Oliver Jones. Marthe Sansregret
to stay in style!
Quick-witted and practical, Jestina immediately saw great opportunities for a seamstress in this situation. But she forced herself to face reality: her immigration papers had assigned her the professional category of “domestic.” She would have to work as a servant in the homes of Saint-Henri.
***
During her leisure time, Jestina observed the atmosphere of freedom, frivolity, and permissiveness that reigned in Montreal in the latter half of the 1920s. When the weather got warmer, in bars as well as on the street, women hitched up the hems of their skirts. Their emancipation was expressed by dancing to ragtime music. In the nightclubs, alcohol flowed copiously, while in the United States, Prohibition had been in force since 1919. People were crazy for the jazz and blues that were played in the clubs until three or four o’clock every morning.
But Jestina wasn’t fond of this type of pastime. When she finished work, she would visit one of the three institutions in the neighbourhood where coloured people (as Black people were called in those days) liked to get together. There was the Union United Church, which had been there since 1907, the Universal Negro Improvement Association, founded twelve years later, and lastly, a place that she appreciated very much: the Negro Community Centre, which had just opened its doors and where young people could socialize.
It was at the Community Centre that Jestina Louise Burrowes renewed her acquaintance with Oliver Wesley Jones, whom she had met in St. George years earlier. He held a steady job at the Angus Shops and now felt ready for marriage. Like Jestina, he had a penchant for art and music. He no longer plucked the guitar, but he did sing and play the piano. Jestina, for reasons best known to herself, chose not to reveal her singing talent; she preferred to spend her free time cooking, sewing, and home decorating.
Oliver Wesley and Jestina Louise did not discuss their common background as the descendants of captive Africans forced to labour on the plantations of Barbados. Like most members of the Black community, instead of brooding over the past, they tended to look towards the future. And Jestina Louise, now 29 years old, knew with whom she wanted to share that future. So did Oliver Wesley.
On October 15, 1927, their marriage rites were performed with a touch of Caribbean tradition at Union United Church by the Reverend Charles H. Este, a minister born in Antigua. The newlyweds then emerged from the church as Mr. and Mrs. Jones.
The couple took up residence in Verdun, where life was uneventful until the birth of their first child, Lillian, at the Royal Victoria Hospital. Jestina stayed at home for a while to take care of their infant daughter. Then, to make ends meet, she did part-time domestic work nearby, taking Lillian with her to her workplace.
Two years later, Lillian had a sister, Violet. The apartment being too small to hold four people, the family moved to a larger place on Coursol Street in Little Burgundy. Two years after Violet’s birth, the Joneses had a son whom they christened Frederick.
On September 11, 1934, Mr. and Mrs. Jones awaited the imminent arrival of their fourth child.
CHAPTER II Born with the Beat 1934–1940
Oliver Jones came into the world at the Royal Victoria, the same hospital where his sisters and brother had been born. Even though he seemed rather undersized, luckily, he was a healthy baby.
In the Jones’s religious tradition, a newborn girl would have two godmothers and one godfather. For a boy, it was the other way around. During a christening ceremony at Union United Church, Oliver was given his father’s first name, followed by the rather impressive middle name of Theophilus.
Despite the fact of having two Olivers at home, sometimes there was no doubt which one Mrs. Jones was referring to. For instance, on Friday nights, if her husband became too voluble after having an extra beer, she’d briskly tell him: “Wesley, behave!”
The family, now with four children, moved to the second floor of a house on Workman Street. In the place of honour was their Layton Brothers piano, bought at the store of the same name; to Mr. Jones, a home was incomplete without music. It was by listening to his father play hymns on the piano that Oliver developed his musical sensitivity.
There was plenty of music in the neighbourhood. At night, especially when the weather was mild, Oliver would hear different tunes and rhythms – European, Caribbean, ragtime – wafting through the air. But what really caught his ear was American jazz and blues. Without Oliver really being aware of it, his imagination was infiltrated by the music of the cotton fields of Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi, which had spread from town to town up to Chicago and Detroit.
To Oliver’s delight, this music had come to stay, due to an influx of American musicians, many of them Black, who, even though Prohibition in the United States had ended in 1933, were still moving north in search of work. Montreal was known as an open city. It was easier for them to earn a living there, since nightclubs and bars sold liquor freely.
Saint-Henri and Little Burgundy boasted a host of talented musicians who enriched their repertoire by listening to new pieces they heard on American radio stations, and then playing them in the bars and clubs.
In spite of this lively atmosphere, the consequences of the Great Depression lingered. Many heads of families in the neighbourhood lost their jobs while others wondered how long they would continue to receive their paycheques.
The tension was palpable. Fear and anxiety had also affected the Jones family. One morning, when a man came to the house to tell Jestina that her husband had been temporarily laid off, she panicked and cried that Oliver Wesley had been fired. When young Violet repeated this to Oliver, Oliver thought his father had been shot!
Fortunately, Oliver Wesley soon went back to his job, safe and sound, while Jestina continued her routine as a home-maker. Oliver liked to watch his mother make clothes from material supposed to last forever, and press them with a clumsy iron that had to be heated up on the stove. House-cleaning was a heavy burden, since, like the majority of households, the Joneses did not have hot tap water. On top of that, twice a week, the iceman would walk through the apartment with a gigantic dripping block of ice, leaving tracks from his dirty boots on his way.
Giving his full attention to his own business, Oliver played with his mother’s pots and pans. He beat and banged on them energetically with wooden and metal spoons, arching his little back. Jestina wondered how to distract her infant drummer boy who would use almost everything in the kitchen – cans, the metal washing pail, and even the radiator – to get as many different sounds as possible from his drum set. One day, she had a flash. She tied him into his high chair with a dish towel and placed him in front of the piano.
At first, baby Oliver touched the keys gently, one by one, then started punching them enthusiastically, pumping his arms up and down. Soon, his little fingers were running up and down the keyboard and for sure, the thrill was there. It didn’t take long for Oliver to adopt the piano as his companion, his friend.
But one day, the atmosphere in the house changed radically. Frederick was seriously ill with a high fever. At the hospital, he was diagnosed with spinal meningitis and died the following day. Oliver knew nothing of the meaning of death. He was only two years old.
Oliver’s cousin, Wrenfred Bryant, ten years his senior, became a big brother to him. Many years later, he said: “I don’t think Oliver ever saw the fact that he was the only boy in the family after Frederick died.” During one of his cousin’s visits, after listening to “God Save The King” on the radio, Oliver ran to play it on the piano. Wrenfred often evoked this memory. “I remember seeing Oliver at three years old, already playing the piano. He had a God-given talent, but I never thought he would become such a notable and honoured musician.”
Not long after Frederick’s tragic departure, Oliver had a baby sister: Shirley.
In the midst of this lively family, Oliver remained fixated on the piano. When Oliver Wesley came home from work, Oliver would yell, scream, and tug on his father’s pants until he would sit the little boy on his knees and let him play. When the “concert” was over, Oliver would watch his