Chapter Fourteen Vernon David Skilling

Verne Skilling, the ninth and last surviving child of Agnes Ruxton and John Skilling, was born on August 8, 1900 in Teeswater, Ontario about four years after Norma.  Unable to complete her memoir before she died, Norma wrote very little about Verne. Some details survive in records and letters especially from John to his son living in Toronto in c. 1920s. Photographs of Verne also survive. I will piece together what I can.

Like his siblings before him, Verne was probably born at home with assistance of a midwife. By this time the older children had left home or were in and out. Floss, 22 years older than Verne, had been away working as a milliner in Aurora, ON when Norma was born 4 years earlier.  She was married in March 1902. Maude, 19 years older, taught music and often away from home though she didn’t marry until 1915. Orville 17 years older, left for Toronto the following year and was married in 1907. Gert was 13 and still at home for a few more years as was Bill who was 11. Harold, born after the loss of a son in 1891, was 7 and Norma was 4. Norma talks about herself, Harold and Verne being considered the younger group of Skilling kids.



Verne Skilling Age 9



By the time Verne was born, Agnes had had 10 pregnancies (that we know of) and was 40 years old. John was 47 years old. Their house was small and John earned a tiny sum as a choir leader, salesman of musical instruments and sewing machines, and painter. They were poor by any economic measure. But they were bright, musically gifted and enterprising. A daunting challenge for the younger Skillings.



Verne would have attended primary school and Continuation School in Teeswater as his older siblings had done. Following in their footsteps with probably many of the same teachers, he would have been expected to perform well. No record of his scholastic achievement survives.

We do have some record of his musical achievement. He was considered to be a gifted violinist and by the age of nine, was performing in the Teeswater Methodist Sunday School Orchestra directed by his father John Skilling.



Verne would have taken music lessons at an early age and learned at least two instruments like his older siblings. He seems to have settled on the violin and was said by family stories to have been very talented. By the time he moved to Toronto to work, he was still taking lessons as per his father’s letters chastising him to practice or it wouldn’t be worth paying the $1.00 per lesson.

Verne left home at about age 16 in May 1916 and moved to Toronto where he boarded first with sister Mae at 83 Ellsworth Avenue. 

He got a job about a month later with the Royal Bank as an administrative clerk; he says in a letter to his mother dated January 8, 1917:

“I have a lot of work to do since the stationary order came in. I have to stamp up all the statements  and there certainly are a bunch. All the statements need to be stamped ‘Gerrard & Jones’ (the bank branch?) and a lot of work like that. We get our stationary twice a year and get enough at a time to last, so it has to be quite a lot.”

In another letter dated March 18, 1917 Verne says he has been in Toronto almost 7 months and will have been at the bank for 6 months on the 25^th of March. He mentions going to Timothy Eaton’s Memorial Church and enjoying Reverend Henderson. He attends a violin concert with brother  Will and sister Mae who seems to have procured the tickets through her contacts. He mentions expecting to be called up for military duty, like his older brothers, as soon as he is of age, in about a year and a half (by then the war was over). He apologizes several times for his bad writing and says he is practicing his penmanship every night along with practicing his violin.

By 1921 Vern was living with his sister Maude at 151 Glenholme Ave. His older brothers Bill and Harold were also boarding with Maude and her husband Lambert Stinson.

He met and married Annabelle McMullin in Toronto on April 10, 1922. They were both 21, she, a stenographer, and he, a merchant. (Was he working for Orville?) It may have been a quiet civil ceremony as both witnesses appear to have not been family members and the marriage license shows his religion as Methodist and hers as Roman Catholic.



Verne and Annabelle Skilling
1923

On February 6, 1930 a daughter, Mary Virginia was born to Verne and Annabelle.

To be continued......

