Regional Storyteller

By Laurent d'Entremont



Abel d’Eon, who was born in the late 1890s, rose to a full five foot, one inch in height, and weighed a good 110 pounds ringing wet. What he lacked in size he more than made up for with nerves of steel.

If God ever entertained the notion of creating a man big enough to scare Abel d’Eon, there must have been a change of mind. Abel was fearless and it did not take much to spark his quick temper.

Being a great storyteller, Abel could spin a good yarn. Like many from his generation, he could remember the First World War, the Great Depression, wheat excursions to Alberta, rum-runners and so forth.

I had the pleasure to work with Abel and other workers one summer about 45 years ago building a large freezer at Haven Seafoods Limited in West Pubnico. As we ate our noontime lunch on the construction job, he was an entertaining storyteller.

Besides being diminutive, his dentures had worn more on one side than the other, and when he ate he looked like a beaver chewing on a maple sapling.

The wheat adventure out west had been about 1923 or so and his traveling companion was a man nicknamed ‘Cabin’ who was the total opposite of Abel. Cabin was a tall, husky guy with hands the size of snow shovels and Abel boasted, “Cabin was afraid of no man and I was not afraid of dogs, no matter how big they were.” Thus, they made a formidable team.

Before they left home, Abel’s mother had filled a large suitcase with sandwiches and when the train pulled into Calgary they ate the last one. He did not say how they could keep a suitcase full of sandwiches from spoiling for the long trip.

They found jobs in the wheat fields and one day the boss asked Abel to hitch up a team of frisky horses to the farm wagon and hayrack. He had never done this before, but being fearless he rose to the challenge.

There were fields that ran for miles in big sky country and our adventurer knew that if the horses bolted, they would tire out eventually.

With difficulty, he managed to hitch the team to the wagon. When he climbed on the driving seat, something spooked the horses. “I went arse over kettle,” Abel said, “and landed on the floor of the haywagon. The horses were at full gallop by now, and I could not get hold of the reins to stop them.”

Instead of heading for the open fields, the bolting team made a large circle and headed for the safety of the barn. This would have been fine, except for the fact they were trailing a haywagon when they went through the small door of the barn.

“You should have seen the splintering of wood, harness and wagon,” Abel recalled. But the horses were not injured. Being a carpenter by trade, he could fix the wagon and the doorjams. In any case, he was not fired.

All adventures were not in Alberta, though. When the service base at Deep Brook, Annapolis County was being built, Abel and others from Yarmouth and Digby counties found work there as carpenters. Lots of buildings were going up and there was plenty of work for those who had just survived the Depression.

One tradesman that worked there was a giant of a man; everybody gave him room and respected his wishes. This man had the habit of always sitting at the same place at lunchtime to eat his dinner. Somebody waged a bet that nobody would dare sit at his chosen place, although it was no more his than anybody else.

You can bet who took the bait! Abel was first at the table and daringly sat his full hundred pounds on the ‘royal’ seat. This was fine, until the “Deep Brooke Giant” showed up and spotted the intruder. He grabbed Abel by the straps of his overalls without batting an eye and sat him down at his rightful seat. Others have been talking about it ever since, but Abel never told that story.

It was projects like these service bases and working for the war effort that more or less put men back to work and helped to end the Depression.

For many Acadians who had worked only on the farm, this was the first time they were earning real wages.

These are not earth-shattering stories, yet stories that should be saved. Listening to these tales from people like my grandfather, Abel d’Eon and so many others who were born well over 100 years ago is likely what inspired me to become a storyteller, and I will always be grateful for that.