Winter Research

Crunchy snow at 6 AM, black dog with snow bound nose as she looks for a place to do her business, me huddled in boots, jogging pants and my warm dark blue jacket. After five months we have this down to rocket science, because we both know what comes next; for Molly it’s breakfast and a warm bed beside the woodstove, for me it’s a hot cup of coffee, some soft music or CBC and a few hours to contemplate life with my husband, but this morning he is away on his last business trip before retiring. So, while I have a few hours on my own, I thought it would be a good idea to contemplate some of the research I’ve been doing on my mother’s family. I know, I’m really researching working on the Hudson Bay Company, but for the past few months I’ve done a side step, to begin weaving two families together. 

Unfortunately, once again I’ve found of the two lineages that came to the Pacific Northwest there are very few or none of us left. George Edward Prosser, my mother’s father, was born in Manitoba while his father was serving with the Northwest Mounted Police. It seems his father, Samuel Nevers Prosser from New Brunswick and his mother, Mary Jane Martin from Aroostook Maine travelled back and forth. If we think young people today can’t settle down, all I can say is these people didn’t stay in one place too awfully long! They seem to trapeze back and forth to Maine a few times. Mary’s brother Charles B. Martin and her sister Laura (Routh) came to King County in Washington State. George’s father Samuel’s last days were spent in Custer Montana and his brother Ezra (easy name to research) was in the Portland Oregon area.

On the 1921 Canada census I found my grandfather George Prosser working as a butcher in Clinton. Great time to discover this, now I have to wait until summer to visit the local museum in Clinton. My grandmother, Dora (Manson) Prosser was in Vancouver with my mother Maxine. Travel was possible by train from Clinton from 1916 to Squamish and then by steamship to Vancouver. It wasn’t until 1918 that the government of John Oliver stepped in to push the railway through to William’s Lake and open up the Cariboo. So travel to Vancouver became relatively easy for my family. My mother, Maxine use to regale me with stories of going off to Vancouver. I can remember when a round trip cost $12 and you could see some of the most specular scenery the province has to offer. In later years, I would sleep most of the five hours or delve into a good book, but the tourists were treated to great discussions with the conductors that always brought a smile to my face.

Winter is not something to be endured; rather it is a time for contemplation, warm fires and lots of steaming cups of coffee. Come spring, it will be time to move soil, bring out all the gardening tools not to mention sorting through camping equipment and time for family research and writing will have to wait once again. It is only early December and spring is at least four months away.