Chapter Ten Gert Skilling

Mae was only 22 months when my mother gave birth to Gertrude Edna on April 14, 1887. We all called her Gert though my mother called her Gertie. She was born with the cord wrapped around her neck and nearly died at birth. She had a great many birthmarks on her legs. My mother said Gertie was the cleverest of all her nine children. She walked at seven months. She was quite small in stature and was the prettiest of the Skilling girls. She had green eyes with dark lashes and her skin was ‘peaches and cream’. She was considered a real beauty with her light brown hair that shone almost luminously.

Gert’s feet were tiny and she had a pair of highly desirable ‘Queen Quality’ shoes that I wanted so much for her to hand down to me. But even though Gertie was 9 years my senior, I soon passed her in size and alas, never could get even my big toe into her ‘Queen Quality’ shoes. She really was a little Cinderella and I often used to feel like the ugly sister with my freckles and taller stature by about age 14. I don’t think I ever bore her any ill will.

After going to Normal School, Gert came back to Teeswater to teach for a few years in a rural School called the Eighth School. She commuted the 2 ½ miles back and forth daily on a bicycle. I loved to go out there to her school for special occasions like Christmas concerts and spring picnics where I got to know a lot of her pupils. She also taught in Teeswater School in the Primary room which was a separate building, when I was in about Grade Eight (called Senior Fourth at that time).One day when we were lined up to march into our classroom, Gert came out of the big school to go to the old stone school where the primary classes were held, and one of my classmates remarked with admiration: “Isn’t she a dainty little piece, though?” I was surprised, thrilled and proud. I had always just considered her my sister and did not appreciate her beauty.

by S.Askin
Teeswater, Ont.

After teaching around Teeswater for a few years, Gert did a very courageous thing and accepted a position in Calgary, Alberta, which to me seemed like the end of the world. We looked forward to her letters wanting to read about the exciting things happening in her life. Each year at Christmas a box arrived from Gert that was the highlight of our Christmas season. Besides sending unique and very acceptable gifts for us all, she enclosed holly and pine cones and all sorts of decorative pieces. At that time presents were not wrapped in gift wrappings. Today I remember the imaginative and artistic little decorations more than I remember any of the gifts. She had a real talent for the beautiful and unusual, much more than was often appreciated at that time.

by Arthur Studio
Detroit, Mich.

She met Harvey Kavaner in Calgary and in due time they were married. To save money they were quietly married there on June 1, 1915 and came home on their honeymoon. I remember they were very lovey-dovey. Harvey was a member of the Calgary Grain Exchange and later became very successful. In honour of the occasion, my father painted the house.

Gert and Harvey had three children, Merren, born in 1916, Jean, born in 1919 and Harvey Jr., born in 1920.  They moved to Winnipeg around this time and Harvey became President of the Red River Grain Company.

In 1921 I went out to teach at River Heights School in Winnipeg at Gert’s invitation and lived with them. Merren was five, Jean was two and Harvey was one year old.  There was a year and a day between Jean and Harvey. 

Gert was very talented at interior decorating. Even when she lived at home she would make curtains and hangings with lovely stenciling. Her home was always beautiful. She taught me a lot later after I was married about how to change a room around with a few adept changes and enhance the appearance.

Gert was at least 50 years ahead of her time regarding nutrition. She could have been a doctor, so well informed was she about so many things which she put into practice. In 1924 she got grain from the milling company, did research and experimented using her little hand meat grinder, with different combinations of wheat, rye and flax until she formulated the recipe for a tasty and healthy hot porridge which she named Red River Cereal. I was happy to have a part in introducing this product in 1926 at the Toronto Exhibition. Grace and Vern and I made porridge and served it with real cream in tiny portions while explaining the healthy ingredients: wheat, rye and flax. This cereal has been on the market ever since.

Kavaner Family

Sadly, little Jean died in 1926 just before her 7^th birthday, when her dressing gown caught on fire after touching the red hot element of an electric heater. This caused a great deal of grief in the family and strained relations between Gert and Harvey.

