It is my sad duty to report the passing of Yvon Leblanc, a former long-time resident of Dunvegan. I just this moment learned of Yvon’s death, so some of the following facts and figures may be a bit off base, my memory being what it is. Nevertheless, I wanted to acknowledge this gentle soul and express my sincere condolences to his family.
Yvon, Lise and their young family moved to Dunvegan from Valleyfield, Quebec in the early 1970s. And, unlike today, these newcomers badly wanted to become part of the community. (We actually had one back then.) They purchased the general store on the northeast corner of the crossroads and promptly set up shop selling groceries, sundries and Supertest gasoline. Years after the pumps and tanks had been removed, the empty Supertest signpost beside Robert Campbell’s lot reminded us of a more convenient time. Yvon was also a professional barber and did a brisk trade from his one-chair shop in Dunvegan, on the days it was open. I still remember taking our infant son to the crossroads shop for his first hair cut. As well, Yvon owned and operated the diminutive barbershop in Maxville that was razed when the new Home Hardware was built. Its destruction still irks me; it would have been so simple to preserve this wee piece of history.
In addition to being a shopkeeper and a barber, Yvon was an expert trapper and, based on the “mounts” he proudly displayed in his Dunvegan shop, and a fairly proficient taxidermist as well.
Last, but not least, in his spare time, Yvon was a member of the Glengarry Old Time Fiddlers. Founded in 1966 in Maxville, the purpose of the organization was to promote and preserve old time fiddle music and its related arts. Yvon loved every minute he played with them.
Even though Yvon and Lise moved to the Greenfield area once their family was grown, they will always be Dunveganites in my heart. Yvon, you will be missed and I hope once this virus lockdown is done, we can have a celebration of your life.
A cheesier way of life
In days of yore, cheese factories in these parts were almost as ubiquitous as Tim Horton’s. Maybe more so. In this region alone, there were production facilities in Baltic’s Corners, Fiske’s Corners, Skye, Athol and, of course, Dunvegan. In the days before on-farm refrigeration and reefer tank transports, the cheese factory was how producers dealt with surplus milk during the flush of oversupply during spring and summer.
While Rosemary Rutley in her Of Curds and Whey (Old Crone Publishing 2005) admirably covered this topic from a regional perspective, I thought we could take a few moments to focus on the history of cheese making in Dunvegan by following a first-hand account written in 1942, once again anonymously, in the Tweedsmuir Village Histories. Unlike theTweedsmuir Histories produced by the Dunvegan Women’s Institute in the 1970s, this earlier version was handwritten, rather than typewritten. The two-page story, entitled ‘Our cheese factory,’ was written in cursive on three-hole ruled paper, now sepia-toned after almost 80 years of preserving these words…
“Farming being the chief industry here, we are naturally interested in our cheese factory. The factory was built over 60 years ago by Capt. Duncan MacLeod. One part of the building was the old log house from his father’s farm (his father having built a brick house). The other portion was a building Alex MacCrimmon had built on the south end of his father’s (Duncan MacCrimmon) farm just west of the village. The factory is built on the bank of the creek.
Duncan, the Captain, manufactured cheese here for a few years. Having decided to go to the Eastern Townships, he sold his business to W.D. MacLeod (Billy D). Later, we had William MacRae in possession of the factory. Both butter and cheese were made during this time. Then Norman MacRae, who apprenticed under ‘Billy D’, owned and operated the factory for forty years. In 1940, he sold to Dan Ross, one of our own boys. As an assistant, he employed Clifford Austin. In 1941, in order to help make the quota of cheese for Britain, the factory was in operation until January 16. For 1942, it opened for the season on March 23, on which day he made five cheeses with W.D. (Little Willie) McLeod bringing in 1500 pounds of milk.
This factory has from time to time been renovated inside and out, keeping it up to required specifications. The outside is covered with tin thereby adding to its appearance. Soon we expect Dan will be pressing button help lighten his labors. The factory was wired in fall of 46.”
And so ended the main entry. I suspect the concluding sentence above describes electricity being installed in the cheese factory, which tells us that rural electrification hit Dunvegan in 1946. And, no doubt, the button Dan pressed was a switch that powered new labour-saving machinery.
There were two brief addendums to the main article, both written by a different hand.
The first reads, “Dan Ross passed to the great beyond in May 1949, and now the factory is run by the cooperative system.” The second reads, “1957 – this is the first time the factory has not been operating since it was established. Milk is taken by truck, some to Gravel Hill, to St. Isidore, to Vankleek Hill and to Cornwall… while a truck from Casselman collects cream and another takes cream to Alexandria. A truck also takes milk to Alexandria to the Carnation plant.”
So, after 78 years, the era of commercial cheese making in Dunvegan drew to a close. And there is virtually nothing to mark its former location at the south end of the Dunvegan Soccer field… aside from the narrow laneway that runs between the Church hall and the manse. This tree-shaded path that players and their families now use to get to the soccer pitches, was the Tim Horton’s of its day at the cheese factory’s zenith. As they waited for their turn to unload their horse-drawn wagons of milk cans, farmers caught up with friends and neighbours waiting in line with them.
The power of “Yes”
Looks like I messed up again… this time by being too egalitarian. In last week’s item on online services, I reported that Kim Little, Tori St. Denis and Reverend Jim Ferrier had come up with a plan to record worship services – including music, scripture readings, prayers and a sermon – and post them online. However, as Reverend Jim pointed out to me, this may have given readers the erroneous impression that he had an equal hand in bringing this innovative ministry to fruition. He freely admits that, in actual fact, his only contribution was to say “Yes.” His contends that Kim Little and Tori St. Denis deserve all the credit, and that until Kim called and floated the suggestion, it had never crossed his mind.
While I can see his point and agree credit should be given where credit is due, increasingly these days the default response to innovative ideas is a resounding “no.” Far too many administrators and others in a position of authority are fearful of going out on a limb. At the very least, I think Reverend Jim deserves a tip of the Titley for recognizing a good idea and providing the support needed to pull it off.
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