EDITOR’S NOTE: After 22 years of writing about the people of Manitoulin, our Now and Then correspondent Petra Wall is hanging up her quill, at least as far as the Now and Then column is concerned. The Expositor is grateful for her contributions over the years and wishes she and Bill all the best.Petra’s diligent work has been much appreciated in the dozen columns she has penned each of the last 22 years. Lots of words and photos and history preserved.
Thank you Petra. Sincerely, Alicia McCutcheon, publisher.
Petra Wall
My earliest memory, at age four, in 1949 is the devastation in the city of Berlin, the collapsing, ‘bombed out’ buildings. They were everywhere. For my birth, mother had travelled to Konstanz on the Swiss border to get away from the daily siege in Berlin. Konstanz was relatively quiet. I appeared on December 7, 1944. My mother, Eva Maroldt, I learned years later, was also nursing three other babies whose mothers were not able to feed them. We stayed for a few weeks before returning home to Steglitz, Berlin later that month. Berlin was highly targeted by Allied bombing at the time. I learned that mother and I had spent a lot of time, daily, in the shelters.
I was named Petra Carmen Konstanze Maroldt. Carmen came from the opera of the same name which my father had thoroughly enjoyed. Konstanze came from the city where I was born and I would be called Petra. Six months later, in the post-war era, inflation was extremely high. My mother claimed that a wheelbarrow of money couldn’t buy a loaf of bread, if you could even find a loaf. My father, Otto Maroldt, was away for almost seven years during and after the war. He was rebuilding bombed bridges. After the war, he walked back from France. When he arrived at Steglitz, he resumed his work running the Maroldt Bakery at the back of the apartments he owned. Much of the bakery had been shelled but it was still useable.
Meanwhile. my mother and her 16-year-old brother Dickie had to deal with the Russian takeover of Berlin in East Germany, as well as the inflation. They would take my baby carriage and try to find items they could barter for food. Money had no value. Once they went to the American storage area and found cigarette cartons. They loaded some into the baby carriage and found they were shot at when they attempted to leave. The Russians were in control.
My mother and I also spent some time in Babelsberg, where my grandmother lived, to get away from the height of the bombing in Berlin. My uncle Dickie was asked to buy milk from local farmers for me. He went out frequently with a small metal jug to fetch the milk. One time he came to a small pond and found four of his school friends executed, just lying there. This shock would last a lifetime with him. Understandably, he had great difficulty finding milk for me after this terrible event.
My father was running his bakery business and looking after his apartment complex. As mentioned, both had been shelled but the apartments were still livable as well. My mother helped run the little store-front bakery at the roadside of the apartment building. She would make marzipan figurines that decorated the store window. Occasionally I was given a marzipan treat. I also remember playing with my cousin Dieter in the old courtyard of the two apartment buildings.
We kept a few animals in the heart of that city. We had a few pigs, chickens and a rooster who didn’t like me much. He would attack when four-year-old me was hugging his chickens. Eventually my father sacrificed the rooster and all that was left of him was his big dew claw which wound up in the chess-men box.
I recall one Christmas when our festive tree was all lit up with real candles and real flames. I got a beautiful playhouse made by my mother. Visiting my grandmother Oschi in Babelsberg was always fun. One time I was sent there because I had whooping cough and couldn’t be around my newborn brother, Tom. Oschi put me into a small wagon and pulled me through the woods behind her house. We found large brown and yellow mushrooms and they were delicious.
I started school in Berlin. My first day was special with a large cone of candies and treats. I also spent one school year in Austria with my grandfather, an inventor who created a specialized thermocouple, after which he had moved from Germany to Austria. I recall a dark basement with many lines of glowing test tubes. I had to be accompanied by an adult to gain entrance to this fascinating but restricted place.
My dad had a sailboat and occasionally our family came along. He would surprise me by pulling a long dark eel out of the water. At the time, I didn’t realize that this smoked eel would have been purchased prior to being pulled out of the water. I just thought my father was an excellent fisher. In 1950, a year after the blockade in Berlin had shut down the bakery because baking supplies could not reach Berlin, my father decided it was time to make a significant change. We were to move to Canada and start a new life. He left that year and found work in Quebec. He became a lumberjack for a year. In 1952 my mother, three-year-old brother and seven-year-old me were ready to leave Germany. By this time father was working for John Inglis in Toronto. He was learning to drill holes for large turbines like the ones in Niagara Falls. He had rented a room in a Toronto home where he shared a bathroom and kitchen. We were to join him.
On the day we were leaving, I was firmly hugged by my grandmother who was in tears as we were saying goodbye. We were going to the station where a train would take us from Berlin, through East Germany to West Germany and finally to the coast of France where a large ship, the Columbia, would take us to Canada. I didn’t realize the implications of leaving at the time. I’m sure my grandmother must have been wondering if she would ever see us again.