They built a very grand home at 901 Wellington Crescent and moved in 1929. In the summer of 1930, Mae, Wadd and Doris Mason and Grace Skilling drove to Winnipeg to spend 6 weeks of the summer with the Kavaners and were feted at a huge garden party there. I never saw the house but heard about it from those who had. That year the exterior and interior of the house on Wellington Crescent, was featured in Canadian Homes and Gardens.

Gert Skilling Kavaner

Alas, the crash of October 1929 had tragic effects on the fortunes of the Kavaners and they were later forced to sell their beautiful mansion.

In December 1936 Gert came home to visit our parents and arrived just a few hours after our mother’s death from pneumonia. Our father was senile and quite a problem. In fact I think this hastened our mother’s death. Gert took hold of the situation and cared for our father until his death the following July in 1937. She got some tutoring jobs and some part-time teaching at Moulton College and she ran the house where mother had roomers after we all had left.

The shock of mother’s sudden death and the pressure of caring for our father compounded the earlier trauma of her little Jean’s death from the fire. When her son Harvey left to join the war as a pilot in 1939, Gert had a stroke and a nervous breakdown. She was hospitalized and after a lingering illness died in Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Toronto in 1946 just a month before her grandson Craig was born to daughter Merren and George Murray. Her kindness and consideration for others knew no bounds, but her body could not stand all the pressures.  She gave so much, to so many. A clever, sensitive person to whom life dealt too many blows.

Chapter Eight Orville Skilling

Orville was born June 16, 1883. He was only 13 when I was born but I have no early recollection of my eldest big brother. He was always playful with me and taught me how to waltz, although dancing was frowned upon by our parents. With a lovely tenor voice, he would often sing “Goodbye My Bluebell” and other songs popular at the time of the Boer War. He used to slip me the odd penny and would dance me on his knees. He had a quick temper that would sometimes flare up but was soon over. When we used to stand around the piano and he would sing with that clear beautiful tenor voice putting harmony, I was really in heaven.

Orville left school when he was quite young and went to Toronto. He married Rose Darling there in 1909 and she was a wonderful wife. Their home was a happy one and whenever I visited, there was a lot of fun and laughter. When they were first married they lived on Wascana Avenue in Cabbagetown, when it really was Cabbagetown. Orville was a very hard worker and had a great talent for business. He started off working for himself going door to door selling butter and eggs. Soon he had a horse and wagon and continued to expand. (If you have seen the Kraft Cheese ad on television, you know what kind of wagon I mean.)As his business grew, he bought 311 Jones Avenue, a block above Riverdale Collegiate with a large yard and stables in the back, and a lane at the side of the house. Before long he had about 12 employees and was doing a thriving business.

Orville and Rose had four children: Grace, the twins Jack and Marion, then a son Harold William, the latter named after my brothers Harold and Bill, both off fighting in France at the time of his birth.

When the twins were 9 months and Grace was about 3, I spent 2 months of the summer holiday helping Rose with housework and the children. I was only 16 and had a lot to learn. Rose taught me so much and gave me good advice. I am forever grateful to her. She also made me some very nice dresses.

At Easter 1918 I was in Normal School and had to have a very serious operation for appendicitis with complications of a bowel perforation and gangrene. There was no Ontario Health Insurance then and I had no money. My wonderful big brother Orville paid the doctor and all my hospital expenses.

When the Spanish Influenza epidemic struck in September 1918, I had just started teaching. My school was closed so I went back to Teeswater along with sister Gert and 2 year old Merren who were visiting from Calgary. Gert was pregnant with Jean and it was said that this flu could be fatal for pregnant women. In Toronto Orville was sick in bed but got up to go and help the widow of one of his employees who had succumbed to the flu. He returned, went to bed, and never got up. His little daughter Marion died on October 18^th and Orville on October 21^st. They were buried in the same grave in Mount Pleasant Cemetery.

