Finding Family, Understanding Ourselves...

Pre Note: Life, on one hand can be perceived as one large fantasy.  My life and the life of my father, are at times, unreal.  Finding family, helped us understand ourselves; understanding our family may help us find ourselves...

Here is a nugget from the book of our lives.... 

On September 13th, 1932 Harold Fraser Kerr passed the magazine stand on the way to the hospital, and noted Henry L Steven on the cover of TIME.  Veterans of the first world war were not seeing the compensation that they deserved.  Harold was only 31 years old, had just been married last summer at the end of July to a beautiful, dark haired, 21 year old girl from Glengarry County, named Isabel Lalonde.

Montreal 1932

The Great Depression was well into its second year, and everyone in Canada was suffering the harsh effects of this global economic downturn.  Canadian industrial production was the second lowest level in the world after the United States with unemployment at 27%.

  

Isabel with baby Harry

Just this week a tropical storm brought a hurricane into Canadian waters bringing winds of 260 km/h. Fifteen people lost their lives due to the storm’s impact on fishing and sailing vessels. Flooding, structural, and crop damage occurred in Nova Scotia and all four Atlantic provinces saw their harbours and inshore boats damaged.

It was in this poor and desolate climate that Isabel Kerr lay in a hospital bed in Montreal.  By end of day Tuesday evening she had given birth to her baby boy.  She would name him William Harold Kerr.  Her husband, Harry had wanted to name their first born son after his grandfather Alexander William.  Isabel agreed.  The baby would take the middle name from his father. 

St. Willibrord's Parish

On the 2nd of Oct, baby William (Harry) was baptized in St-Willibrord's Parish of Montreal, an area known as Verdun.  

Harry was very happy, and lived with his parents until his father began to suffer a crippling disease and was hospitalized around 1937.  Harry was only 5 years old.  His Mom Isabel, had disappeared.

The Grace Dart Hospital

On 18 February 1940, Harold Fraser celebrated his 39th birthday alone in his extended care home at 5141 Notre Dame East Montreal.  He was staying in the long term care facility called the Grace Dart Extended Care facility.

Harry visiting his dad's family

Isabel was only 22 years old when her baby Harry was born.  By 1937 she would have been 27, and had likely met Joe McLaughlin, a handsome guy 5 years her junior.  Sometime after 1937, Isabel and Joe had escaped to St. Catharines together, left their families behind, and had seven children together in the 1940s.  They would not know about Harry, as Isabel had left him in foster care in Montreal.

Harry grew up in Pointe Claire Montreal, knowing himself only as Harold Hope - the foster son of the Hopes who raised him well.  Harry remembers visiting his dad off and on for the few years before he died.  Harry knew his mom had disappeared, but never knew why.

Harry Kerr

In 1969 Harry had been married 6 years to a beautiful, dark haired, 27 year old woman named Diane.  In October of that year, they gave birth to a baby girl named Karen.  Within a year of Karen's birth, Diane left Harry to sort out his issues, and travelled across the country to raise her baby girl with her family in Sault Ste Marie.  Karen grew up never really knowing who her father was - the circle continues.  The difference here was when Karen's mom left, she took her daughter with her - when Isabel left Harold, she left her son Harry behind.

Karen born as Karen Kerr

Harry meets Karen

In 1989 Karen and Harry met for the first time.  Harry travelled to Chilliwack BC with his family for Karen's graduation from the military Basic Officer Training.  It was here where Karen learned about Harry's story of his adoption and set her mind that one day, she'd solve it and figure out where his mother had disappeared to.

Harry's mom Isabel with her love, Joe.

In 2009, a major release of the 1911 census allowed Karen, who had been very involved in genealogy research - to find the birth dates and family information on Harold Kerr and Isabel Lalonde. Through this research she found another woman desperately seeking information about Harold Kerr too - Ann McLaughlin.  Ann's mother had told her many years before she'd died, that she had given birth to a baby boy and given him up.  Ann set her mind to find this boy.  Karen found Ann online and the two began to put together the puzzle pieces of Ann's mother who was Isabel Lalonde and Karen's father Harry Kerr.  For the first time in his life, at the age of 77, Harry got to see a photograph of his mother with the man she'd ran away with, Joe McLaughlin.

