Final Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly

Jean Kelly Cameron was the second school teacher in Peace River, arriving in December of 1913. In "I Remember Peace River, Alberta and Adjacent Districts 1800s - 1913 Part I", Cameron recalls her journey to Peace River, her memories of school and how Peace River Crossing looked in 1913. The first installment of the Recollections was published in our first newsletter sent out to our Members. For more membership information, please visit: http://peacerivermuseum.blogspot.com/2008/08/membership-drive-2008.htmlcall the Museum at 780-624-4261

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly, Part VI (Final)

"When I met H.A. George's children the first things Bertie, a boy of nine, wished to know was if I could speak Cree. I told him no, and he said that was O.K., then they could be saucy to me in Cree and I would not know what they were saying. I gathered that when Miss Anderson had reproved some of them, they would answer, "Kip-a-ha-Kea-toon" which meant "Shut your mouth!" I remember once when little Alice George chimed in with a somewhat naughty version of a little Cree song I had heard, her mother turned on her with a shocked Wah! Wah! Kip-a-ha! This song, sung to the tune of heel-to-toe polka was:
Kispin kea sakahin, (If you love me)
Semack pe-O-che min (Quickly kiss me)
Kisipin kea Pakwa sin (If you hate me)
Semack ke waya wan (Quickly leave me)

Many of the old-timers were fluent in Cree, notably Mr. George and T.A. Brick, both of whose wives were Metis; but while few of us new-comers could handle the language we all used Cree words in our colloquial talk. For instance, we would say, "Are you coming to our Waskeagan (house) tonight?" or "Give this a wepaemow (look)." Billy Smith, a mail carrier who had a homestead somewhere out the Shaftesbury Trail was called "Apsis monnagen napec," meaning little (on account of his short stature) letter man. I am afraid Billy was a bad little man. He sang me a Cree song one day, knowing I did not understand it, and thinking I could not learn it. But when I repeated it word perfect, he gave me a look of shocked horror. When I said, "Wasn't that right?" he said with a sheepish grain, "Yeah, it's right, but don't ever let anyone hear you sing it!"

The suffix "Sis" was a diminutive, so that while the word napeo meant man, nape'sis meant a boy. Similarly, isquao (a local pronounciation of Squaw) meant woman, and isqua'esis (which the young men delightedly mispronounced "Squeeze us") indicated a girl.

The Crees belong to the Algonquin family, and it was easy to see the resemblance between their words and the words used in Longfellow's poem Hiawatha. Nokomis was the word for grandmother, though it was locally pronounced No-Kimis; wapoose meant rabbit, (wabasso) Mis-te-hay of missou meant large and see-pee was water. The Crees called the Peace River Mis-te-hay See-Pee or Missou Seepee, and the phonetic resemblance of the latter to Mississippi can readily be noted. Kisemente, the Cree words for God shows its derivation from Gitche Manito, while muchimento (devil) is a variation of Mitche Manitou.

Mr. George told me that the Cree have no special word for muddy, but instead used the same word as for Smoky. Thus Smoky River simply meant muddy river. He also said that Cheepi Seepee, the Cree name for Spirit River meant Ghost River, because in its mists they believed the spirits of the departed could be seen. Having no word for thank you they used the French word merci.

The word for money was soonias, and pay-ak soonias was one dollar. I recall an amusing anecdote about a native woman who brought in a pair of moccasins to the Revillon Freres trading post and demanded a pay-ak soonias from Jimmie McCashin, the accountant. Being overstocked with moccasins at the time her refused to take them; but she sat there doggedly all afternoon, at regular intervals flapping the moccasins on the desk and reiterating "Pay-ak soonias!"

In exasperation he finally took the moccasins and gave her a note to take to the clerk-cashier which read "Give this S.O.B. one dollar." The clerk was an innocent lad who racked his brain as to the meaning of the note, and finally decided that S.O.B. meant soda biscuits. So he gave her a dollar's worth, whereupon she departed highly satisfied.

In playing cards the king was oki-mow (big chief), the queen was merely the woman, isquao, while the Jack was mounted policeman, (smoggens.) Mustus meant an ox, and Buffalo Lake was Mustus Lake on old maps. Atim was the word for dog, but a horse must-atim literally cow-dog or cow-chaser.

The Cree word for daughter is Tannis, and I used to love to hear Allie Brick address his daughter Emma as Ne'Tannis, (my daughter). I still think Ne'Tannis is a lovely name for a girl. According to J.H. MacGregor, the name Cree is from the name the Crees called themselves, Kenistenoag, "Men of the Forest." The French pronounced this Kinistino or Kristinaux, and then shortened the latter into Cris or Kris, which was pronounced like Cree in English."

