Dancing In a Jar

by Poynter Adele

  On that unsettled note, I will finish this and get it to the mail boat for tomorrow.

  All my love to you three,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  July 4, 1935

  Dear Mom and Pop,

  Happy Fourth of July to you all! No holiday here for us, of course, and I’ve just come home for lunch. We have been so busy at the mine and the new mill that I have been getting home late every evening. Urla has been patient, but I thought I would not push my luck and came home early today.

  She insists that we have Sunday afternoon together no matter if the mine is falling in on itself. We walk up behind our house a little ways and set up our picnic. I usually fish for trout in the little brook and Urla gathers handfuls of wildflowers. She has given up trying to teach me their names, so now she’s working on Barbara, who frankly looks more interested in my fishing than the flowers. She is very much her Daddy’s girl.

  Urla is just putting Barbara down for a nap and then lying down herself. She has been getting more headaches than I remember but waves me off and says it’s nothing. Now that school is out there are lots of young girls to come by and take Barbara for an afternoon walk, so that is helping Urla to rest.

  I have sent two silver fox pelts home for Mom and Edith. I’m sure if Pop takes them into the city you can find a good furrier in the rag trade to make them into whatever you want. In fact, why not ask Sol Allan up the street? He is bound to have good contacts.

  We have a new fellow in town and the young women have gone mad. The Commission Government has established a new police force for the outports called the Newfoundland Ranger Force. Robert Tilley is quite a handsome lad, tall and well built, but I’m not sure he could do much against any man in this town. They have a lot of duties, so we will see how is all goes. Mostly the young women are thrilled at the chance of a new dance partner!

  Hope you are all enjoying a good day at the beach and old glory is flying high.

  Love from Urla and me,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  July 31, 1935

  Dear Mom, Pop, Howard, Vi, and Edith,

  Don tells me you have been having a wonderful summer at Oak Beach. I can picture you all there with the sun on the water and the warm sand under your feet. I laugh at the memory of us trying to coax King into the ocean a couple of years ago and he having no part of it. I hope you’re having better luck this year.

  Barbara’s first experience of a sandy beach couldn’t be further from Oak Beach. There is a beautiful sheltered cove with a full sand beach just north of St. Lawrence. When the weather is warm and the women can steal a few hours from the never-ending work of summer, a group of them will come calling, children in tow, and off we go to Shoal Cove. Usually we get a ride in the back of the mine truck or someone’s horse and wagon.

  What a beautiful spot it is. The dunes are ringed by masses of blue and yellow irises and a river runs through them down to the sea. The water is very shallow and unbelievably cold. I’ve been in up to my knees, but when everything goes blue I figure it’s time to get out!

  We all settle in one area and out come blankets and picnics. The children usually wear underwear (not sure if anyone here has a bathing suit) and often keep their wool sweaters on top. They dash into the waves, scream with delight as the freezing water hits their white ankles, and run back up to their mothers. The women sit on rough old wool blankets, smoking or chatting with bandannas tied on their heads to keep the wind at bay. Barbara sits in amongst them all, usually licking the molasses off someone’s fresh bread, and kept entertained by watching everyone.

  It’s a wonderful scene. I’ve decided that something about the beach makes people happy and it doesn’t seem to matter what the temperature is. In fact, I’m starting to wonder whether they find the bracing water here more satisfying than we find Oak Beach. Or maybe these people simply find everything more satisfying.

  My garden is coming along although slowly. At least I have learned my lesson not to plant anything with a long growing season. Don still kids me about last year’s dwarf corn and green tomatoes. He says this year everything will come out in perfect size for Barbara, which I think is an insult to how big I can grow things! I hope to show him wrong.

  So stay tuned for more garden news.

  In the meantime, we send lots of love from our beach to yours.

  As ever,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  August 17, 1935

  Dear Ivah,

  I was so happy to hear from you last week. Your trip to Sandy Hook with John and his parents sounded lovely. Is it as serious as it sounds? Do Mother and Daddy like him? I haven’t heard anything about him from home, so that may be a good or bad thing! I hope you are happy, dear one.

  The air is getting cooler here and I’m afraid that signals an early close to summer. I enjoyed a wonderful long walk this morning while Barbara was looked after by a neighbor girl. I was roaming the beach hoping to find a message in a bottle. I would dearly love to find one containing some classified military information or a lover’s poem or an SOS. Maybe I’ll prepare one myself and send it on its way.

  No sooner was I thinking that when I came up on some dead creatures on the beach. There in front of me was a seal and a sheep on the same stretch—one thrown up from the sea and the other having fallen into it, meeting here in an incongruous fashion. Did they meet before they died? Exchange glances? Exchange pleas for help? Perhaps they comforted each other. I would love to know their story.

  We have just finished supper and Don is home early tonight for a change. He is working so hard and thankfully has finished some long overdue improvements at the mine site. I don’t like to talk to him about work too much, but it was truly awful that the men had no toilet facilities or change rooms. So that is some improvement.

