Dancing In a Jar

by Poynter Adele

As ever,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  January 30, 1934

  Dear Ivah,

  So happy to get your letter and I hope studies are going well.

  I had to write you today because I know everyone wonders how I fill my days, yet I can’t imagine being any busier than I am right now.

  I think I told you I have met two sisters my age, Gertie and Ena Farrell. They come calling most afternoons to go for a walk if the weather allows or just to sit and chat. They are both gifted piano players and sometimes we spend an hour playing and singing. They are very worldly given their isolation here and I continue to be amazed by this. I am hoping once Don is finished with the new sewing machine that we can use it to rework some clothes into the latest fashions.

  Last night, Mrs. Giovannini and I went calling to the neighbors and found there was a party at the house and what a party it was! The house looked dark from the outside, and inside there were about thirty young people—all good dancers. We danced square dances for hours then ate partridge soup, homemade bread and butter, three kinds of delicious cake and tea. Around one in the morning, we started playing games, and at three a.m. we were having the last square dance!

  Don and Mr. G knew the time we got home and I’m sure we will never hear the end of our short visit at the neighbor’s.

  As much as I love being here with the Giovanninis, I am looking forward to getting our own house. I want to establish some good patterns early in our married life and to take care of my own nest. Siebert had promised to build us one, but now this snow is firmly on the ground and I don’t see that happening.

  By the way, snow that falls here stays until the end of spring. It doesn’t get pushed or removed and everyone accepts the isolation, as they do the cold. I sometimes wonder if the lack of questioning and simple acceptance doesn’t lead everyone to greater happiness.

  Hope you are finding lots of happiness these days and I look forward to new reports on this William character.

  Lots of love from your very busy sister,

  U

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  February 15, 1934

  Dear Mother and Daddy,

  I haven’t heard much news from either of you, so I hope that means you are okay but the post office is simply shut down! Here we don’t have to worry about that because it’s simply a matter of bringing your mail to the coastal boat. In fact it is in the harbor at the moment, so I hope you don’t mind that I will be quick with my requests.

  First, I have learned to turn the heel on a sock, so I am ready to go to greater production. Would you mind sending me some 4-ply wool in navy or gray so I can continue with my newfound passion? Don finds the local wool to be a little too scratchy for his tender American feet!

  Second, I have taken on a small group of girls in a reading circle and I’m in desperate need for some books to pass around. I have five bright young women who were forced to leave school early to take care of their siblings, in some cases due to the death of their mother. I can’t imagine their double tragedy. Two of them, Florence and Kathleen Etchegary, told me their father simply said, “Today will be your last day at school so pack up your desk and bring it home in your book bag.” No more warnings than this. They told me they walked home around the harbor with their heavy book bag hitting their legs, and with every step they cried.

  They are so keen to learn and I love their company. Don comes along and plays cribbage with their father while I gather the girls to read aloud, discuss and dream about wherever the book takes us. I’m wondering about anything by F. Scott Fitzgerald? But really anything you can find (perhaps ask at the church?) would be appreciated at this end.

  Our mail is already causing great wonder at the post office so that will really add to our sense of mystery. Miss Fewer, the postmistress, can always tell me who wrote to us before we even get the letters! She studies the post-mark and return address and the handwriting with great ambition. She’s a grand old lady who has been very good to us.

  Don has gone over to Little St. Lawrence today to survey. He has a wonderful day for it—as the air is warm and the sun bright. On days like this, the combination of beautiful sky, snow covered hills, and deep blue water makes me wish that I could paint. Today the harbor is almost covered with ice, but it has broken into big pieces around the shore and boats can enter alright. This area doesn’t usually see icebergs, but apparently a few years ago a huge one floated past the entrance to the harbor and caused some anxious moments.

  I took small Blanche for a walk yesterday with our usual supply of lollipops to aid our mountain climbing. Before long we had an invitation to ride on a “slide.” The passengers sit on a crossboard, rest their feet on the runners, the driver shouts, and away the horse runs with us holding on and squealing with delight. I had forgotten how much fun winter can be.

  I hear there were two engagements over Christmas! Betty and Sam are going to be married in February, and John and Edna sometime in early June. It must be catching.

  Lovingly,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence Corporation Ltd.

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  February 20, 1934

  Dear Mom and Pop,

  I can hardly see out the windows as I write. We have a hard southeast wind and snow blowing in every direction, shutting down the town. Of course that means no work today at the mine, so I am enjoying a very rare day off.

  I have such a good crew with me that we have been working Sundays and around the clock. Even with this weather, we are hoping to have the final shipment of ore on the dock by mid-March. That should make Siebert happy and finally bring some money into this operation.

  I am in a real bind waiting for Siebert to deliver on the men’s wages. I am assuming the lack of news from you means my account has not been topped up either. He has already written that our house, the putative house, is looking unlikely this year. I haven’t told Urla yet.

  At least he delivered on the pumps and piping, so things are going very well on the work front. In early April I’ll be going into St. John’s for a meeting of all mining interests in Newfoundland. There are a couple of big companies, American Smelting and Refining Company is in the center of the island mining copper and zinc; and there’s a big iron ore operation near St. John’s. Of course, these are all major companies and no one will be there in the bush league like us.