Orville was a going concern when he died at 35 years of age. He was a good father as well as a wonderful husband, son and brother. He left behind a grieving widow, a daughter Grace of 6 ½, Jack nearly 5 and Harold only 16 months. Young Harold was just walking then and carried his father’s hat wherever he went for days after Orville’s death.

The world lost a wonderful man in his prime and on his way to his first million dollars. He left behind a great many descendants who will carry on his tradition of doing good in the world.

Chapter Seven Maude Skilling

The second child born to our parents was Eugenia Maude on June 29, 1881. Like Floss, she had bright brown eyes and dark hair, but a much quieter and gentler manner than her older sister. She had a lovely singing voice and was an accomplished pianist.

She too, was away from home when I was little, but spent more time in Teeswater in my childhood than Floss. She was very loving and treated us younger children with affection and grace. She played the violin in the Teeswater Orchestra and had music pupils in Gorrie, Fordwich, and Wroxeter in Huron County, as well as being organist on the large pipe organ in the big church in Gorrie. These villages were not far from Teeswater so she got home fairly often. She travelled to these places by train and the fare was only a few cents in those days.

I was always delighted when Maude came home. She would curl my hair and never pulled when she was combing it. I loved to hear her play the piano. Whenever singers came to give concerts in Teeswater, she was called on as an accompanist and complimented for her skill. The ‘Sons of Scotland’ used to bring talent and put on what we called the ‘Scotch Concert’ every year in Teeswater. Maude used to tell me how the performers made up behind the scenes: added little false curls to their hairdo and even painted their cheeks. 

Maude married Lambert Stinson from Gorrie in 1915. He was quite a humorist and always looked nice as he was a very classy dresser. He was quite a clever man and the story was that he had passed his exams for University Entrance at age 15 and his parents enrolled him in Victoria College. They later were informed that Lambert had never turned up for classes; so his father went down to investigate and found his son working at pasting up signs on billboards. He just didn’t want to go in for higher learning. When Maude met him he was the proprietor of a little butcher shop in Gorrie, Ontario.

Maude and Lambert left Gorrie after their marriage and went to live in Toronto. Maude always had a large piano class and kept a number of boarders, usually teachers. Lambert worked for my brother Orville in the office as a bookkeeper. After Orville died in 1918 Lambert became a car salesman. Maude sang as a paid singer in the Eaton Memorial Choir and was one of Sir Ernest MacMillan’s favourite choristers. Lambert also sang there.

Maude and Lambert never had any children and this was a great disappointment to them. (She had a large tumour removed from her uterus at one time.) Maude however showered a lot of love on her little nieces and nephews. Orville’s children, Jack, Grace and Harold, all went up to Aunt Maude’s every Saturday morning for their gratis music lessons. Our two children were too young to avail themselves of her wonderful talents as a teacher, but she loved them dearly and they loved her too.

When Ray and I were married in 1926, Maude took over complete responsibility for the catering and had plates for 30 guests. As there was no refrigeration then, these plates were all taken down to the cool basement and carried up again for the wedding supper. I wonder if I ever thanked her enough.

Maude had a thyroid condition which was wrongly diagnosed by her doctor. When she went to have the operation, it was too late, and she succumbed to complete dehydration*. My dear, gentle, patient, kind, loving and generous sister passed away too soon at 59 years of age.

* An autopsy showed that she died of rheumatic heart disease 3 May 1941 at Toronto General Hospital

Chapter Four My Mother Agnes Ruxton

My mother Agnes Ruxton was born on July 3, 1860 in Woolwich Township, Waterloo County, Ontario. She married John Skilling when she was about 17 in about 1877. I don’t know the date or the year because they never mentioned their wedding anniversary and I regret that I never questioned them. I do know that all the ladies wore hoops under their skirts at that time.

I remember my mother telling me of the time when it was becoming fashionable for the girls to leave off their hoops. Another girl dared her to go to an event without her hoops, promising to do likewise. My mother took up the dare but the other girl chickened out, much to my mother’s great embarrassment.