Thus completes Jean Cameron Kelly's recollections from "I Remember Part I". She continues with more recollections in "I Remember Part II" and it is available at the Peace River Museum library if you are interested. We hope you enjoyed this short series and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. We can be contacted at museum@peaceriver.net or 780-624-4261.

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly

Jean Kelly Cameron was the second school teacher in Peace River, arriving in December of 1913. In "I Remember Peace River, Alberta and Adjacent Districts 1800s - 1913 Part I", Cameron recalls her journey to Peace River, her memories of school and how Peace River Crossing looked in 1913. The first installment of the Recollections was published in our first newsletter sent out to our Members. For more membership information, please visit: http://peacerivermuseum.blogspot.com/2008/08/membership-drive-2008.htmlcall the Museum at 780-624-4261

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly, Part V

"The Crossing was surrounded by five hills. The Grouard Hill on the east of town where Twelve-Foot Davis lies was so named because the road leading down its face into town was the end of the Grouard Trail from Grouard to Peace River. To the south east and separated from the Grouard Hill by the Heart River canyon is the Judah Hill, named after a settler, who, however, spelled his name Juda. To the north east and separated from the Grouard Hill by Pat's Creek is the Kaufman Hill, named after Colonel Kaufman a colorful character from Chicago, who built his house on the brow of the hill and lived there with his little dog, Guiseppe. The house was recently destroyed by fire.
Across the Peace on the north west is the George Hill, where H.A. George had his homestead, while directly west of the Town lies Mount Misery. On this hill a great many homesteads were filed when it became known that the advent of the railroad was at hand. Most of these were filed, not with any idea of making a farm out of the land, but in the hope that the land would appreciate in value. The attempts of the "homesteaders" to put in anything approximating a legal term of residence in wretched shacks, cabins and even tents were frought with so much misery that this was so named.
South of the Crossing the barracks of the old Royal North West Mounted Police occupied the site of the present R.C.M.P. barracks. The O.C. was a massive block of Icelandie granite whom we knew as Sergeant Anderson - his real name was said to be unpronounceable. When it was time to exercise the horses a number of constables used to canter through the village on horseback, each leading a second horse. The contrast of their scarlet coats against the surrounding snow made one of the most unforgettable pictures I had ever seen, and I never failed to get a thrill out of it, even when the background of the picture changed from white snow to green foliage. Along the south side of the Heart just before it reached the Peace bloomed a line of tents and shanties which in the light hearted mood of the day was nicknamed Rotton Row. Nothing of Rotton Row survives; but in line with its former site, though pre-dating it by many years, on the back of the Peace was a forlorn little enclosure in which surrounded by a weather-beaten picket fence, were a number of what looked like equally weather-beaten chicken coops. I was told that this was a cemetary where a number of native children were buried. The coop effects were to keep the rain off the graves so that the bodies would not decay so soon, since Mr. George said, there was an old belief among the native people that so long as the body remained intact, the soul of the departed would hover around their old homes. Today the chicken coops have vanished and the fence is neatly whitewashed. The graves are carefully tended to and the sign of the Cross is raised above them.
Besides the Heart River, another tributary of the Peace colloquially known as Pat's Creek, enters town from the northeast, from between the Kaufman Hill and Grouard Hill. On the township plots it is more formally designated Wesley Creek, and was named after Patrick Wesley, and Metis whose Half Breed script covered the present Anglican Church property. When he was afflicted by small pox he was cared for by a devoted and courageous woman, Mrs. Robert Holmes, wife of the Anglican minister. For this act of Christian charity she paid dearly, for one of her own children contracted the dread disease and died.
Poor Pat died too, but in his gratitude he made a grant of his lands to the Anglican Church, asking only that his bones be laid to rest in the shadow of the church which was to be built on the land he had given. Pat lies there to this day, God rest his soul."

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly, Part IV

Jean Kelly Cameron was the second school teacher in Peace River, arriving in December of 1913. In "I Remember Peace River, Alberta and Adjacent Districts 1800s - 1913 Part I", Cameron recalls her journey to Peace River, her memories of school and how Peace River Crossing looked in 1913. The first installment of the Recollections was published in our first newsletter sent out to our Members. For more membership information, please visit: http://peacerivermuseum.blogspot.com/2008/08/membership-drive-2008.htmlcall the Museum at 780-624-4261.

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly, Part IV

"The schoolroom also served almost every week for evening parties and dances with myself at the piano quite often and whatever fiddler could be pressed into service. Besides this Mr. George had a phonograph and a large number of records of the popular music of the day.

I had ten pupils that first day, but by the end of June this had increased to about fifty, in all eight grades, and the ballroom was no longer adequate. Seventeen of my first pupils were: Bertie, Alice and Ethel George; Teddy White; Simon, Freddie and Alice Gullion; Emma Brick; Mary, Robert and Jimmie Hodgson; Mary, Henry and Paul Smith (from Fort Vermilion) and Mable and Willie George.

