George's Letter

Some time ago, George mailed me a letter containing some legal documents related to the farm, including the deed. It is an historical document covering the period when our father and mother bought the farm from Adam Henderson, our grandfather, to when they sold it. George makes several comments in his letter which are well worth reading.

George writes: Enclosed are a sack of legal documents pertaining to the farm. Some of these documents go back to 1910. They tell of a very tough struggle for our father and mother to go through to try paying for the farm and raise a hungry gang of six, and to hang in there and keep on going. I think they had a lot more courage and stamina than today’s citizens.

The Farm:
This is somewhat of a puzzle, but the way I read it is that Thomas Baker died in October 1903 and left his will giving Minor Baker, his son, part of the farm provided he support Mary Baker, his widow, for life, and Amanda Baker until marriage or death, if she did not marry.

It was also in his will that the other part of the farm was to be sold to Adam Henderson for $600 with the money going to Minor Baker, and that they must turn over the land part described in the will to Adam without any fuss.

It looks as if Thomas left the part of the farm to Adam and Adam took possession on Thomas’ death. Now Adam owned all of the farm.

Adam sold the farm to our father for $2000 and took back a mortgage of $1000. But our father didn’t have the $1000, so he took out another mortgage of $1000, which adds up, eh? This sounds easy, but this mortgage was with John Jennings who was one of two brothers who lived a concession north of Groveton about two miles away. I can remember him pestering my father regularly. He ran a shoemaker shop in Spencerville and drove a horse and buggy going right past our house every day.

How convenient to stop in and say, "Hello. Oh, by the way, Bill..." "Sorry, no. I don’t have that much, but maybe next week."

Adam, of course, became very ill and died at our house where mother had cared for him for some time. In his will he gave everything to our father. That was in 1924.

He had a horse and buggy, and before he became too ill, he would drive Ray and I to the ball games. We would be about 4 and 6 years old at that time.

He was separated from his wife who lived in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan –about the right distance my father used to say. She was sister of Albert McQuade and not very popular as I understand.
Our father was a kind and great man and a hard worker. It took our mother to provide the glue that held things together. They both deserved Gold Medals to provide for a family of six.

God bless them. I think of them often.