My Hall Grandparents

This passed week I've been down with a nasty headcold. I'd like to think I got it in my doctor's office on my last visit but it could have come from anywhere. Perhaps someone at  my cognitive behaviourial group (I belong to a healthy weights program) was harbouring it  specially for me. Truth be told, I probably got it on the bus or subway amidst the throngs of rush hour commuters. But enough about my misery...

Grandfather: Frederick Edward Hall, born 1892 in Scotland; died 1957 in Toronto
Previously I mentioned my Grandfather Hall was an alcoholic. I know little to nothing about Grandpa's younger life but he must have always been a drinker and got worse as he aged. I heard a rumour that he somehow caused his wife to fall down a flight of stairs. She was pregnant and died soon after. In 1933 there wasn't much could
be done with a hemorhaging pregnant female.
Eventually Grandpa Fred ended up in the Fred Victor Mission in Toronto and I believe he died while staying there.  When Dad was a young married man, he and his brother Don decided to visit. Dad took some new clothes to him, something he could ill afford with 2 toddler children at home. After their visit they were chatting in the car and out came Grandpa with the bag of clothes under his arm. He was on his way to sell them for money to buy booze. My Dad  was very hurt by that. What child wouldn't be. Long story short, Grandpa was a severe alcoholic who drank after shave lotion if there was nothing else. Whether or not one should speak ill of the dead and regardless of the fact I never knew him  there little about this man to like.

Grandmother: Mary Elizabeth Osborne born 1893 Magnetawan, Ontario; died April 1933 in Peterborough, Ontario.                        She must have been an angel.

MY DAD

Francis Robert HALL - Frank, passed away in November of 2003 but he wasn't well for some time prior to that so he was my inspiration to find information on the Hall's. I'll begin this blogging journey with a tribute to Dad that was read at his memorial service, by a good friend Frank Macfie.

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Born November 24, 1930 in Peterborough, Ontario, Dad was the youngest child of Frederick Edward Hall and Mary Elizabeth Osborne. His mother passed away when he was only 3 years old. His father was an alcoholic and incapable of keeping three children under the age of seven years so eventually they were fostered by their Mother's parents, Robert and Lucinda Osborne. From there Dad was taken in by his mother's sister Jane and her husband John Moore. The three youngest children, my Dad Frank, his brother Elmer and his sister Geraldine were raised in separate homes.

It gave me great pleasure to research the Hall Family and find some roots for my Dad. I sent information by e-mail to Mom and she printed it off for Dad to look at it. He was always very interested, especially when I sent some photos of his father as a young man and another of his grandmother that a kind and generous cousin shared with me.

I interviewed Dad for the family history and he told me the story of how he came to live with Aunt Jane and Uncle Jack. It seems that when he was 7 or 8 years old he did something bad (he didn't say what) and knowing he was in big trouble and that Grandma Osborne was rather heavy handed when she metered out punishment, he ran away from home. He was headed for Toronto but decided to hide out in Uncle Jack's barn. Two Uncles discovered him there but Dad wouldn't come out so they called the "Foster Children's" agent. Uncle Jack said that Dad wasn't going anywhere that he could stay with them. That finally coaxed him out of the barn and he lived on the farm for many years.

Dad loved his Aunt Jane but he REALLY loved his Uncle Jack. He told many stories about living on the farm - about the old Billy goat that chased anyone that came near and how that goat bunted Uncle Jack in the rear end while he was carrying a pail of milk. It's not hard to imagine the outcome of that story. He told me of a clucker hen that annoyed Uncle Jack one particular day so he covered her with a pail then forgot that she was there until it was too late. He told me about Uncle Jack's steam engine and the shingle mill and how Uncle Jack was a source of employment for several people.

I asked Mom how she met Dad and she said she thinks the first time she saw him was in Jim Dobbs' store and he just might have been one of the bad little boys that took some candy and ran out the door. When I mentioned it to Dad he just grinned. Regardless of her first impression, Joan WHITMELL and Frank HALL were married some years later in 1951 and had four children. We always felt safe and we knew both parents loved us. Their love for each other was evident. Dad left most of the disciplining to Mom who said he might have given each of us one spanking but that was it. I think it hurt his feelings more than it hurt our backsides.

I can remember on different occasions, asking Dad for 25 cents, which at that time would buy a bag of chips and a pop. He would dig in his pocket, pull out a dime and maybe a piece of pocket lint, and hold it out in his hand. With a long, sad face he'd say, "This is all I have, you better ask your Mother." Of course, I felt sorry for even asking him then but I'm surprised he didn't wear that dime out because I think he used the same one almost every time I asked for money. I learned many years later that he used the same trick on all of us. We were quite often more lucky asking Mom.

Dad was good to his children but not just his own. There were many times that he offered solace and advice to our friends as well. Sometimes they received a place to stay in our home if it was needed. Dad used to chaperone some of our Teen Dances down at the old school house. Sometimes he would have to break up a fist fight and sometimes he would try to help fix a broken heart AND, he was a daunting figure to any older boys who would attempt to crash our parties. They all called him MR. HALL. Dad's bark was mostly worse than his bite but I guess we were the only ones that knew that.

Dad loved music and I know it was a source of joy to him that I could play the piano and Ralph, the guitar. Mom told me Dad tried to learn to play the fife and wasn't very successful. He also could play a bit on the banjo and the mandolin and I can remember him playing the big bass drum after the 12th of July parade but he never really had time to practice any instrument. If he wasn't working to feed his family and keep a roof over our heads, he was busy fixing his car, or someone else's. It seemed that Dad could fix almost anything from cars to broken toys. After he retired, Phil and Leslie made a sign for his garage that said, Frank's Friendly Fix-It Factory. He hung it with pride.

As much as he loved his children, his four grandchildren were his pride and joy and they all loved their Poppa back without reserve.

Always community minded Dad served as a School Board Trustee, on the Town Council, the Recreation Committee, as a charter member and president of the Lion's club and was instrumental in getting the Pavilion built at the Community Centre. Dad's work took him in many directions. At the age of 37 he went back to school and became a welder. He was a service station manager, a bus driver, the milkman, a welder for Macklam and then C.I.L.

When Dad first became ill, it was almost unbelievable to us. He had always been such a strong man  but his health continued to decline over a period of six years and as hard as it was for us, we finally had to face the inevitable. But even in his weakened state, he could tell a good joke and always tried to make us laugh.

Finally I want to thank Mom for being such a devoted and loving spouse and for all the care she gave Dad through his illness.... ... I miss you Dad and I love you.