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A Rare Find: Ethel Ayres Bullymore - Legend of an Epic Canadian Midwife
Copyright ©2013 Donna J. Mann
All rights reserved
Printed in Canada
International Standard Book Number: 978-1-927355-15-2
ISBN 978-1-927355-43-5 EPUB
Published by:
Castle Quay Books
Pickering, Ontario, L1W 1A5
Tel: (416) 573-3249
E-mail: [email protected]
Edited by Marina Hofman Willard and Lori MacKay
Cover design by Burst Impressions
Printed at Essence Publishing, Belleville, Ontario
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form without prior written permission of the publishers.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Mann, Donna J. (Donna Jean), 1939-, author
A rare find : Ethel Ayres Bullymore— legend of an epic Canadian
midwife / Donna Mann, Marina Hofman.
ISBN 978-1-927355-15-2 (pbk.) 1. Kemp, Ethel. 2. Midwives—Alberta—Biography. 3. Edgerton
(Alta.)—Biography. I. Hofman, Marina H., author II. Title.
RG950.K44M35 2013 618.20092 C2013-905454-5
Contents
Acknowledgements
PART I – 1910
1. June 1910, England – The Long Night
2. Doctor’s Orders
3. Looking Ahead
4. Grief in Goodbye
5. Watching Life Change
6. Settling In
7. One Step After Another
PART II – 1911
8. Firming Up Their New Life
9. Bittersweet
10. Time Moves On
PART III – 1917–1920
11. The People Find Ethel
12. Ethel: Prairie Nurse
13. Awakened to Need
14. Bad News–Good News
15. Picking Up the Pace
16. Perfect Timing
17. Slowing Down
18. Different-sized Gifts
19. The Town Gathers
20. Celebration in the Midst of Life
21. Ethel’s Surprise
22. Double Delights
23. Love Finds Its Own
PART IV – 1921
24. Elsie Comes Home
Acknowledgements
As always in a long work such as this historical novel, there are many people to remember who contributed through information, reading, editing and encouragement. Thank you to Ethel’s family who stood in vigil at different times over this writing: Gordon Bullymore, Debbie Sinclair-Lumme (Bullymore), Russell Umbach, Margo Umbach, Nikki Markwart, and Sandra Taylor. Thank you to friends of the Bullymore family, who wrote letters, sent pictures and placed phone calls. A special thanks to Eadie Buchanan, Mary Walker and Erica Bonner Cooper who opened many doors of memory.
In the early days of writing, during my visits to England and in prolonged research, my historian cousin, Robin Harris, guided me through many geographical locations. As well, Canadian and British archivists and researchers were very helpful. Early readers such as Bonnie Mallard, N.J. Lindquist, Karen Stiller, Bridget Forester, Maxine Hancock, Angelina Fast-Vlaar, Ruth and Tom Sproule, Rosemary Tanner, Pat Mestern, Ray and Anna Wiseman, and Wanda who, in the midst of her grief, sympathized with Ethel’s sorrow and celebration, assisted and encouraged me.
Thank you to those friends, especially the registered nurses, who defined and refined medical terms into everyday language: Marion Israel, Bette Speer, Rose Anne Kreps, Sharron Howse-Mann and Grace Ann Gibson.
I’m continually encouraged through The Word Writers, Word Weavers, The Word Guild and Write! Canada. Thank you to my husband, Doug, who probably read this manuscript a dozen times and still appreciated the story. A word of gratitude to Larry Willard (Castle Quay Books Canada) for believing in this story, always keeping in touch at the right moments, and finally saying, “Yes, we’ll publish this.” And to Marina Hofman Willard who coached the manuscript from labour pains through to birth.
Part I: 1910
1. June 1910, England – The Long Night
Brushing her fingers against the small envelope tucked inside her skirt pocket, Ethel Kemp remembered her sadness while preparing its content. She blinked the tears back, reflected on her morning prayers and straightened her shoulders. “We can do this.”
The large doors of Enfield Cottage Hospital felt extra heavy as she pushed them open. As a practical nurse, she especially liked floor duty, where bonding with new mothers and babies lasted long after she left the ward. And night shift, definitely her favourite time to work, opened a world of ongoing activity that defied darkness.
The familiar sounds of clinking metal pans, women’s laboured groans and the constant movement of busy nurses already provided a prelude to her night’s work. Strong-smelling disinfectant infused her senses, confirming that cleanliness was next to godliness—and both were welcome on this floor.
“It doesn’t seem to matter what you begin in life, ladies, the pain of letting go and the hope of new beginnings go hand in hand,” Ethel murmured as she walked toward the medical ward, familiar to her as Mum’s kitchen. Goodness, she’d experienced enough of both in her own life to know this personally!
Looking at the large wall clock as she entered the hospital change room, she grinned—Nurse Rankin was up to her old tricks, 10 minutes fast. Have to love that woman; she looks after us—one way or the other. Ethel tucked a curl under her cap, glad she’d taken time to pin her dark unruly hair tightly into a bun. With her starched apron covering her uniform, she gave a last-minute check to her gleaming white oxford shoes.
Nurse Rankin was particular about the appearance of her staff, boasting that their personal care and presentation to the public gave a clear message about her nurses. There was no room for anything less than absolute correctness, and Ethel felt privileged to work under her professional competence.
Even though she wished Nurse Rankin had a sense of humour to lessen the stress that regularly shrouded their work, she definitely offered a professional presence that greatly influenced Ethel: a calming authority in times of life and death situations. And last night, there was more death than life on this ward.
The room smelled fresh as Ethel filled the small sink with hot water. She added the disinfectant soap and then quickly finished the routine task of scrubbing her hands. As the green suds ran down the drain, she thought how quickly life could change with just one action.
She sat down a few minutes later at the nurses’ desk and greeted Nurse Rankin. While listening to report, Ethel learned that a sick baby and a new mother had kept the staff busy on the previous shift. Two women laboured now, one bleeding enough to keep the doctor and the other practical nurse by her bedside, while her family waited in the lobby.
The younger of the two