ARTHUR ASTBURY
some recollections by his daughter Connie, Mrs. Buckley -1967

    My first vivid memory of my father occurred when we took a ride in a sleigh out to the edge of Russell, where my father and I met the farmers.  We were delivering their groceries.  This was the winter of the flu epidemic of World War I.   I knew that I was safe because our mother held sewed a piece of camphor in a little bag which was hung around my neck.

    My father Arthur Astbury, was a stern man, even to his children.   He was strict, reserved and he exacted a full day's work out of clerks and children alike.  Wasn't it natural that we should work for him, when he reminded us that all his young life he had worked as an apprentice in a store in England.  He often recounted those early days of service, as well as the work his father performed as a designer of pottery in Stoke-on-Trent! Stcaffordshire.

   What brought my father to Canada we cannot stay, but he came to Russell, where he worked for a storekeeper, and later bought the store from him.

    He married Florence More, an English girl from Gloucestershire who had come out to Canada at the age of seven.

    The store my father operated was general in the sense that it contained practically everything from crockery to harvesting supplies, and thrown in were Hobberlin tailoring, Billy Burke dresses and a full line of boots, shoes, rubbers and men's and women's wear, to say nothing of every conceivable kind of foodstuffs.

    Rich are the memories of great quantities of Ontario and British Columbia fruits in season, lining the aisles of the store, and water pails of Manitoba wild Strawberries and raspberries, covered with dewy rhubarb leaves, at a dollar a pail.

    Then there was spread to dry in the store attic seneca root, which the Indians brought and bartered for their supplies.  There were verbal agreements over pulpwood which then appeared in the lot below our house. This pulpwood afforded another joyous afternoon of watching while the sawyers transformed the lengths of poplar wood into future warmth for the store and our house.

    The store was both a chore and a source of pleasure to us as children.   There were the long conversations with clerks who came from as far away as Prince Edward Island or as near as the Russell High School.  We gained much in the way of education when we overheard conversations with farmers who told of the vagaries of land and weather, or caught a glimpse of the strength of character that brought the new Canadians to our country.

    From the moment the farmers and their families entered the state until they departed, there was always an clip of excitement, and a glimpse of another way of life.  Butter, vegetables and eggs were traded for the staple foods or clothing needed by the farmer.

    In winter, the change in the mode of transportation drawn up in front of the store went from cutters and sleighs to caravans with heaters and finally to the automobile.  This one difference alone made drastic changes in the merchandising in the general store.

    Sights and sounds enriched our life in the store, but perhaps scent enriched it most.  How can one forget the smell of fresh oiled floors, fresh ground coffee, plug tobacco being unpacked the smell of new shoe leather, or coal oil.

    My father believed in huge sales and consequently the store was often hung with dozens of articles of every kind. There were bright yellow tickets on everything and full page advertisements in the Banner.  These ads, according to my father, were enjoyed by his customers!

    Changes came. There was a time that there were three general stores in Russell, but after the Hill store burned down, business flourished for Smellie Brothels and Astbury's.  Then when Inglis was a beginning village, many farmers travelled the shorter distance to the new stores.  We recall that at that time, shoes sold for twenty-five cents a pair in order to unload the over bought stock.

    When the sands blew from the West during the so called dirty thirties, there were many merchants in Manitoba who went bankrupt.  How my father resented a man who was sent from the Retail Merchants Association to being the store out of the red.

    My father was a silent man about many things, bearing misfortune with the same steady manner.  Once we asked him about his parents in England. He final admitted that he had been supporting, them for many years.

    He loved his church.  We were made to attend twice a day on Sunday.  Both our parents sang in the church choir for years, with Enid and Connie joining reluctantly.  Later, we appreciated the excellent training under Mrs. Lucas and Mr. Cope.

    My mother took great pride in the fancy work she created.  We can recall the excitement at Fair Time, when we went to see many prizes she had won that year.   Her work with the W.A. of the Anglican church was another joy to held.  Her ability to play the piano was not great, but many a young Fish Lake resident learned to dance to her waltzes and foxtrots.

    A man in a small town is something more than a person in a large city.   When his store burned, my father learned of the many friends he had.  The store was soon rebuilt on a much smaller scale.

    When our mother died, father remarried. Maud Whitmore, who had lived in Russell many years as a milliner, became Mrs. Astbury.

    What of the rest of the family.  Audrey is now living in California in charge of a Bridal Shop, Enid worked for years as a buyer in Montreal. Connie is still teaching Kindergarten in London. Ronnie was in the United States for years, until he fulfilled our father's wish and returned home to learn the general store business. He was killed while returning from Winnipeg in an automobile accident.

   Ronnie's wife, Day, and son, Ronnie did not wish to continue carrying on the business, so they returned to the States. Ronnie junior is at present in Germany in the United States Air Force.  The store was sold, and continues to serve the people of Russell.

    What can one say of one's father?  We could tell of his warmth, his quiet humour, his philosophy his love of his Bible, his dedication to his business, his faith in the farmers, his simple life of store. garden and Church. But this is the story of many fathers, who have lived and died in this country of ours, each serving best in his own humble way.

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