs. In March of 1794 he set out for Magog with an ox team carrying his wife and eight children, bedding, and provisions searching for their new home.

They went by way of Missiquoi Bay and it took seven days to get through the woods from Freighlisburg to Lake/Lac Memphremagog. The snow was deep and the women and children suffered from the cold and fatigue. Captain Hovey ended up discovering Massawippi Lake with a party of explorers and they camped out on the east side of the outlet near the point of its issue from the lake.

In Stanstead county-there are miles and miles of breathtaking countryside, and the view is said to be spectacular–whether along the banks of the Niger River, or up on the heights of Brown’s Hill.  Not only are there anecdotes and historical notes about the area’s hidden corners, landmarks, and first settlers, there is one story however that some seldom discuss.

Captain Hovey may have died on the 24th of April 1836 in Stanstead County at the age of 83, but his legend lives on years later. It has been said that one of Hovey’s son’s (Horace) later descendants gave life to a  story about a ghost ship that sat not far from Brown’s Hill.

Hovey had kept the ship in a undisclosed area in a Lake/Lac Memphremagog cove.  No one knows how that ship remained hidden from prying eyes, and little has been said about the skeleton of a ship that some say still rests somewhere between Fitch Bay and Ayer’s Cliff.

Generations of locals have heard the stories about the ship that tried to make it through the rain, forest and humidity of one Quebec summer. Folks say that a steel cable towing the ship ruptured because the tension and pressure had gotten so incredibly high that the pressure inside the cable became incandescent. Inside the enormous pulley system hauling the ship the cables continued to heat up, and they had to down the cables with buckets of water. This is something they didn’t expect, but they had to do it.

The ship was from a former expedition and 129 men had tragically vanished. The mystery surrounding the failed expedition haunted historians and explorers alike. There was no definite answer to the reason of their deaths: some of the evidence suggests that they died of pneumonia, while other clearly indicated it was from lead and food poisoning.

They say there were cut marks on human bones that were interpreted as signs of cannibalism. No one has been able to put all the puzzles of this tragedy together, yet a descendant of Captain Ebenezer Hovey and his son Horace was determined to get this ship to Brown’s Hill for its final resting ground.

Moving through endlessly rolling valleys, receding to a distant range of mountains and sky, Brown’s Hill was the final goal. To say the ship was being moved by ‘engineering’ down Brown’s Road is a little bit far fetched. They had 800 lumbermen and Caterpillar drivers moving multiple winch systems, and they were very disciplined, had a good rapport, and all worked professionally.

The ship was completely battered at this point, and it was headed to a river near Brown’s Hill.  The journey became very precarious and the ghost of Captain Hovey  was there in the upper right hand part of the ship’s deck leading the procession. It wasn’t natural to move that ship to Brown’s Hill and they were imposing themselves against the laws of nature.

You didn’t need that much force going down the undulating gravel road–it was more of finding a delicate balance. If they pushed the ship too much, it was going to slide and all hell would break loose. They knew it would go down like an avalanche–that was the major complication in all of this.

When they finally found the river, they had to take a six-month hiatus, because the river was only a trickle of water due to a dry season. They left the boat at the top of a hill and hired a large family to live on the ship until they were ready to move again. Fighting the vines and the rust was the least of it, as they had to protect it from being disassembled  by the locals for the iron and the wood.

The ship stayed at the peak of a hill overhanging ominous skies closing up a tiny opening in-between the vista. What was awaiting this curious ship if the river finally regained its strength?  It was never to be discovered, and the photo sent in by David Hosking is the only photo in existence of Horace Hovey’s ghost ship.

They said you could only shoot that photo once—there were no second takes. There was only one chance to do it, and understand just what the camera saw. Some say the ghost ship vanished-never to be seen again.

But if you look closely on a clear day on top of Brown’s Hill–you’ll feel part of every mountain sea and shore. You can hear from far and near–a world you’ve never, never seen before-the ghost ship of Horace Hovey.

