Brantford; On April 13, 2026, David Nelms and Mary Simpson travelled to Brantford, Ontario, to visit the Woodland Cultural Centre, located on the grounds of the former Mohawk Institute Residential School.
In their care was a small metal penny bank—simple in form, worn with age, and carrying with it the memory of a life.
The bank belonged to Jemima “Ina” Simpson Nelms, who passed away in the summer of 2025 at just over 100 years old. As a child growing up in rural Southwestern Ontario, Ina attended St. John’s Anglican Church in Glencoe. She received the penny tin through her Sunday School program known as “The Little Helpers.” She would save her pennies and drop them into the slot, believing—as she had been taught—that the money would help “the little Indian children.”
Printed on the surface are images of children from around the world, as they were depicted at the time, along with a short prayer: “God bless all the missionaries all over the world, and all the little helpers, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.” Strangely, the handsome North American Indigenous boy is standing aloof from the group. Jesus has his back to him and the child is not part of the group – he’s just watching.
The Little Helpers of the Sunday School. Penny bank sponsored by the Woman’s Auxiliary of the Anglican Church of Canada. The Indian child stands apart from the group of children talking to Jesus. Read more →
by Mary Simpson, Old River Farm, Mosa Township, Treaty 21.
Attending Mark French’s presentation at the Glencoe and District Historical Society (18 March 2026) felt like waking up to a responsibility I had never fully acknowledged. Mark, an Elder from Deshkan Ziibiing (Chippewas of the Thames First Nation) and husband of our G&DHS treasurer Diana Jedig, spoke about treaties not as dry legal relics but as living relationships.
As a farmer and settler whose family names – Simpson, Moorehouse, Pearce, McEachran, Stalker – are written into this land, his words left me moved. We begin meetings with a land acknowledgement, yet what follows? Learning about the treaties themselves, understanding how they were made in good faith, and recognizing the complex histories and losses Indigenous peoples have endured are our next steps. This piece is my attempt to articulate what I learned.
Mark French and his two grandchildren explain the significance of this wampum belt. March 19, 2026.
Treaties as Living Relationships
In Mark’s talk I learned that treaties are far more than legal documents. Indigenous peoples from this region have long understood treaties as formal agreements that create a framework for a relationship and an ongoing process for maintaining it. In Anishinaabe world views, all life is interconnected – plants, animals and other beings have spirit and agency, and humans carry reciprocal duties of care. A treaty establishes ongoing responsibilities to one another, to other beings and to the land.
Mark showed how Wampum belts (the ones shown here were crafted by his brother) are a powerful visual record of these agreements. Wampum belts are made of purple and white shell beads woven into symbolic designs that hold the words and pledges spoken in their presence. Each belt is a living presence that connects present treaty partners with generations past. When a belt is brought out, its story and obligations are renewed. These designs were not just art – they are instructions for relationship.
The originals back in the day were painstakingly crafted from small beads laboriously carved out of quahog shells. No wonder wampum, a currency, was so highly prized. No wonder the beads manufactured in Europe were welcomed along with other technological breakthroughs – iron pots, kettles, knives, and axes.
Wampum beads were crafted from purple and white quahog clam shells (Mercenaria mercenaria). They signify a sacred, living record of history, diplomacy, and spiritual beliefs for Northeast Indigenous nations. Far beyond currency, these shells symbolize peace, authority, and the interconnectedness of life, used to bind treaties, honor leaders, and preserve ancestral wisdom.
Local Treaties in Southwestern Ontario
Middlesex County rests on multiple treaties. Locally, we acknowledge that we are on the traditional lands of the Anishinaabek, Haudenosaunee, Lūnaapéewak and Attawandaron and that the area is covered by several treaties: the Two Row Wampum/Silver Covenant Chain, the Beaver Hunting Grounds (Nanfan) Treaty of 1701, the McKee Treaty of 1790, the London Township Treaty of 1796, the Huron Tract Treaty of 1827, and the Dish with One Spoon Covenant.