Soon we were on our way, but the trip had its challenges. The train stopped about three or four times while in East Germany. Each time, my mother had to take her suitcase, get off the train and speak to the Russian guards. They could see we were leaving the country even though that was not allowed. She had to bribe them with something in her suitcase to get back on the train. For the last check she was still at the guard’s desk with her suitcase open when she heard the train start to leave. My three-year-old brother and I were alone on the train. She threw something out of her suitcase at the guard, slapped the case together and sprinted back to the train platform, jumping onto the moving train.
Finally, we reached the border of France and we got on the big ship Columbia. For the next 10 days, I was mostly nauseous. My mother was fine, as was my little brother. I spent a lot of time in my bunk. We had a small stateroom with four bunk beds, two for us and two for another passenger. I did get to the dining room a few times before we got to the east coast of Canada and Pier 21 where all immigrants landed and were recorded. Our next stop was Quebec City where my aunt Hanni and Uncle Freddie lived. We stayed for a few days and then got back on the train bound for Toronto. Father met us at the train station and took us home to his one-room apartment on Alcina Avenue in downtown Toronto. I recall our family being gifted some everyday items from others that were also new arrivals and knew what we were up against. We tried to reciprocate with favours when we could.
I recall being taken to Grade 1 in my neighborhood school. I knew no English. The teacher kindly helped me from time to time by writing an English word on the board i.e. ‘walk’ and then a student was asked to walk at the front of the class. Over the next few months, I learned the language. I had already attended two years of school in Berlin so I could read. Luckily, I was able to help the other students sitting near me when they were learning to read. I could give something back. I recall getting a special commemorative coin with the crowning of Queen Elizabeth in 1953. I also recall getting lost in Toronto after leaving a friend’s house. After a couple of hours, I walked into a corner store and the owner called the police, who took me home. I knew my address on Alcina Avenue. My mother hadn’t realized that I was even lost. She thought I was still playing with my friend and she would bring me home.
Another early memory was being chased by a boy after school. He was a student in high school. He threw small rocks at me and called me a Nazi and yelled ‘go back where you came from.’ I told my mother about him and one day she saw him chasing me. Being a good sprinter, she chased after him and he realized he had met a more formidable member of my family. The next day mother took me to high school. I had to pick him out of a class, and I knew that that would be difficult. Luckily, he made it easy. When I came into his class, he whipped off his glasses and I recognized him immediately. There was no more chasing after that.
In 1956 we moved to Rouge Hill on the east side of Toronto, near Pickering. The house was a small cottage on 1.5 acres of trees and lawn. It was a beautiful spot. I lived there for the next seven years until I left for university. High school started in Pickering until the newer high school close to our home in Rouge Hill was finished. Luckily, I did well and became the valedictorian in Grade 12. The night I gave my little speech was the same night President Kennedy was shot. It was hard to memorize the speech listening to the frequent updates on the radio, culminating with the announcement of his death.
My first year of university was not successful. I went to McMaster and failed my first year in genetics. I had spent too much time having fun! I decided to take a few years off before going back. I had met my future husband, Bill Wall. We were later married in October of 1965 in West Rouge, on the east side of Toronto. We moved into an apartment in Hamilton where I became a bank teller at Upper James and Fennel. I returned to school a few years later, and finished my BA in Psychology in Windsor, my BSc in Foods and Nutrition in Edmonton with a one-year placement at a local hospital, and my MSc in Health Service Administration in Calgary.
We moved to Edmonton where Bill was managing a London Life agency. Two years later we bought a house near Devon, just outside of Edmonton. After 10 years we moved back to Ontario, to Windsor. While we were living there in Russell Woods on the east side, we purchased 70 acres on Lake Huron, south of Spring Bay on Manitoulin Island. In 1976 we built the shell of a small three-bedroom cottage on the beach. We had help from family, but Bill did most of the work. He and I nailed all the wooden shingles on the roof. This became our haven and the place we always came back to when we moved back to Edmonton. We returned every summer. Over 13 years, we had five children, Mike, Laura, Jennifer, Ryan and Rebecca.
After finishing my Masters in Calgary, we moved back to Ontario and I spent five years working in Wikwemikong as their health director. I enjoyed working there, helping the community by adding mental health programming to the health center and adding some common space, paid for by the government, in the apartment complex behind the health centre. Another successful proposal got us the funding to build the Noojmowin Teg Health Centre on Manitoulin. This center provided programming that was not currently funded by the federal government. We included a psychologist, up to four nurse practitioners, a traditional healer, dietitians, a part-time physician, diabetes care and other services. The original building in Sheguiandah burned down one night, forcing us to rebuild. This time AOK was chosen for the site and the health centre is still highly active in AOK.
