I remember Mrs. Davis teaching us Sunday School. She would put up with the 3 hymns I knew, as I was the only one who played piano at that time, and my repertoire was limited. She would have us all up to her upper apartment for a meal and dessert at the end of the school year. I thought it a fancy affair, with tableclothes, china dishes and a lot of fuss put into a luncheon for all of us snotty-nosed kids.
Mrs. Davis was probably the first real business women I knew, taking over the managership of the Renown Co-op after her husbund, Jack Davis, had passed on.
I remember, too, the friendship that she and my mom (Mary Edythe Reid) had. They would often have tea together and exchange small gifts. I actually have an owl ornament in my own kitchen that was given to my mom by Mrs. Davis. I also remember my dad, Herb Reid, phoning Mrs. Davis to see if she needed anything from "town". This was a ritual that took place probably a couple of times a week.
I also remember Mr. Davis, who loved to tease all of us kids. I remember he always had a large pair of binnoculars upstairs sitting in a cabinet. One time, he stood me on a chair, placed these large, black things before my eyes, and said, "Look way off in the distance, you will be able to see a church, and the steeple is quite tall". I remember being so impressed. Mr. Davis had been a member of the Black Watch Regiment, and I distinctly recall seeing the kilt and hat that went with the uniform. Mr. Davis was an extreme asthmatic and would often get very ill. I remember the day he passed away, and went to the store to check everyone out. It was a sad time.
The pictures of Renown are rather sad and cold, but the memories are warm and joyfull. How wonderful it would be to have a community now, like we had as children.
Maureen [ Reid ] Deacon
20-Oct-2008 16:07
Our family moved away from Renown when I was 12 years old. I have many fond memories of life there as a child. We would go to the store with great excitement to pruchase a coke soft drink. They came in bottles then and cost 10 cents. If you drank it at the store and left the pop bottle behind then it only cost 8 cents. I would often go to get items for my mother. Many a time I would call up the stairs "Hi. Mrs. Davis are you there? "
Kim Schellenberg
20-Oct-2008 15:31
Oh, thank you so much for taking these photos!
I lived just down the road from Mrs. Davis. She & her husband had ran the co-op store, & in their early days lived in the apartment above the store. My sister & I would jump on our bikes & go visit her. She would serve us tea & scones. I always marvelled at the beautiful simplicity of her cupboards: rather than doors, they had light yellow curtains with tiny flowers hanging down the fronts of them.
Her front living room window was always a mass grouping of plants. Often if we wanted to go from the livingroom to the front porch we had to crawl beneath a quilt-frame that was set up with her latest quilt. A survivor of the Great Depression, she didn't let things go to waste. Her quilts were a wild combination of colours. Although they were an odd mix, the one thing they had in common was quality: she would use men's silk ties for the fabric.
Upstairs the best 'tree-house' ever waited for my sister & I! Mrs. Davis had not lived upstairs for years, but the apartment was still there & empty. To access it, you climbed a steep set of narrow stairs located on the right side of the hallway heading to the back from the porch. A little kitchen & bedrooms were open to both the imagination & exploration. I often wondered why she put up with her little visitors?!
Mrs. Davis & my grandmother were best friends, and it always struck me as funny that they would greet each other by "Hello Mrs. Davis" and "Hello Mrs. Reid". When I think about it now, it was greeting filled with the greatest respect for a friend.
Mrs. Davis always had her hair done up in a very long, white braid that she immaculately twisted & held to her head with little metal combs. It was a small indicator of the self-respect & care she gave herself, and I marvelled how long it took for her to grow it, as my hair was usually a short mess.
Mrs. Davis got sick as she got older, and had to go to the Watrous Union Hospital. We would bring a fruit basket & visit her there. Even though I was a small child, I remember being absolutely incensed at the nurses for cutting her hair short! I just thought it was such an affront and an insult to her person to do that; after so many years of doing her hair all by herself, and with such little time left, why did they not honour her person? It obviously impressed upon me the importance of the dignity of the individual, and how no matter what condition they are in to respect them. I just remember marching my small legs down the stairs & out of the hospital, glaring at every nurse I saw on my way out.
Many years after she passed away, I remember I went to the house to try to take one more peak inside. The front & side doors were locked, so I thought I would try through the back addition. As I walked into the addition, one of the boards felt spongey beneath my foot. Suddenly, a place that had represented love & acceptance was no longer safe, and I skidaddled out of there. I walked around front and stared inside, and noticed that the ceiling seemed lower. I realized the little apartment was slowly caving in to the store below. It was a very sad day as I climbed onto my bike and rode away, as I knew that part of my childhood was over. I never physically went there again, but in dreams I would revisit her bright kitchen with the little stoves, see the large brown oval braided rug beneath the quilt-frame, and rest in the knowledge that someone loved me quietly & consistently, for no other reason than because I was a child.