 

 

Related reading:

Linda’s Dreadful Dark Tales – Minecraft Story of the Lake Memphremagog Monster

 

historicalnotes

The story of Captain Ebenezer Hovey is true-the boat not so much:)

Old North Church Cemetery
Hatley
Estrie Region
Quebec, Canada

 

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Brown’s Hill Cemetery-click here By Leslie Nutbrown ( don;t know if she is related to my Nutbrown family connection in Sherbrooke- but this is one #superhistoricalwoman

Directions to the cemetery:

Browns Hill Cemetery is on top of the hill overlooking Ayer’s Cliff,probably less than 5 minutes away. From the town of Ayer’s Cliff, head west on Main Street (Rte 141). At the edge of town before you get to Lake Massawippi, take Dustin Road (on your left) and stay on this road for a couple of kilometers until you reach Brown’s Hill Road.  Turn right and go up over the hill past a couple of farms. Be watching as you come over the hill as the cemetery is on the left side of the road.

This is one of the oldest Stanstead County burial grounds, with stones dating from 1803. Many of the earliest settlers came here from Vermont and New Hampshire and Massachusetts. Some stones are difficult to read and some stones are sunk in the ground.  There are  numerous unmarked graves as evidenced from church records. (Indicated by CR) in the listing.

The cemetery is maintained by the Brown’s Hill Cemetery Corporation, made up of Dustin descendants. If you have relatives interred here or you are interested in helping to maintain this cemetery, please let me know.

I visit this cemetery frequently and have photographs of all monuments.  

Leslie Nutbrown   [lnutbrown@bell.net]

