1921 – 1924¹

Mr. Grabin, a man who I believe was homeless, used to visit us occasionally. He was a kind man and loved children.  Because he had a beard, we thought he was old; he could have been all of twenty. I don’t believe anybody knew where he lived or when he would show up, but we were always happy to see him. He repaired things around the house and I particularly remember a swing he built for us. My mother fed him, and then packed some food and coffee to go. He always brought his own coffee pot and asked my mother not to wash it for fear it would wear out. She washed it anyway.

We had a beautiful large beige dog with long hair. He may have been a collie. We took turns having him pull us in a sled in the wintertime. He disappeared one day, and we all missed him.  Sometime later we saw him chained up in a yard on a corner lot on the outskirts of the city. There wasn’t anything we could do about getting him back in those days.

I was at the corner store one evening close to home when a man approached me and asked if I would show him where I lived. He walked me home. When we passed our house, he asked me to come to see where he lived.  I was eight at the time. My oldest sister, Olie, was playing on the street in front of our house and called to ask where I was going. The man disappeared, and Olie then explained why I should never go anywhere with strangers. She was street wise at the age of twelve.

One day my brother William (two years my junior) and I became fascinated by two wheels on the washing machine. When activated, one wheel spun clockwise, the other counterclockwise. We took turns spinning the wheels and placing our fingers on the larger wheel to feel the sensation as it spun. While William was having his turn on the wheel his hand slipped and he severed two fingers on his left hand down to his knuckles.

We were terrified. My mother was shopping at the corner store, so we both ran there to find her. The next thing I remember was visiting Bill at the hospital. He was never able to play an instrument, except maybe drums (had he been interested). I always felt responsible because I was close to two years older, but he never blamed me for his loss.

About 70 years later when Bill was in his eighties, he somehow injured the stub of his severed fingers and was unable to stop the bleeding. He saw a doctor who asked if he brought the rest of his fingers thinking the accident had just occurred. Bill, of course, thought that funny.

A friend of my mother’s came for a visit on my ninth birthday and brought me a doll – my very first gift and my very first doll. I was ecstatic.

We moved to Burrrows Avenue in 1924, the year Alice was born.

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¹ The 1921 census records the Bobowsky family living at 576 Flora Avenue in Winnipeg.  The family members enumerated were Martin, Netta (Anastazia) and children Olga (Olie), Paul, Nellie (Angela), William and Millie. Angela was six years old. Today 576 Flora Avenue is the site of a church parking lot. Return