Harry's brothers and sisters, the McLaughlins.

In 2012, Terry McLaughlin, Harry's brother, paid to have him flown to St. Catharine's Ontario from British Columbia to meet, for the first time, his brothers and sisters.  Karen and her family were there to meet them all too.  It was an overwhelming and heart moving experience.  Harry loved every moment of meeting the brothers and sisters he'd been missing, all of his life.  They took him in and made him feel at home.  He would have stayed if life had given him that choice, I'm sure.

Post Note: I may flesh out more of this story and make a novel of it.  I need more details, and am spending my hours these days digging for more details on the time between 1932 and 1940.  :) Time will tell.  I truly need the 1921 census, but I won't get my hands on that until I turn 52.

The aimless blogger...

The aimless blogger... tonight I've decided I should post something, anything, to anyone who may be interested. Then you sit in front of the computer and try to decide what to write about.  I could write about my book, that I'm not sure how to continue since I found it has already been written by someone else back in 89.  Mogan Llywellen entitled her book The Red Branch. Nice name.  I would have called mine "the Warrior King".  Mine would not be about the Branch as a whole but quite specifically about the one character who is the greatest hero of Ulster.  I will likely order it - Morgan's book - used of course, as I found a new one will cost $240 dollars.  Perhaps there are only a few copies out there and as such I should not fear writing my version.  On the other hand, I have never liked copying other people so this is difficult for me to continue.

Years ago I bought a southern styled blanket, and wanted terra cotta floor tiles, purchased western art and cactus for my home and loved the look.  Then, very soon after, the whole of North America decided to go southwestern styled... I died inside.  I was no longer unique and original... time for a change.  So you must see how difficult it would be to continue to write a book that someone else may have already written...

Now the difficult task prevails - change my idea entirely - study something altogether new? Stick with the same timelines (first century AD) and storylines and pick new characters and develop the story on my own? or... bring the character into the year 2010 and write the story as if it were happening now.... hmmm....

I wrote a short story not too long ago.  It isn't pretty but it is real.  I thought I would perhaps continue that story and write a novel based on a female character. She is very interesting to me.  Perhaps I will continue her stories for some time...

Here is the short story for your reading pleasure:

I Live for the Nights I can’t Remember

 “Shit! OMG! Don’t you have Norm’s cell?” Angie fumbles with her cell phone, scrolling through the list of names, as Catherine leans over to belch into the soiled green toilet. Catherine’s long red hair is already tangled and matted from being tied behind her head so it won’t fall into the soup of pizza, vodka, and some other ungodly ingredients. Angie pounds out another text to Joe Picalo “Joe WTF! Need help here :P”.  Joe had a car.  He could take Catherine to a safe place, if only he would answer.

“I can’t stand to watch this Angie. It is freaking me out, and so disgusting!  David has been like, waiting forever.” Lena looks into the mirror, blinks at herself, and pulls out a stick of heavy black mascara to top up her long eye lashes and flips her flawlessly straight, bleached blond hair back as she gives Angie a long hard look.  Lena was David’s pick of the week.

“Fine. Whatever. Go Whore.” Angie gives Lena a perfectly sarcastic smile.  She didn’t like being left to care for Catherine alone but there wasn’t much to gain in arguing with Lena. 

“No point in both our nights being ruined” she quipped, as Lena left the room.  

“I was getting a good buzz on too” Angie said aloud, to no one who cared.

