The Lost Aunt

My great grand father, Jon Jonsson Johnson, born July 24, 1881 in Lambhagi, Vestmannaeyjar, Iceland; died August 14, 1953. He was married to my great grand mother, Steinunn Sigurðardóttir. Her second husband. They emigrated to Canada in 1924 but divorced and he moved back to Iceland before 1938. In September of 2012, I asked Fridrik… Continue reading The Lost Aunt

Christmas Passing

Pierre Charron, my 7th Great Grand Father, son of Pierre Charron and Judith Martin, died on Christmas day in the year 1700. He emigrated to Canada in 1662 (in 1661 according to some sources) and married Catherine Pillard on October 19, 1665 in Montreal. They had 12 children all of whom reached adulthood and eventually… Continue reading Christmas Passing

Clarinda

We’ve already talked a little bit about Charlie Wong, Helen’s father, and there will be more about him later. But now, before we move on, here is just a few words about Clarinda, Helen’s mother. Yes, she was already mentioned as a Ducharme and her whole story will be found in Book 17, but I… Continue reading Clarinda

Young Helen

It is not my plan to go deeply into Helen’s life here. She is the entire subject of ‘Chinoise – Ancestors Book 18’. Despite the loss of her mother before Helen’s 2nd birthday, she was not raised absent of caring. And even though she was raised, for the most part by the French relatives, the… Continue reading Young Helen

The Ducharmes

We’ve already talked about them a bit, the Ducharmes, my French side. Uncle Dan, Aunt Mary, Clarinda and the woman we called Gramma Ducharme, even though she was not really our Gramma. She was Clarinda’s younger sister, so that would make her our Grand Aunt. Several of them had the first name ‘Marie’, combined with… Continue reading The Ducharmes

Harold

He never had a career, he had jobs, and some of the time he didn’t. He was, of course, in the army, at first. It could have turned into a career but didn’t. Even the training he received as a signal corpsman could have turned into something. Especially in today’s world. Didn’t happen. This is… Continue reading Harold

College Avenue

Mondor. That sort of sounds like Mordor, doesn’t it? Mrs. Mondor wasn’t quite as grim as Sauron or as foreboding as the black volcanic plain east of Gondor. But there were times when it seemed that way. Mrs. Mondor was my grade 4 teacher. We moved again. From St Johns to College Avenue. I got… Continue reading College Avenue