My mother’s father was named Andrew[1] Ruxton and her mother was Nancy Smith, a Pennsylvania Dutch girl I am told. She died of cancer before I was born.

My mother was a gentle, sweet, kind woman.  She had been a tailoress before being married and was quite musical. She had a good alto voice and usually sang in Father’s choirs when she was not pregnant or nursing a baby. They had 10 children all born in Teeswater. So you see our dear little mother had little time for anything else but mothering and housekeeping.

Agnes Ruxton Skilling

My mother did not have many conveniences. There was no hydro or indoor plumbing of course, and I remember how the wind would whistle up the holes of what was politely called “the water closet”. We never had a well but got our drinking water from our next door neighbour’s pump. We had a cistern which provided lovely soft rain water for bathing and laundry.

Saturday night was bath night and the wash tub was brought in to the kitchen beside the nice warm wood-burning stove.  There was a copper tank at the back of the wood-stove which, if kept filled with soft water, provided hot water for dishes and the bath. It was usually supplemented with the copper wash boiler which was put on top of the stove. We each took our turn in order of age, beginning with the youngest. Some water was dipped out and some clean water put in after each bather finished.

Bathing was only one ritual of the weekend. Our shoes were also all polished and set out ready for Sunday. Wood and kindling were split and neatly laid out for Sunday morning’s fire. Often the vegetables were prepared and as much work as possible done so that the Sabbath could be religiously kept.

On Sundays no music except hymns could be sung or played. No sports could be indulged in. One activity permitted was taking a walk. In my mid-teens a young man, a student at the university, came home and took his younger two brothers skating on the pond. There was a great hue and cry from all the church members. This was aggravated by the fact that these were the sons of superintendent of the Sunday School who had so gravely sinned by ‘breaking the Sabbath’.

Our family of John and Aggie were taught to respect the Sabbath and to eschew all forms of card playing and dancing. We attended church services at 11 a.m., then Sunday school at 2:30 p.m., and back to the evening service at 7 p.m. Then we often went for a walk depending on the weather or the season. Usually our family would go home, bringing a friend or two, to have a sing-song around the piano. We all sang in harmony, with someone holding the lamp so that whoever was playing could see the music. My brother Orville had a particularly beautiful tenor voice as did Harold. My father and Bill were baritones and Mother, Mae and Gert were alto. Maude and I sang soprano and we certainly all delighted in harmonizing the old gospel songs. Then we went up to bed, carrying a lamp to each of the upstairs bedrooms.

My mother was a peace loving woman. She always seemed to be making excuses for anyone who got into trouble for failing to reach a very high standard of character or behavior. That is not to say she wasn’t high spirited or couldn’t on occasion get very angry, but at the same time, I think of her as the most compassionate person I ever knew. How else could she have kept her sanity while raising 9 children, all so different and all of whom adored her? I do not think I ever heard her say “I love you” but there was no doubt in any of our minds that she did love us all dearly. I recall one day some kids made some insulting remark to me that hurt me greatly. Who it was or what was said has been long forgotten. I do remember as I ran home crying I was thinking: “Well if nobody else likes me, I know that Ma does anyway.”

We never had much money but the thought that we were poor never entered our heads. In fact, at special occasions like Christmas, we always gave to the poor. Our mother kept us well-dressed even though she would have to rip up a thread-bare overcoat and turn the nice new-looking inside to the outside. When our older brothers and sisters outgrew their clothes, we younger ones fell heir to them. I rarely had a brand-new dress, but I was so proud of my sisters’ clothes that I couldn’t wait until they discarded them.

My mother’s sister Emma, whose husband, uncle Alvah Watson was stationmaster for the railroad in Michigan, often sent us a parcel of her used clothing. We received with delight these fine clothes made of beautiful fabrics. Mother would often sit up till long after midnight, with the lamp placed in a strategic position on the treadle sewing machine, in order to have some garment or outfit ready for a special occasion for one of us.