***

Earlier that day Angie Marie Spencer had convinced Steve Smith to go on a liquor run and buy her a 40 of vodka.  Steve had graduated from high school last year, and he stood over six feet tall.  He was never carded at the Liquor Store.  Angie had texted him what she had wanted.   Along with her two girlfriends, Lena Michaels and Catherine Binder, Angie loved the vodka shots.  Taking a couple shots of vodka made you feel like you were warm and fuzzy, beautiful and sexy, wanted.  There was nothing in the world more important to Angie, than to feel wanted. Once the girls arrived at the party Angie had handed Steve $40 bucks for the bottle of booze.  Angie posts, “The Start of a crazyyyy night!”  She had been waiting all week for this night.  To Angie, school sucked more than anything.  She got by, that was true enough, but she would really have to pull up her socks this semester if she was ever going to see the inside of a college or, better yet, a university.  She worked on Friday nights to make money to pay for the important things like her hair, her clothes, and her cell phone.  The only thing she lived for was the weekend, and the Saturday night parties.  “Do what makes you happy, right?” Angie grabbed a towel from underneath the cupboard and wiped the yellow bile dripping off of Catherine’s chin. 

“Urgh”, Catherine moaned.  “I am a mess. This is so embarrassing.  Did Jonas see me?”  

“No one saw”, Angie lied.   Catherine groaned and leaned back over the bowl.  Angie had seen Jonas laughing, but she wasn’t about to hurt Catherine’s feelings by telling her so.  Catherine was love sick for Jonas Kane.  He was a great looking guy with sandy blond hair and big blue eyes.  He seemed funny and kind and hung out all the time.  Catherine and Angie spent endless days texting back and forth, trying to figure out why he just wouldn’t commit to a relationship. 

“We need a love potion!” Angie had joked.  

“We need a ‘drop dead gorgeous’ potion too!” Catherine would plead.  Poor Cat. When she wasn’t yellow and green leaning over a toilet bowl, she was a beautiful girl with curly red locks, thousands of freckles and the brightest green eyes.  She never needed to wear much make up and always looked amazing.  Angie would try to look as beautiful and natural as Catherine by using bronzer and eye shadows.  It never seemed to be good enough.

***

 “Why isn’t anyone answering me tonight!!!” Angie yelled out to the unresponsive phone and the empty green bathroom.  Furiously she continued to text Lena what was happening, and sent random texts to people she knew with cars. Angie needed a plan to get Catherine out of this mess, and get back into that party!

***

Just moments earlier Angie had been in the prime seat of the house.  She had been right beside David Bennett – THE hottest guy on the planet.  Christine Coady, who didn’t normally hang with this crowd, got to hear of the predicament through Angie’s posts, “Chrissy! Phone call tonight? BBM me! I am with a bbbbabe :) :)”.  Angie had leaned into David as he joked about last weekend.  David was making fun of some guy he had beat in a beer pong match. Angie giggled.  His eyes were a deep sea blue, and his hair was chocolate mousse waves waiting for her hands to swim through them.  He smelled like fresh peppermint and clean cotton linens.  She could breathe him in forever. 

“HaHa, have another, Angel”, he teased.  David had picked up Angie’s vodka bottle and poured another round of shots.  She would have hated being called Angel by anyone else, but David was different.  She’d swallow her pride.   She felt like a goddess when she was around him.  She knew they still had a thing even though he went with other girls.  He always texted her first so she knew he still cared.  If only he wasn’t such a player.  If only he could be satisfied with her. It didn’t matter that he had started dating her girlfriend Lena this week.  Angie knew it wouldn’t last. She could wait. 

“Keep ‘em comin” Angie smiled back at him. David’s dimples were enough to make your heart swoon as if you were floating over a vast canyon.  If he would continue to smile at her like that, she would never stop drinking.  Angie slugged back the shot and felt the burn of it in her chest.  Angie punches in a new status into her cell phone, “I don’t get drunk. I get Awesome.  That is my new mottoooo.”

