Russell Street Memories ( a Sentimental Journey Home): This Way Is My Way

Front Cover
iUniverse, Sep 27, 2010 - Religion - 100 pages

It was upon the rude awakening of my fathers death that I first took notice of my mother. There she stood at 43 years of age, overweight and slovenly. Our father had always been so immaculate about himself but our mother seemed to let herself go. Perhaps it was because she had so many children to take care of, or even that her marriage had soured, who knows? Whatever it was that was going on with her personally at the time was immensely overshadowed by the fact that her husband was dead, and she was left with a pile of children to raise. A financially strapped future faced us all. She, being of sound mind and body took on the task at hand, putting her family and its needs fi rst, quite often doing without for herself. Vivian Gillis Canton, these are her stories........

 

Contents

Preface
1
COAL
2
A Winter In Amherst
6
And So it Goes
8
Newsreel 1956 Explosion in the Springhill Mine
10
A Coal Miners Story
12
As The Snowflakes Gently Fall
18
As the Crow Flies
20
Giant of a Woman
50
My Funny Valentine
52
My Grandmothers Kitchen
54
Mothers Control the Pages Of Time
56
The Thought of Anne
60
The Songs in my Heart
62
Remembering Rhonda
66
Grieving
70

More Coal
22
Double Wedding
26
A Mothers Soul
30
frEaK
32
Life is a Restaurant
34
It Happened One Christmas
38
Jack Rabbit
42
Life With Brian
46
Within My Heart
72
Thats All I Ask
74
Winter Meeting
76
The Color of Coal
80
A Springhill Christmas
84
Shelly Gee I am Sorry
88
Another Pot o Tea
90
Copyright

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About the author (2010)

At the urging of my friends and family I am publishing a book about my life growing up on Russell Street and the lessons I learned at the hands of my mother. Russell Street Memories is really a tribute to my life there. I was born the fifth of seven natural children to Bert and Vivian Canton. We grew up in a house that our father built and our mother filled with life, laughter and love. My father passed away when I was eleven and that left my mother in a tight spot. I grew to admire her immensely because she was truly a survivor. All of the stories have one thing in common, my mother. The only thing I ever wanted was for her to be proud of me. I think she is. You can reach me, and please do at www.toddcanton.com

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