Responsibilities of Settlers
Settlers are treaty people. I had always thought treaty rights were something only Indigenous peoples had, but treaties are agreements that bestow rights and obligations upon both parties. Historic treaties established an ongoing relationship between settlers and First Nations where each group asserted rights and responsibilities in relation to the other. These agreements were meant to last “as long as the sun shines, the grass grows, and the river flows”, a phrase that emphasises permanence.
Being a settler treaty person means recognising both the rights granted to us and the responsibilities that accompany them.
Settler rights under treaties included freedom of religion, the right to share the land, the right to pursue agriculture and economic activities, the right to political self‑determination and the right to peace and goodwill.
These rights came with obligations: to respect Indigenous spiritual traditions, to recognise Indigenous control over reserves and resources, to honour Indigenous sovereignty and to maintain peace and goodwill.
Non‑Indigenous Canadians have a responsibility to know the treaties they are part of and the rights and responsibilities they have through them. The Indigenous Foundation notes that to honour treaty responsibilities, we must hold the Canadian government accountable when it violates treaty obligations. This means educating ourselves, insisting that governments respect treaties, and supporting Indigenous communities when they assert their rights.
Mark also spoke about how Indigenous peoples have endured broken promises, land theft, residential schools and other systemic violations despite upholding their treaty responsibilities. Settlers often colluded in these injustices by refusing to understand their own history. Recognising our own ancestors’ complicity does not condemn them but calls us to do better.
Mark explains the design and significance of the wampum – a sacred, living record of history, and diplomacy.
Being a Treaty Person: Learning and Action
KAIROS Canada summarises what it means to be a treaty person: everyone living in North America – Turtle Island – is a treaty person, and treaties are living relationships meant to guide how we live together based on mutual respect, peace and sharing. Being a treaty person brings responsibilities:
Learn the truth about the land we live on. Start by discovering whose traditional and treaty territory we reside on. Tools like Native-Land.ca can help.
Uphold the spirit and intent of the treaties. Treaties were agreements to share the land, not to surrender it. We must honour sharing and reciprocity.
Listen to and follow the leadership of First Nations. Indigenous peoples continue to uphold their side of treaty responsibilities despite systemic injustices. Our role is to support and not override their leadership.
Reject erasure, stereotypes and colonial myths. This includes challenging narratives that depict treaties as mere land sales or Indigenous peoples as obstacles to progress.
Take action towards justice and reconciliation. This might include supporting Indigenous land claims, participating in treaty education and engaging in land stewardship initiatives.
As farmers, we can also take concrete steps. In Saskatchewan, there is an interesting program called the Treaty Land Sharing Network which encourages non‑Indigenous landholders to voluntarily open their privately owned land to Indigenous peoples for cultural practices, ceremony, harvesting and gathering. This grassroots initiative recognises that treaties were meant to share land, not to exclude. By building relationships through land-sharing, the network renews treaty responsibilities and helps Indigenous land users reconnect with their traditional territories.
Reflection from a Settler Farmer
I know that the land is not something owned outright but loaned to us by previous generations and entrusted to us for future ones. I love the matriarchal reverence for ancestors, respect for elders and for the earth that nurtures us.
Coming from a long line of settlers, the McEachrans, the Pearces, Stalkers… I take pride in the hard work of my ancestors – particularly my many great grandmothers and their daughters. The grinding labour to clear fields, plant, harvest, grind grain, feed and cloth their families. But the truth is: my clans’ prosperity would not have been possible without treaties that opened land to settlement and the dispossession of Indigenous peoples. -Mary
Mark spoke about how Indigenous communities view ancestors not as distant memories but as active participants in community life, guiding decisions and reminding us of responsibilities.
I also learned that acknowledging the land is only the beginning. Many land acknowledgements emphasise gratitude and respect for the natural world, but they conclude by stressing that awareness means nothing without action and encouraging everyone to take steps toward decolonising practices. Mark challenged us to move beyond reciting acknowledgements and to engage with treaty education. Treaties involve complex histories; some include fair negotiations, while others involved coercion or misunderstanding. Many treaties were not honoured, leading to the erosion of culture, language and land.
The injustices that plagued Indigenous communities – broken treaties, residential schools, dispossession – are mirrored in today’s world where economic deals often harm those without power. As settlers’ descendants, we must see the patterns: the same disregard for human dignity continues when corporations put profit over people. When we understand that the exploitation of Indigenous peoples is part of a larger pattern of injustice, we can better align ourselves with those fighting for justice today.
