Working away from home
When I read through local history material, I realize that I was fortunate. My parents did not have to leave home and go off to work for the winter. It used to be a thing.
Well, with one exception. When I was still in elementary school, my father did have to leave for a winter. The railroad promoted people by sending them away, and letting the family catch up later. And so, that one winter, my father headed off to Northern Ontario, leaving the wife and five kids at home, with another one coming in not long after (not a late train, but something like that).
I was promoted to “man of the house”, which came with few perks, few responsibilities and a lot of stay-at-home time. I was in grade school, so that was normal. My father caught the train and went off to his new accommodations, in the YMCA of a CNR division town. He didn’t tell us much about it, other than to be anxious for us to catch up (which we did, in the spring of the new year).
My father didn’t tell us much about the place; I tucked the reference away. And today, I found a couple of photos from the place.
Rather bland. A long way from the sea. No sand dunes, or fields bounded my black spruce (like at home). Dad never offered to return, or to take us through the area as tourists. In fact, he simply filed that winter under “something I had to do, to keep food on the table”
