My city Calgary is planning to read Mavericks : The Incorrigible History of Alberta by Aritha Van Herk this fall during One Book One Calgary.
Every family has one. Our maverick is my great-grandmother Leta May Bailly. Born in Lunenberg, Nova Scotia in 1889, she was friends with local boy Robert Silver. He moved to Calgary. Her father, a strict Lutheran, told Leta she couldn't travel west on the train alone and unmarried to follow him. Leta did, and they married in Calgary on November 6, 1912. There they lived in a house at the corner of Memorial Drive and Edmonton Trail. They filled the house with their son Bert, a Boston Terrier named Buddy, and two Indian motorcycles.
When Leta came to Calgary she cut her Gibson Girl locks in favour of a short bob. She wore mens' trousers while she rode her Indian motorcycle into the mountains for picnics. Leta liked the trousers so much she had a dressmaker make pairs in all kinds of fabrics, including a pink satin pair for bridge parties.
By the time my Mom was born, her "Nana" had given up the Indian motorcycle. She ate her Pot of Gold chocolates and chainsmoked, while her budgie Joey sat on the rim of her glasses. She died in 1963 so I never met her. When I got married, though, my Uncle Al made us a poster size blowup of our favourite family photo- Nana sitting on her Indian motorcyle at the garage.
Who's your family maverick?
Every family has one. Our maverick is my great-grandmother Leta May Bailly. Born in Lunenberg, Nova Scotia in 1889, she was friends with local boy Robert Silver. He moved to Calgary. Her father, a strict Lutheran, told Leta she couldn't travel west on the train alone and unmarried to follow him. Leta did, and they married in Calgary on November 6, 1912. There they lived in a house at the corner of Memorial Drive and Edmonton Trail. They filled the house with their son Bert, a Boston Terrier named Buddy, and two Indian motorcycles.
When Leta came to Calgary she cut her Gibson Girl locks in favour of a short bob. She wore mens' trousers while she rode her Indian motorcycle into the mountains for picnics. Leta liked the trousers so much she had a dressmaker make pairs in all kinds of fabrics, including a pink satin pair for bridge parties.
By the time my Mom was born, her "Nana" had given up the Indian motorcycle. She ate her Pot of Gold chocolates and chainsmoked, while her budgie Joey sat on the rim of her glasses. She died in 1963 so I never met her. When I got married, though, my Uncle Al made us a poster size blowup of our favourite family photo- Nana sitting on her Indian motorcyle at the garage.
Who's your family maverick?
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