Moving Forward: Commitments from the Heart
Writing this piece has prompted me to articulate personal commitments that flow from my treaty responsibilities:
Educate myself and others. I will learn about the treaties that cover the land where I live and farm. I will seek out Indigenous perspectives on these treaties, recognising that official documents often omit Indigenous voices.
Support Indigenous leadership and initiatives. When Indigenous communities call for action – whether it is opposing harmful development projects, asserting land rights or protecting water – I will listen, amplify and support them. This includes holding governments accountable for treaty obligations.
Participate in land sharing. Maybe we can create a Treaty Land Sharing Network in Ontario and open parts of our farm for Indigenous cultural practices and harvesting. Sharing the land honours the spirit of treaties and builds relationships based on reciprocity, and sounds like fun.
Challenge colonial narratives. When conversations around me diminish Indigenous rights or depict treaties as outdated, I will challenge those views. I will share what I have learned about treaties as living agreements and about our shared responsibilities.
Teach future generations. As a parent and community member, I will ensure that next gen farmers understand that they are treaty people, too. They need to know whose land they farm and the obligations that come with that privilege.
Writing from the heart means acknowledging both the pain and the hope. The pain lies in the injustices inflicted on Indigenous peoples and the realisation that my own prosperity is tied to that history. The hope lies in the possibility of renewed relationships based on honesty, respect and shared stewardship. Treaties are not relics; they are living promises.
It’s been called the Indigenous Magna Carta and the Indigenous Bill of Rights. But what exactly does that mean? In this episode Falen and Leah dive into the history of the Royal Proclamation, a document that is often spoken about when discussing the history of Canada and Indigenous land rights. But what do we really know about it? link to podcast
Incudes detail from Rick Hill about wampum belts and the canoe analogy.
By Mary Simpson and Caroline Gough, November 8, 2025.
The Glencoe & District Historical Society is absolutely buzzing this week (Nov 8, 2025) . A remarkable gift has just arrived at The Archives: the enormous scrapbook collection lovingly created over a lifetime by Mrs. John Alberta (Bertie) MUNSON McFarlane. Her daughter Caroline and granddaughter Betty Ann have generously entrusted this treasure trove to our care.
Bertie was one of those extraordinary rural women who quietly carried the heartbeat of a community. She clipped everything. Births, marriages, deaths, retirements, accidents, reunions, graduations, memorable storms, championship teams, church news, farm sales… you name it, she saved it.
A portion of her scrapbook fonds: Mrs. John “Alberta” McFarlane of R.R. #4, Appin, ON
This collection is enormous. What you see in the photo is perhaps one-fifth of the total “fonds” . The rest fills an entire wall of boxes. In archival science, a fonds is a group of documents that share the same origin and have occurred naturally as an outgrowth of the daily workings of an individual, or organization
Caroline Gough, Bertie’s daughter, told us that as a girl she never quite understood her mother’s hobby. Caroline loved horses and dance, while her mother spent evenings with scissors, glue, newspapers, and her other talent, fine needlework. But now she sees the magnitude of what her mother created: a family and community archive of extraordinary depth and love.
In the spring of 1890, William Regcraft found some bones while digging a ditch on his uncle’s farm, one mile from Highgate, Ontario. A hardware merchant named William Hillhouse bought the bones, and he and his uncle, John Jelly, also bought the right to continue excavating. What they found was almost an entire skeleton of an Ice-Age mastodon, relative of the modern elephant.
Known locally as the “Mush Hole,” the Mohawk Institute in Brantford, Ont. was Canada’s oldest and longest-running residential school. But on September 30, 2025, it officially became an interpretive historic site. On that solemn day, what was once a place of suffering, erasure and intergenerational trauma was reborn as a museum, teaching site—and a space for truth-telling, remembrance and hope.
The transformation was decades in the making, built on persistent activism, deep community engagement, archival research, restoration efforts and, above all, the resolve of survivors and Indigenous leadership that this history not be buried.
