The Broket DNA Project — North American participants

I was born in Westminster on July 12, 1892 in a house located on 12th Street. I do not remember much about Westminster as we left when I was 4 years old.

Father worked in a monumental shop for Mr. Alex Hamilton who had a place on Pender Island.

Dad purchased 160 acres next to the Hamiltons at Browning Harbour. In the summer of 1896 a scow load of lumber was brought over. The lumber was used to build four houses. We stayed that year and finished the house. Dad went back to work. The houses were all located across the bay.

The Hamilton’s had five children, 4 girls and one boy, our family had seven children four boys and three girls. We all had to walk three miles to school. There were only four families on the island….

We had to row to Saturna island to get our mail at the Post Office. All our groceries were from Mayne Island or Sidney and the only way to get there was by a row boat.
When we first came to the island Japanese were cutting and burning alder to make charcoal, some of the original pits can still be found. Chinese cut firewood and mine props were loaded on ships. These props were used in the old country mines.

Some logging took place near Wallace point in the early days. As many as six oxen used at one time to move the logs to the salt water.

THE BRACKETTS
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My first memory of the Brackett Family was in New Westminster before the turn of the century, in the late 1890’s, that is. Mother took her four little girls to visit them in their house somewhere to the west on the hillside, overlooking Lulu Island and the Delta. (New Westminster was all Hillside, sloping up quite steeply from the Fraser River.) Mrs. Brackett had in her garden beds of lovely pansies, which we could hardly keep our hands off. Of course Mother must have restrained us in no uncertain terms. But trust Mrs. Brackett. How it rejoiced our hearts when she said: “Go ahead, children. Pick all you like.” Can you imagine our enthusiastic response? can you imagine how from that moment we all loved Mrs. Brackett? I only hope the pansy beds survived.That was some time before the Big New Westminster Fire of 1898, which swept over a large portion of the city leaving many people homeless, among the Bracketts and ourselves. We were all at Pender at the time with only the few summer clothes and other necessities that we had taken with us. Both families were forced to stay on the Island for the winter.
By that time we had Jim, our only brother, a tiny baby of several months. It was a terrible winter. The cold was intense, and the gales devastating. No wonder the little chap took sick and developed pneumonia. No doctor, no nurse, no telephone! Our poor Mother! But there was Mrs. Brackett, the resourceful little neighbour from across the bay. She braved wind and weather, struggled through the woods, round the head of the harbour to come with her experience and advice. I don’t know what they could do but she gave my Mother comfort and hope. The crisis passed and the baby survived.Mrs. Brackett was a real pal to us youngsters. (no one said “kids” in those days.) It was Cliff’s birthday, July 11th, and Mrs. Brackett had made a cake. But there was washing to do and little water in the well. There was however a good spring round at Pollard’s beach. So it had to be a picnic there for the Brackett boys and the Hamilton girls. Mrs. Brackett build a fire, heated water, did her wash, while we played happily for hours on the beach. Then it was lunch and the cake with lots of crunchy icing on top. What a jolly time! What happy children!Then there was an afternoon on our beach when Mrs. Brackett and Mother sat talking, watching us wading, supposedly only up to our knees. But someone had the idea of rolling logs into the water and riding on them. I am sure our Mothers didn’t realize what was happening, until we were wet, well above our knees. I think Mother would have been angry and packed us up to the house to get dried out, but Mrs. Brackett laughed and said, “Now they’re all wet anyway. Let them play!” Mother had to give in, with parental approval–for once in our young lives anyhow–fully clothed, we straddled our rolly logs with shrieks of pure delight.What a hospitable place the Brackett house was! Everyone seemed to gravitate to it and Mrs. Brackett welcomed us all. It wasn’t the new telephone, for the Bracketts gave house-room to the first telephone on Browning Harbour, nor was it a full cookie-jar, or a coffee pot permanently on the stove. It was genuine, unadulterated hospitality of the Brackett variety.For the Hamiltons, it was always a treat to “go round” to the Bracketts.Of course there was a magnificent swing, where two people could “pump up” to quite dizzy, dangerous heights–and there was The Bell! And this brings me to Mr. Brackett. What an ingenious man he must have been! Long before the advent of the telephone on the Island, the Bracketts had their own private communication system–the Brackett Bell. This was a gong, fashioned with a long piece of steel strung high up between two trees. A metal mallet with a long wooded handle–long enough to reach the ground–was used to strike the steel bar, making a great, resounding clang. One stroke was to summon Mr. Brackett away up in the field–time for lunch or whatever. Two clangs brought the Hamiltons out to the lower orchard gate to hear the message, shouted across the bay. Three strokes, I don’t remember, nor four and five, but everyone at the time was wise to those. On December 31st no one doubted that the New Year had come in when Mr. Brackett, usually an early-to-bed man, stayed up to hammer out twelve good strokes and true. Then I think he also fired off his gun.Did you know that there was an old road from Hope’s to Browning Harbour? It plunged into the woods where the cemetery gate now stands, and, avoiding every rock and tree, never came out until it reached the light of the Hamilton clearing (near the present gas station.) When Mr. Brackett became Road Foreman, all that was changed and we had a Long Stretch, straight as a die, down the section line, the Copeland Stretch to the old Linger Hill. Once more picking up the line, straight on across the valley and so to the Brackett and Hamilton Roads. It is wider today and blacktopped and it goes on and on to places far away but basically it is still Mr. Brackett’s road.Looking back I see in Mr. Brackett a real love for his horses, Jenny and Flora, a magnificent team. They answered to his every word. The Brackett wagon was neighborhood transportation–everyone aboard. Many a happy ride was offered to the Hamilton girls and eagerly accepted. Only once were we sad. That was when the news came of the death of Ross in the First World War. I still see Mr. Brackett, reins in hand, a bit stooped, as he drove us home from the wharf. No word was spoken, only the visible burden of a great and irreparabel loss.No vainglorious pride, but in very deed, the Bracketts had done their bit in the War to end all wars.
There is much more to tell of the friendship between the Brackett and Hamilton families, but I was asked to speak of Mr. and Mrs. Brackett only, so I must stop before you throw me out.One think I would like to add: God bless and prosper all the Brackett Clan! We need more people like them.M.W. Hamilton

