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McConnell Memories

Memories List



The following is from pages 294 to 295 of
McConnell Little Town Lost, 1982

Fond Memories by Eleanor Thompson

McConnell for me will always hold fond memories. After all, it is not everyone who can claim ownership to a whole town! I grew up in McConnell, beginning kindergarten at the school and then finishing it at the home of our teacher, Mrs. Nora McConnell. Ours was the class to go to school at McConnell before it was closed.

Going to church was another big event in McConnell. Our whole family would walk to church every Sunday morning where we would sit near the back. I often had to stand on the pew when singing a hymn so I could get a good view of everything. I could hardly wait to go downstairs where we would all sing and then go to class to listen to stories and colour. Presentations of seals and pins and picnics featuring peanut scrambles and races were the year's highlights.

Christmas, always a special time of year, was even more so when celebrated with a concert. It was always so much fun to watch older brothers and sisters in skits and to sing or recite in front of parents. But the best part was the appearance of Santa; all dressed in red and accompanied by jingling bells. A present and a bag of candy was distributed to all the children.

McConnell was a wonderful place to grow up in, even when it began shrinking. We had a great deal of privacy and had free run of everything: whether it was ice-skating with the neighbouring children in the old rink Dad flooded for us, or walking down the track to pick wild flowers. It was very sad to see things gradually shut down; the hall, the school, the church, the general store, my father's service station, the elevator. It was very hard to watch the railway track torn up: I don't know how many times we walked down it to the bridge...

Today McConnell is barren and desolute: a ghost town in every sense of the word. But this is not the real McConnell. The McConnell I remember is one of people: people getting their mail and visiting over a bottle of pop in Dad's shop, people being entertained at a concert, people in solemn prayer in church.

Yes, McConnell may be lonely and unihabited, but the memories of my hometown - indeed my town- will alwayslive in my mind and, more importantly , in my heart.