The picture is of our parents 25th wedding anniversary. Grace is standing beside our mother.
May 24, 2007
A Tribute to DAD
One hundred years ago in Brixham, Devonshire, England, John Henry (Harry) Hall was born to Joseph and Lilly Hall. Dad was a sickly baby and I believe that he was not expected to live. In 1914, the small family came to Canada and headed to the prairies where they settled. Their first year was spent in Saskatoon and then moved on to Sonningdale. In 1925, Grandpa purchased a homestead of 160 acres for $10.00 through the provisions of the Dominion Lands Act. This became home for the Hall family.
Many of my brothers and sisters have vivid memories of Sonningdale, however my memories are few and in bits and pieces.
Dad knew Mom and the Jasper family who lived in nearby Struan, most of his life, at least life in Canada. The Jasper family had a strong and very good influence on Dad and subsequently on his parents. Mom’s brothers were good friends especially Ken who was so very close to Dad’s age, being born on May18, 1907. Dad’s spiritual life was greatly affected by the Jaspers and he, in turn, encouraged his own parents.
Dad and Mom started to date in 1926 but did not marry until September 28, 1937. One time, I asked Mom why they hadn’t married sooner. Her response was that she was waiting for Dad to mature (spiritually).
Most of my brothers and sisters know the details of Dad’s and Mom’s first years of marriage, better than I. However, I will sketch through some of the details. Dad had taken a job in Manitoba as a hired hand, prior to proposing to Mom. He came back for the wedding but he and Mom returned to work for the Lewis’; Dad as a farm hand and Mom in the house for a combined income of $30.00 per month. I remember Mom saying that as they passed through Winnipeg, Dad gave Mom a dollar to go into the Bay to buy some baking tins. Mom said that she bought ten baking tins, and they were good ones. They had returned to Sonningdale before their first child, John Henry, was born on September 25, 1938. They went on to have a total of 8 children (4 boys and 4 girls).
Joe was the only child born in Ontario and that was because Dad was stationed in Fort William during the war years. Dad fell in love with Fort William and was determined to return there some day. This dream was not fulfilled until he was in his fifties.
Dad and Mom were in their 40’s by the time I was born (I was number 7). I only lived in Saskatchewan for my pre-school years, so my memories of life there, are rather sketchy. I remember penny scrambles, walks near the house, seeing robins’ eggs and blue jays, going to town with Dad (including the grain elevator), and other such memories. Dad was a busy man but I have memories of him setting me on his lap and reading or telling me a story. I really liked it when Dad did my bedtime story because he always put such emphasis in his voice. I felt that he was the best storyteller in the world.
When we moved to Fort William, life for me changed. There was school and new friends; and since I was a little older, new responsibility (chores). Dad was very much an authority figure, so discipline and punishment could be expected if we did not measure up to Dad’s expectations. Many may consider Dad’s discipline harsh, but he was a firm believer of “spare the rod, spoil the child”. One time I announced that I wanted to be spoiled, but was ask what we did with spoiled apples.
So many times when we think of Dad we think of our rougher moments with him; times when we disagreed with him, or when we experienced some of his less endearing qualities. Years ago, I started to remind myself of the more pleasing memories. Here are some of them. I encourage you to remind yourself of your special memories with Dad.
Dad taught me how to drive. Yes, believe it or not, he did. And, I don’t think that I’m the worst driver in the world. AND, believe it or not, he was usually very patient with me. I learned to drive on a standard transmission with the gears on the steering column, and the old bucket of bolts used to stall and/or hesitate for seemingly no reason at all. I can remember the car stalling and not wanting to start at the intersection of Arthur St. and the expressway. Car horns were blaring at me and Dad remained calm which helped me when I felt frazzled.
