Continued from the June edition of Kwinmu Messenger...

Many made do with small shack-like homes. Until I was around 10 years old, I remember there were 9 or 10 of us living in a house with a kitchen and 2 tiny bedrooms, just like everyone else.
He was greatly appreciated by the people of Lennox Island for his generosity. Always willing to share what little he had.
During the winter and summer months Jacob was always seen with his team of horses down the cove cutting and hauling wood for his and many other families. When he knew there was enough for everyone, he and Alma would start making potato baskets. When there was no ash available, he travelled to NB and cut and hauled it home.
He and my mother would work 6 days a week and make 100 baskets at a given time and then they would take the team of horses and wagon or sleigh loaded with baskets to the train station and go off to sell them to prearranged and other buyers who were potato farmers all over the PEI.
My father was a humble but well read man. Unlike his father before him, he was actually camera shy. Not too many photo’s exist of he and my mother. He was a good listener and problem solver. Many, many evenings were spent at the kitchen table with the Band councillors and other men from the community to discuss and make business decisions for his people. (It should be noted that we did not learn the Mi’kmaq language. My mom was French and spoke very little English so they settled on using the English language. Dorothy and Cyrus understood and spoke Mi’kmaq fairly well) Sometimes my young friend, Elizabeth Bernard & and I would sit in the corner and she would translate).....yeah, I was bad eh. One good thing about those days was that there was no cursing or swearing).
Alma’s dad passed on when she was very young and her mother later remarried. The stepfather allowed her and her siblings to attend school on a catch as catch can basis so that she had very little formal education. When it came to raising children, she deserved a PHD in generousity and patience. She was a hard working mom with all of us to care for. She washed clothes every day on a washboard, hung them to dry and brought them in at day’s end, then she made several loaves of bread for the next day.
Alma did all this while keeping a watchful eye on all of us, bandaging scrapes and cuts and preparing 3 meals a day. In between this, she sat on the floor scraping strips of ash and making baskets with my dad. As we grew older, she taught us how to sew, knit, make baskets and do the household chores. Every evening after supper, mother would kneel us all down in the kitchen and lead us in saying the Rosary. I so remember her French accent when praying. I find myself using her words during my own night time prayers. It’s very comforting and I don’t even realize I’m doing it.
On Sunday’s, all work (except for caring for the animals) came to a halt! Sunday’s were the only days that both he and mother together, made sure everyone was up and ready for church.
Later, when Father Emmett MacInnis became our resident parish priest, he would bring his car over on the scow on Saturday and go to every house early Sunday morning and blow the horn until some one acknowledged him. We had to go to Mass in the morning and to Benediction in the afternoon. After Mass, there would be a meeting of the men’s Holy Name Society and Father would make time if requested, for those who wanted to see him to “Take the Pledge”. Those of my generation will know what that means. Father Emmett made sure to get through with Benediction just before the men’s or women/girls ball games. (he was the coach).
While my mom was busy cooking a full dinner inside, there was little time for leisure outside, especially in the summer and fall, Jacob cut and raked the hayfields and then he and his children would haul the many acres of hay to the barn. (I can still remember the... ummm... smell of freshly cut hay).
He used a one horse plough to plant several acres of potatoes....then there were weeds to pull and potato bugs to be rid of. Alma and the children who were old enough to work were right behind the plow planting the seed potatoes. Finally, in the fall, it was potato picking time. The family, (later including their sons- in- law) followed the plow as he steered the horse to uproot the potatoes. After harvesting and throughout the winters, he shared the crop with all who came to his door and were in need.
One of several incidences told to me was from Alfred Callow, a friend who has since passed on, said that when he was in his teens, with no job or training, decided to join the Army. As he was walking to the train station, my dad, who hitched a ride with a man from Port Hill, picked him up. He told Jacob that he had no money but wanted to go to Halifax to ‘sign up’ and hoped the conductor would give him a train pass in Northam. Alfred was refused fare! Dad reached into his pocket and came up with $1.14, including pennies, but the fare was $1.25 so he went in with Alfred who later said to me “I don’t know where or how but he got a ticket for me! I’ll always remember that and I try to help out the younger people when I can”.
