My mother, Melita Mary Priestley, was the first 'white' child born on the Upper Nass River in Northern British Columbia. She was the daughter of the Reverend James B. McCullagh, the first Anglican missionary in that area. A small lake of volcanic origin was named 'Melita Lake' in her memory.
My dad's parents were drawn to the same area after hearing one of Reverend McCullagh's sermons when he was on furlough in England. Apparently he raved about British Columbia, encouraging folk to emigrate. My dad followed his parents to British Columbia, wanting to check out what this great country had to offer. He met Melita, they fell in love and were married in 1910.
Dad built our house, perched high on a cliff overlooking the mighty Nass River.
He also built a store to provide food and necessities to the locals. The goods arrived by boat and were hauled up a very steep incline by means of some sort of skid.
How my poor mother survived in that wilderness is beyond me. They had no electricity, no indoor plumbing. They must have dug a well and heated water on the wood stove. I know they had an outhouse.
Mother raised four children. I was the youngest, fourteen years younger than my big sister, Kay.
I know they had a large vegetable garden. Produce was stored under the house during the winter. They ate a good deal of salmon, venison and moose. I imagine they had a chicken coop but must have also provided a secure, warm chicken house. School was held in a one room schoolhouse and my sister Kay (wearing glasses in the photo) was almost as old as the teacher.
Can you picture laundry day? Sheets, towels, diapers, all washed by hand with a scrub board and laundry tub. I was only four years old when we moved to Victoria, so I don't remember much about those days on the Nass. I wish I had talked more to mum about what life was like there.
I think of mum often, especially, of course, on Mother's Day. She was a good mother and a very sweet lady.
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