We all have nostalgic visions of the small town where we grew up, embracing the vivid memories of the institutions there that helped shape our lives. I was scanning some old photographs, and sad to say, they capture a moment that's gone forever. Lois Lowry said, "The worst part of holding memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness; memories need to be shared." I will share some of my memories of growing up in Old Perlican, with a population, in 1945, of approximately 650. The Russell Hall, built in 1932, named in honor of the then settled minister Rev. H. Russell, was a wooden structure consisting of a primary, as well as an elementary classroom on the lower level. On the second level the high- school classroom had folding doors which provided added space to the adjoining hall or auditorium with a stage at the far end. The hall holds more hallowed memories because of the public gatherings held there. The annual Christmas concert was most notable. Students would be all lined up for the opening number with strict instructions not to move, only to start swaying to and fro, as a teacher tried to play "Up On The Housetop" on an old pump organ. As part of an Elementary exercise what we were going to be as adults, I borrowed my cousin's violin to demonstrate, " When I grow up to be a man, a fiddler I shall be." The concert was usually held on December 18. I still have strong mental images of events subsequent to the conclusion of the one in 1944. It was quite stormy with strong winds and blinding snow as my mother and I wended our way home. The next day, we received the sad news that put a pall on the whole community. The schooner Mollie had gone ashore at neighboring Grates Cove with five crewmembers from Carmanville, plus a passenger from Musgrave Harbour, lost. A few days later my uncle from Grates Cove demonstrated in our kitchen how he and a relative had retrieved the last body, the aforementioned passenger, from the icy waters. Another noteworthy event was the time given in honor of the boys home "on leave" from the Royal Navy during World War 2. Films were shown of Winston Churchill's arousing and passionate speeches which helped promote and foster patriotism and solidarity for the war effort. Often at such events, treats of homemade ice cream could be purchased for ten cents. We knew nothing about graduation exercises, gowns, tuxedos and the accompanying hoopla. If we were successful in passing the CHE exams in grade nine and ten we were presented our diploma at the school concert. By the time the grade eleven one arrived we were probably away working. With a curriculum focused on the three R's, we saw the need to organize our own physical activities. We competed in races and engaged in fun games such as, "Hoist Yourselves and Run." During recess and after school we did the broad jump across brooks and the high jump over fences. Groups organized soccer games played with a makeshift, uncommercialized ball, and baseball using a sponge ball which quite often, with no backstop, got lost in the high grass on the opposite side of the road. In Winter, hours were spent pushing wooden sleds sideways to remove enough snow in preparation for a much- anticipated hockey game. The vast, stone church built in 1926 practically on the main road, (maybe the road came later) was the town's most conspicuous attraction; to many, perhaps, an elaborate "White Elephant."While the main sanctuary appeared majestic and ornate, the extremities showed signs of dampness due to roof leaks. The long narrow openings high up in the tower contained metal bars where birds nested. It was not uncommon to be in an evening service in Summer and see birds flying from the balcony to the choir loft and back. Another unique feature was the seats were privately owned; you knew where everyone was going to sit. This led to some awkward, and even contentious situations, especially for visitors. During the Winter, because the main sanctuary was too expensive to heat and light, services were moved downstairs to the basement. People would gather at the large entrance area containing the furnace, and watch the sexton shovel in the coal, his face being just as red as the fire itself. Then he or his nominee would climb Kavanagh's Hill to the belfry to ring the bell to call worshippers to church. It was not only warmer physically, but the atmosphere much cozier and the singing more spirited. It was remarkable, especially during the "After Services" how, without musical accompaniment, hymns and choruses could be raised always in the right key. Ralph Waldo Emerson stated aptly, "The singing enveloped me. It was furry and resonant, coming from everyone's very heart. There was no sense of performance or judgment, only that the music was breath and food." I was fortunate enough to be home in June 1966 to capture the demolition of the old stone church. Old Perlican was among the first group of seven areas where cottage hospitals were opened in 1936, as part of the Commission of Government's cottage hospital program. I was a patient there for a week or so in March, 1945. I had been down on Cramm's Ditch in the afternoon just standing around after the older boys had finished playing a game of hockey. Suddenly, one of the guys wielding a crude hand-made hockey stick made a swing at something and hit me directly in the eye. I managed to walk home; on reaching our porch entrance, a classmate was just leaving. She went back in the house with a scream. Her older brother then hitched up his horse and sleigh and drove me to the hospital. While there my aunt died from tuberculosis on Good Friday, March 30. The Post Office building was subdivided, the inside section being reserved for court sessions. The outside section was also divided, the postmaster's quarters were inside and the area for the general public on the outside. In Winter, mail was brought down from the North shore by horse and sled. People would gather in the outside section and wait till the postmaster opened the wicket to call the names. I can recall being there just once. We were like sardines and if our name was called I may have been too timid to respond. Thereafter, we probably waited for the 3rd call or made a general enquiry later. . In 1946, out of 617 post-offices in Newfoundland and Labrador, Old Perlican was among the 171 that were also telegraph offices. The Post Office was located on a promontory overlooking Beckett's Ditch. On a few occasions, especially at Xmas, the Postmaster came out to summon one of the hockey players (who was also a messenger boy) to deliver a message. On one occasion, I was curiously eaves-dropping at a court session in progress. A party had been charged with hooking, or catching lobsters illegally, near the breakwater. One member of the party said they were getting killick rocks. When someone inquired, "How big are killick rocks?" another party member responded, "Bigger than lobsters," There were a few general stores, but most of the shopping was done from home through the Simpsonâ��s and Eaton's mail order catalogues. I purchased my hockey stick every year from Eaton's at a cost of $2.00, and it lasted all winter. I ordered "Big Boy" exercise books or scribblers for the high school grades. I recycled the used ones to make scrap books of hockey players clipped chiefly from mainland newspapers. I still have one of these in my possession. I've taken you on my own personal sentimental journey. At times, I feel like Kris Kristofferson "I'd trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday." But maybe Julian Barnes quote is more apt and realistic, "What you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed."   Submitted By: NULL