Behind the Bricks: A New Chapter
At the London Museum on September 25, Mary Simpson attended the launch of Behind the Bricks: The Life and Times of the Mohawk Institute. Edited by Richard W. “Rick” Hill Sr., Alison Norman, Thomas Peace and Jennifer Pettit, Behind the Bricks draws together Indigenous and settler historians, community voices, archival researchers, archaeologists and survivors to reconstruct the layered history behind the walls of the institute. Another launch event was held by the Ontario Historical Society a couple nights later.
The book begins by tracing the school’s founding and historical context, before delving into the its architecture and physical spaces, the curriculum and daily regimes imposed on children, religious and governmental oversight, student resistance, and the long process of commemoration and preservation. To close, Behind the Bricks allows survivor voices to speak directly, offering their unique perspectives of lived experience.
The editors have emphasized that the Mohawk Institute was not an isolated institution—it was in many ways a model or prototype for national residential school policy. The takeaway: What can this case teach us about the wider system of Indigenous schooling and control in Canada? How did notions of “civilization,” assimilation and authority operate in this place? How do we reckon with the spaces—the bricks, corridors and dormitories—that bore witness to so much pain? Behind the Bricks does not offer easy answers, but rather invites readers into the difficult task of listening, digging and reflecting.
Allen Deleary of Bkejwanong (Walpole Island First Nation) speaking recently at a special Indigenous Lifeways Workshop locally. Allen shared teachings and insights from Anishinaabe traditions, exploring how Indigenous lifeways continue to guide relationships with the land, water, and one another. The evening included a community discussion, offering space for reflection, dialogue, and shared understanding:
Allen Deleary of Bkejwanong
And then there are the Elders:
Simon Winchester:
They keep a steady hand upon the tiller. That, in essence, seems to be the greatest and most enduring strength of aboriginal peoples around the world. The frantic pace of modern life, the endless bursts of technological advance, the alarums and excursions, and our various political and military adventures all come and go, but all the while and in the background, keeping their wary and watchful eyes upon us, are the wise ones…
When Ron McRae first began researching how to build a cedar strip canoe, it was during the COVID outbreak and at the urging of his son, Steven. Ron had recently retired and he and his wife, Linda had purchased two plastic kayaks. They enjoyed getting out on the water, but Ron found the seating position painful on his lower back. So he began researching canoes.
“I found Bear Mountain Boats in Peterborough,“ Ron recalls. “They sell cedar-strip canoe kits and have all these resources for amateur builders. I contacted them, hoping to register for a workshop with Ted Moores, the founder of the company and the man who wrote Canoecraft, the definitive how-to book for canoe builders. But his wife told me Ted was now in his seventies and had given up his in-person courses. She then said something that stuck with me: ‘Why don’t you buy the book, read it, and call me back if you still think you can do it?’”
So he did.
And he could.
And he did.
Ron ordered his first kit, which came with all the essential parts: carefully milled cedar strips in a range of colours from dark brown to nearly white, ash gunnels, deck pieces and seats and hardware. The key to a sound, straight tracking hull is the molds which shape it. Ron decided to purchase laser cut molds which were perfect, rather than risk cutting them by hand with a jigsaw. He chose a design that balanced form and function= something stable, not too long and suitable for beginners.
“I picked the Freedom 15 design,” he says. “It’s easy to paddle, good for two people or as a solo. I thought it would be a relatively easy build and perfect for novice paddlers like Linda and me.”
“I built that first canoe in about six months and really enjoyed the process. Linda and I have been exploring Southern Ontario paddling opportunities in it for the past three years and we seldom go out on the water without a comment on the beauty of our cedar strip canoe.”
As the agent of his excellency the Right Honourable Lord Howden, Her Majesty’s Ambassador at Madrid, I hereby certify that Mr. James Alexander has been employed as a farm manager on his Lordship’s Grimston Estate for six years.
By his own desire, he will leave this country to try his fortune in America. I have great pleasure in testifying that his conduct has always been most trustworthy, steady and exemplary in the extensive farm works carried on here.
Also, from his good education and experience in farming, I consider him well qualified to conduct and manage any agricultural operation in all its branches.
—M. Harington, Grimston Park, Tadcaster, Yorkshire.
