Mem­o­ries of Petites

The Gulf News (Port aux Basques) - - EDITORIAL -

Dear Ed­i­tor,

Many times I have sat down and tried to write my mem­o­ries of Petites—my home on paper – but I seem to get my emo­tions all jum­bled.

Can you imag­ine how sur­prised I was last week when my sis­ter, Dianne, sent me the story your re­porter wrote on Petites, and then I re­ceived the same story from a friend in St. John’s?

Since I am deaf-blind and have a braille dis­play con­nected to my computer, the Gulf News isn’t al­ways easy to get into. Be­lieve it or not, but the house in the pic­ture that has the hole in the roof and has blown over was my home.

There was lots more to Petites though when I lived there than can ever re­ally be writ­ten about! I knew Roy Vau­tier grow­ing up al­though he was much older than me. I ran around all of these hills and I could run from one end of Petites to the other in half an hour.

Yes, it is sad what’s hap­pened to Petites and al­though I’ll never go back again, Petites will al­ways be home to me! I have many fond mem­o­ries of my home.

I now live in Toronto and I moved here in 1985.

Grow­ing up in Petites wasn’t as bad as peo­ple in the city might think. I be­lieve that when I was grow­ing up in Petites most peo­ple there were happy with their life be­cause few peo­ple had ever been fur­ther away from home than Port aux Basques, and they knew no other life than the life they had in Petites.

It was es­pe­cially hard to travel be­cause boat was the only trans­porta­tion and we had to watch the weather con­stantly. It could be beau­ti­ful one day and the wa­ter could be smooth as a pond but the next morn­ing you get up and a very thick fog could blan­ket ev­ery­thing and the sea could be roar­ing

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