  Thanks for including that sewing machine as we have cobbled together oilcloth into decent coveralls for the men. Urla is after me to buy yards of French lace when I am next in Saint Pierre so she and her friends can adorn their clothes. I am as surprised as she is to find a strong sense of fashion in this isolated spot. We’ve met many people who project a cultured air despite having nothing. Urla likes to say that around here a sense of dignity is baked right into the bread.

  Thanks for the news, Pop, on the Vincent Methodist church. I cannot believe it will be celebrating one hundred years. However, I don’t see me contributing to the cause until Siebert pays me.

  Thanks for sending a Christmas box to Saint Pierre. Just when we will be able to get there depends on the weather and believe me we are in the throes of a real winter. Yesterday the mercury in our thermometer went into the bulb and has yet to come back! My only casualty was a pair of frozen ears and I was surprised to find out how warm snow feels when you place it on the frozen parts.

  This weather has been really playing havoc at the mine. Water is still our biggest problem and you get a lot of freeze and thaw here. In the middle of a big cold snap last week, the wind shifted to SSE and along came the rain. The water started to run like a river and then three hours later it froze. You can now skate from here to the mine.

  We have had some swell fish to eat, fresh frozen herring. They are caught about thirty miles from us in Fortune Bay. Apparently, they caught an octopus in the herring net the other day that took the world’s record for size. I hope we don’t have that on our plate tomorrow night! Of course th
ere are families here that would welcome anything on the dinner plate. The rations here are exactly $1.80 worth of food for a month, and that includes three things: tea, flour, molasses. Getting yeast is next to impossible, so I have no idea how bread is made here every day in mind-boggling quantities. My guess is no one would be surviving here without the supplies that come in from Saint Pierre.

  Now there’s a place that feels very prosperous. I’m not sure how much I wrote you after my first trip there, but it felt like a different world. I knew it was French but I wasn’t expecting it to be like a part of the mother country that was sliced off and placed off the coast of Newfoundland. Right from the beret on the head to the long stick of French bread under the arm, it is how I imagine any French town.

  The Prohibition has been good for the French, but now of course they have to turn back to the fishery. In the meantime, there seems to be a lot of money going around. There are paved roads, shops bursting with merchandise, and good restaurants—all in a place a tenth the size of Nutley. I found people to be friendly and charming. Not many could speak English, but when the rum and whiskey started flowing, curiously so did the conversation.

  Howard’s gift of the Sunday Herald Tribune has been greatly appreciated. Of course the news is old, but there is such a wealth of other material that Urla and I keep it for Sunday nevertheless and share it with whomever we can. We fight over the comics first and even devour the ads. Oh, speaking of ads, here is one Urla saw in our friend Dinah’s store: “Frozen herring selling here.”

  On that note, I will end this and hope you are all doing well.

  As ever,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  March 10, 1934

  Dear Ivah,

  I have to write someone today or else go pound my pillow senseless. I finally got some truth from Don about Siebert and his promises. It was becoming too painful to watch Don’s face as he became aware of having been outmaneuvered by Siebert.

  First, I found out the house he promised to have built for us won’t be happening until the fall and I have my doubts about that. Then, when I asked about building our own, Don admitted we have not been paid a nickel yet. Yet Don has been working so hard to keep the men motivated and there is a stockpile of ore growing on the wharf every day.

  I wish I could do more to comfort him, but he does seem to be handling it well. In the small hours of the morning I can get some truth about the mine. Otherwise, he wears the party line like a mask from dusk to dawn.

  Then it became even worse. Last week I was out for a walk and took a ride with the driver bringing the ore wagon back to the mine (the ore is brought from the mine site to the wharf by a big sled pulled by oxen). It was a beautiful ride until I got to the mine. I was hoping to surprise Don, but it is me who was surprised. There is very little there even just to take shelter from the weather. I at least thought there was a place for them to eat or change, and the men looked miserable and dirty. I came out as quickly as I could on the next run and didn’t even tell Don I was there. I really wonder how anyone can work in conditions like that, and there is a part of me that feels ashamed.

  So here is my letter of moaning to entertain you in your dorm room. On the positive side, we have been going for evening walks, unless the weather is truly forbidding. I swear the winter nights here are so crisp and clear that stars multiply right in front of your eyes. The layers and folds and intensity of all those tiny lights lift my spirits immensely.

  There—I no longer need to punch my pillow. Thanks, dear Sis, for listening.

  Love,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  March 22, 1934

  Darling Daddy,

  Your package arrived on today’s boat and I tore it open like Christmas morning. The Good Earth is a perfect choice for my little group and they will be thrilled to have a copy each. I’ll make sure they are well circulated after we are finished. Please tell Mother I won’t write about any more adventures if she is going to become anxious and worried. Being on a slide would hardly qualify here as adventurous, let alone dangerous. Mother needs my friend Laurette’s wise counsel: “Glory be to God, girl, ‘tis only a bit of fun.”