The members of the School Board at that time were H.A. George, chairman; W.J. Doherty, secretary, and Johnny Gaudet, treasurer. I was paid $850.00 a year which I thought princely compared with the $600.00 I had received on the prairies. Also, that first year I was made secretary of the school board with an honorarium of $25.00 for that year.

The old minutes book is still in existence, I believe, and it records a pathetically dogged struggle on the part of the school board, and especially Mr. George, to keep the school running. Practically every other meeting ended hopefully with the resolution: "It was resolved that the bank be again contacted regarding the possibility of obtaining another loan." This was usually for the purposed of paying the teacher's salary or buying fuel.

That first six-month term was the last time the ballroom was used as a school room, for as the fall term opened in a new school house - the first built in Peace River for that specific purpose. It was located on what we called "the first bench", just a little south of the where the railroad crosses the road up the Grouard Hill. It had a bell tower with a bell which I believe had originally been in some building in England, and which Mr. George procured.

This school now forms part of the Baptist Church, as when Timothy and Riley's grading outfit came in 1915 to grade the right of way for the railroad it was found to run right through the north east corner of the building, which had to be moved; and in 1916 tenders were called for the building of the old high school which until recently stood on the present site of the Travellers' Motel.

Down the river some distance were the homesteads of Willie George (a brother of H.A. George) and James Hodgson, and I had children from both these homes as pupils.

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly, Part III

Jean Kelly Cameron was the second school teacher in Peace River, arriving in December of 1913. In "I Remember Peace River, Alberta and Adjacent Districts 1800s - 1913 Part I", Cameron recalls her journey to Peace River, her memories of school and how Peace River Crossing looked in 1913. The first installment of the Recollections was published in our first newsletter sent out to our Members. For more membership information, please visit: http://peacerivermuseum.blogspot.com/2008/08/membership-drive-2008.html
call the Museum at 780-624-4261.

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly, Part III

"...Past the Hudson's Bay Post we drove west until we came to the River, passing on the way the Hudson's Bay residence, presently the home of Mrs. Ann Cambridge, which then stood fairly close to the present CKYL building, and just across the road from it stood the whitewashed log building which was the house of the fabulous Captain John Gullion, a riverboat captain, widely known as the strongest man on the Peace River, and tales of his feats of strength were unbelievable. A little farther down the river we passed the little log Anglican church which was then the only Protestant church in the Crossing. The minister was the Reverend Robert Holmes. Captain Magar's handsome Siwash wife (a Dudeward from the British Columbia Coast) was the organist, and often a soloist.

Crossing the river on the ice we drove up the George Hill to Mr. George's homestead. Until recently, when it was purchased by the Department of Highways, it was the Percy Eyre place, and was owned by John Lang-Hodge prior to that. We were welcomed by Mrs. George, the former Louise Auger from Wabasca, and her four children. Three of them Bertie, Alice and Ethel, were pupils of mine, but Emma was a baby in the mossbag.

The next night being New Year's Eve, we all went to the dance, which was held in the dining room of the new log hotel. Mr. George had had his piano moved there for the occasion, and there was a fiddler, also a large crowd of people, both white and native, all of whom seemed to be having a wonderful time. There was a surplus of men so there were no wall-flowers. My foot being too painful to dance, I ended up at the piano accompaning the fiddler for the evening. [NOTE: Miss Kelly's foot had been burned on her way to Peace River by a foot warmer]

At the stroke of twelve, there were twelve revolver shots from outside, whereupon everyone kissed the ones nearest him or her. Mr. George had prepared me for this and also told me that on account of this custom, New Year was called "Kissing Day" by the natives. Some of the ladies I remember at that dance were Mrs. Allan MacKenzie, Mrs. Pierre Gauvreau, Mrs. Anderson (wife of the O.C. of the R.N.W.M.P.), Mrs. H.A. George, Mrs. Willie George, Mrs. Gullion, Mrs. M.R. Upton and Mrs. W.J. Doherty.

On New Year's Day we drove to the home of the M.L.A. for the constituency, Mr. T. Allan Brick, a son of the Reverend Gough Brick, an Anglican missionary who founded the Mission at Shaftesbury about twelve miles up the river. We had a wonderful New Year's dinner there. There was stuffed turkey with vegetables and cranberry sauce and a real English plum pudding. We spent the night there, and I learned the local meaning of the word "camp." It did not mean roughing it in the open or in a tent, it simply meant that you spent the night somewhere. So, we camped at Bricks' that night and the next day drove home and moved across the Peace to Mr. George's town house, a large story and a half house which was destroyed by fire in 1966.

