- Apperley, Alva and Agnes (Edgar)
My Story - by Agnes Edgar Apperley McCaw
Alva and I were married in Avonlea, Saskatchewan on November 11th, 1929. It was the beginning of the difficult depression years. Alva's Uncle, Robert Rousay, had helped him make a down payment on a farm. Lack of rain and no money coming in made living pretty difficult. Debts seemed to grow alarmingly. We couldn't even pay the interest charges, so without consulting Uncle Bob we signed a quit claim, intending to rent, but the owner said, "No, get moving."
We moved to Whitewood, Saskatchewan where Alva did odd jobs, hauled cattle, sawed wood etcetera. We planted a garden each year, but because of lack of rain they were very poor. We did get by but our living was pretty slim. A cow we had provided milk and butter most of the year. The calves were used for meat. Jobs were very scarce and competition was keen for what work there was. At one time there were eight sawing outfits in Whitewood. If you paid four men, a bare minimum of workers, ten cents a load for cutting, ten cents to move your outfit, you had ten cents a load left to buy gas and pay for your own time. The price of cutting wood was sixty cents. Everyone was short of money so they bought wood by the load and had it cut "by the load". We lived from day to day, hand to mouth existence.
Our three girls were born while we were living in town, Vivian in August of 1930, Loraine in December of 1931, and Eileen in March of 1935. Alva was still sawing wood and helping his father trucking cattle. When the girls were old enough they attended United Church Sunday School, later sang in the choir and joined the church as members of the congregation. During the depression years we made over clothes for the girls, knit sweaters, mitts, etcetera for them and bought cheap dresses for myself. I even made a man's shirt from dyed flour sacks. We ate only very plain food, no juices or cookies or any extras. We did not have any entertainment like shows or concerts or even church. Irene Robertson, a neighbor girl, often came to visit and gave me a lot of news of town happenings. I was always thankful for her visits. She would never smoke in front of my girls. At that time it was a daring thing for girls to do. Nice girls just didn't smoke.
We kept the children in Sunday School by often washing or mending stockings Saturday night; they only had one pair each. I remember one Christmas when the Sunday school was having a supper and then a concert. My girls were to take cookies that night. I didn't have cookies or a penny to buy any. My pride would not allow my girls to go empty-handed. Vivian was extremely disappointed and cried when she couldn't go to the supper. She went to the concert afterwards but today I would have let them go to both. I know that the Sunday school teachers understood more than I knew. For two Christmases during the worst of the depression a bag of candy or nuts or Christmas goodies was left at Knowler's store for our children. Old Mr. Stevenson knew how hard it was for us and how much it meant at Christmas for our girls. I appreciated very much Mr. Stevenson's generosity. I think of him and his kindness every year.
One year at Christmas time, John Apperley, Alva's Father, bought a turkey. We decided to pool our other goodies with Ole and Evelyn Wenman, Alva's sister and her husband, and have Christmas at their place. They were going to drive in the sleigh the three miles to take us out on Christmas morning. We had sent our oranges, candies, nuts, etcetera (whatever we were able to afford) out in the sleigh the day before Christmas. Everything was set for a lovely Christmas day. When we woke in the morning there was such a blizzard blowing you could not see across the street! We had no phone but we knew no one would venture out in such a storm. Our meat was all frozen; we were totally unprepared for such an emergency. We had potato soup for Christmas dinner that year! However by suppertime we had a roast of beef cooked.
With the coming of the thirties there were quite a few changes. We had some extremely dry years then. It seemed as if there was no moisture in any cloud that appeared. With the lack of rain came an incessant wind. Because farmers believed in deep cultivation and "keep your summer fallow black" the wind just lifted tons of the topsoil and carried it for miles. Dirt sifted under doors or windows in your house, on dishes, floors, in cupboards, even your food felt gritty at times. Russian thistle flourished in this dry climate. When it broke off and rolled along to be caught in a fence the dust soon built over it covering fences and filling ditches but leaving bare hilltops of clay and little stones. The temperature was high those years too. You just could not get out of the dust and heat. During those trying years our gardens were very poor. Our Canadian friends in the east were very kind and helpful. They sent carloads of apples, preserves, fish and whatever they could spare to help the people of Saskatchewan. We who remember how welcome their help was at that time are still grateful for this kindness.