  I’m glad you received my valentines. We had lots of fun here on Valentine’s Day. The Giovannini children were preparing for it weeks ahead—Walter made thirty-six valentines. I drew some cartoons with poems for each child and dressed some lollipops in skirts and trousers. The six girls here for the card party helped dress up some pillows in Don’s clothes. We put the figure in a chair, placed an antique Chinese pipe in the mouth, and waited for Don to discover his double. He got a good laugh from our antics.

  Thank you for the chocolate too. I will ask Leonis to run this letter straight to the Glencoe so you can know I received your generous gift.

  Love,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence Corporation Ltd.

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  March 25, 1934

  Dear Pop,

  Mother has written to say you will be closing your New York sales office at the end of March. I know this is a blow, but I suspect a lot of small companies have pulled in their horns in this Depression. Maybe you can find something suitable near Nutley so you’ll still have a place to escape Mom’s chore list.

  Pulling in horns is the order of the day around here. In fact, the Government of Newfoundland has just been replaced by a Commission, established by Britain, to get our financial affairs in order. Nobody seems very happy about this and it does seem rather colonial and high-handed, but the truth is a quarter of the place is on the dole. People are hungry and will do anything for a dollar.

  For some people this has chiselled away at their self-respect but not everyone. I am always amazed at how many people are clinging to at least that.

  Speaking of self-respect, I barely managed to hold onto mine the other day. I took a small team surveying on a beautiful clear day. We were crossing a small harbor when the wind changed, leaving us stranded about twenty feet from shore. One minute we were on solid ice and fifteen minutes later we found ourselves afloat on small ice pans. One of the men slipped off the ice and I had to fish him out with the transit tripod. In the end, it was a case of sink or swim so swim we did. It was only ten yards but a cold ten yards with all of our equipment with us. Of course, I asked if everyone could swim and all three assured me they could. They just didn’t mention that they swam like cats.

  We followed the telegraph poles home and I was sure pleased to get in the door. As luck would have it, there was a bottle of Saint Pierre’s best in the house. The next day I woke up without even a cold in the head but a mighty fine hangover.

  Both of us are feeling in perfect health and despite the cold have had no complaints or aches and pains. Urla has gained weight and I have lost it. Averaging about eight miles a day by Shank’s mare back and forth to the mine has kept me very fit. Urla walks every day too, but then finds a house with fresh bread and jam and something good to talk about.

  Hope this finds everybody thriving at your end too. I guess this will be all for the present and I will make a concerted effort to get off a longer letter for the next boat.

  As ever,

  Donald

  . . . . . . . . . . . .

  Dear Mother,

  I will enclose a quick note for you with my message to Pop.

  I am sorry you are troubled by some of the outstanding debts. Believe me, so am I. Siebert’s promises are wearing pretty thin, but I am hoping that once this shipment of ore is paid for I can finally get paid. I had no idea I would be this long getting a paycheck from him. I only just found out from Doc Smith that he has not been paid by Siebert for eight months. I can’t imagine his situation as he has eight children in Germany. All will be fine when the ore sells, but now with the ice in, we are hard up against it until the weather changes.

  I have written everyone we owed when we left explaining our circumstances. Bambergs is the biggest and t
hey seem okay waiting until the end of April. Everything we bought there will be put to good use when we finally get our own house. It all seems like an extravagance now—especially the bathroom fittings since there is no pipe to go with it. My biggest debt, of course, is for the transit and I have let them know it will be paid in full in due course.

  Insurance and taxes at Wayne Place will have to wait, I’m afraid. I have asked Edith to send me the details on the City Opera and I am committed to helping her when I can.

  This is the situation for now. Urla wants to order some seeds and we cannot even do that. So we all have to be patient and hope that Siebert comes through soon.

  As ever,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence Corporation Ltd.

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  March 31, 1934

  Dear Mom, Pop and all the crew,

  I’m writing much earlier than I expected but it’s been a banner day in St. Lawrence. The steamer has made it through to pick up 1,840 tons of fluorspar for Nova Scotia. It’s been one hell of an effort, but here we are. The men are proud and Doc and I are proud. We are all exhausted.

  It’s been fascinating to watch the piles of spar grow on the wharf. People come down just to pick it up and look at the beauty of each piece. There is every shade from pale pink and yellow, right through to bright green. We all come home from the mine so wet and dirty it seems inconceivable that we could be mining something so beautiful. I picked a particularly brilliant piece I hope to have made into a pendant for Urla.

  The town turned out en masse to watch the loading operation. We laid down rails for the little cars to haul the fluorspar right into the hull. Now keep your fingers crossed that DOSCO will be happy.

  That’s it from my corner of the world today.

  As ever,

  Donald

  TELEGRAPH

  TO DA POYNTER

  APRIL 3 1934

  ST LAWRENCE NEWFOUNDLAND

  MONEY HAS BEEN WIRED TO BANK OF NOVA SCOTIA

  WATER STREET STOP DOSCO HAPPY STOP GOOD TO GO