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A & E PIDGEON AUCTIONS & APPRAISALS
Nova Scotia Auctions -- Cape Breton Auctions
Canadian Maritime Auctioneers
Contact:  Donald or Verna Pidgeon
info@pidgeonauctions.com
Phone/Fax 902-485-5968
(Available Monday to Saturday inclusive from 7 am to 12 midnight
by appointment or by chance except Sundays & Christmas Day)
---------------------------------
 


     Keep us posted and we will insert news submitted           

                 THE HERMIT OF GULLY LAKE
     Probably most of you have read the book published in June 2006 about Willard MacDonald (or as they called him "Kitchener" MacDonald). 
     My take on the story is somewhat different for we knew the MacDonald family well.
     When I was in my teens, Jessie (Willard's mother) lived across the street from us up on Beaches Road in Pictou.  She was a beautiful person,  not just her personality, but physically--she was in her 70's then & her face was clear baby pink & she didn't have a wrinkle.  But altogether, she was a lovely lady--I learned much from her.  To my knowledge, she never spoke a bad word about anybody.  She would not lie to people, but if she knew the truth was going to hurt to the point of causing a problem, she would  not render a comment or an answer.  She was a positive thinking lady and always saw the good in everyone.  And she was a very Godly lady.  
     But the story goes back a lot further than this....my brother, Alden, became close friends with Ronnie (Willard's brother--or nephew as the books says).  I know nothing about that; but I do know that Jessie and Fin (Willard's parents) dearly loved Ronnie.  Unfortunately, the book says he was considered a shame unto them--that is not true for he was the apple of their eyes!
     Now to get on with names, "Fiddlefoot" as we all called him was Willard's father and why they ever call him Howard all through the book beats me, for as long as I can remember, Jessie called him "Fin", short for Findlay.  His full name was either Findlay Howard MacDonald or Howard Findlay MacDonald--whichever, but to everyone, he was known as Findlay or "Fiddlefoot".
     Now Fiddlefoot was a very fine concert violinist and when he was in the States, he played in the Boston Symphony Orchestra (although the book says he didn't).  Mrs. MacDonald told that to me with her own mouth.  And Fin told Alden the same thing.  That is why they lived in Summerville for he was able to board the elevated railway from there to get into the City for work.
     The MacDonald family came back here from the States in the "hungry 30's".  At one point, it was mentioned to my brother that they felt they should return here since war was imminent and Willard would surely have to go to war in the States.  At that time (before the war and a few years into the war), Canada advocated that there would be no conscription here....and thus they felt Canada would be the better place to reside then since the MacDonalds were against killing regardless what the circumstances.  Later, of course, Canada did conscript soldiers and that is how the whole basis for this story occurred when Willard was conscripted and jumped the train carrying the soldiers off to war.  
     The book implies that Fin (Willard's Father) was not much of a breadwinner, in fact even indicates that he was a lazy man.  However, the fact is that he had no trade except professionally playing the violin & working with violins.  And so he did all that he could to earn a living--he made and repaired violins....I can still picture that sign at the end of their lane "Violins Repaired"  (then they lived out in a little one & a half story house right where the exit is to the Causeway in Pictou now).  Things got a bit better in the 40's but in the mid 50's here you couldn't buy a job...everybody was hurting.  And certainly nobody was having violins repaired.  So Fiddlefoot did the next best thing he could--he packed his little pouch of files every day and peddled away to town on his bike and went door-to-door sharpening knives and scissors for 10 to 25 cents apiece....it was long and tedious, but put the bread on the table.
     When Willard realized his parents were so strapped for money in the 50's, my brother remembers they got a message for his father to take a truck out to pick up pelts.  Alden said Willard had trapped all winter and gave his father a large truckload full of mink, beaver and muskrat pelts which took in thousands of dollars which sure was big money in those days.  And that went on every spring as long as Alden could remember.  So neither was Willard a lazy man or uncaring of his family, for he provided for them liberally for several years.  Not only that, but after Willard jumped the train and went to the woods in the 40's, he would slip back home for 4 or 5 days every year when the weather got fine and worked the ground & planted a huge vegetable garden for his folks and then came back in the fall to harvest same.
      As I mentioned earlier, my brother, Alden, and Ronnie (Willard's brother) were close friends since Grade 7.  My brother played the guitar and Ronnie played the violin (which he, of course, learned from his father "Fiddlefoot").
Often Alden went out to Ronnie's place after school with
Ronnie and they played their instruments there.  Alden was intrigued with the MacDonalds.  They were very knowledgeable people - both Fin and Jessie. Alden said he learned much from them.
      It was there at the MacDonald home that Alden met Willard on several occasions when he came home to see his folks.  Usually, he said, when Willard came home, no one knew he was coming--they would just wake up some morning and he'd be out working the garden or fixing something for the folks.  He left the same way.  Alden recalls one time walking into the house when Willard did not know he was there and Willard was playing away on a bagpipe chanter--and very good music, too.  He recalls Willard as being very distant in those times, but very intelligent.
      One time when they were still of school years, Alden and Ronnie hitchhiked out to Diamond and they walked up the old road to MacIntosh Lake where they fished for the day.  I believe Alden said Willard made his abode around MacIntosh Lake in those early times and then later at Gully Lake.  They never saw Willard at all going in or at the lake.  Late in the afternoon, they though they'd better get going down the old road to Diamond and get on their way home.  Although they hadn't seen Willard, he obviously had seen them earlier and though he'd have supper ready for them on the way out.  He met them on the old road and invited them over to the cabin.  There Alden said he had the most fantastic meal he had ever eaten.  It consisted of venison and vegetables of all sorts, but nothing he had ever seen before.  When asked, Willard said they were wild vegetables that grew in the earth.  Alden said they were delicious, but he never saw them again in his whole lifetime.  Along with that he had fresh sourdough bannock ready for them, and, of course, cold spring water to drink.
      Over the years, Alden came across Willard many times.  Once he recalls he came into the old Saturday night dance at West Branch where Ronnie and Alden were playing the music for the dance.  Willard just sat there in the corner and never bothered anyone, just listening to the music.  However, some young thing went over and tried to play up to Willard.  Her boyfriend noticed this and came over to pick a fight with Willard.  Other guys joined in.  That episode ended very fast.  Alden recalls that within 3 to 5 minutes, Willard walked out of the hall and rode away on his bike.  Every other male in the place, except the band members, were lying on the floor trying to pull themselves.  He had taken on the whole hall by himself!
As Alden says, "Willard was one able lad in his day!"
      And so the saga has continued for over 5 decades.
      When Donnie and I were just young, Jessie, Willard's mother, moved into the little house across from us on Beaches Road.  Fin was deceased by then.  Once a month, Jessie would pay us to take her out on a Sunday to see Willard.  She must of had some way of letting him know when she was coming.  We would park on the main road just past Earltown and she would walk up an old road by herself, but sometimes we caught sight of Willard meeting her on the lane and always walking her back to the edge of the woods before darkness set in.  He would wait up there and watch from between the trees until she got into the car.  Jessie took a little bag of things out to him every time she went. 
       Later, our nephew, Duane, who is an adamant hunter, came across Willard in his travels and began taking a 50 lb bag of flour out to him every fall.  On one of those occasions, Willard asked him into the cabin for some bannock. The sourdough bannock was make right on top of the old stove--no pan.  Willard just wiped the worst off the stove and put the dough right on top to cook it.  To my knowledge, Duane did not have any.  But he recalls Willard with great admiration that he could resist the world all that time and be his own person.  The last time that Duane took out a bag of flour was the fall before Willard died.  At that time Willard told Duane that that was the last bag of flour that he would need.