In 1939 I went back to teaching school. I drove an old model car to Hopehill School for six weeks then came to Burrows School in January of 1940. The pay was not very good; $55.00 per month for ten months. Finally we found a place to live on a farm of Dick Sell's, later owned by Bobby Hogg, then we moved a few miles south to "Twenty Five". This land was owned by Clarence Vennard and was our home until his war bride arrived from Holland. Behind the barn on "Twenty Five" there was a slough which was filled with water all year. We had a cow and had to dispose of extra milk. We had a few chickens but decided to get a setting of duck eggs and one of turkey eggs. The turkeys grew and turned out well. We had our Christmas turkey and sent one to Mother and Dad. The ducks did very well too. The slough was just right; chop soaked in milk made them grow like mad. In the fall we didn't get all the ducks killed and sold. I think we had about six ducks or drakes left, I don't know how many of each, but next year we had ducklings of all ages and sizes all summer. I think we had over seventy ducks. Did they ever eat the chop! Finally in the fall we got shipping crates from the poultry pool and shipped them live weight. We just couldn't begin to dress that many birds. If we had had the pluckers that they have now a days we might have managed it.
One summer we fed a little pig on milk and chop. We were visiting Alva's Uncle Adrian Apperley, and he had an old sow with thirteen piglets. One poor little fellow was thin, scruffy skin, dry bristles and a straight tail. Uncle told Alva he could have him. Milk soaked chop soon put him in shape. He was quite a cute little pig and became a family pet. The day came when it had to be butchered. I think the girls and I were all away at school. Meat is meat so the two were not thought of at the same time. Another time some of our young chickens were disappearing. We didn't know where or how but one afternoon when Alva went to feed them a skunk was in the barn. The skunk never had it so good; lots of food, straw to sleep on and many cozy hiding places. Alva cornered him under a manger. He sent one of the girls to the house for me to bring his rifle and shells down to the barn. Alva stood in the manger pointing the gun down so that as soon as the skunk poked his head out far enough Alva would have him. It was a sure thing, only the skunk wouldn't poke his head out. Alva told me to find a stick and poke him from behind; which I did. Then everything happened at once. The skunk poked his head out, Alva shot it off, and the barn was filled with the most sickening odor imaginable! We had to burn our clothes, dispose of the dead skunk and clean the barn as best we could. The odor lingered for years. On wet days there was always the smell of a skunk in the barn. We really don't know whether the skunk got our chickens or whether rats buried them under a manger in a chicken house. We found about a dozen dead chickens there.
The eight years at Burrows slipped by fast. Vivian went to Moose Jaw Central Collegiate for a year. Later she became a supervisor in Buffalo Plain School, near Windthorst, Saskatchewan. It was there she met Robert LaRose. She married him in 1950. Loraine and Eileen finished their schooling in Whitewood. Loraine took a business course in Regina and Eileen a Computer course. Loraine worked in the bank in Whitewood and in 1956 she married Douglas McCormick, a local boy. Eileen joined the Air Force and was stationed in various places in Canada for five years. She returned to Saskatchewan and worked for Saskatchewan Telephones as an operator. In 1964 she married Henry Flick, also a local boy.
Both Alva and his father John were small men in stature and the work they did was too heavy for their size. They moved barrels full of fuel, lifted empty ones into the truck, and hauled a hose, heavy with fuel, through a snowdrift or across a lawn, to fill some ones fuel tank. Alva developed bleeding ulcers and later a bad heart. He had too many obstacles to overcome, too many demands on his time and substance. He was, in my opinion, dominated by too many circumstances that he was unable to alter. We lived for several years in Burrows District, a year on the Clavelle farm just north of Whitewood before we were finally able to obtain living accommodation in Whitewood. By then I was teaching in the Whitewood School. Things were better for us but Alva's heart was gradually getting worse. He found trucking very hard and finally had to give it up.
When I was teaching in the country Alva kept our car running, took us to school when roads were bad, and came for us. (Loraine and Eileen were going to school part of that time.) We drove on country trails in mud or snow or rain. One trip I remember the car followed ruts in the road cut by a previous traveller. Once in the big oil truck it skidded in wet snow on new grass. We just kept sliding backward till I thought we would turn over in the ditch. However it got traction on a bit of gravel and we climbed out. Once our little truck stalled on Scissors Creek hill. I backed it into a cut in the hill. Once my brakes failed on this same hill. I turned off into Adolph's yard hoping to stop. When it did we were on the lip of the creek that time.
I think of the many happy times we had. School parties and picnics or concerts were always exciting times. Nature hikes, playing on the ice in the slough or the water in the creek at the road. Watching a bluebird coaxing its young ones out of the nest, the two fluffy baby owls and a young fawn were all interesting, but I didn't particularly enjoy a bicycle basket filled with salamanders. One boy brought me a little green grass snake too. Another up-coming naturalist felt the last six or eight inches of a garter snake tail on my desk to see if it still moved by three thirty! On hot days we often ate our lunches picnic style in the shade of the school. There were two or three friendly gophers that would take bread out of our hands. This was fine until one trustee thought gophers harbored lice bearing disease. We had to stop encouraging them. It was fun while it lasted and no one developed any illness from it.