The party began to roll along exactly as expected.  All the coolest people had arrived.  Angie had been ignoring Lena’s flirtatious bantering and most especially Lena’s perfectly manicured French nails draping over David’s shoulder, when all of a sudden Lena gasped, “Oh!!, look at Catherine!!”  Angie looked over to see Catherine, red faced and groaning, reaching over to grab the side of the sofa.  Bill Johnson, the guy who owned the place, was panicking.  “No F-in way man! Somebody get her into the bathroom!”  Catherine’s hands tried to cover her mouth as the river of too much forced its way out of her body, through her fingers and sprayed everywhere.  A girl named Jenna with creamy light brown hair and a brand new spray on tan jumped up from the sofa and screamed.   The guys carried Catherine into the basement bathroom as Angie and Lena trailed behind to make sure she’d be okay.  The room stank like a football team locker room and looked as if no mother had ever lived there.  “It stinks in here!” Lena howled.  “Damn! Now I’m gunna puke too!” Angie complained.  The lid to the toilet seat was already up and yellow spots lined the rim of the bowl.  “Ugh!” Catherine moaned as they laid her beside the bowl.  The painful burn of the alcohol coming back up brought tears to her eyes.  Angie grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped the rim of the lime green 70s styled toilet bowl.  Pulling an orange scrunchie out of her bag, she gathered Catherine’s hair and tied it up behind her head just seconds before Catherine let loose a full stomach of regurgitated grub and rot. 

***

The minutes in the bathroom seemed like an eternity had passed.  Angie could hear the mumblings of the party going on in the other room and cursed Catherine for making her miss everything.  Texting wildly she was trying to get in touch with anyone who could offer some help.  Joe Picalo still wasn’t answering.  He was just mad that she ditched him last week.  It was no big deal and he shouldn’t hold a grudge so long.  She had also tried Warren but he just kept repeating “hahaha LMFAO”.  Sandy had her mom’s car but she was working until ten that night.  “Can’t you get off a little earlier?” Angie begged.  “Maybe… TTYL” Sandy replied.   “Damn”.  Angie knew she should have taken Norm’s number when he offered it but at the time she needed to show him that she wasn’t interested.  Norm would have helped her get Catherine out of there.  “I’m worried Cat”, Angie noticed that Catherine was overheating, perspiration dripping down her neck.  She took a new towel and ran some cold water over it.  Dabbing the back of Catherine’s neck and forehead, Angie looked up and noticed a tattered old black and white poster of Marilyn Monroe.  “Well hello Marilyn”, Angie chipped. 

Marilyn did not reply but instead stared at Angie, giving her a look of “you know you love me”.  “That is exactly what I want to look like”, Angie thought out loud.  Except Angie had black hair and tanned skin, thin lips and brown eyes.  Staring at the photograph, it suddenly occurred to Angie, like the click of a door latch just before it opens.  It wasn’t her appearance that Angie wanted.  It wasn’t her lips or her hair, or her clothes.  It was her attitude. 

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” Angie questioned Marilyn.

“Of course you don’t.  You want a man, you set your mind on him and you are so confident and assured that of course you win his heart.”  Angie laughed despite herself.  She had spent so long trying to be sexy and attractive so that David would notice her. 

“Catherine, I’ve got the answer.  We need a confidence potion!” 

Catherine had finally stopped vomiting but she was looking pale and weary.  “You’d better not pass out here!” Angie yelled at her. Just then, Bill Johnson burst into the bathroom, “You got to get that bitch the hell out of my house! Get her outta here now girl”.   

Angie had no idea where to take her.  She couldn’t carry her and she wasn’t going to be able to walk like this.  “Grab her legs!” some guy yelled out.  Bill Johnson and the other boys carried the flopping limp body of Catherine out into the street.  They crossed over and sat her down on the cement block that circled the front of the grocery store.  It was long closed now and the overhead lamppost flickered in and out.

Angie began to panic.  No one was responding to her texts.  Lena was occupied with David, and David had kept her vodka bottle.  “What the hell!!” she yelled out.  She couldn’t even go home. 

***

Earlier that morning Angie’s mom had been cleaning up the house, getting ready to host a Saturday dinner party.  “Angie” her mom hollered up the stairs, “I could use a little help in the kitchen. Can you come down to help please?”  Angie groaned and rolled over in her bed.  It was her weekend.  Her day off.  Why can’t her mother give her one day of rest?  She goes to school all week.  She worked Friday night.  She doesn’t deserve to be gotten up on her only day off.  Angie hated that her mother didn’t understand.

Angie’s phone beeps twice.  She opened her eyes to peek at the texts that had come in.  It was David.  “We are chillin tonight.  You in?”

“KK.  gotta break outta this place.”

