Thursday, May 2, 2013

The Rogers Twins


Edna herself
 
My mother, Edna Vail, celebrated her 88th birthday on April 28th/2013.   Mother has had many trials and tribulations, as well as some serious illnesses, so it is even more rewarding that she is bright and cheery as she celebrates this day.  Or as Edna would say “I’m just peachy”!

 
 
 
Ena, Frank, Barney, Edna
 
Eighty eight years ago in the hamlet of Fielding, New Brunswick there was an event; twin girls were born to Nelson and Lottie Rogers.  They were named Edna Mary and Ena Marie.   The birth was notable as the Rogers had seven boys and one girl to welcome the babies. 





The twins were identical so at birth a pink ribbon was tied to the wrist of one and a blue for the other.  As Mama was on bed rest (and well deserved I am sure), Papa and brother Earle took charge of the twins.  In a day when many babies did not survive, these full term girls weighted a total of 15 lbs. and were destined to thrive.
 
I do not have many stories before they went to school, I am sure they were busy sisters.  I know they were christened the “twinzies” by their siblings.  Edna’s first memories were of them making mud pies.  It was a serious event, deserving neighbour children would be summoned, the mud procured and the pies formed.  The mud pies would be left to bake until the next day when the tea would be held. The twins would serve their guests the mud pies with cups of imaginary tea. Edna can still remember breaking off a piece of the pie and pretending to eat it. 

One pie making day was particularly sunny and the twins looked for a prime spot to bake their pies. Then their eyes feel on the lumber pile.  Papa had just added some brand new lumber; they laid their pies out on its pristine surace.  When their father came in for supper he inquired why they had dirtied up his new lumber.  “But they are fresh mud pies, they would not dirty anything”, was the Ena’s reply.  But they were told to clean off the pies and sweep the boards.

The mud pies were a factor in a near tragedy.  The best source for mud was from along the brook than ran by the main road.  Ena was the “harvester” and loaded up her implement then brought it to the waiting pie makers.  On one trip Ena was so engrossed in her play that she popped up from the brook and out and onto the road.  A big lumber truck was coming, the driver tried to stop but to no avail. The bumper hit Ena, she fell down, and the truck ran over her.  By the time the truck stopped Ena had been hit by the axle, (she was lying vertically between the wheels).  The driver, Harold McDougall from Bristol, gathered her up and took her to the house.  He told Mrs. Rogers to call the doctor. She informed the truck driver that they were not on the phone and they did not get Doctors; they believed in God for healing.  The truck driver responded that it was his responsibility and he would get the doctor; which he did. 

Ena, Mother Lottie,
Rodney and Edna 1932
 
The doctor examined six year old Ena and could find no visible breaks and only a few abrasions; however he diagnosed a concussion and put her on bed rest.  And in a few days they were back to normal.  Edna says the matching dresses they are wearing in this photo was one of the few times they ever dressed alike.  Their family was very poor and most garments were made from hand me down adult wear.
 





The twins were so alike that the school teacher could only tell them apart by their clothes and were they were seated.  Imagine their delight when at lunch time they scurried to the facilities and changed their dresses.  Each became the other!
The Sunday School teacher realized that Edna had a dimple which showed up if she smiled ; so the teacher would tickle the twins (which they hated).  Then Edna could be identified by her dimple.

The year’s sped by.  The first real difference was at the end of grade four; Edna passed into grade five but Ena was held back.  This did not dampen their spirits, they continued teasing their big brothers, helping with their little brothers Rodney and Sam, attending church and Sunday school and helping Mama.  Edna says the Ena was a better helper, a kinder person while she Edna was a whiner and complainer. Their brother Earle told me that the girls had two personalities and they traded them at will, just as they switched their dresses. 

Days rolled into weeks, weeks to months and months to years and the twinzies grew and flourished.  Then one day Ena became ill with flu like symptoms and went to Mama’s bed.  That night Edna slept alone for the first time in her life. The next day, in October 1935, Ena Marie Rogers drew her last breath: she was ten years old.  Edna has grieved for her twin these seventy eight years. 

 At the time neighbours felt Ena had died of a ruptured appendix.   Others said a knot in the bowel.  Or had she been damaged internally when the truck ran over her? There was no doctor, no autopsy.  Fifty years after the fact a local doctor, whose father had been the doctor who covered Fielding told me this.  “I will never forget the night the Roger's twin died. My father came home and held his head in his hands and cried like a baby.  He was so angry with the Rogers that their faith healing would deny medical help for their child.”

My Rogers grandparents died in the 1960’s.  After their death a neighbour shared this; Grampy was so distraught with the death that the night of the funeral he went to Ena’s grave and prayed for God to raise her.  He pleaded and reminded God that they had followed his faith healing edict; Grampy said, “ God you raised Lazarus, now raise our twin!”  The neighbour continued that Grampy prayed all night and as dawn broke he felt that God said, “I will raise her one day, but not right now”.

3 comments:

  1. I love reading your blog posts. :) I'm so glad that you've taken it up. Both these about our family history and about fashion. They make for interesting reads.

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  2. thanks Beck, as you know the only way to be a writer is, to write. And writers need readers. with the family pieces I am attempting to pass on some of our history in the tradition of the oral story tellers.

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  3. Love these writings of yours Valerie, guess I missed this the last time you posted it!!

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