Note:  There is now a Movie-Documentary out now about Willard.  We saw it at the theatre in New Glasgow on 25th of November 2007....It is exceptional....very accurate and had several short video clips of Willard.....it is a true to life thing.  Don't miss it!

 

YARD SALE CAN BE BAD FOR SELLER; GOOD FOR BUYER

Quite recently in the States at a yard sale, a lady put out a still life painting she had hanging around the house & ticketed it at $10.00.
It was snatched up by someone with a bit of knowledge who consigned it to a quality auction where it sold for $52,000.00.

Another interesting recent transaction:
An American lady was willed various items from her mother's home including a painting which the local art gallery told her could fetch several thousand dollars.  She consigned that into a quality auction hoping to get enough money to offset her son's college tuition.  The lady and her husband were painting a closet while watching the auction online and when their painting reached $30,000.00, the husband fell off the stepladder, but when the hammer fell at $620,000.00, they both fell back in shock.  It is expected the painting was by the mid 17th Century Italian Painter, Pier Francesco Mola (although unsigned), but apparently 16 bidders from around the world must have identified it. 

                 THE FACTS OF LIFE IN A NUTSHELL

The following is an interesting e-mail received by us this morning (Jan 9/07):
       "If they know of him at all, many folks think Ben Stein is just a quirky actor/comedian who talks in a monotone. He's also a very intelligent attorney who knows how to put ideas and words together in such a way as to sway juries and make people think clearly.
       The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary:
        'Herewith at this happy time of year, a few confessions from my beating heart: I have no freaking clue who Nick and Jessica are. I see them on the cover of People and Us constantly when I am buying my dog biscuits and kitty litter I often ask the checkers at the grocery stores.   They never know who Nick and Jessica are either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they have broken up? Why are they so important?
       I don't know who Lindsay Lohan is either, and I do not care at all about Tom Cruise's wife.
       Am I going to be called before a Senate committee and asked if I am a subversive? Maybe, but I just have no clue who Nick and Jessica are.
       If this is what it means to be no longer young. It's not so bad.
Next confession:
       I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don' t feel discriminated against. That's what they are: Christmas trees.
       It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, "Merry Christmas" to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact,  I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu.  If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.
       I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.  I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution, and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.
       Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him?   I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too.
       But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we knew went to.
       In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's
intended to get you thinking.
       Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson after Katrina asked her "How could God let something like this Happen?"    Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.
And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"
       In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I
think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK
       Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
       Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about and we said OK.
       Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
       Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW."
       Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.
       Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.
       Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.
       Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.
       Are you laughing?
       Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.
       Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.
       Pass it on if you think it has merit. If not then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in."

