Soon schools, churches and all the support industries like feed mills, general stores, blacksmith shops, barber shops, bars, roads and even train tracks with . . .

real steam trains rambled through the countryside.

There was no such thing as an eight hour day. The people worked long, hard days. They also took the time to have fun. They never missed an opportunity for a party, just worked a little harder for a day or two before taking time for a little fun.

The ladies and children also looked forward to a party. No baby sitter, no problem. Everyone came to the parties. Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries and even when a neighbour died were times when the entire community gathered to support.

The Orange celebration on July 12 was to celebrate an Irish battle when the Protestants beat the Catholics but everybody came to “the glorious twelfth” because it was a break in haying.

One year, when the Orange men couldn’t find a suitable field for the celebration, Pete, a Catholic farmer offered his farm for the party. Ceremonial King Billy always led the Orange Parade while riding a white horse. That year, no Protestant farmer had a white horse so Pete let them use his white horse for King Billy to ride. There were both Protestants and Catholics at the party and no fights.

The first 17th of March St. Patrick’s Day celebration that I attended in Quyon, there was Rev. Timmons at one end of a long table and Father Cain at the other end and they took turns buying rounds.

In the early 1900s, Catholics were advised not to go out with Protestants and vise versa, but a good party and true love seemed to eliminate that problem.

French and English residents in our county both enjoy a good party and we have many great friends that married, have families and have been happily married for years. It seems that some politicians will count potential votes and try to set people with one religion or language against another to try to win an election.

For generations, there were small dance halls with waxed hardwood dance floors scattered throughout our county, all within a buggy ride of everyone’s house. There would be a dance there every week or two. Impromptu kitchen parties happened weekly in my dad’s time. Some of my most memorable music jams sprang up at gas stations, snowmobile shops, agricultural supply stores, etc. on Christmas Eve when my wife wondered where I was.

Our Royal Canadian Legions are not only a place for our veterans to gather but somewhere for all to enjoy and celebrate the freedom that our veterans fought for.

On June 24 we celebrate our French heritage (some of my ancestors came from France and Quebec), and at Oktoberfest we celebrate the end of a good harvest and our German heritage (some of my ancestors came from there too). The whole community comes to the fair where farmers show off their best and ladies proudly exhibit handicrafts and cooking that makes every man drool. There are still music nights and hooleys every night of the week somewhere in the county.

When people are enjoying themselves, your religion, your colour, the language you speak, or who you voted for is far from your mind, and many other worries are forgotten.

A community that has fun stays strong. Bring your friends!

Chris Judd is a farmer in Clarendon on land that has been in his family for generations. gladcrest@gmail.com

Register or subscribe to read this content

Thanks for stopping by! This article is available to readers who have created a free account or who subscribe to The Equity.

When you register for free with your email, you get access to a limited number of stories at no cost. Subscribers enjoy unlimited access to everything we publish—and directly support quality local journalism here in the Pontiac.

Register or Subscribe Today!