
I sifted through my complicated relationship wth my dad a long time ago and all the crap has flown by the wayside. His laugh, his smile, his farts, his beer, his love of games and reading and learning and his ability to be himself in front of friends or royalty are the things I hold on to. My mom was a different story, for whatever reasons, I never felt that she approved of me or anything I did and it took a lot of work over the years, especially her last years, to just love her the way she was and accept that she did the best she could by me. In many ways she was a woman ahead of her time and I do believe that a lot of my own strength comes from my mom and my Gramma Dot.
William Hubert Brown, born January 24, 1934 to Ruth Lillian Brown and Hubert Brown, the oldest of five siblings from two different fathers. My dad never knew his Dad. Hubert Brown disappeared early on leaving my grandmother with 3 children (my dad, my Aunt Lylas and my Aunt Carol), a single mom during the hardest of times, the middle years of the Great Depression.
My dad was about 11 years old in this picture that was sent to me by one of my cousins. When I showed it to Dad his eyes teared up and he told me that he believed that there were no pictures of him as a child. This is my Aunt Lylas on the left and my Aunt Carol in the middle.
It is believed, but not known for sure, that my grandmother was a prostitute during these hard times. She had a twin sister and the story goes that they followed the railway lines, providing services for the men who worked the rails, going from small town to small town. My grandmother had my dad when she was 16 years old, became a grandmother at 34 years old and a great grandmother at 53. She passed away when she was 54, likely from alcohol related issues. I never knew her to drink but she got the shakes if anyone brought a drink into the same room as her and I know her early years with my Grampa Jack were definitely party years. She was about 27 years old in this photo with Jack. She and Jack never married
but had two children together, my Aunt Patsy and my Uncle Bob. Bob is five years older than me and Patsy a couple of years older than that.
My dad, one of the most voracious readers I have ever know, had a grade 8 education. He quit school to help out with money at home and his first job that I know of was at the cattle yards in Calgary. He rode horseback and herded cattle onto the rail cars which took them to market. He joined the Armed Forces a couple of years later looking for a steady income and some much needed guidance. He had never had a male role model in his younger years and often fended for himself and his younger siblings. I am quite sure had he not taken that path that his life would have turned out much differently than it did.
I have some letters that my dad wrote my mom while he was away at boot camp and two themes emerged; he was in trouble all of the time and he struggled with 'arithmetic'. He was constantly worried about passing the required testing in math and often wrote letters to Gramma Dot for help. Considering they never really got along that well it was nice to see that she supported him. He made a lifelong career in the Armed Forces along with serving a six month peacekeeping tour in Egypt and countless hours volunteering with the Armed Forces Search and Rescue teams.
My dad was a very social guy, he always knew everyone and always stopped to chat with whoever crossed his path. It was a very difficult time when Mom and Dad had to sell their house so they could move into Stettler due to Mom's health. She was in the hospital in a coma when the time to move came. During the preparations Dad found out that they had more debt than he thought they had (another story). He was going to just let the house go to the bank to cover the costs of the money they owed. Randy, Barb, Bev and Dennis came to help clean up the Donalda house and prepare for a giant garage sale. Randy said that he knows people who bought things just to help out "Billy Brown". He heard stories from many people about the times that Dad had helped them and they wanted to repay his many kindnesses. In fact, the neighbor (who tore down Gramma Dot's house and built a very large house overlooking the coulees) came to ask how much Dad was selling the house for. Dad told the neighbor the amount that would be needed to cover all of his debt at the bank. The neighbor went home and came back with a cheque in the amount Dad had told him. Still brings tears to my eyes to hear that story. He was dealing with all of these decisions while Mom was in the hospital and he didn't know at the time whether she would every be coming home again.
And my mom, Georgina, Victoria Anne Brown, born May 24, 1935 to Albert and Dorathy Watson. She was the second child but the first baby had only survived a few days, not an uncommon event in those hard times. So Mom was raised as an only child.
Albert Elmer Watson (February 3, 1906 - April 20, 1976)
Dorathy Pearl Watson (April 27, 1911 - April 24, 1998)
My Grampa Albert had a grade 3 education and my Gramma Dot, VERY uncommon for the times, finished high school and went on to do a year of Normal School to become a teacher.

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My mom never spoke much about her growing up years. I do know that she was a very serious child who was often ill. She did some of her schooling by correspondence as a young girl and then again when she finished Grade 10, which was her last year of schooling until she was 36 and went back to public school to complete her Grade 12.
My grandfather had a pension (military, I think) and he stayed home to do all of the cooking and cleaning while Gramma Dot worked, this was NOT the norm for the times. Gramma Dot taught mostly at Hutterite colonies and in First Nations communities. This meant that when my mom did attend school, she was always the 'teacher's daughter' and always a visible minority. She never, ever spoke of these times.
She grew up in a house full of music and was an extremely accomplished musician, playing from a very young age. She played accordion and piano without ever having any formal music lessons. In this picture she was playing with a band on a chuckwagon during the Calgary Stampede Parade. I never understood, given the music she grew up with why none of us played an instrument.

For my mom, I am sure life was very hard. She married Dad when she was 18 and had three babies in the next three years (Randy: December 1953, Me: December 1954, Ted: January 1956). There was no birth control in those days and this is often how life was. My parents were very poor and my dad was alcoholic. He was a lot of fun, especially after a drink or two, but I imagine this made for a very challenging life for Mom. She did leave him once in 1962. They had a formal separation and Mom moved the four kids with her to Calgary while Dad stayed in Edmonton. I don't think it's a coincidence that this was the year Bev was born, eight years after me and seven years after Ted. She was working full time to support our family, again unusual in these times and I am sure having to leave her job to raise a baby (no EI in those days) put a financial stress on an already difficult situation. The separation was for one year and at the end of the year we moved back in with Dad. I will write a blog another time with what I remember from that year).
So, my mom worked hard at low paying jobs and my dad often worked a second job besides his Armed Forces job. I remember him working for a moving company and I also remember his working as a bartender. He was almost always happy and cheerful and Mom was tired. The only person I can really remember making her laugh out loud was my brother, Randy.
My mom and I never really had any kind of a relationship at all. I loved doing things with my dad but even during those young years, as much as I loved my dad, I will never understand how she stayed with him. At any rate, they stayed married until the end and enjoyed playing crib together almost every night.
The picture on the right is when Mom and Dad were dating. She is wearing the leather skirt and vest that you have. The picture on the right is from their early married years and the middle picture is their wedding day. The couple to the left and right are my Aunt Lylas (dad's sister) and my Uncle Muff (her husband). The lady on the far right is my Gramma Ruth (Dad's mom) and the picture on the left is Gramma Ruth's mother)
This is Mom, Dad, Randy, me and Ted when we were stationed in France (about 1957)
Jon's and Trish's wedding.
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