Mr. J.A. Brackett married Miss Margaret Thatcher in the town of Dresden, Kent County, Ontario. When Rose, the eldest of their family, who was killed in World War I, was a baby, they came west and settled in New Westminster. The name “Brackett” goes back to the days of Upper and Lower Canada, Mr. Brackett ‘s great grandfather having been a resident of Upper Canada.

Two more sons were born in New Westminster. Then while the family was summering on Pender Island, whre Mr. Brackett had pre-empted land on the shores of Browning Harbour, the great New Westminster Fire of 1896 destroyed their possessions. Like the Hamilton family, whose possessions suffered a similar fate, they stayed on on the island, becoming permanent residents. The rest of the family – three girls and a boy – arrived later. The original house was built in 1896; this was added to as the family grew. (The house is now being demolished by the youngest son, Lyall, and a modern residence erected, 1961.)

For many years the island residents, particularly those in the Browning Harbour area, had their lives guided to a certain extent by Mr Brackett’s ingenuity. This took the form in the guise of a gong known as “Brackett’s Bell”. This gong consisted of an “T” [misprint for I?] beam about three feet long and 18 inches high. It was hung on chains between two fir trees in the front yard at a height of about 25 feet. An eight pound sledge was the striker. It was so rigged that a person standing on the ground could operate it by pulling on a long pole which was hinged to the hammer handle. The result was a not unmusical note which could be heard for some miles. Every day at noon Mrs. Brackett struck 12 strokes, calling the menfolk of the valley from the fields, or woods, or bay to their respective lunches. Other signals consisting of a certain number of strokes, called individual family members. There was also one signal calling the Hamilton family across the bay into shouted conversation. On the stroke of midnight, each December 31st, the bell rang in the new year which many lusty strokes, accompanied by gun shots; and, weather permitting, there were shouted new year’s greetings exchanged across the bay with the Hamiltons.

Mr. Brackett construct a wonderful swing between the two “bell trees”. This was greatly enjoyed, not only by the family, but by many neighbour youngsters. Also a high bar was rigged nearby. When these amusements palled there was “Dan”, the old white horse who spent his declining years around the yard, and did not seem to mind how many youngsters climbed aboard for a ride. There was an abundance of fruit in the nearby orchard. The prunes especially will long in the memories of those fortunate enough to have eaten them when they were dead ripe.

The Brackett’s water transportation was provided by a 18-foot, double-ended, Columbia River fishing boat. The boys learned the art of handling her under sail in the safe waters of the harbour. When Mr. Brackett was working at the Taylor quarry at Potato Bay on Saturna Island the boys rowed or sailed over many times to bring him home on weekends.

A very fine young team replaced “old Dan”. A Clydesdale mare named Flora, and a solid, sharp eared ?Pereberott named Jennie. Under Mr. Brackett’s guidance the team became wonderfully well trained, obedient animals. They did a great deal of work in the clearing of new fields, hauling logs from the woods, as well as the usual farm chores. They also provided power for the wheeled transportation, and on a few memorable occasions, when there was sufficient snow, pulled a great sled packed with straw, and loaded with family and neighbours, over the Island roads, to the accompaniment of sleigh bells and a suitable songs. No doubt these occasions, though few in number, brought back memories of their young days in Ontario to Mr and Mrs Brackett.