I haven't lived in Plymouth, NS for almost 24 years. In fact, I've been in Vancouver, BC for the last 10 of those. I've always prided myself on being very versatile, like the idiom: "Home is where you lay your hat". Things can change quickly, often unplanned, sometimes for the good, other times not so much, but wherever I am is home at the moment.
Don't
get me wrong, I love love love my new city, but I do get a bit of
melancholy thinking about where my hat used to lay and all the rich Gray
history surrounding it. Next time I visit I'll have to set aside a
full day to go cemetery hopping. I love cemeteries. I don't even have
to know any of the residents, I just love to walk among the stones, read
the inscriptions, notice the flowers left by loved ones. Some people
find cemeteries creepy and full of death .... I find them peaceful and
full of history. I need to start maintaining a list of who is buried in
which cemetery and get some good photos. There are a number of NS
cemeteries that are not documented at all, Plymouth being one of them.
Today was a day of bmd's ... reading birth/marriage/death records. Most days have a bit of everything, but today I decided to stick to those and see if I found any not-so-obvious trails. I was perusing a particular list of births in 1867, 100 years before I was born (ok, 99 years if you want to be nit-picky about it). Scrolling through the lists of names I found Gray, Sims, Johnson, Hatfield, Stuart, Allen, Robbins, Ryder, Trefry, and many more ..... even after all this time, just reading this list sent me home. I grew up around most of these names, or hearing of them from years past. Trefry's had the Arcadia Meat Market for years. My dad's best friend and neighbor as a child was a Johnson. I was engaged to a Hatfield at one time. My aunt married a Sims.
The two florists in
Yarmouth were Crosby's and Robbin's. I could go on and on, but my point is how very cool it is to run down a list of names and be able to say "I know that name ... and that one ... and that one ..." often with an anecdote or bit of information attached to each one. This is Main St in Yarmouth. The town clock there on the left was built
by my cousin, Randy Forbes. The building on the corner with the large
turret at the top was Fitzer's Fine Clothes, now a tourist shop I
believe. One of the Florist shops was near that. That's how I remember it anyhow. Now, of course, it looks quite different. There's that melancholy again.