I returned to Germany a few times to see my Uncle Dickie, his wife Sabine and my grandmother Oschi. Bill and I took a trip to Babelsberg to see my grandparents’ old home. Driving to that small village, you could see the Berlin wall on both sides of the street, and you could see the armed guards in their towers. The guards and their guns had been present in the airport as well. Nevertheless, much had changed in Berlin since we had left in 1952. The city had come back to life. Only the old Gedachtniskirche in Berlin, a beautiful huge church, was left in its shelled state with some of the towers missing. The apartment building we lived in was still there, repaired and my grandmother lived in one of the apartments.
Back at home, several attempts were made to help with Manitoulin projects. Dr. Roy Jeffery started a group to build seniors’ apartments behind the Centennial Manor. About a handful of us would meet regularly to see it get done. Dr. Jeffery’s brother had designed a beautiful building, and we had the hospital and the District Services Board (DSB) on the committee but in the end, the initiative for the housing was not supported by Canadian Mortgage and Housing Corporation. A few years later the apartments were built, managed by the DSB.
I was also part of a group to put a smaller version of a YMCA on the Island but again we ran into roadblocks when we realized that a central site was not supported. Each community was interested in whether it could be erected closer to their location.
After finishing my role as health director, I spent a few years as dietitian for the nursing home in Wiikwemkoong. My last few years prior to retirement were for the Manitoulin Health Centre where I was the outpatient dietitian for both the Little Current and the Mindemoya sites. In 2003, I began the Now and Then articles, depicting mostly experienced people in their retirement years. I was honoured to share Manitoulin stories and photos. In 2007 our family purchased Timberlane Rustic Lodges on Lake Manitou and we began the recreational rental business. We also built two cottages on our beach for family and for rentals.
After retiring from the health field at age 67, I was still busy with the rentals of the cottages and my Now and Then stories. I joined Ivan Wheale’s art class in Little Current and got back into painting. I am still in this class today. We also added to the original cottage we built in 1975 by adding a double garage with a primary bedroom on top and a basement underneath. The cottage had to be lifted with metal beams so we could turn our cottage into a home.
Bill and I also did some travelling to Mexico, Cuba, and later to both Canadian coasts with our motorhome. We enjoyed several cruises including one to Europe where we saw Switzerland, Germany, France, and the original site of the Olympics in Greece. We met ex-prime minister Jean Chretien in Mexico at a conference held by Bill’s company, London Life, and I was one of many who had their photo op with him.
Son Mike and his wife Dawn live in Little Current. They own an apartment building there and a grocery store in Manitowaning. Laura lives in Little Current with her daughter Morgan who will be attending a post-secondary art school in Toronto in September. Laura helps with the Timberlane Rustic Lodges bookings. Jennifer and her husband Mike live in Vancouver with their two daughters, Ginger and Portia. Jen’s husband Mike works in the lumber business, selling boxcar loads all over the world. Ryan and his wife Carla have two offspring, Ruby, who just graduated with Honours from Queens University and Will, who is in high school. They live near Barrie where Ryan works for Walker Industries. My brother Tom lives with his wife Carolyn on Prince Edward Island where they have a lovely home right on the water.
Last year, in June of 2024, we lost our youngest daughter, Rebecca. She and her boyfriend Sean had moved to Lillooet in British Columbia a few years ago. They did well at first but when Sean lost his job, he decided to get into the drug world and Rebecca joined him. Sean died in March of last year with a fentanyl overdose and we suspect Rebecca suffered the same fate. It is difficult to lose a child, especially in such a sad and difficult way. Rebecca had five children ranging in ages from their early 20s to five years for the youngest, Ember. Ember and her sister Bree are living in British Columbia with a cousin of Sean’s and they are doing well. The older three children Keenan, Lucia and Will are on their own in Vancouver.
Both Bill and I are still active. We still have our rentals on the Island. We love living on Lake Huron, watching the waves come in, watching the surfers, the gulls on the beach and the eagles flying overhead. We have cardinals, chickadees and nuthatches, juncos and pigeons at the feeder. When the sky is blue and the sun spreads warmth, it is a glorious feeling. We met some wonderful people on the Island and Manitoulin is our special place. We plan to stay here for all the time we are left.
I would like to thank all our readers for the last 22 years, starting this month in 2003. It has been an honour and a privilege to share the many stories of Manitouliners, all these years. Thanks again!
Note: this will be my last Now and Then story. I am retiring from writing this column this month. Thanks again for so many good years!
