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Antoine Tiviell Shore & Jennie Eliza "Raine" Shore

 

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Written by:

John H. Larry - 10/1998

 

The first I remember of them was in trips down to Georgia Center. They lived on the corner of the route 7 and Georgia Plains road---across from the Church and General Store. Gramp was labeled as a "Day Laborer" in the archives. He worked at various jobs as they arrived. He was an excellent "finish" carpenter, farmer and at times the town barber. I remember an old model "T" Ford that Gramp owned that especially sticks in my mind because I went into the barn one day and painted the running board green. Needless to say that terminated my trips to the barn unaccompanied. I also remember Gramp driving the Ford into the barn and yelling in French " Whoa Catin (French for "doll") Whoa-dammit-whoa ! ! " However the "whoa-ing" resulted in a hole in the back of the barn.

Because Gramp was such a good "finish" carpenter, “Freem” Stinehour--a local real-estate man and building contractor, hired him on. Freem would buy up houses in need of repair and then refinish them and sell them. We moved from house to house during this period as the houses were repaired and sold. The final move was a four apartment house on Bishop St. which was our terminal move. This house had been made over from a barn. We lived on the ground floor on the opposite side of the house. When I was married, we lived in one of the upstairs apartments. Wayne was born there.

Their social life on Bishop street-as I said were infrequent visits to local relatives. During the summer the two of them would finish supper and go out on the wide porch and watch people come from work (Most people walked to and from work in those days). Gramp always had a remark as to the wealth and social standing of the passers by as he swatted at flies buzzing around. During the winter months the pastimes were confined to playing "500" which happened nearly every night and consisted of foursomes of Gram and Gramp, my other Grandmother and a neighbor from across the street--Raimee Valley. After Uncle Pat (Henry) moved up here, he would join in at times. I enjoyed watching them play--- not for the skill with which they played, but to listen to the expletives in French when things went wrong..

Gramp's working days came to an end when Freem got the bid to repair the Central Vermont roundhouse. Gramp fell of a staging and was badly hurt. He never went back to work after that. He confined his labor to making a big garden of almost two acres. When spring arrived, Gramp would throw an old plank on the edge of the garden, As Spring progressed, he would make a daily trip to the plank, slip his toe under it and raise it up an inch or so---and one day would announce "Gonna plant to-morrow". I never found out what he was looking for, but he never had a bad garden. At harvesting time we had bushels of potatoes and dozens of ears of corn and a galaxy of other vegetables.. My remembrance of the gardening was pulling a cultivator through the rows of potatoes and picking off potato bugs. We kids also had to help dig and sort the potatoes.

During the winter months Gramp's place was a rocking chair near the window in the kitchen, He would sit there by the hour smoking his corncob pipe and chewing tobacco. He had a "spittoon" on the floor next to him which he seldom hit. Gram had newspapers lined up the wall to corner the miss-hits. Gram never drank anything but a bit of homemade wine she always made from elderberries and dandelions. Gramp also endeavored to make a bit of "home brew" once in a while--but not too successfully. He enjoyed a bottle of beer occasionally when he visited my other Grandfather's store down town and could steal it from the cooler. Unfortunately one or two bottles dulled Gramp's senses to the staggering point and at times he had trouble making it home--much to Gram's disgust.

All in all they were a typical farm-bred family who were satisfied with the little things in life. Hard working, self sufficient and successful-even without Social Security. Neither parent was too family oriented and "tolerated" the younger generation. Parties and trips with the "young ones" were never considered. They felt that in bringing them up "properly" was their job--and they had completed it. They lived by the adage that kids were "seen and not heard". They lived out their lives with singleness and propriety and left it with grace and dignity.

These are a few of the things I remember about my grandparents on my mother's side. Although they have been gone for over 50 years, I remember them vividly.

As a couple they lived very frugally. It was inherent in their lifestyle. There were no parties as such and their contact with others was limited mostly to their family. Gramp always accused Grandma of wanting to visit other members of the family to catch up on happenings. When asked why they were going down to his sister's, Gramp explained it very succinctly "We're going down to Lena's to Pry ", was just unnecessary. She seldom smiled and when pleased to the point of laughter--her body just "jiggled', with hardly any facial expression.

Sickness was a stranger to both of them. Gram never had a headache in her lifetime. I remember Gramp had a touch of pneumonia--he got up and went downtown and purchased a nickel's worth of Canadian mints and cured himself. Gramma never had a doctor for any of her births---did it all her self. When Gramp had his stroke-they took him to the hospital. However he figured it was his time and he just let go.

                                                                                                                                                                                  

 

Written by:  George Kell

Married to Betty Larry granddaughter of Antoine and Jennie

11/1998

Another View

The first time I set eyes on Antoine Shore was the summer of 1939. I had just graduated from high school and had been dating Betty Larry off and on for the past three years and since I was going away to college in September we were dating at every opportunity. On this particular occasion I was walking up Bishop Street on my way to taking Betty to the movies and when I was about two houses away from 71 Bishop Street. I heard this laud voice, "Jesus Christ, you here again?" I looked around to see where the voice was coming from and finally decided it was coming from Betty's front porch. As I approached the steps to 71 Bishop Street, I took note of the man sitting on the front porch. He was not I thought a very large man, slender in build, a weather beaten face with startling blue eyes topped with a full head of unruly white hair. There was a suspicion that he was lacking a full set of teeth. As I started up the steps, he said, "Do you play baseball?" "Yes sir, I played three years for BFA (Bellows Free Academy) the local high school" What do you think of the Giants (the local semi-pro baseball team) " I think they are pretty good" " They lost today" "It happens," I replied " I hear they are down to Barker's every night drinkin' beer" I responded "I've met most of them and they seem like nice guys and besides Barker's isn't a bad place" "Umph, you can't drink beer all night and play ball the next day." That ended the conversation and I proceeded to Betty's door. I related to Betty what he had said and she smiled and said, " Don't let him upset you, his bark is worse than his bite. He is hard of hearing and thinks he has to talk loud. He never again hollered at me but one night while we were sitting on the porch someone was walking by and Antoine said in a loud voice "Jennie, who is that ?" Jennie didn't answer immediately for she knew the person passing by could hear them talking. "God damn it Jennie, I said who in hell is that passing by? "Jennie's response was "Shut up you damn fool, they will hear you!" I learned much more that summer about Antoine. As a young man, he loved square dancing and he and Jennie went often, they were cloggers and many nights Antoine would be the "caller". He was a carpenter by trade and made his money buying old homes, restoring them and re-selling for a profit. He had worked hard all his life and now in his old age he took great pride in his vegetable garden and would "work it" from sun up to sun down. That summer was the last time I saw Antoine as I was to return to St. Albans very briefly for the next few years. However, Betty informed me of his stroke while playing cards and was taken to the hospital for the first time in his life, he was petrified and his final days in the hospital he pleaded to all visitors, "Please get then to send me home" It was the belief of the family that he "died of fright"--Jennie could not care for him at home because of advanced age of them both. He just did not want to go on living. He had another stroke within 24 hours and died January 15,1941 at the age of 83. (Born August 20,1858)