Total records = 187

Legend: CR= church record

Last updated: October 29, 2016

??, ??, d. 4 Feb 1894, aged 70y 8m 4d, top of stone missing,”Gone to her rest”
??, Homer B., d. 12 Mar 1846, aged 6m 5d, son of John A. & P
Ayer, Gardner M., b. 16 Oct 1808, d. 10 Dec 1879
Ayer, Louisa; d. 19 Jul 1840, aged 26 yrs, wife of Ira Wright
Ayer, Mary; d. 15 Feb 1853, wife of William Ayer
Ayer, Matilda; d. 11 Apr 1843, aged 32 yrs, wife of Gardner Ayer
Ayer, Miranda; d. 9 Aug 1837, aged 35 yrs, wife of Noah Glidden
Ayer, Myrtie L.; b. 13 Aug 1867, d. 13 May 1876
Ayer, Osgood; d. 10 Sep 1883
Ayer, Thomas; d. 8 May 1842, aged 68 yrs
Ayer, Wildar; d. 1 Jan 1851, aged 32 yrs, husband of Sylvia Wright
Ayer, William A., d. 10 Jan 1858, aged 81y 1m
Ayer, William L.; b. 7 Apr 1837, d. 28 Aug 1873
Bachelder, Sophia;  no headstone
Brown, ?, d. March 1821, aged ? Months 15 days
Brown, Abigail K., d. 30 Aug 1863, aged 45y 3m, wife of John Q. Brown
Brown, Abigail; d. 23 Jul 1850, aged ?y 6 d 4m
Brown, Alfred W., b. 9 Sep 1883, d. 7 Feb 1911, husband of Evelyn Rexford
Brown, Alvira;  no headstone
Brown, Ann; d. 2 Aug 18?5, daughter of Sherburn & Hannah
Brown, Ann; d. 30 Sep 1835, daughter of Theo & Polly
Brown, Asa W., b. 20 Sep 1833, d. 21 Jan 1918
Brown, Carroll; infant twin son of Charles & Ida
Brown, Catherine; d, 17 Jul 1825, aged 40 yrs, wife of Sherburn Brown
Brown, Charles A., b. 14 Oct 1888, d. 2 Aug 1950
Brown, Charles Robie; b. 1859, d. 1948, husband of Ida May Reed
Brown, Elizabeth Ann; b. 1847, d. 1929, wife of William M. Clark
Brown, Ella G., d. 7 Sep 1879, aged 19y 6m 6d, wife of Charles H. Towle
Brown, F. Pearl; b. 1888, d. 1975, wife of Gordon Temple
Brown, Florence H., d. 26 Aug 1889, aged 33y 8m, wife of C.A. Brown
Brown, Hannah Matilda; d. 6 Apr 1875, aged 39 yrs
Brown, Harold, infant twin son of Charles & Ida
Brown, James; d. 23 May 1808, son of Theo & Polly
Brown, John;  s/w Mehitable Brown
Brown, Josiah G., d. 25 Aug 1847, aged 2y 6m, son of J.Q. & A. Brown
Brown, Julia Ann; d. 21 Oct 1852, aged 51y 1m 10d, daughter of John Q. & Abigail
Brown, Louisa; d. 12 Jan, daughter of Sherburn
Brown, Mehitable; d. 11 Dec 1829, aged 19 yrs
Brown, Mehitable;  s/w John Brown
Brown, Minnie A., no dates, daughter of E..D. & M.J.
Brown, Nancy A., b. 24 Jan 1845, d. 26 Sep 1915, widow of William L. Ayer & wife of E.R. Webster
Brown, Nancy; d. 9 Mar 1837, age 57y 3m 14d, wife of Amos Shirtliff
Brown, Nelson;  no headstone
Brown, Ozro Harvey; b. 16 Jul 1887, d. 20 May 1957, husband of Ethel Vaughan
Brown, Robie G., b. 1883, d. 1897
Brown, Robie, d. 11 Jan 1862
Brown, Robie; b. 22 Mar 1808, d. 22 Oct 1903, husband of Flavilla Hopkins
Brown, Sanborn;
Brown, Sarah A., b. 12 Aug 1830, d. 25 Feb 1917, wife of Harvey Libby
Brown, Sarah L., d. 9 Jul 1891, aged 45 yrs, wife of Edward Hill
Brown, Sarah; d. 1861, wife of Eleazer Clark
Brown, Sewall; d. 1 Aug 1888, son of Sherburn & Susan
Brown, Sherburn S., d. 17 Apr 1892, aged 88 yrs
Brown, Sherburn; husband of Catherine
Brown, Susan;
Brown, Theophilus;
Brown, Velma I., d. 19 Mar 1937, aged 86 yrs, wife of L. P. Adams Jr.
Brown, Wilder; b. 2 Apr 1832, d. 27 Nov 1911, husband of Sula Smith
Burdett, Fannie A., d. 6 Feb 1897, aged 24y 5m, wife of Fred E. Wells
Buzzell, Homer;  no headstone
Buzzell, John;  no headstone
Clark, Charlotte; d. 19 Jul 1854, agedd 63y 6m, 3rd wife of Jonathan Dustin
Clark, Eleazer; d. 1830, husband of Sarah Brown
Clark, Gordon B., b. 7 Nov 1875, d. 22 Nov 1948