After Alva and I were married there were many happy times but also some very sad ones. Vivian, our first daughter, needed surgery at five weeks of age. She was a strong baby and recovered quickly. Her second son, Brent, had the same operation twenty or more years later. The "dirty thirties" were very hard years for us. We had two more daughters that were a joy to both of us. In 1944 my brother Joe who was a bombardier on a Lancaster bomber was shot down over France. He was reported missing for several months. This fact intensified our grief. He was shot down in April of 1944 and in May of that same year Mother received flowers for mothers' day from him. He had ordered them before his last mission. My parents were devastated each time some reminder would arrive in the mail. Mother received his personal belongings or his tour book, or watch or certificate of merit etcetera. Our next trouble came when Dad suffered a severe stroke in 1950. He was crippled until he died in 1957. Mother was glad she had those intimate years with Dad. Alva had been suffering from ulcers and heart disease. In 1964 he died sitting in his chair in the sun by the kitchen door. My world seemed to fall apart. I was fortunate to have my three daughters and my teaching. I lived a day at a time. With their love and understanding and God's help I finally accepted a new but lonely way of living. Four years later I married a widower, a retired farmer, and I quit teaching. Bill McCaw and I had 15 wonderful years together but cancer took him in April of 1983. During this period Vivian fought valiantly but lost to cancer in 1976. These losses were very hard to accept. Vivian was only 46 years old. I think of the many little things I could have done for her well being but didn't think of them at the time. My Mother, at 91 years of age, died in 1974. She had hardening of the arteries and suffered many small strokes.
[On April 23rd, 1987 Agnes Edgar Apperley McCaw suffered a heart attack . . . and left us to join her loved ones who had gone on before.] [7]
- Apperley, Alva and Agnes (Edgar)
Alva was the son of John Apperley and Jennie Rousay. He was born 19 Nov 1898, in Whitewood, North West Territories. His mother passed away six months after Alva was born so he lived with his Grandmother, Sarah, until the time of her passing in 1902. His father John, had married Martha Steele so he lived with them but he spent some of his time with his mother's sister, Mrs. Wm. Reid (Margaret). He attended both Newborgor and McKay schools.
Alva farmed for several years with his father and then on his own. On 11 Nov 1929 he married Agnes Edgar. She was born in Owen Sound, Ont. 11 Feb 1908. It was the beginning of the difficult depression years. Lack of rain and no money coming in made living pretty difficult, so they moved into Whitewood in 1930 where Alva did odd jobs, hauled cattle, sawed wood etc. They planted a garden each year, but because of lack of rain they were very poor. Their living was pretty slim. A cow provided milk and butter most of the year. The calves were used for meat. Jobs were very scarce and competition was keen for what work there was. At one time there were eight sawing outfits in Whitewood. If you paid four men - a bare minimum of workers - ten cents a load for cutting, ten cents to move your outfit, you had ten cents a load left to buy gas and pay for your own time. The price of cutting a load was sixty cents. Everyone was short of money so they bought wood by the load and had it cut by the load. We lived from day to day - hand to mouth existence. While Alva and Agnes were living in town their family of three girls were born, Vivian in Aug. of 1930, Loraine in Dec. of 1931 and Eileen in Mar. of 1935. Alva was still sawing wood and helping his father trucking cattle. When the girls were old enough they attended United Church Sunday School, sang in the choir and joined the church as members of the congregation.
One year at Christmas time, John Apperley, Alva's father, bought a turkey. Our family and the Wenman family, Alva's sister, decided to pool our goodies and have Christmas out at the Wenman farm. We had sent our oranges, candies, nuts, etc. out in the sleigh the day before Christmas. They were going to drive in the sleigh the three miles to take us out on Christmas morning. Everything was set for a lovely Christmas day. When we woke in the morning there was such a blizzard blowing you could not see across the street. We had no phone but we knew no one would venture out in such a storm. Our meat was all frozen, we were totally unprepared for such an emergency. We had potato soup for Christmas dinner that year. However by supper time we had a roast of beef cooked.
