Death has a funny way of
bringing back good memories! This was certainly the case in
December. First Mrs. Jean Sider died on December 5th. Jean was the
wife of Romie Sider of Wainfleet; a farmer, preacher, hatchery man
and generally nice guy! Then Gove Merritt, a well known funeral
director and hatchery man from Smithville died at home on December
15th.
While growing up at Port Maitland I enjoyed
having poultry as pets, ducks and geese being my favourite. One
year for passing, my father bought me four Muscovy ducklings from
Harry Downey on Niece Road; this after Wilbert and Lyle Niece
refused to sell me any. They didn=t subscribe to the theory ducks
could or should be pets.
Then while attending School in
Stromness, I had a teacher by the name of Miss Jo-Anne Smith. Miss
Smith later married Steve Garec, and recently retired from Anna
Melick School. Miss Smith came from a farming family near Acton
where her parents and grandparents along with her six younger
brothers and little sister Marie, raised among other things geese.
It was Miss Smith who introduced me to geese and indirectly Romie
Sider. Her father sent me five fertilized goose eggs to have
hatched. After checking with the farmers in the area who we
thought would permit one of their geese or hens to set the eggs
and failing, my father learned about Romie Sider who lived on #3
Hwy near Chambers Corners. Romie had a commercial incubator and
agreed to hatch my eggs. No success! He was soon able to tell me
the eggs were not going to hatch. Disappointed but not defeated,
Dad and I headed back to see Romie, where we purchased four young
Roman Geese.
Romie's hatchery was intriguing to me and
for a number of Saturdays each spring I would ride my bicycle
along the Feeder Canal to Wainfleet, then to Chambers Corners and
finally to the Sider farm. I learned a lot about caring for young
poultry from Romie.
Some of you may recall I worked at
the Ballard Funeral Home during my high school days. I wanted to
be a funeral director, but somehow became distracted and for a
number of years worked as an ambulance attendant. This took me to
St. Catharines in the early 1970's where I became involved with
the Niagara Peninsula Crippled Children=s Centre located across
from Brock University. One spring, I decided the children needed
to experience hatching poultry and asked their Director, Ann
Davidson if I could bring a small incubator into one of the class
rooms and hatch some chicken eggs. Her mistake was to agree! I
found a company in Toronto who sold incubators and convinced them
to donate one to us. Then I visited a small hobby farm at Port
Weller and convinced the fellow to donate some goose and duck
eggs. Note goose and duck eggs, not chicken eggs as I had
suggested to Ann. I had them timed to hatch the days following
Easter break and had the kids all hyped up for the big day. By the
Monday before Easter it was clear that all we had was a bunch of
rotten eggs. The kids were not going to be disappointed no matter
what it took! I remembered Gove Merritt from my days with Howard
Ballard and thought maybe he could help. My wife Carole and I made
a visit to his hatchery which was attached to the funeral home and
spent most of an evening talking eggs and egg stories. Gove had
just returned from the Toronto Airport after picking up some very
rare swan eggs and was consequently proud of being asked to hatch
these scarce and precious eggs. We left that night with a dozen
(donated) ready to hatch duck and chicken eggs. I don=t know where
Gove got these eggs from or how he missed the mark, but everyone
of them was premature! On Good Friday we began a three day vigil
caring for our hatchlings. By Easter Monday we had chicks and
ducklings coming out our ears. The kids never got to see one of
them hatch! We ended up taking two of the most sickly ducklings
home. (That is another story -of illegally having ducks in the
middle of the city!)
The Centre has a first-rate
courtyard with a patio door leading from the staff lunch room.
Once the ducklings and chicks were old enough to be put out they
were housed in the courtyard. The sod along with the tulips and
daffodils that had been lovingly planted by volunteers the fall
before became the greens for the young ducklings and the ground so
carefully prepared for the bulbs made great scratching for the
chicks. As the children struggled along the hallways on crouches,
walkers and in wheelchairs, they took great delight having their
two legged pets follow them. A few bread crumps on the floor and
those birds would follow you anywhere! Of course what goes in must
come out, and behind the ducks and chickens was a teacher or
volunteer with a roll of paper towels or a mop. Soon the misplaced
birds wore out their welcome with the adults. The May heat, the
destruction of the spring gardens, and my inability to keep up to
my manure duties made the staff room unbearable and brought a
speedy end to our experiment. A hobby farm in Fonthill accepted
our little menagerie of ASpecial Needs@ birds. Then on the Friday
of Victoria Day Weekend, Young Sod Farms in Fonthill donated and
delivered enough sod to replace what the foul birds had destroyed.
Carole and I spent another holiday weekend repairing the damages
from the ill conceived product of good intentions hatched on
Easter Weekend.
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Joanne Smith with Dan and Marilyn Hall Jan. 1959
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Joanne Smith Dianna Lynn Dickhout, Jim Nie, Keith
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