  Write me more about this special John when you can. Barbara sends her Aunt Vivi big delicious hugs, as do I.

  Love,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  August 31, 1935

  Dear Mom and Pop,

  I realize my correspondence has been slow, but we are going full throttle with this operation while the weather is good and I have time for little else.

  Turns out my salmon fishing trip at the end of July will have to be my only one for the year. Thankfully it was a fruitful one and, Pop, I can’t wait to take you to the Cape Roger river. I caught a couple of twelve pound beauties, and on our last day we hit a run of smaller ones making their way to the head of the river. They gave quite the fight, but in the end we won. Urla was very pleased to have fresh salmon for a few days. By the way, Barbara now eats everything we do, with twice the appetite.

  If Siebert can clinch the deal with the Wilmington steel companies I’m hoping for a raise and then I will treat myself to a new rod for next season.

  I’m a little concerned about Urla’s health. She is still getting headaches and the other night seemed quite lost during our regular game of bridge. She isn’t worried and says it is just fatigue. That doc from the next community will be in town next week and I will get him to have a look at her. I know you sometimes see the Crammonds at church, but please don’t mention anything to them. I don’t want to alarm them unnecessarily.

  Otherwise, we three are doing well. The fresh salt air agrees with Barbara and she is thriving. We can’t wait for her to start talking as she is surrounded by children who say “tings” and “tink.” You might have to get a translator for when we visit.

  The mail boat is coming more often now, so you should receive this in jig time. Hope you all have a good last weekend at the beach.

  As ever,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  September 1, 1935

  Hello Mother,

  Barbara and I are making jam today and it made me think of doing the same with you when I was little. I remember fresh raspberries and red currants a
nd you straining the jelly through cheesecloth.

  Our operation is a little rougher here and I have to admit that putting Barbara on quality control was probably not a good idea. We are making blueberry and partridgeberry jam with every berry picked by us, and a few twigs and leaves for good measure. Berry picking is a major affair here with the kids going with their pickers, older ones with their dippers, and adults with buckets and flour sacks.

  I buy my bread from a neighbor since I simply can’t make it like any woman in town. I can tell you there is no better taste than her warm bread, fresh butter, and our jam. I may send some home for Christmas so you can give me your opinion.

  I wonder if you could look around my old bedroom for the scarf you gave me when we first left Brooklyn? I can’t find it anywhere, so I may have it there. Please let me know as I am worried about it.

  I’m glad you both like John, and I hope this one stays around longer then a month! Ivah seems very happy.

  Love to you both,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  September 12, 1935

  Dear Ivah,

  I had to quickly write you. I walked along the beach this morning and what do you think I found? A message in a bottle. My heart raced as I sat on a rock and opened it. Wouldn’t you know it was my own message, sent a few weeks ago and now come right back to me. So much for it being found by a handsome Greek sailor.

  Love,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  September 26, 1935

  Dear Mom and Pop,

  Thanks for continuing the subscription to the Herald Tribune. We have both enjoyed all the reading within. Coupled with our nightly radio broadcasts, we are becoming the town source for news. Events in Europe are looking worrisome, but I’m glad to hear Roosevelt’s New Deal is finally showing results at home.

  Pop’s new office in Philadelphia sounds like the right move for the times. I guess it was there you met Dan Rayburn. He wrote me a peppy letter about new work opportunities in civil. I told him to keep me in the loop, but right now I’m up to my neck in mining engineering and couldn’t be happier.

  Urla has become a master plucker! Mrs. Annie Turpin came to her rescue when I brought home twenty-six partridge on the weekend. I joined a couple of local men and a visiting doctor for a few days on the barrens and we were rewarded handsomely. We had good weather too and spent long days covering the bogs and outcrops. Urla didn’t look too pleased when I landed back at the house with a bag of birds under my arm. Now she has the trick for plucking and made a delicious stew yesterday.

  I have an opportunity to hunt caribou in November. A hundred caribou licenses were issued to Americans last year and they have been coming here since 1904 to hunt. I would love to join a group and get my first caribou.

  Our doctor friend gave Urla a good going over and can’t find anything obvious to explain her symptoms. The big worry here is tuberculosis and Newfoundland has had a disproportionate number of cases. They just opened up a diagnostic lab in St. John’s if we need it. But he checked out her lungs and they seemed clear to him. Hopefully it will resolve itself. She is being her normal stoic self about it all.

  Barbara is thriving and we feel certain she will walk before her first birthday. She sends love to her grandparents.

  Love to all from us,

  Donald

  245 Hillside Avenue

  Nutley, New Jersey

  October 12, 1935

  Dear Urla,

  Your father went into the drugstore very early this morning (in fact it was still dark out) so I have some free time for letter writing. He is working so hard still and they seem to have trouble attracting another pharmacist to work outside the city. All the new graduates want to be in the bright lights of New York.

  On the other hand, Hoffman-La Roche is moving to a spot just outside Nutley. They will be producing thousands of medicines in that plant, so we will probably have lots of young families around the place then.