In 1939 Agnes went back to teaching school. She drove an old model T car to Hopehill school for six weeks then came to Burrows School in Jan. 1940. The pay was not very good - $55.00 per month for ten months. They finally found a place to live on a farm of Dick Sell's - later owned by Bobby Hogg - then they moved a few miles south to 'twenty-five'. This land was owned by Clarence Vennard and was our home until his war bride arrived from Holland. Alva by this time was delivering fuel oil for Bob King, the Imperial Oil dealer in Whitewood.
Behind the barn on 'twenty-five' there was a slough which was filled with water all year. We had a cow and had to dispose of extra milk. We had a few chickens but decided to get a setting of duck eggs and one of turkey eggs. The turkeys grew and turned out well. We had our Christmas turkey and sent one to Agnes' parents in Moose Jaw, Sask. The ducks did very well too. The slough was just right. Chop soaked in milk made them grow like mad. In the fall we didn't get all the ducks killed and sold. I think we had about six ducks or drakes left, I don't know how many of each, but next year we had ducklings all ages and sizes all summer. I think we had over seventy ducks. Did they ever eat the chop. Finally in the fall we got shipping crates from the poultry pool and shipped them live weight. We just couldn't begin to dress that many birds. If we had had the pluckers that they have today we might have managed it.
One summer we fed a little pig on milk and chop. We were visiting Dad's Uncle, Adrian Apperley, and he had an old sow with thirteen piglets. One poor little fellow had thin scruffy skin, dry bristles and a straight tail. Uncle Ad told Dad he could have him. Milk soaked chop soon put him in shape. He was quite a cute little pig and soon became a family pet. The day came when it had to be butchered. Mother and us girls stayed away at school the day it was butchered.
Another time some of our young chickens were disappearing. We didn't know where or how, but one afternoon when Dad went to feed them a skunk was in the barn. The skunk never had it so good - lots of food, straw to sleep on and many cozy hiding places. Dad cornered him under a manger. He sent one of us girls to the house for Mother to bring his rifle and shells down to the barn. Dad stood in the manger pointing the gun down so that as soon as the skunk poked his head out far enough he would have him. It was a sure thing, only the skunk wouldn't poke his head out. Dad told mother to find a stick and poke him from behind - which she did. Then everything happened at once. The skunk poked his head out - Dad shot it off, and the barn was filled with the most sickening odor imaginable. We had to burn our clothes, dispose of the dead skunk and clean the barn as best we could. The odor lingered for years. On wet days there was always the smell of a skunk in the barn.
We lived for several years in the Burrows district, a year on the Clavelle farm just north of Whitewood, before we were able to obtain living accommodation in Whitewood. By then Mother was teaching in the Whitewood School. Things were better for us but Dad had developed a bad heart which was gradually getting worse. He found trucking very hard and finally had to give it up.
Dad was a kind loving man, extremely fond of his family. He passed away in June of 1964. Mother taught school for four more years, retiring in June of 1968. She married Bill McCaw in Jan, of 1968. They shared fifteen years together before cancer took Bill in Apr. of 1983. Mother passed away in Apr. of 1987.
Alva and Agnes Apperley's family are as follows: Vivian Lenore - born 6 Aug 1930, took most of her schooling in Whitewood and Burrows schools. She took one year of her high school at Moose Jaw Central Collegiate. Later she became a supervisor in Buffalo Plains School near Windthorst, Sask. It was there she met Robert LaRose, whom she married in 1950. They farmed in the Windthorst - Corning area for many years before purchasing a farm just north of Moosomin, Sask. in 1964. Two sons were born to Vivian and Robert, Larry, born in 1951, married Elaine Ikert of Wapella. They have two children, Devin (1971) and Shalyn (1979). They live in Edmonton, Alta. Brent, born in 1959 married Barbara Ireland of Moosomin, Sask. They have four children, Trisha (1976), Curtis (1977), Chantelle (1989) and Faith (1990). They live in Winnipeg, Man. Vivian passed away in 1976 and is buried in Moosomin, Sask.
Loraine Eveline - finished her schooling in Whitewood and then took a business course in Regina. She worked for the Bank of Montreal in Whitewood and later in Regina. She is presently employed at Loggies Shoes Ltd. in Regina. In 1956 she married Doug McCormick from Whitewood.
Eileen Jean - After high school Eileen took a Comptometer course in Regina, later she joined the R.C.A.F. She was stationed in various places in Canada for five years. Eileen returned to Sask. and worked for Government Telephones. In 1964 she married Henry Flick. [10]
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1898 - 1964 (65 years)
[1] 
Census
Mabel Eveline Apperley, b. 12 Jun 1904, Whitewood, Assiniboia, Northwest Territories, Canada 
: Address
: Location
: City/Town
: County/Shire
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