Penned in 1853, this letter of reference launched the Alexander family legacy in Canada—and a long line of dedicated Ontario farmers. More than 170 years later, the Alexanders’ original crown settlement south of Melbourne, Ont. is still a working cattle farm, now into its sixth generation of the family.
These deep agricultural roots sprouted in rural Forfarshire, Scotland, before blossoming on a Yorkshire estate owned by a British lord and later blooming across the ocean in Southwest Middlesex. The Alexander story is a true migrant tale, showcasing the upheaval, ambition, dedication and success of newcomers to Canada.
Dec 6, 2025. The Archives, Glencoe – Donation and provenance provided by Kathleen Scott, great grand daughter, St. Thomas, Ontario. Received by Mary Simpson and Norm McGill.
This collection of items belonged to the McAlpine and Smith families of 3528 Oil Field Road, near Glencoe, Ontario. At the center of the family story is the marriage of Rebecca Smith and Alexander McAlpine, who were married on April 12, 1899. Their illustrated marriage certificate, preserved inside Alexander’s family Bible, is one of the key artifacts in this collection.
Rebecca and Alexander lived on the family farm on Oil Field Road. After Alexander’s death, the property was eventually purchased by Jim Schieman, and the McAlpine family maintained a warm friendship with the Schieman family for many years afterward. Several items in the collection reflect this long community connection.
Also included are photographs and records connected with the Zavitz, Schieman, and Peters families, who were neighbours and later stewards of the original McAlpine farm. A wedding photo of Peter Schieman’s son is part of this grouping.
Rebecca and Alexander lived on the family farm on Oil Field Road. After Alexander’s death, the property was eventually purchased by Jim Schieman, and the McAlpine family maintained a warm friendship with the Schieman family for many years afterward. Several items in the collection reflect this long community connection.
These artifacts—Bibles, hymnals, books, and photographs—together illuminate more than a century of rural family life in Southwest Middlesex, documenting marriages, migration, faith, work, and community connections passed down through generations. Thank you Heather for entrusting these treasures to the Glencoe & District Historical Society.
Tracing a Journey of Faith: Author Maria Moore shares the migration history of Old Colony Mennonites and her own family’s story during a presentation hosted by the Glencoe Historical Society.
The Old Colony Mennonite story stretches across continents and centuries—a journey shaped by faith, identity, and the ongoing search for a place where religious convictions can be lived without interference. This history, and its enduring impact, was the focus of a recent presentation by author Maria Moore at the Glencoe Presbyterian Church, hosted by the Glencoe & District Historical Society.
A Remarkable Revival of Scots Gaelic Heritage at Tait’s Corners
Written by Trevor Aitkens | Directed by Antje Giles Performed November 15–16, 2025
The Glencoe & District Historical Society was honoured to sponsor and support June Journey / Turas an Ògmhìos, a beautifully crafted Gaelic play written by Trevor Aitkens and hosted at the historic Tait’s Corners Schoolhouse. Over three sold-out performances on November 15–16, 2025, audiences filled the lovingly restored 1910 one-room school to experience a deeply moving, often humorous, always heartfelt return to the early school days of our region.
A Cast of 18 Bringing 1910 Back to Life
The production featured a remarkable cast of 18 local actors, intergenerational in age and representing families from across Southwest Middlesex and Strathroy-Caradoc. Their portrayals of teachers, students, elders, and neighbours transported audiences directly into a 1910 classroom at the very moment when Scots Gaelic—the language of their parents and grandparents—was slipping out of daily use.
The cast brought warmth, laughter, tenderness, and occasional heartbreak to the stage. Audience members noted that the play felt “like watching our great-grandparents speak again.”
The cast takes a bow. the students earned a certificate for their commitment to learning Gaelic and their lines.
The Glencoe area was settled predominately by Scottish immigrants many of whom spoke Gaelic.
Duncan Mitchell (1838-unknown) from Metcalfe Township lived on the South 1/2 of Lot 18, Conc 13. He had this book of 41 Gaelic poems published localy in Rodney, Ontario in 1887. This book was generously donated to the Historical Society from the McAlpine family in 1986, and several poems were translated by Donald Campbell in 1999.