Clark, Nathaniel; d. 26 Nov 1849, aged 42 yrs
Clark, Osborn; b. 15 Feb 1820, d. 5 Nov 1893
Clark, Sewell; b. 8 Jan 1805, d. 3 May 1886, husband of Harriet Dresser
Clark, William M., b. 22 Jul 1848, d. 12 Jan 1896, husband of Elizabeth Ann Brown
Coburn, Alexander; d. 1 Jun 1877, aged 82y 6m, husband of Ruhamah Parker
Cole, Alvin; d. 13 May 1846, aged 27y 9m
Cole, Asa Wellman; d. 26 Sep 1830, aged 1m 18d, son of Asa & Lovisa
Cole, Asa; d. 26 Jan 1833, aged 42 yrs
Cole, Maranda E., d. 9 Sep 1852, aged 21y 1m 15d
Cole, Thomas; d. 9 Apr 1836, aged 49y 20d
Coulombe, Pierre; 1948-2016, époux de Louise Hurtubise
Cox, Jennie, d. 30 May 1887, aged 18y 11m, wife of H. H. Getty
Cox, Joseph;  no headstone
Cox, Oliver; d. 10 May, 1921, no headstone
Coxen, Statira; d. 2 Nov 1851, aged 57 yrs, wife of Joseph
Davis, Artemus; d. 17 Mar 1881, aged 76y 9m
Davis, Augusta M., d. 2 Feb 1904, aged 53 yrs, wife of V.W. Eaton
Davis, Mattie Wade; d. 31 May 1912, no headstone
Davis, Rozina; b. 27 Jun 1821, d. 19 Jul 1903, wife of Gardner Ayer
Davis, Sabrina; d. 27 Mar 1863, wife of Artemus
Davis, Walter;
Dodge, Lovisa; wife of  Asa Cole
Dresser, Harriet; b. 2 Sep 1818, d. 29 Sep 1896, wife of Sewell Clark
Dunn, Frederick; b. 1857, d. 1940, husband of Melvina Huckins
Dustin, Florinda; d. 28 Jan 1901, aged 68 yrs, wife of Rodney Towle (no stone)
Dustin, Hannah; d. 13 Dec 1855, aged 49 yrs, wife of Sherburn Brown
Dustin, Jonathan; d. 1 Oct 1848, aged 80y 9m, husband of Charlotte Clark
Dustin, Lizzie M., d. 4 Jul 1878, daughter of William S. & Mary B. Dustin
Dustin, Ozro; b. 1864, d. 1955, husband of Nettie Hartwell
Dustin, William S., d. 6 Aug 1896, aged 75y 8m, husband of Mary Bullock Dyer
Dyer, Mary Bullock; b. 1826, d. 1905, wife of William Sargent Dustin
Dyer, Mehetabel P., d. 7 Nov 1871, aged 46y 6m, sister of Mary B. Dyer
Eaton, Augusta J., d. 2 May 1871, aged 21y 8m, wife of Howard K. Wells
Eaton, Rosetta L., d. 1865, daughter of of V.W. & M.
Eaton, V. W., b. 1821, d. 1914
Gladden, Mary O., d. 17 Oct 1881, daughter of W.H. & A.
Glidden, Noah; d. 12 Feb 1873, aged 76 yrs, husband of Miranda Ayer
Glidden, Orpha; wife of Winthrop Fox
Hartwell, Nettie; b. 1877, d. 1903, wife of Ozro Dustin
Heath, Gilman; b. 1794, d. 1873, husband of Lydia Lovering
Heath, Philip; d. 9 Dec 1836, aged 30 yrs
Heath, Ruth A., d. 26 Jan 1858, aged 30y 9m, wife of Marshall Lincoln
Hopkins, Flavilla S., b. 18 May 1818, d. 19 Aug 1903, wife of Robie Brown
House, James; d. 22 Nov 1853, aged 39 yrs
Hovey, Mary A., b. 1818, d. 1897, wife of J.B. Shirtliff
Huckins, Melvina; b. 1852, d. 1934, wife of Frederick Dunn
Jewell, Albert H., b. 3 Apr 1820 in Tamworth, NH, d. 14 Jun 1901, husband of Mary Morse, (no stone)
Lee, Almira E., d. 11 Aug 1870, agedd 27 yrs, wife of William M. Lee
Libby, Edwin;  d. 30 Aug 1865, infant son of Harvey & Sarah, (no stone)
Libby, Erwin H., d. 18 Oct 1865, infant son of Hervey & Sarah, (no stone)
Libby, Harvey H., b. 5 Jun 1834, d. 9 May 1908, husband of Sarah A. Brown
Libby, Katie;  no headstone
Litch, Hannah; d. 29 Dec 1867, aged 81 yrs, wife of Bracket Towle
Locke, Peter; b. 14 Apr 1800, d. 2 Apr 1862
Lovering, Lydia; b. 1795, d. 3 Mar 1862, aged 66y 11m, wife of Gilman Heath
McPherson, Betsey;
McPherson; Elsie,  no headstone
Morrill, Abigail C., b. 12 May 1824, d. 28 Sep 1910, wife of Osborn Clark
Morse, Mary; d. 14 Jun 1896, aged 82 yrs, wife of Albert Jewell (no stone)
