In memory Dave McDonald September 8th 1943-July 22nd 2004

In memory

Dave McDonald

September 8th 1943-July 22nd 2004

Dad,

Five years, it’s been five years since we last saw you. It hasn’t seemed that long, but there’s a reason for that. You’re talked about, and thought about on the daily basis. You were one of a kind, and the memories that you left behind are etched in our minds forever. Who can forget the time you were walking up the icy driveway all proud of yourself. You had gone and retrieved a portable light from your car because the power had gone out. The light was on and you were smiling away when whoosh, you’re on your back with the light high in the air so it wouldn’t break. It didn’t break and we were able to finish the job of laying linoleum down. Probably the only crazy bunch who would attempt to lay down flooring in the middle of a snow/ice storm with a 40 candle power light as our only way of seeing what we were doing. Or the time during a wet haying season we got the wagon stuck full of hay. After several attempts of pushing and pulling on the wagon you jumped on the 3000 and said, “Look out!!” You wound up the RPM’s on that diesel as high as she could go, and let up the clutch. Until that point, I had never seen (or seen since) a tractor dance like that!! The front end of the 3000 was straight in the air. When it came down it pulled the load of hay out of the hole and you continued out of the field. When you got off the tractor you said, “Nobody better EVER try that stunt!!” Trust me, nobody has. You had an uncanny knack of taking machinery to its limits (and beyond, way beyond!!!!).

Speaking of machinery, since your departure we have sold one of the tractors (Adrian did it!!). Don’t be too upset with us, instead of letting it sit and rust away we sold it to someone who would restore it and take care of it. However there is a new tractor that is of course blue with a front end loader now in the family (Adrian bought it, so you can forgive him). As for the mighty 3000, it’s still here and running strong. Uncle Sonny as per usual is assisting us in keeping it operating in tip top condition. As we work on equipment such as the 3000, lawnmowers or bush hog, stories about you always come up. It’s always a good time when a work bee is going on.

You’d be proud of how the family has stuck together. We are there for each other, and mom knows anytime, anytime that she needs something all she has to do is call and one of is there. It’s unfortunate that you missed one of your grandchildren. Little Molly was born June 23rd 2007. Molly will hear plenty of stories about her Tota Man and how he was definitely one of a kind. Also, she has the privilege of reading some of your stories. We consider it a priceless find when one day we came across your original writings. They will be treasured forever. As for the rest of your grandchildren (Rayna, TJ, David, Mose, Dale and Hunter) they are growing up nicely. The second generation after you will do a nice job carrying on the family traditions.

As life goes, since you left us you’ve been joined by family and friends. You have two nephews that joined you way too soon. Your sisters-in-laws Judy, Barb, Phyllis, and brother-in-law Morris have also joined you. When Morris left us to begin his journey to join you, the family was saying their last words to him. When it was my turn I leaned down to him and said, “You will be missed, please say hello to my father when you see him. And be prepared to fix or weld something for him!!” I figured by now you have done something silly that would require a good welder!!

Most people don’t like talking about their own mortality, but when we do think about it it’s comforting to know that when it’s our time we will have people like you and everyone mentioned waiting to greet us. When we’re standing at the gates, we’ll listen for the laughter and follow it. We know that’s where you’ll be.

Until then, we will continue to tell your stories and jokes and take care of the farm. Continue to watch over us, and continue to have fun. We love you, and will forever miss you. UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!!

From the family of Dave McDonald

He’s missed but not forgotten

In memory of David McDonald we reprint one of his original “Life on the Farm” columns below.

Life On The Farm

David A. McDonald

Our Mohawk Indian Community has always been a place of never ending changes, especially in our economic structure.

Better than fifty years ago, almost every family on the reserve, both on the American and Canadian side, fed their families from gardens meticulously cared for, a few cows, or two pigs and a small flock of chickens. It was a proud family that canned vegetables such as corn, beans, carrots as well as strawberries, blueberries, blackberries and for those a bit more fortunate (in other words, those able to spare a few dollars to purchase items by the bushel) countless jars of peaches, pears and applesauce were lined up row after row in the root cellars.

The early years of our proud community saw many, many years of living without electricity or running water. One must remember, back then, no one missed such luxuries since no one ever had it to begin with! Most areas of the community finally saw electricity come to the reserve in the early 50’s.

Transportation in the 20’s and 30’s was provided mainly by horse drawn buggies, cutters, double sleighs and iron-wheeled wagons.

Unlike today with each household having at least two TV’s, or more, back in my Dad’s youth, if you wanted entertainment you either had friends come visit you or you went to visit them…walking! It was one of my father’s visits to a distant neighbor that my father, this time really saw a ghost!!

My father and his brother Louie had walked cross-lots to eventually end up in State Road to visit some friends. It was a very, very dark night when they finally decided to head home. As my Dad describes the kind of eerie night it was, one could definitely understand how it led to my father and Uncle’s scary encounter.

As they walked cross-lots returning to their home, it was necessary to go through a stand of woods. As I mentioned, it was one of those super dark nights where not a breeze was blowing anywhere and the night air seemed to amplify the slightest sounds to a much louder and ominous level. To really add to the mood, the family they were visiting had brought the conversation around to telling real scary ghost stories that had a very chilling effect on my Dad and his brother Louie. A person has to listen to only one good session of story telling with our older folks of Akwesasne to fully appreciate the gift they possess as story tellers with very convincing tales of “strange” happenings that have occurred on our Reserve. It, with all due respects, can be a real strange experience with what you hear, I will guarantee you!

Anyway, my Dad and Louie made it almost home with no incidents to speak of but with many a nervous reaction as the night sent forth ominous sounds of eerie origins. To help calm their nerves they kept talking to each other as they walked, reassuring one another who the other person was walking beside them.

My Father finally asked Louie “what would do if you saw a ghost?” Louie hesitantly answered “Well, I really don’t know, maybe I would just run as fast as I could!” My Father said to Louie “Well maybe we’d better hold hands so that we’ll at least know we’re still together but you know if I saw a ghost I think I’d try to hit as hard as I could to maybe scare it away!”

As my Dad tells it, they really didn’t hold hands but they sure kept close to each other as they got closer to home…then it happened.

My father says as they got within a hundred feet of their home, he saw a faint white apparition floating at eye-level just barely visible in the very dark night. My Dad says the white apparition was about two feet tall and about six inches wide as it slowly moved lightly in front of him…he froze just for a brief moment before he seemed automatically to wind up and let go a tremendous punch towards the ghostly object…his big rugged fist smashed hard against the ghost. The instant his fist connected with the ghost’s soft unsuspecting nose, he heard his father’s voice coming from the dark night hollering “Whoa! Whoa!”

The ghost was my grandfather’s well trained horse connected to a buggy that stood obediently still never suspecting some scary-eyed youngster was going to approach him and smack him in the mouth! What my father had seen as a “floating white ghost” was really the horse’s white face slowly moving as the horse stood patiently waiting for his master to say “giddy-up!”

My grandfather had positioned himself between the buggy wheels quietly conversing with his friend. My father maintains to this day that he never told his father it was him who caused the horse to abruptly back up causing the buggy wheel to run over his father’s foot plus almost getting stepped on by a badly frightened and bewildered horse!! After hearing his father’s voice, he, with much relief, circled around the commotion caused by the frightened horse and along with Louie snuck the back way to get in the house.