D. Campbell included notes with the translation explaining that most Gaelic speakers did not learn to read and write from formal education, and that to a modern reader his spelling is very poor. He surmises that Duncan was likely quite a fluent speaker who wrote in Gaelic using what he had learned from personal study and practice. Campbell also states that he clearly used a regional dialect of Gaelic and that he was writing according to his accent, which was common.
Druchd Na Beinne (Original Gaelic Text) Druchd na beinne, druchd na beinne, Druchd na beinne, o anail Chriosd, Druchd na beinnes’s Dia bhi lienne ‘N am na gainne’s gus a chtioch.
Druchd na beinne, gu ar comhdach, Air an lon anar bhios sin sgith; druchd na beinne bheiradh beos dhuinn Air an rod san tsaoghal shios.
Druchd na beinne ann’s an fhasach, Gu ar sasachadh gu sior: Leis an dochas chaoidh nach basaich; Ach gu brath a mhareas fior.
Druchd na beinne ‘n am an earraich, Gu ar tarruinn dhionnsuidh Chriosd Druchd na beinne tha toirt barrachd: Bheir nach fannaich sin gu sior.
Druchd na beinne tha cho beodhach, Air na rosaibh sruthadh sios; ‘S leam bu tatneach e bhi dortadh; Air gach neonnan buidhe blion.
Druchd na beinne ‘n am an t’samhraidh, ‘S e a b’ansuidh lainn gu fior; Gu ar cumail dlu r’ar n’annsachd: ‘S tiormachd samhraidh orn’ a crion.
Druchd na beinne ‘n am an fhaoghair, Gu ar cumail dlu ri Criosd; Gu ar neartacha ‘S g’ar cobhair: Ann’s gach obair gus a chrioch.
Druchd na beinne’n am a gheamhraidh, ‘N nar bhios teanndtachd air tir; Druchd na beinne chum na cranndachd: Chuir a dh’ anntaobh chaoidh gu sior.
Druchd na beinne ann’s an t’siorruitrheachd, ‘S mi nach iarradh uaith gu fior; Ach bhi’m shuidhe’n sgail na diadhachd: ‘N glachdadh Chriosd gu suthinn sior.
The Dew of the Mountain (English Translation) The dew of the mount, the dew of the mount, The dew of the mount from the breath of Christ, The dew of the mount God being with us In the time of famine, to the end.
The dew of the mount, to cover us, on the morass when we are tired; dew of the mount that would enliven us on the road in the earth below.
Dew of the mount in the wilderness, To give us satisfaction never ending: with the hope that will never die; But forever will last true.
Dew of the mount in the spring time, Drawing us toward Christ Dew of the mountain that surpasses: Enabling that we shall not faint ever.
Dew of the mount that is so enlivening, On the roses dripping down; With me would be desirable to be pouring; On each small wilted yellow flower.
Dew of the mount during summer time, It would be preferable to us; to keep us close to our attachment: while drought of summer withers us.
Dew of the mount in time of autumn, To keep us close to Christ; Strengthening us, relieving us: in every toil to the end.
Dew of the mount in time of winter, When the land is paralyzed; Dew of the mount to put anger: To one side always and forever.
Dew of the mount in eternity truly, I would not desire to be without; But that I’d be sitting in the shadow of God: in the everlasting embrace of Christ.
There is never a doubt that a soldier marching obediently into a volley of musket fire is a hero. An army surgeon, his white apron stained with blood, working countless hours in the heat to save whomever he can, is also a hero. What of Generals, Lieutenants, and Captains who give orders, strategize, and feel the weight of entire armies on their shoulders as they command men to give everything to a cause? Surely, they are heroes as well. Historically, it seems easy to list the heroes of war, but it is rare that ordinary women and children are included on these lists. Today, I invite you to consider those left behind. They are not left behind by choice or lack of courage. Not because they didn’t feel the pull of the cause as deeply and passionately as their male counterparts. They were left behind, in the shadows, to do what women have always done: endure the hardships and try and prosper, all while maintaining their family’s wellbeing.
“Soldiers on a March.” The Army Children Archive (TACA), 14 Jan. 1884, www.archhistory.co.uk/taca/move.html. Accessed 14 Aug. 2025.