Moulton, Mary, d. 31 Jan 1870, wife of John B. Towle, mother of Mary Achsah Towle Thurston
Moulton, Ora H.,  daughter of F. A. & H. G.
Nevers, Alexander;  no headstone
Nevers, Elsie; d. 28 Dec 1863, aged 19 yrs, daughter of Alex & Elsie
Nevers, George S., d. 23 Aug 1866, aged 19y 23d, son of Alex and Elsie
Nevers, Harriet;  no stone
Nevers, Mary;
Nevers, William;  no stone
Norton, Nehemiah R., d. 4 Apr 1849, aged 2yrs, son of Joseph & Mary
Norton, Sarah A., d. 26 Mar 1903, aged 75 yrs, wife of Johnathan Towle
Parker, Ruhamah; d. 19 Jun 1885, aged 68 yrs, wife of Alexander Coburn
Pool, Achsah B., d. 6 Jul 1866, wife of John B. Towle
Reed, Ida May; b. 1861, d. 1940, wife of Charles Robie Brown
Rexford, Evelyn; b. 29 Apr 1882, d. 29 Jul 1978, wife of Alfred Brown
Richerson, Sylvia; d. 23 Dec 1891, aged 82 yrs, wife of Sherburn Brown
Rider, Elizabeth; d. 10 Apr 1911, aged 67 yrs
Roby, Priscilla; stone sunken
Ruiter, Katherine Brown; b. 4 Apr 1874, d. 19 Nov 1943
Sharon, Verna; b. 1881, d. 1972, wife of Briggs Waite
Sherman, Elizabeth; b. 2 Mar 1755 Woodbury, Conn., d. 2 Dec 1835, wife of Simeon Cole
Shirtliff, Amos; d. 3 Mar 1837, aged 62y 1m 12d
Shirtliff, Flavilla; d. 11 Nov 1815, aged 1y 4m 14d
Shirtliff, J.B., d. 3 Oct 1888, aged 81y 2m 25d, husband of Mary Hovey
Shirtliff, John; d. 30 Jul 1815, aged 4y 4m
Shirtliff, Lathrop; d. 23 Feb 1842, aged 37y 7m 1d
Shirtliff, Sanborn; d. 7 Dec 1803, aged 1y 3m 8d
Small, Isaac; d. 28 Oct 1892, aged 91y 7m
Smith, Sula A., b. 27 Feb 1840, d. 2 May 1916, wife of Wilder Brown
St. Marie, Harry; no headstone
St. Marie, Robie G., 1883-1897
Temple, Gordon L., b. 1888, d. 1966, husband of F. Pearl Brown
Towle, Ada F.,  no stone
Towle, Anthony; d. 19 Apr 1843, aged 59 yrs
Towle, Bracket; d. 2 Feb 1851
Towle, Charles Henry; d. 5 May 1932 (no stone)
Towle, Dustin Ai; b. 18 Jan 1865, d. 20 Aug 1866, son of Rodney & Florinda (no stone)
Towle, Ernest Alfred; d. 1 Mar 1909, aged 39 yrs, (no stone)
Towle, Fred; no stone
Towle, Hannah;  daughter of Anthony & Priscilla
Towle, John B., d. 6 Jan 1883, aged 62y 8m
Towle, Johnathan; d. 10 Feb 1881, aged 65y 11m 5d husband of Sarah Norton
Towle, Lyman E., b. 24 Nov 1854, d. 6 Jul 1913
Towle, Mary; d. 29 Jan 1844, daughter of Bracket & Hannah
Towle, Mehitable N., d. 13 Oct 1888, aged 71 yrs, wife of Henry
Towle, Rodney; d. 13 Apr 1898, aged 69 yrs, husband of Florinda Dustin (no stone)
Tryon, Emily Caroline; b. 1 Jul 1826, d. 9 May 1912, wife of Enoch Wait
Varnum, James; d. 1 Nov 1897, aged 82 yrs
Varnum, Mary; d. 16 Sep 1847, aged 63 yrs, wife of Theophilus Brown
Vaughan, Ethel; b. 3 Apr 1879, d. 1 May 1862, wife of Ozro Brown
Waid, Mary Jane; d.  31 May 1921, aged 72 yrs, wife of Elmer Hartwell, (no headstone)
Waid, Philander;  d. 18 Oct 1902, aged 69 yrs, (no stone)
Wait, Eddie; b. 8 Feb 1860, d. 5 Dec 1862, son of Enoch & Emily
Wait, Emaline; d. 10 May 1885, aged 55y 9m, daughter of E. & H.
Wait, Enoch, d. 24 Oct 1869, husband of Emily Tryon
Waite, Alonzo; d. 2 Feb 1912, aged 64 yrs
Waite, Briggs; b. 1857, d. 1926, husband of Verna Sharon
Waite, Emily;  no stone
Waite, Hiram H., b. 7 Mar 1850, d. 8 Apr 1898
Waite, James E., b. 23 Apr 1852, d. 18 Oct 1916
Wellman, Rose Ann;b. Jul 1852, d. 24 Oct 1939, wife of Lyman Towle (no stone)
Wells, Mary; d. 26 Aug 1873, aged 72y 1m, wife of Willard Ayer
Wheeler, Edmond;  d. 17 Feb 1882, aged 27 yrs, (no stone)
Wright, Deborah; b. 30 Apr 1834, d. 30 Apr 1897
Wright, Sylvia; d. 18 Mar 1860, aged 82 yrs, wife of Thomas Ayer

