Old Edmonton: Queen Alexandra School memories of the early 1920s
Date: September, 1922
First day I went to school is still clear in my memory. Early in September 1922, dressed up in my new outfit I was escorted to Queen Alexander School by my mother. There were two problems with this. First, no boy my age would willingly by seen in public with his mother, and I did not like wearing clothes after the carefree summer days, just past, when nothing mattered except if it rained, and we had to stay inside. But these problems soon disappeared in the confusion and tension of my new life.
Most "six year old boys" in addition to one piece underwear with short sleeves and legs wore a shirt of durable material, buttoned up to the top, with what we all called "breeks". They were pants that finished just below the knees where they laced around our skinny little legs and below that woollen socks that came up over the lace part of our breeks, and down into boots. We all went bare foot in the summer, even in the big city of Strathcona, now part of Edmonton. It isn't difficult to understand my reaction to being stuffed into a new outfit that bound like a straightjacket. The fact it had cost my parents quite a bit of money wasn't a consideration.
Queen Alex had been built just before W.W. I, but it was over-filled with the new population coming west looking for free land and better opportunities for work. So our grade 1 class was in the top floor, really the attic. It was, however, warm and as comfortable as any other location. On wet or very cold days we were allowed to use the basement for recess. Our vice-principal Mr. Fleming paraded about looking about nine feet tall to us, and he carried a drumstick which he lashed about accurately onto the heads of those who were making too much noise, or when there was a potential riot. When the weather was decent, we went outside and played games. The most popular was "knife". We all carried one, and the idea was to put the sharp point onto various points, such as a finger, and then flip it so it stuck into the ground. The regular sequence of 'points' was fingers in order to thumb to pinkie, then chin, nose, forehead, and finally thrown over from front to back. There was never any thought of using the knife as a weapon. How times change! We also played scrub baseball, and other sports without any supervision, but with our own rules we all knew, and followed exactly.
All around the school grounds there was a low rail fence, and as soon as it got frosty, the older boys taunted the little ones to touch their tongue onto the fence. This, of course, resulted in the tongue becoming stuck, or lightly frozen onto the steel rail. There was also no alternative to pulling it off, which did not result in any serious injury, although you might have a sore tongue for a few hours. I have often pictured little pieces of tongue hanging along that fence, but I never saw any.
There was a Separate School just across the road to the east, and whenever we passed it we yelled "Catlicker, Catlicker", and the pupils who went there replied just as loudly "Potlicker, Potlicker". I really had not idea what it meant, but in the few years the schools had adjoined each other it had become tradition.
Every morning classes opened with a special procedure. I've forgotten the exact order, but we did two things - saluted the flag, and promised to be good citizens. Then our teacher went around the class for personal inspection of our cleanliness, or lack thereof. Hands were shown, both sides, then the neck and ears. We were not sure what would happen if we were not up to standard, but we did know the result would be awful. There is no doubt in my mind that such a procedure would result in screams of protest from indignant parents. However I have lived a long time, and have not suffered any emotional trauma, but I am clean!
Family history suggests that my great grandfather Thomas Richards who was very knowledgeable about masonry work - stone and brick, was in charge of construction in his areas. He died in 1918 at age 84, and although he lived on 85 th Ave. his son's house, where I lived with my parent's was on 73 rd Ave. and 104 th St. The Calgary Trail at that time was down 106th Street.
My Grandfather's house on 104 th St. at 73 rd . Ave. in 1920 was two stories, with front and back stairs. The ground floor had a huge kitchen, and large pantry at the back, a dining room and informal living room along the south side, a formal living room at the front, north side (we never went in there as children. The kitchen was our family room, where we ate breakfast and lunch, with supper in the dining room. There was a porch across the front, and down the south side to the kitchen which jutted out as a stop. The second story had five bedrooms and a bathroom. The basement which was just a pit under the house had the furnace, and a large cistern which filled up with captured rainwater from the roof. This rainwater was treasured carefully to wash young ladies hair - it went very frizzy if the tap water was used. All water was heated by a tank at one end of the kitchen stove. Cistern water was pumped up from the basement by a hand pump on the sink and town water carried across the room to heat on the stove. The large stove was both a curse and a blessing. It kept a supply of warm to hot water at all times, and heated quite a lot of the house, But when it was hot in summer it made the kitchen into a sauna.
At the back of the lot was a barn, with room for a horse, a cow, and a horse carriage. We used the street railway which came within about three blocks of us, and although the runs were infrequent, they were on schedule. Automobiles were a novelty, and we didn't own one. There was a great deal more walking for short trips, even in winter. The family jersey cow gave us lots of mile, cream and butter, and lots of free pasture was available. Next door lived a man who raced horses, and kept a few in a stable. Sometimes when they were shoeing a horse I got to turn the handle of the blower that fed air into the forge. The smell of horses and their manure was quite normal before cars took over. My interest was a supply of horse shoe nails which we used for make darts. We pushed the nail through the center of a cork, and pushed two flat pigeon tail feathers, at right angles to each other, into the end opposite to where the sharp nail poked out. These darts could be thrown quite a distance, and often stick into the side of the barn, or other target.
Our house was just across the road from the horse track, so we could watch the races from our upstairs porch abut the veranda. This house was torn down about 1998.
Electricity had not yet been brought into the area where our house was located. Generally coal oil lanterns were used for basic illumination, but a new type of lantern called the 'Alladin' was used for any extensive reading, cards, or other activities needing more light. They must have been expensive since we had only one. Cleaning lantern glass chimneys took quite a lot of time each day, and newspaper was what we used. The ink used by the newspapers then must have been quite different since they don't' work for that purpose now.
Generally kids planned their own activities for outside. There was lots of room, with few houses, so we went in for bows and arrows, slingshots, as well as hockey on the neighbour's rink. That was where we all learned to skate, pushing a chair. In the summer the rink area was a family garden. We also played various games such as 'Armand Says', blind man's bluff, marbles or agates, knife, Cowboys and Indians, king of the castle, 'Red Light, Green Light' and many I have forgotten. All these games had rules devised by the kids themselves, and enforced by much screaming and pretend fighting. Even serious fighting had rules, one of which was that you could not hit a person whose body was on the ground. Follow the leader was also a favourite game, bit involved more risk. Kids formed loose gangs according to where they lived, and we would challenge kids we did not know. There was very little fighting between gangs.
Wintertime when we could find a hill there was always sliding, since most kids had a sleigh or could get one to use. In the west end, where I lived for a while, there was a ravine that had steep banks, and we slid on the snow among the trees until we had an icy slide on which we could use card board, or for the luckier ones, a piece of tin. How we ever got around all the twists without serious harm still amazes me.