I am at a bit of a disadvantage writing about a man I never met. Those who remember him will each have their personal remembrances, that I know nothing about, but wish I did.
I have a hard time using the term “Grandfather” to describe this man. The name “Bill” comes easier and I will use it as I relate information about him. To a lot of people, Bill Edwards was “Stubbles from the Farm” in the person of “Claud Hopper” the central character in this farm based series.
Windows on the past Part 3 St James Anglican Church, Wardsville by Bill Simpson
St James Wardsville was torn down in 1942 after the foundations were fatally undermined by improvements to the adjoining Hagerty Road. Sadly, there are no known pictures of the interior of the church, and we have only an image of the exterior to let us know how it looked.
The design looks very similar to that of St John’s Glencoe, with the exception that the belltower is offset to the side of the entrance rather than where the entrance porch is shown. This explains how the reredos (wooden screen in the chancel) fit so snugly into the chancel at St John’s when it was moved there. (I am writing another post about this memorial reredos and altar table.)
It was noted in an Anglican News article that St James had many beautiful ornamental and memorial windows, but we have no pictures of them.
But, remarkably, a small part of one of these windows was discovered by Wilson Bowles while renovating his house on Talbot Street and was given over in to the care of Ken Willis, the Wardsville Historian. Ken speculates that this fragment was rescued by Abraham Linden, who occupied the house previously.
Published in the April 2025 issue of the Middlesex Banner.
Orval Shaw, a name that once echoed through over 40 cities, towns and countryside of Ontario, was more than just a petty criminal. He was a symbol of defiance, a master of evasion, and a figure who captured the public’s imagination. I have drawn his story from historical accounts and newspaper reports, revealing the life of the man known as the “Skunk’s Misery Bandit.”
I first found out about Orval while researching other local history topics in the area of Hespeler, Ontario where I lived. During my research Orval’s name turned up several times as he was in Guelph, Hespeler, Idylwild and Puslinch during his escapades.
I was amazed that nobody had researched his life previously. One of the main challenges was finding out more about Orval’s private life and the lack of photos of him. I was lucky to find a distant relative of Orval’s’ who supported my work.
Eventually I decided to do comprehensive research of Orval, and I am very pleased with the book that came out of that research.
In part 1 of this series, I described the altar window in St John’s Anglican Church, Glencoe. There is another fine stained glass window in St John’s, which is found at the rear of the church to the left of the main door:
The image is titled “Christ Knocking on the door”.
“…The Light of the World is an allegorical painting by the English Pre-Raphaelite artist William Holman Hunt (1827–1910) representing the figure of Jesus preparing to knock on an overgrown and long-unopened door, illustrating Revelation 3:20: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me”….. The door in the painting has no handle, and can therefore be opened only from the inside, representing “the obstinately shut mind”.
This particular version does not show Christ holding a lamp but instead a staff.
The artist and the manufacturer are unknown to me. The style and colors of the picture suggest one of the major stained glass makers – Hobbs or McCausley.
The inscription reads:
In Memory of Thomas Strong who died 1st January 1927 aged 79 years.
He that liveth and believeth in me will never die.
Thomas Strong
From the census of 1891, Thomas Strong was a local farmer. He was married to Sarah Jane Strong. They had a son Frederick born 1881 but there is no local record for him after the 1901 census.
Thomas Strong had emigrated with Sarah from England. From below we can suppose that they both originate in the or near to Southwick, a small town in Sussex next to Brighton.
For Sarah Strong we have several peices of information from the Glencoe Transcript (thanks to Ken Willis for these):
Info from Glencoe Transcript – Wardsville News items. September 20, 1904 – Mr. and Mrs. Middlekrauff of San Francisco visited her sister Mrs. T. Strong.
September 21, 1906 – Mrs. T. Strong, who has been visiting relatives in Wiltshire England and niece Eva Frances, returned on the steamer “Empress of Britain” Sunday evening.
March 1, 1907 – Death of Sarah Jane Strong, age 57. Born in Southwick, England. Died at her home on Main Street, after a two day illness. Service at St James church by Rev. H.A. Thomas with burial in Wardsville cemetery. Cause of death : diabetes.