Angie knows her mom will say no.  She was asked to babysit that night.  For God’s sake, it is SATURDAY night.  How can her mother possibly expect her to cancel her life for babysitting! She calls Lena.  “Hi Lena, we have to work on that…um… project we have due for English, wanna chill for dinner tonight?” 

“um, ya.  Let me ask my mom”, Lena puts the phone down and her footsteps disappear to another room where she goes to ask her mom if Angie and her could hang out for dinner that night.  Angie hears her clicking steps as she returns to the phone, Lena replies “Ya, she said okay, so come for 5?”

Feeling confident about the new plan, Angie ventured downstairs, grabbed a bagel and threw it in the toaster.  She looked over at her mother setting up the living room for guests.   “I’m going to Lena’s for dinner tonight” Angie informs her mom.

“Not tonight Angie.  I need you here.  You already know this… as soon as you are done that bagel I need you to…”

Angie cuts her mom off before she finishes her morning demands, “Mom!! I’ve got an English exam on Tuesday to study for.  Tonight is the only chance Lena and I have!! I’ll be home early, as I do want to get a good night’s sleep”.  Angie uses her loud convincing voice as she grabs two cookies out of the container on the counter.

“Angie, please.  Not now.  Right now I need you to…”

“You are always trying to control me! I NEED to study for my exam! You tell me you want me to have good grades but then you won’t let me go work on what I need to with my friends!” Angie storms away bagel and cookie in hand.

“F-ing bitch won’t let me go” she texts Lena. 

“Just leave haha” Lena writes. 

“Need a ride” Angie texts to David.

“Be there in 20 minutes” came the response.  Angie’s heart skips a beat.

She has twenty minutes to be ready.  There is no way she is missing out on seeing David tonight.  Her mom will have to deal with it.  She runs to the bathroom and runs the shower.  Angie runs through her to do list.  She needs to text Catherine to tell her where they are chillin.  She can’t forget to take her change of clothes and her straightener for morning because she won’t be coming back tonight.  She knows Lena’s dad won’t care if she stays there tonight. He never did.

The honk outside told Angie that David had arrived.  “Guess who?” read the text.  She took a final look in the mirror and frowned.  Her black hair still had a wave in it but she didn’t have any more time to straighten it.  Her white shadow around her eyes had started to smear and she had just used up all of her black eye liner.  She would never look as perfect as Lena.

“Angie, what are you doing? You and I both know you aren’t going to study.  You are making a big mistake…” Angie ignored the manipulation coming from her mother.  She wasn’t going to ruin her night.  Angie knew exactly what she was doing and had full control and responsibility.  She wasn’t a little girl anymore.  She would study on Monday. Tonight was for David.  As she slammed the door behind her, Angie sang under her breath, “Tonight’s goina be a good nite” and walked out to the car.

“You want a cig?” David asks.

“You have to ask?”, Angie takes the cigarette, pulls the lighter out of her pocket and laughs at the memory of a posting she had totally related to: “Lollipops turn into cigarettes…. innocent ones turn into sluts”

“Imma ready”, Catherine texts Angie. 

“Let’s swing by and pick up Cat”, Angie offers to David.  He circled around the court and headed over towards the far side of the park where Catherine lived.  She was supposed to be grounded after last weekend, but she wasn’t going to be controlled by her mother either.  Lena’s dad had plenty of room at his place anyways.

***

Angie snapped out of her daydream just long enough to notice the busses still passing outside of Bill Johnson’s house.  Perhaps they could hop on a bus.  “You think you could get on a bus Cat?” Angie questioned.  “Ugh, ya, I guess, stick your thumb out” Catherine muttered.  Angie smiled but was too worried for her friend to laugh at her jokes now.  Under the dim lighting of the lamppost, Catherine still looked as green as the walls of that horrid bathroom.  Angie felt the whole world seemed to be crushing down on her shoulders.  Everything she believed about tonight had vanished.  It was supposed to be a great night.  David was supposed to fall madly in love with her.  Lena was not a real friend. She wished for a moment that she could go back to being a little kid again.  Back to when playing pretend and believing in Santa Clause was all that really mattered.  Her mom would have helped her but now she was too embarrassed and felt ashamed to call her.  

