The Sweetest Little House
by Joey Stewart
The house next door at 2618 is about to be torn down and it’s triggered an abundance of memories.
I arrived in Killarney October 1, 1964, as a newly minted Registered Nurse from the Holy Cross Hospital and newly married. We arrived with clothing and not much else. Joanne and Larry and their two boys lived next door at 2612. They watched us move in, probably startled at how little we owned.
Joanne knocked on our door and asked if we could use some window drapes and flowers from her garden. We were so grateful. We’d bought a bedroom suite and table and chairs on credit, that would be delivered later in the day.
Our house was truly amazing in our young eyes. It was a cottage built in 1907 and moved onto this lot in 1953. It was white and had a white picket fence – I was in heaven!
Next door to the south, Mr. Leatherbarrow lived with his daughter, Eva, a Nursing Aid that I had worked with while I was a student. They were lovely people – wonderful neighbours.
Mr. Leatherbarrow had built his house at 2618 in 1911 while he worked at the CPR. At the time people bought materials for their building every two weeks, then built until they’d used it up and then waited for the next paycheque.
He was an amazing gardener and shared his knowledge and tools with us. We had a very large garden because the house was so small. He taught us to make a large circle in the garden, then to plant cucumbers around the edge of the circle; dig a deep hole in the middle and plunk a bucket that we’d punctured many holes in, into the hole. Then we filled the bucket with water and kept it full. The cucumbers loved it, they grew plentiful and large. There was one wire left on an old fence between our properties, and we all walked over the wire with nary a thought about ownership.
His garden had won many Calgary Horticultural Society prizes over the years and so he was a wonderful teacher.
As I think back, I realize that I have known every single person who has ever lived in that house; 114 years have gone by, and the memories are rich and plentiful. Eight years after we moved in Mr. Leatherbarrow had a heart attack; Eva raced over to get me, we held him in our arms as he died, waiting for the ambulance. It was a blow!
When the family came to clear out the house, our daughter received many of their children’s toys they had held onto, and we still have. I continue to use the pincushion and mountains of thread Mrs. Leatherbarrow used over her lifetime.
Then Lorraine lived there with an abusive husband and four tiny children. One day she ran over the wire fence and asked if we could help her escape to her mother in Regina because she could no longer tolerate the abuse. We developed a plan: her husband was a taxi driver who drove all over the city. She had no money, and we had little but we managed to buy four tickets for a flight to Regina – the baby didn’t need one.
On the appointed morning, I tucked them into the back seat of our 1953 Pontiac, covered them with blankets so they couldn’t be seen and drove to the airport. We got them onto the plane, missing only one shoe and a baby bottle.
Her mom was so grateful that we’d helped her daughter she made us beautiful, beaded medallions with our names on them. Treasured items!
When Sam and Joyce lived there with their identical twins, they decided they needed more light in the kitchen. A chainsaw cut out the south wall and we installed a sliding glass door and a patio that gleamed in the sun.
A few years later Bob and Wendy arrived with a grand piano, so we helped Bob take out the wall between the living room and a bedroom. Such joy Wendy provided for the neighbourhood.
These memories remind me of how things change: we have built a new house; Calgary has grown; life goes on.
Photo Credits: Lorne Kingwell
Click here to the Killarney-Glengarry Community News home page for the latest Killarney-Glengarry community updates.
