Cora Schade

I was a young school principal in 1956 in a bilingual private school in Temiscaming ,Quebec. I was hired while living in Pointe Claire by the International Pulp $ Paper Company. I was to be the principal of the elementary section of the school and play hockey for the Temiscaming Royals of the Northern Ontario-Quebec Senior  Hockey League. At the end of my year there appeared an opening for a principal of a elementary public school in Magnetawan. A friend of mine wished me to move to Ontario where the prospects of advancement were greater and I could still follow my small hockey career,

In Temiscaming I was receiving $2800 for my work in education and a like amount for hockey. I was offered $3800 for being the principal of the regional school and responsibilities with some one room schools. I interviewed for the job and was asked to consider the boards offer. I loved my present position but realized that Ontario was the better option for me. I accepted the position.

One of my fellow hockey players had a mother living in the village and as she was in her eighties she needed company. The recent death of her son caused her stress and she was not sure how to deal with this. Wardie asked me to consider living with Cora as a possibility. I went to see her and though we would be a good match. She was a proud, gruff German Canadian who laid down the rules. $40 a month room and board and she would do the washing and ironing. It sounded good to me and we shook hands,

On the last days of August I arrived at her house and moved in. I never had many clothes or baggage but a big appetite. Cora made German food and baked in the same mode. We hit it off and for the next few days she gave me a lesson about the area and the school board members. She singled out the trouble makers in the school district and who would be supportive etc, I listened and learned. She was a religious person and respected me for going to church and being a lay preacher.We would eat supper together and sit in the living room to watch the news and talk world affairs.

She was a simple woman but had a brain as sharp as a tack. She had her political biases but respected the privacy of each person to choose their way.Cora would ask me what I wanted to eat for supper every night for the next day but rarely gave me what I asked for. I questioned her on that and she explained that I never asked what she wanted so she did her own thing. She loved sauer kraut and rough sausage and at first I never cared for them. I soon learned to love her food. In the fall she asked me to set aside a certain day for a special helping day. I agreed and when that day came so did a couple of bushels of cabbage. We were going to make kraut.

We did indeed, three kinds and I did the work as she gave the orders. She laughed and we had a great time.Three large crocks of kraut that would be ready for eating in a few weeks. I learned a good lesson at that time and have made Kraut for years after. Cora's maiden name was Wuurm and always told the story of her going to the local dances and being asked to dance by the local boys with the expression, would you like to wiggle wuurm? Every time she told the story she would slap her leg and give out that great free blast of joy.

Cora looked after me as if I were her son and I looked upon her as a away Mom. She was 84 and I was twenty but we had so much in common. When I went out on a date with one of the local girls I was filled in with a total life history and a few words of advice.

Her son who died from cancer was a Presbyterian minister who was an outstanding athlete and an accordion player who entertained many with his music. One day when I was in the washroom I opened a cabinet door and there was this accordion all wrapped up in tape. Not knowing the circumstances I took off the tape and began playing. I heard this scream from down stairs and Cora yelling Alderman's name. She bounded up the stairs and grabbed the accordion from my grasp and with a look of total disdain she scolded me. Naturally I felt badly but never knew the cause. That supper time was difficult for me. I stayed quiet until she explained the true shock and impact his death had on her.

I apologized and she cried and forgave me. A week later on the Saturday ,Cora asked me to take our tea in the living room. When I sat down there was the accordion by my chair. Cora smiled and asked me to play a hymn for her. She cried a little but this became a ritual and she said I brought back his spirit with my playing but it was pail by comparison to his renditions.

Time went fast during those two years I lived with Cora and when I married and left we wrote and telephoned until her death some few years later. Cora was a steady hand and character builder in my early life and I visit her grave sight where she is laid to rest close to my first wife Roma. Cora and Roma were related in more ways than one and filled those years back in Magnetawan with joy when I was young and needed friendship and love.