| Notes |
- OBITUARY
ANDREW WILKIE
Suddenly on Friday June 18, 1976 ; Andrew Wilkie of Castor AB beloved
husband of Hazel Weeks, dear father of David Allan of Kingston; Richard Andrew of Castor AB; and Mrs. Dennis (Heather Williams) of Calgary. Also survived by 7 grandchildren. Resting at the Funeral Residence of Gordon F. Tompkins, 49 Colborne St from Sat. evening. Service in the Chapel Sunday evening at 8 pm. The Ancient St Johns Lodge No. 3 will hold a service at 7 pm. Mr. Wilkie was a member of Beaver Lodge No. 56 of Castor. Service conducted from Knox United Church June 24, 1976.
Source: The Castor Advance
Death Registration:
Andrew Wilkie, Male, Married
Date of Death: June 18, 1976
Location: Tillsonburg, Ont
Age; 74 years
Reg # 1976-05-029861
Andrew (Andy) was an active member of the Masonic Lodge, holding many offices in that order.
Dad worked in the coal mines in earlier years, but after being married worked for the CPR as a drayman. His job was to meet the daily train, remove the freight that was brought to Castor and deliver the goods to the various businesses. Then Mother would go on Wednesdays and collect the freight charges owing and turn this money into the CPR Station Master. This was quite time consuming, requiring much diplomacy as often receipts were there and not all the parcels had arrived; discrepancies in prices, totals. Often the CPR Station Master had a different Total figure than did the copies that were given to Mother, and it was an accounting nightmare. Common Sense did tend to prevail and Mom was always the one to remain calm in those situations. (which is why I think Dad turned the task over to her to do)
Dad also worked full time for Esso bulk agencies, under Mr. Jim Lone. When Jim died suddenly, Jim's wife Sybil took over and Dad continued to work for her. Dad set up the tank cars from the railway to empty into the large bulk tanks that were located close to the CPR tracks, at the East end of the townsite. There was also a building which contained many large barrels of fuel, which was delivered to the farmers for their use. Dad always had control in the warehouse or bulk station, and Mrs Lone worked in a small building at the end of mainstreet, where she kept the books, ordering etc. It was not unusual for Dad and Mrs. Lone to have many different opinions. Dad always drove a 'company truck' a large tanker like truck to the various farmers places.
Cause of Death: Coronary Heart Attack. Mom and Dad were holidaying in Tillsonburg, Ont. Had gone East for grand-daughters wedding. They were visiting Ola Beaman's place (a cousin of Mom's). Mom was aware that sometime during the night Dad had gotten up to go to the bathroom, but upon wakening in the morning, she didn't hear Dad breathing, and reached over; he was gone. Allan was called and Dad taken back to Kingston. Then Mollie and Mom returned to Edmonton, then Castor via train as a pilot strike was on with Air Canada, thus Dad was in the freight compartment of the train, while Mom and Mollie, exhausted came via passenger cars. Most unpleasant trip. Allan and his family drove out to Castor.
Andrew Wilkie Story as told by Andy himself to Kay Morasch
My father and mother,Mr. And Mrs. David Wilkie, my sister Nettie, and I left Scotland in 1911, arriving in Glace Bay, Nova Scotia where Father worked in the mines until May 1914 when we returned to Scotland to try to improve my sister's health. War started in August 1914 and we couldn't get back to Canada because Father was needed in the mines and had to stay. When he wasn't in the mines, he was coaling the warship at the Naval Base, one of the things that they had to do.
In 1920 we came to Garden Plains, where Father's sister Mrs Jim Easton was living and where Uncle Jim was working in the mines there. We then moved to Castor where Father and I worked in the Remillard mine until Father had an accident in 1921 and we both gave up that line of work.
I did odd jobs for awhile, then went to work for Imperial Oil, and stayed with that for thirty years. Father and Mother lived to have their 60th Wedding Anniversary. Nettie died in 1925. Mrs. Easton now lives in the Paintearth Lodge. Uncle Jim has passed on.
After Father's accident, when we quit the mine, I worked for Mr. Pickles on the farm for two summers. In 1926, Hazel and I were married. She was working in Ramsden's store and I had spent one summer delivering groceries that was how we met. We have had a good life. The Hungry Thirties were not very pleasant but we managed to get over that.
We have two good boys and a good girl. Allan, the oldest, joined the Air Force in 1950. He'll be due to retire in about two and a half years. Heather went through for R.N. and Richard, our youngest, is an electrician - got his papers a month ago. We are all very happy about that. ( Fact, Heather is the youngest)
What wages did we earn in the mine? That is a hard question to answer because you were getting paid a certain amount a ton for mining it. But I worked on the farm for $30. A month at Bulwark, and worked that summer in town delivering groceries for $30. a month, just to have a job. It was a big lift when I started getting $90. A month, but that dropped considerably in the Dirthy Thirties.
What mines were operating in your time? Well, there was Shaw's, Remillard's, Phillips', McCormick's and there was one West of the County Shop on that land of Nichols. They said that there was very good coal there, but I never worked there myself. And there was Jack Armstrong's and that one was across the Highlevel Bridge, over there by Fletcher's buildings that was operated by Alfred Mc Neil, who used to have the Boarding House in Castor. He was an elevator agent at Veldt too for awhile.
I have a picture here. This is my Uncle Bill Scott, this is Omar Remillard, here's Edson Miller, Tim Miller's uncle. And of course the wee chap with the curly hair is me. This is Ray Trost, and this is my Dad, this is Mr. Jasper and this is my cousin Bob. And this one I am not sure of, but I believe it is Gus Wetter. Gus worked there.
How could you see without electricity? We had carbide lamps. If you want to go into Ray Meyer's barber shope, he has one he will show you. You screw off the bottom and fill it half full of carbide, the rest water. Then turn the little lever at the top and the water starts to drop. And out comes air, just like gas. There is a flint on it - just like a cigarette lighter, and there's a flame that comes out of there.
What were some of the dangers of working in a mine? Very few. I never saw a real accident until Dad had his. Cut and bruised fingers were common, just as in any other work. But in the explosion, Dad lost his eye, and the coal dust was embedded in his skin, that is, on his face and it was impossible to get it out. His skin pebbled over and never returned to normal, and his face looked dark. It was something that no one had ever before seen around here.
How did the mines here compare with those in Scotland? No comparison. The mines here were, at the most, thirty or forty feet deep. Both mines used props. The props here were wooden, and approximately five foot. The mines that I worked in, in Scotland, were 250 fathoms straight down, and that is a six-foot fathom. When you reached the bottom, you went into work, then you would start to climb to the coal face that had all been worked out until you came to where they were digging out the coal.
There was a long seam of coal where you worked, a man and a boy like myself would work every ten feet along. The coal was cut with a machine, during the night or in the afternoon. There would be a man down there who would bore a hole, pile it with dynamite, and blow that down. When the man and the boy would come in at six o'clock in the morning, they would clean all this coal out. It would go down the incline and go out to the bottom, as we called it. It would go out the shaft to the top. This incline was steep enough that the full coal cars going down would bring up the empties. And from there a pony would pull them up to the shaft. The ponies would get up to the top once a year and would be practically blind from having been down there for so long. When I started to work, it was in 1915-16 and there was no light except for the carbide lamps.
When you worked on the mining crew, you were down in the hole for eight hours, and you didn't get out until your hours were up. You took your lunch with you in a tin can, for if you didn't you wouldn't have any, because the rats would have it all eaten.
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My Scottish "Wilkie" Family
1900 - 1976 (75 years)
Occupation