My mother was born Anna Francis Christensen in the Danish farming community of Dalum, near Drumheller, Alberta.
She was the middle child of five born to Jens (Jim) and Elizabeth (Lizzie) Christensen on May 20th, 1923 on the kitchen floor of the farmhouse.
By then they had the routine down. Not so for the birth of their first child, Hans Joseph.
Jens and Lizzie had worked out a communication system if the baby was coming. Jens was out working the field with horses within sight of the house. If the baby was coming, Lizzie would put out a white sheet on the clothesline as a signal for Jens to come in to help with the birth.
Good plan.
However, the baby started coming so fast that Lizzie hung out two white sheets to suggest urgency.
My grandfather saw the two sheets and concluded, “Oh, she has put out two sheets. She must be doing the laundry.”
He continued working the field.
It happened that a neighbour popped by and rang the doorbell.
“Tell that fool to come in quick! We are having a baby!”
I never heard any stories about my mother’s birth, so it probably went better.
Elizabeth Christensen
I should probably say a little about how Lizzie ended up giving birth on a farmhouse kitchen floor in rural Alberta.
She was born to a German-American family in a small town South of Chicago called Streator Illinois. Later in life, all of her memories were about living a contented life in Streator.
I have been there twice and have a good idea why.
My grandfather had come from Denmark with his brothers to make a life in the mid-west.
One day he approached Elizabeth and said something like, ‘Lizzie, I want to marry you. We will start a farm in Alberta in Canada and live in a granary.
I don’t think any of those words made any sense to her.
She said yes anyway and possibly regretted it her whole life. If this story were about her, I would expand on that.
Life On The Farm
My mother’s father was very determined to have the life he wanted and brilliant at assessing soil, weather, farming techniques, and markets. He was great with young children and people who thought like he did.
My mother was something of a willful and independent child who often butted heads with her father. My grandfather liked to keep the children busy doing chores, even if he needed to invent things for them to do like picking rocks or picking wild oats.
Francis did not mind the regular chores like milking the cows, feeding livestock, or collecting eggs. She resented what seemed like busywork.
She loved to slip away to roam the coulees, enjoying the plants and wildlife found there and avoiding her father’s tasks.
The Badlands in the Drumheller area is a great place to explore dinosaurs and paleontology.
Anthropology and Archeology
Somewhere in her
This interest was not supported by her father, leading to a lifelong resentment, especially since her parents found the money to send her youngest sister Dorothy to Nursing School.
Nursing probably seemed more practical to them.
West Coast Bound
Fran fled the farm and the church at age eighteen and headed to the West Coast. She immediately felt at home in Vancouver, living in the West End.
By that time World War II had started. My mother said it was exciting times.
There was a spirit of Carpe Diem (seize the day) as people went off to war with a high probability of not returning. So, party while you can.
She married my father, George Douglas Dixon, who went to sea in the merchant marines.
My mother worked as a machinist during the war, making anti-aircraft guns for Dominion-Bridge.
She was very good and challenged the practice of paying women less for the work. She demonstrated that she produced work of equal or better quality than the male machinists and was given equal pay.
Despite the Germans targeting fuel supply ships, George returned safely.
Whether it was from smoking or from working in the toxic ship engine room, he developed emphysema that would haunt him the rest of his life.
Fishing Life
My dad had sent his danger-pay to his father and asked him to look for a business he could do after the war. His father bought a troller from a government auction and my parents headed up and down the British Columbia coast. They had some great boating adventures at the end of the war.
My mother said that was the most enjoyable time that she and George spent together.
Although they loved the fishing lifestyle, my father could not get over the guilt that the boat they bought had been confiscated from a Japanese fisherman during the war. He thought the boat should have gone back to the original owner interned during the war.
They sold the boat when my brother Doug was born, followed in two years by Jim.
Lynn Valley
They bought an acre of land in Upper Lynn Valley for something like $100 and built a house. They contemplated buying a second acre, which would be worth many millions today.