Info from Wardsville death records: 1 March 1907, Sarah Jane Strong, age 57 years, 3 months and 23 days, housewife. Residence – Longwoods road, Wardsville. (Main Street and Longwoods Road were one and the same). Cause of death was listed as diabetes.
Thomas became a noted benefactor of the church, loaning it $1000 to purchase the rectory building, and requiring only for interest to be paid, and the loan to be discharged at this death. In his will, he specified the stained glass window to be installed.
It is interesting therefore to speculate how his wife Sarah came to be buried in Wardsville after a funeral service at St James Church in Wardsville. There is also the disappearance of their son Frederick from all public records after 1901.
Prepared by the Executive members for the members of G&DHS. For the AGM April 16, 2025.
Preserving Our Family Histories for Future Generations
Our ancestors—whether Indigenous, settler descendants, newer generations, or recent Canadians—have all contributed to the rich history of our communities. Each of us carries important stories that deserve to be told. Historians seek the truth, striving to understand what really happened and how people have worked together over time. We share a common past, woven together through generations. Consider this: each of us has two grandmothers, four great-grandmothers, eight great-great-grandmothers, and so on—each with their own unique stories waiting to be remembered.
Every family needs both storytellers and story keepers. The Glencoe & District Historical Society encourages families to record their histories—write down stories, label the backs of photographs, and document the details that future generations will cherish.
Some families are fortunate to collaborate with authors like CJ Frederick, who transform family histories into engaging historical novels. Others use platforms like Remento or StoryWorth to compile family memories into beautifully bound books that can be passed down for generations. Online genealogy tools such as Ancestry.ca have also made it easier than ever to trace our roots.
Many families bring their archives and precious artifacts to the Historical Society for safekeeping. In today’s digital world, we recognize what a treasure trove these collections are. While digitization allows for easy sharing, it does not guarantee long-term preservation. Whether in digital or physical form, historical records are always at risk. By working together to protect and document our shared past, we ensure that future generations will have access to the rich stories that shape our community.
These are our aims for 2024/2026:
Connect with membership and build close, working relationships with all our local groups, our regional heritage groups, and the elected reps and staff people of Southwest Middlesex and County of Middlesex.
Ramp up our outreach and channels. Mobilize an IT circle to support improved communication and decision-making.
Digitize and record our stories, curate, preserve, upload, and share. Figure out better platforms for working together. Facebook groups don’t cut it.
Learn the tools offered by dynamic governance, and the flourishing business canvas
Bring our elders and youth together. Tell all the stories. 10,000 years of local history. Place making.
Build a cultural network to link history with tourism. Nurture and support the arts in heritage and cultural communities.
Lead the interactive Barn Quilt Trail project, which features an alliance of four organizations plus FedDev Government of Canada, the funder. Link our cultural assets to local tourism strategies and investments. Work with Middlesex county tourism.
Advocate for county archives. Interpret history along the Thames river Watershed arts corridor
Invite skilled local people and support their history passions. Build teams around peoples’ interest. Assign domains. Delegate authority.
Update and revise our bylaws. Build a closer working relationship with the Ontario Historical Society.
Build out our organizational structure. We have a great foundation in our bylaws featuring managers. Build a circular hierarchy to support workers, facilitators, leaders, and admin support.
Engage the branding dream team to do an agile branding process for G&DHS, the interactive Barn Quilt Trail, and our various groups and projects that need a brand
Figure out how to tell our amazing stories, make sure they are preserved and interpret the amazing history of Ontario Southwest, that we want to share with family, friends, community, travelers, guests, youth, new, Canadians, refugees, children, all of the people that make up our Rural society people.
All over the world, churches are repositories of local history as well as places of worship, and Glencoe is no different. St John’s Anglican has its share of memorials and markers of personal and public history. This is the first of a series of posts about these. As a recent newcomer to Glencoe, I am likely to be unaware of facts and details about this church, window and Anna Moss which are otherwise common knowledge. Please let me know these so I can add them to this record. – Bill Simpson
There has been a St John’s Anglican Church at the corner of Main Street and Concession Drive since 1869. This building was replaced in 1893 with the current structure, depicted in the postcard shown below, with a current view beside it.