“Cat, please tell me you are going to be okay?”  Angie brushed the hair out of Catherine’s eyes. 

“We went too far this time Cat”, Angie reflected.  Next time, only a couple shots, not so many, she decided.

The wind began to pick up and Angie started to shiver.  They were dressed in short minis and tank tops, and didn’t bother with leggings as it was still early October and the days were quite warm.  “Bad luck keeps on giving…” Angie muttered as the temperature was dropping rapidly. If Angie didn’t do something, Catherine could die out here. Angie was left with no choice.  She had to make the awful decision to break the ultimate friend rule.  That thing you are never supposed to do.  She dialed Catherine’s home number. 

“Ah, Hello?  Mrs. Binder? Ah, Catherine says she has an upset stomach and you need to come pick her up.  She is sitting outside by the grocery store on Marx Street…”  Angie put on her best innocent voice but Mrs. Binder was not buying it.  “Marx Street?! What do you mean she is on Marx Street?!”   Mrs. Binder was raising her voice and seemed to becoming angrier by the second.  Angie wasn’t going to listen to that. She hung up the phone.  She’d say later that her cell phone dropped the connection. 

A bus pulled up to the stop in front of the grocery store and Tommy Jameson walked off “Hey Angie, sup?” 

“OMG Catherine is totally ill but…” Angie bit her lip, “…Her mom is coming”.

“haha.  You look worried.  You wanna take off?  I’ll stay with her.  I need the fresh air” He laughed.

“Sookay…”, Catherine slurred, “imma be fine, sista”.  Catherine may have looked like death but she was still the funniest girl Angie knew.  Tommy was a good guy.  Angie had no doubt Catherine was in good hands waiting with him and was more concerned that Cat was going to be okay.  She will be grounded for life but at least alive to tell the story.

Sitting Catherine’s handbag down beside her, Angie remarked “Okay, I’ll text you later Cat”, and she began to walk back towards the party.   

The sky began to cloud over and the wind blew again with an awful force.  A storm was rolling in.  She thought of how painful it would be to walk into the party just to see Lena and David hand in hand.  “No point in going back”, she spoke out loud to the overgrown trees hanging over Marx St.  She pulled out a cigarette from her pocket and lit up.  Marilyn wouldn’t have gone back.  She would find a new man to set her sights on.  A man who would give her the attention she desired, and needed.  Angie drew in the smoke and reflected that maybe this would be the last cigarette.  She had planned to quit and had told her friends, “Don’t worry, I’m quitting, it takes time you know”.  Angie had made progress.  She used to smoke every day and now it seemed if she wanted to, she didn’t have to.  So far though, she really didn’t want to stop.  That was her choice though. It wasn’t like a real addiction.  Each drag made her feel a little closer to reality, or was she back in make believe? It didn’t matter.  Her mother thought she was an addict.  Her mother didn’t understand.  Angie had goals. Real goals and she was going to achieve them.

Humbled by the dark clouded night, yearning for some place warm and comforting, tired and worn down lacking in steam for another round, Angie typed slowly into her phone, “can you come t get me?”

The response came almost immediately.  “Give me the address.”

Fifteen minutes later, the familiar brown Volkswagen pulled up.  Angie climbed into the car.  They had gone on many family camping trips in this car.  Angie didn’t say anything to her mom on the way home.  Back in her bedroom, Angie logged into her computer and typed out a final post for the night, “Beauty, is the perspective within each individual. You can attempt to change yourself, but no matter what, each person has their own view on what THEY think is attractive.  So be yourself, inside and out, smile like crazy, sing your heart out, and do not be afraid to speak your mind. Try something new because it makes YOU feel good, be grateful and confident.  Don't ever let someone tell you who to be, or how to look, because when it comes down to it all, if they can't love you for you, then they don't deserve to have you at all” Catherine was one of the first friends to like her post.  Angie smiled glad that Cat was now home safe. Secretly, Angie really hoped David would notice her post and be jealous at how confident she was. 

“You know you love me”, Angie whispered, as she lay down to sleep.