May I present my own personal viewpoint here too, at least on a few of the subjects:
       I spring from a large family of Scottish descent--stubborn and bull-headed people who are very opinionated....two characteristics that get people into a lot of trouble.  Did you know that years ago when farmers had a bull that would get unruly, every spring they took him out and tied him between two trees and gave him a few good wacks--he would be good as gold for another year or so and then began to get unruly again.  Well,  basically, I was a good little girl, but just like some of those old bulls, got unruly now and again and needed a good tanning to get straightened out.  (it was called a spanking when you were under 5 and a tanning if you were over 5).  Any spankings or tannings I ever got never left any marks on my body, but certainly left lasting memories to the effect that when someone does something bad, they will suffer consequences.  If that is not taught to a child when they are young, they are going to learn it the hard way when they get older and some times by way of jail or death.   Also, I have learned from the many young people that have worked for us over the last 30 years that verbal scoldings and groundings are a laugh...we hear it all!!!
       Our nephew, Glynn, was only about 7 or 8 years old when the Pictou Causeway was being constructed.  Although he lived well over a mile from the site, the attraction was such that from the time he got up in the morning until construction had ended at night, he spent his time right out where they were dumping the fill, in the way of their work and certainly in great danger (he could not even swim).  His father would search all over Town and each time tracked him down to the Causeway site.  Glynn was warned never to go there again and disobeyed for the third time after which time my brother took charge and tanned him good.  The boy never went back to the site and it was only the licking that kept him away.  Glynn is now in his 40's and has since thanked his father for "caring enough to discipline him"  for his admits now that it was so dangerous there that he does not believe he would be alive today had he continued to frequent the causeway site.  And it was only because he was scared of getting another good tanning that he ceased his visits to the causeway.
       Say what you will about the Ten Commandments, I can honestly say that it was the main things that kept me straight when I was young.  In the late 40's and early 50's there were no TVs around Pictou and the main form of entertainment was the telephone.  Our telephone hung at the end of the Sofa--the old kind that you just picked it up and gave the operator the number you wanted.  Ours was 443....nobody had more than 3 digits then.  The phone was used constantly.  In those times, the Micmacs came across the Harbour in the old Hochelaga Ferry and went from door-to-door selling their wares--baskets galour and sometimes sparkly mottos, too.  My father had purchased one of these mottos-- bright blue with the Ten Commandments in Silver sparkles.  He strategically placed that directly above the telephone where one couldn't use the telephone without seeing it.  Consciously and unconsciously, everybody in the house read it over and over as they used the telephone.  As a tiny little thing, when I got up on Father's knee there on the sofa, I would ask him the meaning of each commandment and when we got to the adultery one, he made it simple for a child and said, "you cannot sleep with anyone until you get married to him" and then he'd add, "Daddy would be very hurt if you did that".....you know, it left such a lasting impression, even in my  teenage years when I could have strayed, the motto was so burnt into my memory that it came before any wide passions.  Likewise with the other commandments!
       Regarding Christmas, I know it has become very commercial, but before a long hard winter, it's so nice just to enjoy a carefree couple days with all the decoration and carols and the manger scenes depicting the real reason for it all, making an apple pie for the little old lady down the road because you want to, not because you feel obligated; and just forgetting about all the cares and worries for a season......nobody will ever erase my memories of Christmas Eve with the smell of turkey roasting in the oven & stoking the old kitchen stove with coal to keep it hot enough to steam the big 15-lb plum pudding from midday to midnight, mother scurrying about to get everything wrapped and under the tree and my father loading the woodbox (as he sang the old songs)--so he could enjoy the whole Christmas Day without having that chore to do....it's really the only time he had a totally free day in the year.    Just the words "Merry Christmas" change the atmosphere--it's a time of love and hope and joy--those two words can and have broken the ice between the harshest of enemies.  Even without a flake of snow on the ground this year, after Donnie was in bed and I was alone downstairs, I looked out the window late Christmas Eve and could visualize a fresh layer of snow with the coloured lights from the Christmas Tree reflecting on it.  I could even hear "Oh, Holy Night" being beautifully sung by my old School Teacher, Jim Sears.....it's all memories and new ones are being added each year-- there's just something so special about Christmastime that  I cannot put it into words exactly, sort of like one of the old songs from the 60's said, "there's a kind of a hush all over the world tonight"....that's how I see Christmas and nobody will ever take that away from me!  Those who have never experienced it don't know what they are missing!  And we have a Menorah here, too--it's all part of the Big Package the way I see it!              Verna Pidgeon

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