My mother opened up Fran’s Fish and Chips at the epicenter of Lynn Valley, where Mountain Highway crosses Lynn Valley Road. Today it is a PetroCan parking lot.
I come across people today who remember Fran’s Fish and Chips. It seemed like they were well set.
I was born March 6, 1958. The patron’s at Fran’s Fish and Chips named me Gregory. I have no idea where my middle name, Allan, came from. GAD.
All was not well in the Dixon household.
My father’s health deteriorated and he was drinking too much. He turned a blind eye to teenagers drinking in the shop, which caused them to lose the business.
My mother was furious.
Penticton
The family packed up and moved to Penticton, British Columbia. George’s brother said that the drier weather in the Okanagan would be better for Dad’s health and he could work with him in his sign business.
Lynda was born in Penticton in September 1960.
Penticton was a disaster.
My uncle did not have enough work for two people. Employment is very seasonal in the Okanagan and the habit was to work in the summer and collect unemployment insurance in the winter.
My Dad’s health and drinking got worse. My mother took in boarders to make ends meet.
My brother Doug took to doing things as a teenager that were not advised.
Church
One of these activities resulted in a court order to go to a church. In the day most small towns posted a sign with the local churches and service groups. The underlying message was: if you are not a member of one of these groups, keep moving.
My mother went to church with Doug once. The sermon was of the hell and brimstone variety where everyone should feel guilty for simply being alive.
“I don’t think we need to do that again. Do you?” my mother asked Doug.
He shook his head and that was the end of church visits.
Run Out Of Town
Doug quit school a few weeks before graduation and looked on track to do follow the casual work/pogey career path of the Okanagan.
He came home one day to find clothes and camping gear packed up on the front porch.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“You and Gary Kellecta” are heading North to find work. You are not staying here to become a beach bum like everyone else.”
And so they did. Maybe some day Doug will write about their adventures in the oil patch and the prairies in the winter.
Gary later said it was the kick in the ass he needed.
Back To The Coast
A few years later my mother packed Lynda and me off to Vancouver, leaving my dad in the yellow house.
My brother Jim was working in Prince George and knew nothing about it. He had graduated from High School but wanted to take a few courses over to boost his grade point average to apply to study business machines at the British Columbia Institue of Technology (BCIT).
He arrived to find us gone with no forwarding address and our father alone and drunk in the house.
He asked Dad if he would support him while he went to school. Jim says he would not. I think the reality was that he could not, though Jim will not concede the possibility.
Jim eventually came to Vancouver and tracked us down like missing people. We were living at the corner of Nicola and Nelson, across from fire station. Both buildings are still there.
Jim completed his courses at King George High School and got into BCIT.
Back In Lynn Valley
Mom worked in various cafe’s on Robson Street. We moved a lot when I was in grade three. I went to three different schools before mom bought the house on Fromme Road in Lynn Valley.
She bought the house from a friend and customer at Fran’s Fish and Chips with a simple agreement to pay. In those days she would have had a hard time getting a loan from a bank as a woman and single mother.
Fran’s Cafe
She opened Fran’s Cafe on Lonsdale, which did quite well. My mother embraced the coffee crowd, while other restaurants snubbed it.
Sure, people came in and got a cheap coffee. They also became loyal customers who would come in for breakfast, and sometimes lunch too.
I helped after school, washing dishes, scrubbing floors, and sometimes flipping burgers. Some of my friends did too, getting paid in burgers and fries.
My mother was amazing. She went in very early to make bread, pies, and brew coffee. She took orders and cooked on her own until a waitress would come in for the lunch rush. She never wrote down the orders and managed it mostly on her own.
Then she cleaned and locked up before going home after a very long day.
The business was good enough to pay off the house before the landlord jacked up the rent so high she simply pulled the plug on the cafe.
Adventures In Cooking
She then took various cooking jobs in logging camps, Pink Mountain, and UBC Research Farm on Vancouver Island.
That left Lynda and I in the house on our own as young adults. Not a good idea.
