An Edmonton childhood in the 1930s and 1940s, by Phyllis Ellis

Date: 1930 to 1949\r\n

January 1, 1930, I entered this world - two months into “The Great Depression.”


Although I was the first New Year’s baby born at the Royal Alexandra Hospital, my mother and I didn’t receive the gifts and accolades which usually accompany such an event. In those days gifts were practical, not glamorous: a ton of coal, 12 loaves of bread, for example. Apparently a mother, who had also given birth that night, was extremely poor. The nurses approached my mother to ask if she would let the other mother have the gifts. If you had known my mother, there would have been no doubt. So began my life.


I had a happy childhood. Since my father always had a job, we were better off than many. I recall men coming to the door and offering to do work for a meal. Whether there were jobs to be done or not, my mother would never send a man away hungry, even if she could provide only bread and cheese and a cup of tea. I remember children who couldn’t go to school in the winter because they had no shoes.


Parks and playgrounds were few and far between so my father, along with several men in the neighbourhood, volunteered to make a clearing in the centre of some bush along 111 Avenue and a few blocks west of Westmount School and they called it Westmount Park. The community wanted a space for picnics and sports activities. The local Girl Guides, Brownies, Boy Scouts and Cubs used the space for learning about and earning their Outdoor and Firelighting badges and it was just a nice place to gather even though it was not a mown lawn or anything like today’s parks. This space was sold later for a shopping mall, hence the name Westmount Shoppers’ Park.


Homes were not as large and gardens not as manicured as today’s and almost everyone planted a vegetable garden and raised fruits and berries which could survive our cold temperatures. The produce from their efforts was made into jams, jellies, pickles and preserved fruits and vegetables for consumption during the long, cold winter.Nor was there the great variety of flowers which have been developed through the years and, of course, the climate has mellowed. Most gardens grew Golden Glow which I haven’s seen for years but I suspect it will be resurrected along with some hollyhocks and dahlias.


Though the winters were harsh, the summers were warm and lovely.


As if it were yesterday, I recall the morning war was declared. My sister and I were sleeping on our “Winnipeg Couch” on our screened-in verandah when we were awoken to a paper boy yelling “War Declared” while at the same time our phone rang to tell my brother to go to the local Journal shack to pick up his papers to deliver.


Then a great change came to our lives. Everything was geared to winning the war. We collected string (which I understand was used in munitions), tin foil, bits of metal, elastic bands, old tires and tubes - anything that could be used to help the war effort.


Boys could identify the numerous kinds of aircraft which flew over Edmonton. We watched ski troops being trained on a small hill outside the school. For the first time, women wore trousers to work in the “Aircraft Repair” factory and magazine ads showing a picture of a woman in her white factory overalls read “Please don’t stare at my pants.


We had a wonderful teacher who, every afternoon at 3:00 pm, would tell us to put away our books and take out our knitting. For an hour every afternoon our class, boys and girls alike, knitted six-inch squares in various colours from scrap wool we had scrounged from our mothers, relatives, and friends to be made into afghans for the bombed-out people in Britain. During that hour our teacher, Mrs. Whitehead, would read to us from the classics. First a “girls” book such as Heidi or Little Women, then a “boys” book like Kidnapped or Treasure Island, then one for both genders: Swiss Family Robinson, Peter Pan and so on.


Oh, what adventures we had and what lands we travelled in our imaginations through the pages of those books. We learned also that there was no such thing as a “boys” book or a “girls” book because we enjoyed them all.


What a clever teacher! She taught us to love good literature and the written word while helping us to assist with the war effort in our own small way. Since the war lasted several years, we read a lot of books and knitted a lot of squares.


Then came our mothers’ time. Every Monday families rushed to finish dinner and wash, dry and put away the dishes by 7:00 pm so they could listen to Lux Radio Theatre. These were radio dramas starring famous Hollywood movie stars, adapted from movie scripts such as Reap the Wild Wind, Rebecca, or The Little Foxes.


While they listened to these exciting and gripping dramas, the women of Edmonton - and likely all across Canada - knitted balaclavas, scarves, socks and gloves (with fold-up fingers to free the fingers for instruments or triggers) for the service men. The patterns and wool in khaki, navy blue or airforce blue (depending on the service needing them most) were provided to the women and the women provided the labour. No wonder one of the 2002 Canada Post stamp designs was dedicated to knitting.


It was a serious time. We all had fathers, brothers, uncles, aunts, relatives and friends in the forces. Telegrams arrived telling of deaths, injuries or imprisonment of our friends and relatives, but it was also a time of working together for a common goal. Precious memories of good times and sad times shared by a neighbourhood, a city and a nation.