 

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News and now in The Townships Sun

 

 

 

Ashes to Ashes–An October Dark Tale

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Something had filled the air recently and suddenly droves of people wanted to disappear. Was it a knee-jerk reaction to the over-population by the government? Estimates had always ranged that Earth was able to comfortably house 12 Billion to well over 100 Billion human beings, but the major problem was the way the world systems were operating. They were not set up to enable such population without major disasters. Suddenly there wasn’t enough land to cultivate food, or resources to make new iPhones. Because the earth was an exponential-based economy it would either have to crash or be overhauled – as it is was no longer sustainable in its current state. The Craigslist and Kijiji classified ads began to flood the site were short and sweet, but increased ten-fold on a daily basis.
 
“Fed Up With Life”
Marriage and job seems like it is going down the pan, counseling hasn’t helped. I just feel tired, tearful and just want to escape it all. So totally sad and fed up with everything.
“Failed at Life”
I wanna just run away and never have anything in my life again. i feel everything i do has a horrible ripple effect on my life. i know I’m just stressed, but i also know I’m useless and stupid. i don’t get why i make so many mistakes. I’ve failed at everything!
 
Day by day people went missing. Reports of the ads being answered with a robocall solution to their problems were at first unconfirmed. Yesterday my best friend told me his emotional distress call was going to be channeled into a free trip to what he called a happy place that would turn him around. As I watched him leave that very same day I had a feeling I would never see him again. I was right.
The plane left Los Angeles early March 6, 2014. The plane was to land in London at 6:30 the same day. The Aviation Hearld reported at 9:30 local time that the aircraft was over three hours late, and hadn’t landed anywhere.
It could not have gone missing.
They just lost radio contact.
This happens everyday.
They had information three hours after it went missing?  I’d be surprised if that is truly all they know at this point. That’s a heavily traveled, very populated corridor. Lots of other planes in the region, lots of ships in the water, lots of people on the ground. Information will come quickly, I suspect. They are gone (maybe not literally). The plane has lost contact. Sorry, but, being a pilot, that means something horrible has happened. Hoping for the best, but at this point, one has reason to fear the worst.
“There has been speculation that the aircraft has landed in Ireland, however nothing is certain yet and we are working to verify the authenticity of the report and others,” a local reporter said.
 
Meanwhile, BBC reported that the Emergency Rescue Center just announced it has found signal of the missing plane. I watched the playback. At 5:09 PM on the 7th (they are + 8 hours to GMT) flight MH300 was at an attitude of 35,000 fee & 469 knots.
At 5:19PM they were at ZERO altitude & 471 knots.
At 5:21 they vanish from the screen.
They were the only plane in that vicinity for a couple hundred miles.

The report however could not be confirmed.

More than 239 people were now being reported missing and at that moment I knew I had to make a call for help for the rest of us.
 In order to make the best of the future, one should never dwell on the past.
 Buy Linda Secaspina’s Books— Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac– Tilting the Kilt-Vintage Whispers of Carleton Place and 4 others on Amazon or Amazon Canada or Wisteria at 62 Bridge Street in Carleton Place

The Bascule Bridge of Smiths Falls — A Ghost Story

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Please note-This is purely a fictional story.. trust me:)

The Bascule Bridge has been a Smiths Falls landmark for over a hundred years and it’s not without its stories.  Sid Tennant was the foulest-tempered lad you ever did see; and he operated the bridge that sits on the outskirts of town that once spanned across the Rideau Canal,  so folks had to deal with him. The bridge was built on the Toronto-Ottawa line of the Canadian Northern Railway in 1912-1913, and John ran it like he owned the old mobile bridge.

One evening Sid was out riding when something in the trees scared his horse and it bolted like lightening. The crotchety old man was thrown down next to the bridge and he died instantly. The bridge from that day on was forever more poised at a 45 degree angle.

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Everyone thought they’d seen the last of Sid, until one night when Timothy Brown made his way home past that  roadbed span after drinking at the tavern.  Timothy was halfway past the old bridge when a plume of red steam came rising up through the boards of the adjacent bridge tender’s unmanned tower.

Timothy stopped and watched the mist solidify into the translucent body of  Old Man Tennant. The span began to move, and you have to remember very little power was required to operate it owing to the unique rolling lift action which almost eliminated friction. As Timothy stared in fright, the ghost of  the old Sid seemed to signal the overhead concrete counterweight which balanced the 21-metre plate-girder lift-span. It made a sound so loud all of Smiths Falls surely heard it, and as quick as Sid appeared he vanished at once with another loud popping sound.

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Since Timothy had a reputation for taking a wee drink or two, no one ever believed his story of course.  The ghost of Old Sid continued to harass the townsfolk of Smith Falls for years until Canadian National Railways transferred ownership of the bridge to the City of Smiths Falls for maintenance as a heritage resource in the mid 1980s. The ghost of Old Sid hasn’t been seen since, and maybe that’s a good thing. Or maybe not!