  Dorothy and Bill were here over the weekend. Edward is walking, talking, and into everything. He is a charming little boy although he looks like Bill.

  We commented that we hadn’t heard much from you for the past six weeks. Dorothy mentioned something about headaches that I did not know you were experiencing. Your father will send something up to you to help as I imagine you have no access to drugs. I hope Donald is taking good care of you.

  I am not sure what you are referring to when you say you left your scarf here. There is nothing in your room, but I will let you know if something turns up.

  We are heading into the city on the weekend to hear the symphony and have dinner out. Porgy and Bess has just started its run on Broadway, but I can’t get your father interested in anything but orchestral music. At least he did not mention bringing Granny Crammond, so it should be a real treat.

  Write soon with some news from your end. I do hope the headaches have subsided.

  Love,

  Mother

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  October 30, 1935

  Dear Mother and Dad,

  Your letter arrived in good time, Mother. I hope you both enjoyed your concert and dinner in the city. I miss large orchestral works although I have surprised myself at how well the accordion sounds with the violin.

  I don’t remember asking you to look for my scarf, but maybe my handwriting was sloppy. You must remember all those poor marks on my report cards!

  We have already had a light dusting of snow, so winter may well be coming early to us this year. Last week we dug the last of potatoes, carrots, and turnip from the Poynter garden! I’m so pleased with the fruits of our labors.

  This week I attended my first “wake.” There is no funeral home in town, so the dead are kept in their own home and everyone comes to pay their respects. This is no quiet reserved affair! There is music and laughter and storytelling with lots to eat, and more importantly, drink. Every now and then a group will fall to their knees and everyone recites prayers together, usually working their prayer beads like knitting needles. Children run about, except right around the deceased, and it feels very much like a celebration. Sometimes a two or three day celebration! Then the priest comes and the body is taken to the church for a final mass and burial.

  I have to admit that at first I was shocked by the lack of solemnity. But before I knew it I had a drink in my hand, listening to a story about the deceased. Before long this kind of send-off felt very appropriate. Even though this person had spent his life in a small community with a small circle of friends doing very small things, this kind of a raucous send-off means his life did not look small in the end. I think it is a very beautiful way to leave this world.

  My love to you both,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  November 5, 1935

  Dear Ivah,

  I was waiting for the Argyle yesterday. When it rounded the Cape, I almost burst with anticipation of your visit—your first visit to our corner of the world.

  I fell into a heap when everything and everyone was unloaded and you weren’t there. You couldn’t have missed the boat, but what happened to you? You told me you would be here.

  I have so many plans for us when you come. The boat arrives in the early afternoon, so I thought we would immediately head for the church to light a candle in thanks for your safe passage. School isn’t out yet, so we can go watch the oldest students prepare for the upcoming concert. They are performing “Julius Caesar.” The Sisters will be busy teaching, so you will have to wait to meet them. From there, we will hurry to catch the post office before it closes. Miss. Fewer will be anxious to put a face to your handwriting and I’ve already told her you would be visiting.

  Then we have to hurry along and catch Mr. Louis before he eats an early dinner. We will have a glass of his homemade blueberry wine and hear a couple of stories before we pop into the telephone office to say hello to Kathleen or Florence. We won’t stay long b
ecause Mrs. G won’t hear tell of us not stopping in for tea and partridgeberry duff.

  Then it’s only two doors to our house where Don and Barbara will be waiting. He will likely be standing proudly next to his partridge stew.

  Oh Ivah, I’ve been waiting for the Argyle to come around the Cape.

  Love,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence Corporation Ltd.

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  November 9, 1935

  Dear Walter,

  I trust you received my monthly report sent out last week.

  I am requesting leave from the mine for about a month. I am concerned about Urla’s health and would like to bring her to the U.S. for medical attention.

  I have full confidence in Celestine Giovannini to oversee operations at the mine, and Louis Etchegary has good control on the mill. There should be no interruption in filling orders.

  Please advise as soon as possible and I will make travel arrangements. I must mention I received my latest statement from the Wayne Bank. I see the raise we agreed to effective July 1 has not been put into effect. My expenses may well be increased now and I would appreciate it if you could rectify this.

  Best regards,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  November 11, 1935

  Dear Ivah,

  Don won’t let me go to greet the boat anymore. I am so worried that you will arrive without me here to guide you through the town. I don’t want you to start your visit without your compass set properly. You see, dear Sis, that’s what happened to me. Nothing looks it, but it’s a very big town.

  Don’t be fooled by the obvious. In truth, I am ashamed of my apprehensions when we first arrived in St. Lawrence. How could my view of isolation be so distorted? How could I not have known that you can be poor and rich at the same time?

  You see, behind the door of every small house is such an enormous amount of life. Every room holds legions of stories. Every person is twice their size when they pick up an instrument. At first, their talents will seem humble. And then it is you that is humbled. Every mother has raised ten million children. And outside, every path has been worn by a few hundred years of feet and hooves. When you are on the top of the Cape, it doesn’t seem possible that the ocean can be that blue and that vast.