Memories of Petites
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