Please watch this amazing movie of the Smiths Falls Bascule Bridge

The Passing of Odd Fellows —- Tales From the IV

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This story is a piece of fiction I wrote about the house on Lake Ave East a few years ago. I found it yesterday and thought I would share.  Fictional story from the collection of Linda’s Dark and Dreadful Tales– and photos by Linda Seccaspina — THIS IS NOT A TRUE STORY

                             

Smiley glanced at the morning sun that was slowly being covered by passing clouds. Time was fleeting and he must pass on his special gift before it was too late. A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought, and slowly he walked towards the front door in his size 12 furry slippers. He knew who was on the other side without even looking. Young Ethan had been visiting him for weeks in preparation. Ethan flashed a grin upon seeing Smiley and said,

“Are we ready?”

Smiley roared at the top of his voice,

“I don’t know who you are Sir, but this is my house, and that is my doorstep you are standing in”
Ethan laughed and then grew silent as Smiley fondly placed his bluish hand upon his head. Their friendship had bloomed for years ever since Ethan had asked his father what he did each week at the Masonic Lodge on Bridge Street. The boy had been mesmerized by the eye and the pyramid in the Mason Bible that graced his Dad’s night table since he was 4. After many requests for information his father had said quite firmly,

“Mysteries, like the Masonic rites,  our parents and elders have sworn not to reveal to the uninitiated, which includes all children.”
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Ethan always followed his father when he went to his meetings hoping to find out some little thing that would give him some insight. One night he met old Smiley standing by the Roxy Theatre who said he might be able to offer some clues. Smiley, in turn, thought that the boy was perfect for his project.

The relationship grew into a kindred friendship and the weeks were filled with stories,magic and penny candy. Life would become what it was supposed to be thought Smiley. No aches, pains, and his mind would soon be clear as day.  Ethan was ready on the other hand to trade his life for the secrets of the Lodge.

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The appointed day came without much fanfare. The day was gloomy, but it would do. They climbed to the roof of the Lake Avenue East house to a small landing. There Smiley placed the tiny piano stool smack dab in the middle. As soon as Ethan sat down Smiley rotated the chair quickly until it whirled.


“Please release me!” Smiley screamed to the overhead skies.

Lightening began to rain on the small roof, but each bolt seemed to miss their target. Finally, what looked like a lightening bolt grabbed the stool by its legs creating a loud bang. When the smoke cleared there still sat Ethan—but was it really him?

The Carleton Place Canadian reported a mysterious object fell from the sky November 21, 1953 into a busy airline corridor along the St. Lawrence. Imaginations reported the object left a white trail as it plummeted to the ground. Immediately it generated fear that something bigger was coming and Lanark County police looked into whether a small plane had crashed, but found nothing.

Mark Rubin was among those who witnessed the object when it fell between Sayville, New York and Perth.
“It had this little curlicue tail at the top and was coming straight down at a 90-degree angle,” Rubin said to the media.

Police said they planned to send investigators to talk to Rubin and look at the photos he took. To this day they have not, and believe the object might have had more mysterious origins.

No one will ever know what fell from the sky that day, but whatever did gave new life to someone. Was it Smiley or Ethan that survived?  Had anyone been reported missing? One thing is for certain, whatever happened had to remain a secret, as a secret between two is a secret, but a secret between three is everybody’s secret. After all– “What we do for ourselves dies with us–what we do for others remains and is immortal”— *Albert Pike.

Historical Note 
*Albert Pike (December 29, 1809 – April 2, 1891) was an attorney, soldier, writer, and Freemason. Albert Pike is one of the only Confederate military officers or figures honored with a statue in Washington, D.C., another being Robert E. Lee

The Bed Bugs are Jumpin’ — The Beginning of the End….

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The Bed Bugs are Jumpin’ — The Beginning of the End….

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A “Some What” Fictional Story — Oakland 2013

Everywhere I go I see mattresses tossed out on the sidewalk, and there are some in my area that have been sitting outside for a couple of weeks. While I know they have to go somewhere- they are not making the town’s esthetics look good by sitting there. I am not going to mention where they are, but the photos that are on here are from a clean-up campaign I helped with in in Oakland, Ca. But no one is blind.