My mother always moved very quickly when chopping things up or rolling out pie crust or kneading bread. Her very large eyes were brown but not dark brown. I suppose you could call them hazel. I often used to see her deep in thought, staring out into the distance with those warm brown eyes wide open and her thoughts far away. She had very long, lovely dark brown almost black hair which she wore in a large coil at the back of her head, called a ‘Psyche’ knot. She often wore it parted in the middle and drawn back in waves over her ears to the back. These waves were achieved by winding the hair back and forth through very large hairpins kept for that purpose. I loved to brush her hair which came down to the choir seat. In those days women considered it an accomplishment to be able to sit on their hair. As she grew older, her hair became streaked with grey but never white. She never had it cut. Rosemary and Ned have inherited hair similar to my mother’s and I like to think mine used to be like hers too.

[1] likely her father was David Ruxton not Andrew

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Chapter Three My Father John Skilling



Agnes & John Skilling and his sister
c. 1878



My father John Skilling, the oldest son of John Skilling and Marion Cochrane, was born in Galt, Ontario on December 8, 1853. He was 11 years old when his father was killed and he had to quit school and get a job to help with the finances. I don’t know exactly what my father did at that time, but I’m sure there was a great deal of variety because, as I remember him, he could turn his hand to almost anything. He was a self-taught man and read everything he could in science, history and world geography.

As he grew up, he became a master painter of houses, not pictures, but re-graining of woodwork in houses, very popular at the time. He taught himself to sight read music using the “sol-fa method”, and in later years he conducted many “singing schools” around the rural areas. This was often the only way many people could achieve proficiency in music. His classes gave them the opportunity to learn music and brought pleasure to their lives. He was very musically gifted and had perfect pitch. He taught himself to play many instruments including the piano, organ, violin, trumpet and trombone.

My father kept his tuning fork in his vest pocket, the way men keep their Parker pens nowadays. One of my earliest memories is hearing him get out his tuning fork, tap it on the table to find middle C, sing ‘doh, so, me, doh’ and then start to sight read a pile of new songs just sent to him by various music publishing houses in the city.

My father used to be a choir leader in our Methodist church (now United ). But, by 1903 some larger churches such as Knox Presbyterian were eager for his services, not only in Teeswater, but in Wingham and other surrounding larger towns. When he was away, his pupils would take over in Teeswater. He was leader of the first ‘Old Boys and Girls Reunion Choir’ in 1905. His choirs were highly praised by visitors from other parts of Ontario.

All my brothers and sisters were very musical and sang and played in Father’s choirs and orchestras. By 1909 there was a Teeswater Methodist Sunday School Orchestra in which my brother Vernon, at 9 years of age, played the violin.

In addition to directing choirs and orchestras, John Skilling was an entrepreneur. His personal stationary letterhead around 1903 read as follows:

“John Skilling – Dealer in High-Grade pianos, organs, gramophones and records, small instruments, books and music, sewing machines, etc.”

He travelled to places like Gorrie, Bervie, Proton, and Port Elgin by horse and buggy. It is said that he had a horse, thin and poor looking, that he called ‘Ladysmith’. When eventually the horse died and was replaced by another similar one, the local men called her ‘The Relief of Ladysmith’.

In 1917-18 my father travelled by train to Neepawa, Manitoba, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan and Calgary, Alberta to sell musical instruments. While in Neepawa visiting my sister Floss, he stayed for awhile working at tuning pianos and giving vocal lessons.

Teeswater Methodist Sunday School Orchestra
c. 1909

By 1917 John Skilling was directing a male chorus in Teeswater. His choirs and orchestras put on concerts in halls and schools in the Teeswater area. In 1917 he did a musical play called “The New Minister” which was performed in the Town Hall in Wingham as well as in Teeswater.

John Skilling died after a brief illness in Toronto in July 1937 at the age of 83.