Recalling a 1945 visit to P.E.I.

Taking the train from Montreal to Anne's land

I thought you might be interested in the contrast between my first visit to Prince Edward Island in 1945 and 76 years later in 2021. I'm now 87 years old and was 11 years old then. Certainly the friendship of the Island has not changed.

1945

As a family, we travelled overnight from our home in Montreal to Moncton, arriving at 8 a.m. (Atlantic). A train was waiting for us to go to Sackville, N.B. My mother, myself, aged 11, my brother, Charlie, aged 7, and my sister, Abby, aged 3, were making the trip. My father was unable to come as he was doing “war work” at Petawawa, Ont.

Placing my hand on a pile of papers, they burst into flames. Safety matches were not safe. I was burned quite badly. Luckily, travelling in the opposite seats were army troops being taken from Halifax to Vancouver to board ships for the Asiatic War with Japan. An army medical corps treated the burns and my right hand was put in a sling and medicines and instructions were given to my mother.

On arrival at Sackville, a train was waiting to take passengers to Cape Tormentine, where the ferry to P.E.I. left for Borden. Roads were few, so the train stopped often so people could travel from one part to another along the line. I couldn’t carry anything and my mother had her purse, a backpack and Abby and Charlie had a mini backpack.

The gangway up to the ferry swayed and was narrow. We waited to be the last to board. Other passengers helped us onto the deck and that is as far as we managed. One bought us some sandwiches while we needed wait.

On arrival, we had to wait until everyone had come down the narrow gangway. Then again we were helped down to a train just leaving for Charlottetown. All the carriages had windows, which didn't open, and it was a hot, humid but dry day.

Every mile and a half, the train stopped and an empty milk churn exited onto a platform just outside the door of the railway car and a churn full of milk taken on board.

We finally reached Hunter River at about 7:30 p.m. and were met by a farmer — unlike Anne of Green Gables, who met no one. The farmer had a tractor and a wagon onto which we were helped to climb, along with other passengers. It was quite far to Cavendish, our destination.

Eventually, we were deposited at Mr. Wyand's cabins. She was waiting and had a real supper for us. “There are seconds if you want more.” I dug in until I was full.

We settled in and the next day met other families and as children there were “mates” to play with. It was a memorable and very happy summer for two months. Then we returned to Montreal.

B.W. MacInnis is a retired teacher, who taught school in Quebec, Ontario, New York City and most of his career in Oxford, England. He now lives in Dartmouth, N.S., and visits P.E.I. regularly.