There were four bedrooms upstairs, and the greater part of the downstairs was in one large room, originally used as a sort of ball-room when the factor gave a dance for his trappers in the spring at the conclusion of the fur buying business of the winter. This large room was also my schoolroom, where I taught by day, and at night rolled down my bedroom on the floor behind the stove and slept there. In a couple of weeks one of the upstairs rooms was furnished and set up for my bedroom.

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly

Jean Kelly Cameron was the second school teacher in Peace River, arriving in December of 1913. In "I Remember Peace River, Alberta and Adjacent Districts 1800s - 1913 Part I", Cameron recalls her journey to Peace River, her memories of school and how Peace River Crossing looked in 1913. The first installment of the Recollections was published in our first newsletter sent out to our Members. For more membership information, please visit: http://peacerivermuseum.blogspot.com/2008/08/membership-drive-2008.html

call the Museum at 780-624-4261.

"In the morning I was awakened by a tall Métis who brought me a cup of coffee...He reminded me of Pierre of the Plains. We were soon on the road and at the next stopping place I slept in a bed. A pretty young Métis gave up her own bed to me, with its new rabbit paw robe, a quilt with a filling made of pieces of rabbit paw skins, instead of wool, very cosy (sic) and warm. She told me her name was Pelage Stoney, and that she was sixteen and would soon be married. She asked me if I were married and when I told her no, she asked with great concern how old I was. When I told her twenty-five, a look of distress came over her face and she said commiseratingly, "Oh, that's too bad! But maybe you will find somebody at the Crossing."
The next day we started out on the last day of our trip, out of the unholy Grouard trail, which I later heard described as one of the worst roads in North America. We arrived about dusk December 30th, at the top of the Grouard Hill just east of the Crossing. We slid down the hill into the little community with Bell hanging desperately to the wheel and yelling all the way, "I can't do it! I can't hold it!"
Despite his fears he did it and held it, and the car came to a stop at the telegraph office. Our actual travelling time from Edmonton was twenty-six hours, which was considered good, since we had no lights and could travel only in daylight, of which we had about five and one half hours daily. Also, we were so overloaded that at ever little incline we had to get out and walk...
The telegraph office, the present residence of Mrs. Henry Miller, then stood in very much the same location as the one which was recently removed to become the Friendship Centre. A crowd was waiting to greet the arrivals, interest being equally divided between the car and the new teacher. After looking me over, Harry Coombs (later Captain Coombs, who died of war wounds received in World War I) collected a bet from somebody. He had bet that the new teacher would have blue eyes, as it was his theory that the blue-eyed people were the explorer and adventurer type, and he pointed out that the only white person in this pioneer community who had dark eyes was a young Englishman named George Matthews.
Just east of the telegraph office was the Revillon Freres trading post (later the United Church and presently the Elk’s Hall), whose manager was then William John Doherty. South across the road from these buildings was Johnny Gaudet's pool hall and stopping place, a store and a half log building which occupied approximately the site of the Motor Car Supply Building. As I recall it there were no other buildings as we proceeded west until we came to the Hudson’s Bay Post, the building which was recently wrecked to make way for the Campsall Block. The Hudson’s Bay factor at that time was Mr. Gamlin, the first of the two Gamlin brothers who successively served as factors here.
North across the street from the Hudson’s Bay Post a three story log building was under construction on the present Firestone location. This was H.A. George’s “New Peace Hotel.” There was nothing but woodland north of this on Main Street. Turning south, the Old Peace Hotel stood where the Eaton Building now stands, and on the south side of the present location of the Stedmans store was a rambling frame building which was the store of the third trading company in the Crossing, the Peace River Trading and Land Company, colloquially known as the “Diamond P” from the brand placed on their freight – a Capital P enclosed in a diamond shape. The manager of this company was then Phillip Godsell.
Behind the Diamond P was the Maple Leaf Restaurant, where Jim Lonsdale was the chef, and in this building was [where] the first telegraph set had been set up on a packing case. However, when I arrived it had been installed in the regular telegraph office, Pierre Gauvreau being the first operator.
Farther south and east, out on the point where the Heart [River] joins the Peace stood two old log buildings, which I heard referred to as the old Revillon warehouses; however, at a later date Jim Cornwall told me that they had been the warehouses built by his own company, Bredin and Cornwall. At the time of my arrival they were housing the first bank in Peace River, the Canadian Bank of Commerce; the manager was Allan MacKenzie, whose first customer had been Pierre Gauvreau.
South across the Heart from these buildings stood the tower of the Government Ferry. As well as I can remember, this was the extent of the business section at this time – there was nothing at all on the east side of Main Street that first day I came down the Grouard Hill.”

Recollections of Jean Cameron Kelly: Part II