Very young in life, I unfortunately contracted polio. As a result I was required to be tied down in bed or sitting in a chair so as not to put any strain on my leg.

My grandfather, Mattie Ferguson, and my uncle, Danny Ferguson, would come from the store frequently and bring me balls of string to unravel to keep me occupied, and fruit to eat.

One particular day, Uncle Danny came from the store with some grapes for me. As I eagerly devoured them, he asked me, “Doesn’t your mother ever peel those for you?”
From that point on, I always asked my mother for grapes that were peeled, and she was ready to choke her brother-in-law. As if having three young boys wasn’t enough, now she had to peel grapes!

A couple of years ago [in 2004], Inverness celebrated its Centennial. Eric Ferguson was amongst those “from away” who joined a family group for that pilgrimage, his first trip to Cape Breton. Other than his grandparents, his father’s siblings, and some of their families, he had not met many of the Fergusons.

At the Centennial dinner the family attended that week, one of the cousins decided to take a family picture. My wife and Eric decided to get something to drink before joining the group for the picture.

They were standing in line waiting their turn to be served when Eric glanced back and commented, “Sure are a lot of people for that picture.”

After a few minutes he checked again and said, “Wow, they’re still coming.

They were served their drinks and turned back toward the family group. By this time, a large number of people were being posed.

Eric said to my wife, “Are all those people related to me?”

My wife replied, “Absolutely!”

“Holy —-,” Eric said. “I”m sure glad I don’t have to buy them all Christmas presents!“

February 13, 2006

When my grandfather, “Jack D”, was visiting our home in Detroit, Michigan one particular time, he was sitting in a chair reading the newspaper. He wore a hearing aid, which in those days entailed a little box that men put in their shirt pockets.

This particular day, my brothers David and Art and I were playing on the floor in front of him. We ranged in age, at that time, from about 7-2 year. I guess we were making a lot of noise. Not changing his expression at all, my grandfather peered around the paper, looked at us, reached in his pocket, shut off the unit and continued reading.

Never said a word or gave us a disdainful look. Just went on with his reading.