Free Bay Area mattress, box spring drop-off points now open – The Mercury  News

Bedbug infestations in Montreal are at an all-time high, say exterminators who can hardly keep up with demand.

“There’s more than last year,” said Harold Leavey of Maheu Extermination Ltée. His company employs 25 full-time exterminators.

“In 2000, I would handle one or two bedbug cases a year,” he told CBC’s French-language service, Radio-Canada.

 “Now it’s 50 to 100 a day.”

Here is a story I wrote a few years ago that could happen.

   The Bed Bugs are Jumpin’ like Jumpin’ Jack Flash 

The bed bugs are going all literary on us now and now have been spotted in the bowels of  Montreal. They were last seen on the reference desk of the Grande Bibliothèque and also checking out the words of the latest True Blood novel.

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The library user who wishes to remain anonymous due to fear of her landlord finding out about the pesky bug enjoying the latest Sookie Stackhouse book had no vendetta against the Montreal Library system. She placed the infiltrated book in a zip-lock bag and complained to management, yet the library matron didn’t really care and said,

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“We’ve had reports [of bed bugs] from all over the place. We’re spraying all over. But we hadn’t heard they’d gotten to Literature yet.”

So what happens next ? If they are not careful the inhabitants of the library might end up like the two subjects of my fictional story. Or is it fictional?

 

 

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It was the beginning of the end…… Linda Seccaspina

Matt and Steve sat there wide eyed as they watched their regular Friday night viewing of Dateline. They could not believe what they saw, and were literally shakingThe NBC program had put it all out there in black and white for everyone to see. All those mattresses people threw out everyday never went into landfill sites. They were picked up by mattress dealers and taken to special places to be recycled into new ones. 

Apparently, they had been doing this for years and stripped the fabric off, and then sprayed them with a pestitcide.  Newly recovered, they were sent to bargain mattress places to be resold.

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Matt gulped his beer down quickly and remembered yesterday in technicolor. They both had fought a vicious house fire and bed bugs had been everywhere. The little Hannibal Lectors had run like bandits away from the flames and had latched on to their equipment and gear. They screamed as the bugs crawled all over them. When they got back to the fire station they had to quarantine all their stuff so the bugs would not infiltrate them.

There was not a place in the city of New York where you could walk now without being bitten. Toronto was next, and half the population of Montreal had been destroyed by the super bugs.  It was only a matter of time that every city would be literally be eaten alive.

People were blaming the Clinton administration as pesticides had been used for years and then they decided to ban it. Now the world was slowly dying because of it.  The reality of it all was that Clinton was not to blame – it was actually a company called *”Monsanterino”.

download (51)    For years Monsanterino had controlled the seeds which created the food that people consumed.They had introduced a lot of genetic horrors to the world’s food chain, and they did not seem to care. People started getting sick with celiac disease because their insides could not digest the hybrids. It was only part of a larger plot to take over the world.

 

Secretly they had bred the bugs and introduced them slowly into the cities. They knew they would make money hand over fist manufacturing pest control products. The mattress dealers, thinking they were spraying the Monsanterino pesticides, were actually spraying a hormone to attract the pests.

Steve looked at Matt and had tears in his eyes. He started to speak softly and then his voice grew into hysteria.

“Matt, the bugs have doubled in numbers since yesterday, what’s next?”

Matt looked at him and said,

“I guess you didn’t hear, senator Mike Duffy died yesterday. His office became so infested he did not get out in time. He’s dead Steve, he’s dead!”

 

They both looked at each other and realized that there was no hope now, and they were everywhere! It was only a matter of time now. Matt looked outside and saw a huge billboard that had a giant bed bug with an exterminator’s address on it. It was now officially the city that never sleeps. The national crisis was not unemployment now, it was bed bugs.

It was time to go to sleep and they headed up to their separate rooms. They each put on their newly purchased protective flea collars made by “Monsanterino” and crawled into bed. They would be safe for another night. Sadly, they were the last tenants alive in the building. All it takes is one pregnant bed bug to fill a building, and within three weeks most of the tenants had met their match.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” had now become reality everywhere.

 Images (except the bed bugs thank you very much) and Text: Linda Seccaspina 2013

The story about the mattresses being picked up and reused is true and was on Dateline. I have never bought a discount mattress again:)

Click here for story

The Day the Internet Disappeared — Linda’s Dreadful Dark Tales – Zoomer

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The Day the Internet Disappeared — Linda’s Dreadful Dark Tales – Zoomer.