In 1976, I got my first full-time summer job as a member of the Memphremagog Conservation Patrol. I was sixteen years old. I had worked on the patrol as a volunteer for a few days during the two preceding summers, making $5.00 a day the first year and $7.00 the second.
On Saturday, August 22, 2009, at La Providence Hospital in Magog, Muriel Ball Duckworth, died peacefully, at the age of 100, surrounded by her children. Mrs. Duckworth had fallen and broken her leg shortly after arriving in Austin for her annual summer visit. She was a descendent of Nicholas and Phebe Austin, the founder of Bolton Township.
Like most people, I never paid much attention to cemeteries when I was young. I would see them alongside roads in travels with my parents and I knew that I had ancestors buried in some of them. But in general, cemeteries were places for kids to avoid.
It was mid-November and the sky overhead was a brilliant shade of blue when we arrived at the Sherbrooke home of our guide for the day, Isabell MacArthur Beattie.
(Continued from On the Trail of the Scots, Part 1)
TRADITION EUROPÉENNE
I am often dismayed by all the ‘negative news’ in the press, perpetuating what I see as a culture of fear; headlines about all the dangers out there, real and invented. I fully understand that these kinds of headlines are what lure readers in a highly competitive market.
O Canada! Our home and native land
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise
The True North strong and free!
Depuis le mois de janvier 2002, la municipalité indépendante de Bromptonville (anciennement Brompton Falls), District # 1 de la Ville de Sherbrooke, a joint d'autres villes du secteur en tant qu'arrondissement du Grand Sherbrooke. Lennoxville, Rock Forest, Fleurimont, Deauville, Saint-Élie-d'Orford, Stoke et Ascot ont parcouru le même chemin.
Les témoins de notre passé se retrouvent partout. Ceci s’applique tout aussi bien à nos anciennes écoles de rang à pièce unique. Ces humbles édifices de dimensions restreintes se retrouvent fréquemment à la croisée des chemins des Cantons-de-l’Est, nous rappelant l’époque où l’on envoyait ses enfants à l’école voisine.