LIFE OF MY FATHER - 18

MY MOTHER, DONALDA DARIMONT

At this point, I think I should say something about my mother. After her marriage, she led a very conventional life, likely similar to the lives of the majority of her contemporaries. She was content with her role as wife and mother. There must have been ups and downs. However, as a child, I was unaware of the important milestones in her life. For the most part, I took her for granted. She was always there to do everything that needed to be done, without asking for or receiving much credit. So, although this is an account of my father's life, it should not in any way detract from how important she was to me.

My mother lived her first six years on a farm on the banks of the Sturgeon River at Lamoureux, near Fort Saskatchewan. After the death of her father from the flu in 1918, the family moved into Edmonton and lived with the grandparents.

She would frequently be taken out to the country to visit her many cousins. Her Uncle Ernest Lamoureux, her mother's brother, had a big farm on the Correction Line. When he bought one of the earliest cars, family members laughed at him because he couldn't drive it properly, but instead drove it into the ditch all the time. Fortunately, at the speeds of travel in those days, neither driver nor passengers were at much risk of injury.

After completing Grade 12 in Edmonton in 1930, my mother attended Normal School, the teacher training college, for one year. She told me that she had difficulty getting her first teaching post, and was successful only because she was fluent in French. Bilingual teachers were in demand in Alberta's many small French-speaking farming communities. As teaching contracts were for only one year, she taught in several places: Horse Hills, Halkirk, Mallaig, and Morinville are some that I remember. She taught until she married my father in 1939.

Her schools had only one room and accommodated all grades. This meant that when she first began to teach, she had high school kids in her classes who were almost as old as she was! As a young child, I loved nothing more than to look at her scrapbook which was filled with mementos from her teaching days, including hundreds of beautiful valentines. I'm afraid the valentines and the scrapbook itself were much the worse for wear after this, and to my knowledge have unfortunately not survived.

Winter weather in the Alberta prairies was almost as bad as it was in Flin Flon. The schools were heated with pot-bellied wood-burning stoves. The teacher's room and board would be arranged by the School Board at a nearby farm. One day, a bad blizzard came up suddenly and Mom closed the school and sent everyone home. As she lived only a mile away, she set off on foot alone, following the fence posts to find her way. Soon, the wind was so severe and the blowing snow so heavy that she could no longer see anything. It was only by chance that she arrived home safely, terribly cold and frightened for her life.

For all this trouble, she was paid between $70 and $80 a year, and received her money only in the autumn of the next year, assuming, that is, that the farmers had enough money from the harvest to pay their taxes. In spite of the hardship, my mother loved her life as a teacher and considered herself fortunate to be employed during the Depression. From her valentines, I believe she was loved by her pupils. For fun, she went horse-back riding or went into the nearest town on Saturday night with friends. In the winter, they would harness the horse to a wagon full of hay and bundle up warmly. The horse would pull them on the rail line which was always kept clear of snow. She assured me that this was totally safe, as they knew exactly when to expect the trains.

In the photos are:

1) My mother
2) My parents in front of my great grandfather's house in Edmonton
3) My mother
4) Four generations (mother's mother, mother's grandmother, mother and daughter, and
5) My mother in front of one of her schools.