I almost always played in bands.
I think our quiet Danish
Anthropology and Archeology Revisited
My mother did pursue her interest in Anthropology, even if she did not go to University.
She read a lot about history and how ancient peoples lived.
She traveled widely to Machu Picho in Peru, the Aztec Ruins in Mexico, Greece, Egypt, and China.
She traveled across Canada and the US.
Personally, I think she had the best Anthropology experience for her personality. Given her feisty nature and tendency to question academic notions, she might have found University life frustrating.
She did take some adult education courses and had access to everything she needed to explore her interests.
Still, I think she never quite let go of her disappointment at not going to college.
Healthy Debates
Mom loved to argue. Her favourite uncle was her mother’s brother in Streator Illinois. He was feisty too and famous for suing the Catholic Church in Streator and winning. The family had donated an altar to the church that was left out of the rebuilding plan.
They seemed to be kindred spirits and enjoyed sparring over ideas.
I had some background in Philosophy and did not take things personally when she would argue a point. I realized that she liked to be a contrarian and would argue against a point for the sport of it. I would gradually shift my position until she got around to arguing my original point. Then stop.
Lynda had a hard time with it being somewhat opinionated herself.
My first wife had a notion that if you took the time to present facts and reasons for a point of view, people would at least concede that you might have a point.
Not so with my mother or her father.
My mother and I talked about a lot of things over the years. And she was a great help and friend to me in many ways.
We probably agreed on more things than we disagreed on. We both enjoyed the interview series with Joseph Cambell and Bill Moyes called The Masks of God.
More Church Discussion
We agreed that if there was a God, it would need to be the same God for everyone, especially the Judeo Christian Islamic varieties. Moderate Muslims seem to understand this better than the other two.
The Christian churches especially seem to have trouble recognizing the validity of other Christian churches, of all things!
Were they not paying attention to what Jesus was saying in parables such as The Good Samaritan?
Holiday Home Cooking
Holidays were always special.
Mom would have the family over for a large dinner. The place would smell of turkey and stuffing, potatoes, and vegetables, followed by pies and other desserts. Sometimes there would be roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. Or maybe a huge ham.
Mom was not a fancy cook, but it was the most comforting home cooking to me.
Sundays in Penticton were a treat when I was about 6. She would let us watch Walt Disney, The Ed Sullivan Show, and Bonanza.
She made french fries as a treat. I still love french fries and it shows.
Hot Air Balloon
As she seemed to like adventures, the family chipped in to get her a ride in a hot air balloon. It took many months for the weather to permit the balloon ride.
On the day we all went out to take photos of her experience. Our sons Kael and Grahame were about two.
There was a problem with the landing and the passenger basket bumped into a tree.
Mom twisted her ankle.
“Thanks for the gift”, she said, “but no more dangerous adventures, please.”
We figured if she ever signed up for sky diving, we should start worrying about her health.
Helping On Lynda’s Farm
Mom often spent the summers in Haida Gwaii (Queen Charlotte Islands) to help Lynda with her market garden on Maude Island. There was no shortage of lively, opinionated discussions around the wood stove!
One year Adrienne Clarkson, then Governor General of Canada, came to visit Maude Island Farm. I thought she came to check out some programs that Lynda was running on the farm. It turns out that she had asked who had the best organic carrots on Haida Gwaii, and someone said, “why, Lynda Dixon on Maude Island Farm!”
It was quite a lot for her to visit. RCMP security officers came to inspect the island the day before and her whole entourage came by boat.
The normal population of Maude Island is around seven, depending on who is visiting at the time.
Adrienne and her husband John Ralston Saul toured the garden. She ate a
I woke up in a sweat one night with the fear that my mother would be seated next to Adrienne and blurt out something like, “Pierre Elliott Trudeau destroyed Canada .” (which many people from Alberta think).
Turns out she did sit next to Adrienne Clarkson during lunch.