I remember several special outings with Dad (some included Mom and Mary): Sunday afternoon drives out to Kakabeka Falls, bowling on Friday evenings, going for a boat ride on Lake Superior with Dad’s friend Stan, going to the dairy queen or Scollies ice cream parlour. One time, Dad made arrangements for the young teens of our church to go out on Stan’s boat. It became rather rough and a couple of the kids got sick. Cheryl Cuma and I were sitting on deck, sticking our feet down trying to touch the water, and sometimes a wave came up and splashed over us. Suddenly, Dad poked his head up through the hatch and told us rather sternly to get out of there and go back with the others. I thought Dad was really mad at me, but later heard him telling others, rather proudly, how Cheryl and I were real sailors.
I remember one year, Dad let me pick out 2 dolls for my Christmas gift (boy, was that ever unusual).
I remember Dad trying to teach me to swim at Round Lake. Do you remember Dad going swimming? (LOL) Dad hated cold water. He would very gingerly wade into the water until he got in just above his knees, and then he would dip his hands into the water and splash some water onto himself until he got used to the temperature, and then he would completely dunk himself. Now if that isn’t enough of a picture for you: can you think of any man whiter than Dad? And how about the times he burnt the top of his head? And (Naomi you will remember this) then there was the time that he couldn’t find his cap, so he made himself a paper hat from newspaper to protect his bald head from the sun.
Dad was a man who had many interests. He liked his cars and although he may have complained about it, I think he liked the challenge that came with working on his own cars. Dad liked to read. He seemed to enjoy reading about history, and of course, he liked study books on Scripture. Dad wrote many notes on his studies of Scripture, and many nights when I came home, Dad was sitting at the table making notes or reading.
Dad loved people. He made friends with some rather unusual characters. He befriended a native man who lived on the Indian reservation. It was unusual to go to his home and get looks from others who lived on the reservation because this white man (a VERY white man) was coming onto the reservation.
Dad spent many hours with Stan, the man who owned the cabin cruiser. Stan was a man who was very friendly but somewhat coarse, liking is drink and smokes.
One of the things that Dad sometimes did was pick up hitchhikers. I remember waking up one morning and finding 3 strange girls sleeping in the living room.
One time when Carolyn was a baby, I had gone home for a visit. Dad and Mom had gone into town to shop but I stayed home to put the girls down for a nap. I was just about finished feeding Carolyn when I heard somebody come into the house. I thought it was Mom and Dad. I laid Carolyn down and went out to the kitchen. There was a woman and a young boy going through the cupboards looking for something to eat. She looked at me and said, “Who are you?” I replied, “I’m the daughter. Who are you?” It turned out to be someone who Dad had befriended and Dad had let her have a garden in our backyard. She was looking for a snack which Dad had told her to help herself to any time she wanted one.
Mary and I used to laugh together wondering how Dad managed to find out information about people. Dad would meet total strangers, and then come back and say, “Do you see those people? They know….” He could find out that the person was related to the Jackson’s mailman’s next door neighbour’s sister, or something just as obscure. Mary and I would look at each other and ask how he did it.
I respected Dad for his love of Mom. When Dad carried something too far, all Mom had to do was say, “Now Harry. That’s enough.” That was enough to stop Dad in his tracks. Dad never challenged Mom. Dad never said a mean comment about Mom. He always treated her with respect. I don’t remember them arguing, even if they disagreed. They usually kept their disagreements private.
Another thing which I praise Dad for, is his love for God. He wasn’t a perfect man but there is no doubt in my mind that he loved God. Many nights as I passed their bedroom, I saw Mom and Dad on their knees together. It challenges me as to what impression does my spiritual life have on my children. I know that Dad and Mom’s great desire was to have their children love God. Mom was the person who led me to salvation, but Dad had his influence in that area too.
Dad lived 80 years on this earth. Dad was always very determined. If you told him that he couldn’t do something, he would do it; just to prove that he could. Somebody should have told him that he could never reach 100 years old. Just before Dad died, I went to see him in the hospital. He quoted II Tim. 4:7& 8 to me.
What a legacy our parents gave us. Let us run with it so that at the end of our lives we also may say that we have “fought the good fight”.
Thank you for that tribute to our father Grace.
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