Chief Sark partnered with Reverend J.A. MacDonald who attended to the St Anne’s annual celebrations and was involved in all ‘Indian’ issues in the earlier years. Father John A. held the Mi’kmaq in high regard and the feeling was definitely mutual. He was so successful working with the Indian people that he was appointed by the Canadian government as ‘Indian Commissioner’ in 1913. In 1935 at Father John A.’s 50th anniversary of his ordination to the priesthood during special ceremonies Chief Sark addressed the gathering on behalf of the Indians of Prince Edward Island as follows:
“In your capacity as our Commissioner, you filled the office without discrimination, ever seeking to do your utmost, always endeavouring to obtain for us every possible improvement on our reserve, that would benefit us and better our condition. Substantial remembrances ever stand as a monument to your thoughtfulness by things obtained through your untiring efforts.
We ask you to accept our thanks for all that you have been and done for us.”
Jacob lost a dear friend when Father John A. passed on in February, 1936. We heard Father John A. MacDonald’s name so often that we felt that we knew him as well.
In his final years, my dad slowed down a bit because of his health. Several of his children went to Boston to work and he had not seen their oldest son, Cyrus for many years. (Cy was in the US Army and fought on the front in the Korean Conflict.) It was a happy reunion when dad and mom came to visit there around1959. That was the last time we, in Boston saw him!
He passed away peacefully on May 29th 1960 (2 days after his 66th birthday) while we were en route to visit him in the Summerside hospital. His family and friends were devastated!
Several years later, my mom was remarried to Dan Mitchell. Dan was a veteran of both World Wars. He brought our mother to Boston where they lived for a short time before moving back home. For me, it was the most time I spent with mom for several years. (we were in the US Navy and travelled from State to State) so we thoroughly enjoyed our times together.
When the whole family returned to PEI, our mom was so happy to have us all around. No matter how well or not she felt, she always had a cup of tea or coffee and some ‘sweets’ for us.
After Dan passed on, Alma loved to visit her children, she would spend a lot of time with those on Lennox Island then she would be off to Rocky Point to spend time with the three of her family there.
Two years before her death, she finally found her 2 sisters and a brother in NB. She had not seen them since she married dad. Apparently the stepfather made her family sever all ties with her. My brother Jake and his wife Margaret drove her to their homes in NB to meet her long lost family. She was so happy that she began to doubt that it really happened so they took her back for another visit. Margaret found mom’s family by placing an ad, written in the French language and placed it in the French Newspapers and Alma’s family responded immediately. To Margaret and Jake, I extend my whole hearted love and thanks.
When she became ill and unable to live alone, Jake and Margaret built a small apartment onto their house so mom would have her privacy and be close to them and help her with daily living.
Alma (Cormier) (Sark) Mitchell passed on after a lengthy illness, at Moncton City Hospital on December 1st, 1986. We all miss her very much as a mother and friend.
May Chief Jacob and Alma rest in peace and continue to watch over and pray for the Mi’kmaq People that they loved so dearly.
 
The direct descendants of Jacob and Alma Sark are:
Dorothy (David) Bernard, both deceased
Cyrus (Sarah Johnson) Sark, both deceased
Mary Catherine (deceased, age 13)
Marina (Stephen) Bernard, both deceased
Mary (Moses) Bernard, both deceased
Margaret (Peggy) (Tom) Rydzewski
James (Jimmy) (Carolyn Francis) Sark
Lloyd (Lillian Labobe) Sark, both deceased
Hubert (Betty Labobe) (Rose Labobe, deceased) Sark
John Jacob (Margaret Spidle) Sark. John (Jake) deceased
Michael Sark, deceased
John Joe (Eileen Dalton) Sark