Self's Meat Market in Strathcona, by Darlene Donald

A granddaughter tells the story of the family business and lessons in charity.
\r\nDate: 1920s

My Grandfather's Butcher Shop, "Self's Meat Market," in Strathcona was located between 82 and 83 rd Avenue on the eastside of 104 Street where the New York Bagel now stands. It was in the early 1920's when my mother was 12 or 13 years old would occasionally on a Saturday afternoon walk up to Grandfather's shop to help with the cleaning after a very busy day.


The entrance to the shop was through a wooden door with a pane of glass on the upper section. The shop was a long narrow room with white walls everything very pristine. The smell in the shop was a wonderful combination of sawdust on the floor, bleach and fresh and smoked meat. There were two large coolers of white enamel as were the trays inside, glass window in front and sliding doors to the back, they formed an "L". At the corner of the "L" was a cash register with a counter on each side. At the back of the shop was a very large walk in cooler, where the sides of beef, pork, mutton and other supplies such as chicken, ham, etc, were stored. In the center of the shop stood a large butcher block with all the knives and tools necessary to do his craft. Attached to the end of the butcher block was a steel paper holder, which held the roll tan waxed on one side above was a serrated edge on which to tear the paper at the appropriate length. Above the block hung a spool of white butcher string. It was on this block the customers orders would be filled, wrapped with the paper tied with the string, and the price marked with a waxed black pencil, which was either tucked behind his ear or in his left breast pocket.


My Grandfather always wore a white hip length duster over a white starched collar and tie and a four-button vest. Everything was very pristine.


The cleaning was a follows. Sweep the sawdust up and mop the floor with bleach and hot soapy water. Everything was washed down thoroughly the coolers, trays, counters. The butcher block was cleaned first with a steel brush to remove the meat residue than washed again with bleach and hot water with a scrub brush. With the cleaning done they would pull down the blind on the door and lock it. And my grandfather, with his last delivery under his arm, left for the weekend.


They would walk east down Whyte Avenue. One evening as they walked by the Strathcona hotel they met a very drunk man. After this encounter my mother said how glad she was that her father wasn't like that man. My grandfather replied rather sternly "But by the grace of God go I". Never criticize a man until you have walked where he has walked and seen what he has seen. The rest of the walk home was very quiet. When they arrived at 99 Street and 84 Avenue. My Grandfather instructed my mother to go right home, and tell mother that he would be home as soon as he made this last delivery. He would stand and watch her walk until she almost home than he would continue on to make his last delivery. On returning home my mother would give the message to her mother and the reply would be "Yes, I know".


Forty years later a woman who my mother had gone to school with, had been away from Edmonton for many years, approached my mother after prayer meeting one evening at the Strathcona Baptist Church of which my mothers family had been life long members her father considered by all who knew him a pillar of the community. The woman told mother a story of when she was very young, and how poor her family were. One Saturday evening her mother heard a noise on the front step opened the door and there was a package upon opening the package my discovered a whole selection of different cuts of meat, her decided that the delivery person had obviously made an error. Just than my brother came in and asked why Mr. Self had been there.


The woman stated that they were not the only family to receive mysterious packages of meat, some other less fortunate families in the community, not only Baptists, but just people in need. Her mother had never revealed the identity of the man


But our family was truly grateful for this gift. She ended her story by saying " Now that is what being a true Christian is all about".


My Mother thanked the woman for her story and I am sure her heart was filled both love and joy. She always knew her father to be a very upstanding man who she loved very much, but hear such a wonderful story about how he not only believed in being a Christian, but lived that way every day of his life. A verse my mother had heard came into her mind at this time.


"To fill a hole in your heart, fill it with giving. Given my grandfather's childhood he much had a very large hole to fill.


* A fire March 2003 destroyed New York Bagels and seven other historical buildings.