When I told her about my fear, she said:
“I would not have brought that up. And besides, her entourage was very quick to deflect awkward conversation. “
Volunteering
She had a very active life into her eighties. She taught pottery at Silver Harbour and ran the therapy garden for psychiatric patients at Lions Gate Hospital.
She also volunteered at Park & Tilford Gardens.
Then she stopped.
She started having trouble with her vision and stopped doing the crafts she liked. Reading and watching TV seemed to be problematic.
The Fall
Then one day she fell and broke her hip. She lay on the floor in a semiconscious state for three days before the building manager opened the door to check on her.
She was mad that the paramedics resuscitated her. She was ready to go.
She did recover and had a hip replacement. I was very impressed with Lions Gate Hospital as they ran a full suite of tests and did everything to restore her to good health.
That is when we learned from a brain scan that she had had a brain aneurysm many years back. There was scar tissue about the size of a chestnut pressing against her optic nerve. The surgeon said that if she were 20 years old, the chance of recovering from surgery would be small. Not an option at her age.
It did explain in hindsight an increase in grouchiness and why she stopped doing things. She had complained about headaches at the time. And she rarely complained about anything.
Exercise Motivation
We discovered that smoking was a very good exercise motivation during her recovery.
Although the hospital sent a physiotherapist to her help her regularly, I don’t think she did any of the exercises when he was not there.
Her building manager reported, however, that she took her walker out the garage door during a rare Vancouver snow storm where the sidewalks had snow about a foot deep to run her walker up the middle of the street to get a carton of smokes from London Drugs.
She took the next year to get her paperwork in order and dispell a few myths about her life.
Since I was only two when we moved to Penticton, I had unfairly blamed the Okanagan for destroying the family. I did not know until that year that they had lost Fran’s Fish and Chips before they left for Penticton.
I had been thinking that the family left a thriving business and acreage in a growing area to a family fiasco in Penticton.
Mom was clear that the wheels had fallen off the cart long before that.
George
My father eventually sold the house in Penticton and moved to a rooming house in downtown Vancouver. He regained friendship with my mother and sometimes helped at Fran’s Cafe on Lonsdale. He also helped build a model car track in the basement when I was interested in that and build the recreation room that became the music room and Dixie’s Cabaret.
He also took up photography and loved nature. He took Lynda and me on a train and bus tour of British Columbia, ending with a ferry ride from Prince Rupert to Port Hardy. I credit him with my interest in photography, writing, and nature.
He died in the rooming house likely as a combination of the flu and his emphysema at age 65. I think I was 17 at the time.
Rocks
My mother liked collecting rocks. Her suitcase would often be insanely heavy when she came back for a trip.
One day Jim was using a jack to try to level her garden shed, that was listing severely.
“What does she have in here? Rocks?”
“Well, Yes.”
There was a good part of a ton of rocks in the shed.
Jim inherited our mother’s love of rocks.
He now collects rocks himself and polishes to make beautiful items and jewelry.
The End
I found mom dead on the floor of her condo almost exactly one year after her fall. The coroner eventually concluded that she had suffered a massive aneurysm in her chest and was likely dead by the time she hit the floor.
Probably a good thing as the ambulance went to New Westminster by mistake.
Meanwhile, the police grilled me on the possibility that I had killed her. There was a lot of blood.
Many people came out to the Circle of Life.
I have
Many of my friends and those of my siblings thought of my mother as a friend. She would talk to anyone about anything.
Loose Ends
Although she fell short of breaking even on her estate and not leaving any money on the table, she had leveraged a lot of hard work into businesses, a house that was paid off, and a condo with money in the bank. Not an easy accomplishment for a woman raising young children on her own.
She did eventually have a little help from her mother. Lizzie was so mad that her husband left everything to their two sons and nothing to the three daughters, that she left all of her
There is one characteristic that all of our siblings inherited from our parents.
Mom and Dad both would cycle through all of their children’s names before landing on the right name.
‘Doug, Jim, Greg, Lynda, … Who are you anyway!’
We are genetically doomed!
Part of mom’s legacy.
See:
