Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines

LE BON SANG CANADIEN

by      Louise Dubrule

    That was Mama’s favorite way of describing the hardiness and courage of our ancestors. She would remind us that they faced life’s troubles and hardships head-on, never complaining or giving up in the face of desperate times.

    Grandfather Victor Philippon was a hale and healthy man until he was in his early twenties. His family belonged to a farmers’ cooperative, and all members took turns driving the milk and other products to market. On one particular day, Victor took the wagon and during the journey to town his horse spooked for some reason and took off in a panic. The harness traces gave way, but Victor was still connected by the reins that were wrapped around his hands. Victor was dragged for some distance, and in the process he broke a dozen assorted bones. He was eventually found and brought home where he was wrapped tightly in strips of sheets and put in his bed to heal with time. The breaks mended, some better than others, and Victor was left with a noticeable limp so that he carried a cane for the rest of his life. He could have said “Poor me,” but he picked himself up and went to work as a farmer, just as his father and grandfather had done. He married twice, fathered ten children, made the move from La Beauce in Quebec to northern Vermont, and never looked back. Le bon sang Canadien.

    Grandfather Eugène Lévesque was cut from the same bolt of sturdy cloth. He worked at several trades to support his family, even going into the deep woods for lumbering during the winter when the farm fields lay under feet of snow. His surviving sons were growing and would need a start in life, so Eugène signed up with a patron to go open up virgin territory north of Lac St. Jean and he spent long days and weeks clearing land. He contracted tuberculosis that affected his throat, but he continued to work until the disease took him. Le bon sang Canadien.

    Meanwhile, his wife Félixcine exhibited the same kind of courage. She bore twelve children and buried seven of them before they were four years old. She followed Eugène to the lumber camps and did the cooking and washing for the crews. When Eugène died, she took to the fields and finished out the contract with the patron, finally gaining title to land for her and her sons. Le bon sang Canadien.

    Moe’s grandfather Albert Gravel was a special person. When he was a teenager, he was shot in an unknown incident and a minnie ball lodged just under a shoulder blade. Folks didn’t run to the doctor in those days, so the lump of ammo stayed there. When he married he worked in a factory to feed his large family of eight children and never mentioned the minnie ball. At age 86 he was still climbing up on his roof to shovel off the snow. He grew grapes and made wine which he stored to serve when guests came, and he was a talented carpenter and puzzle-maker. He outlived his wife by some thirty years and he started his day with daily Mass. His one and only stay in the hospital was for a minor procedure when he was 100 years old. The doctor came in and said that the routine chest X-ray had been mixed up, for it showed the skeleton of a younger man, and that person had a bullet of some sort in his back. His daughter, Margaret, said “That’s him.” He kept this so quiet that some family members didn’t know this story until very recently. He finally closed his eyes in peace at age 103. Le bon sang Canadien.

    I’ve written about Mama’s gypsy-like life as the family followed her father from farm to lumber camp and back again, and then to wilderness. After she married Papa, she worked in the fields and barns along side the men; and when we moved to town she found herself working the night shift in a factory during World War II, making plywood packing cases for the U.S. Army. Oh, yes, she continued her duties as wife and mother during the day. She learned to cook in great quantities and was a valuable asset to the hotel and school lunch program. After Papa died, she took classes in English and business math, obtained a driver’s license for the first time, and she headed the kitchen at a premiere summer resort on Lake Champlain until she was in her late 70s. She finally retired after breaking a hip when she took a fall in the dark. Later, she battled cancer without a murmur and slipped away quietly so as not to make a fuss. Le bon sang Canadien.

    Papa? His life story, “Remembering Papa,” appeared in the January 2005 issue of ROOTS, and he proved time and time again that he was filled with le bon sang Canadien.

    I like to think that we’ve carried on the tradition. Brother John buried three wives and was courageous enough to marry a fourth time. Along the line, he received two hip replacements. Those with that good Canadian blood don’t give up. My sister Simone cared for a terminally ill husband alone for several years, and recently she had both hips replaced herself. She’s recovered enough to enjoy travel again. Moe and I have faced numerous serious challenges in the last three years, but we face every day with optimism and gratitude.

    I am so certain that there are many readers who can add their own stories to what I have started, for the French-Canadians are a hardy breed with spirit to spare. I am also certain that we’d all like to hear about those special people with "le bon sang Canadien".

 

Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines
Copyright © 2003 & 2004 & 2005 & 2006 & 2007 Norm Léveillée
© Tous droits réservés
Created 1 Feb 2003