Aunt Jenny had a hospital bed for the women who came into her home to have their babies. She was not known by any title other than Aunt Jenny, yet she was a midwife, a community nurse, and a friend to all the people in the area. 

“It wasn’t a clinic or anything like that,” says Aunt Jenny’s granddaughter. “There was a bedroom set aside, that’s all. There were two parts to the house; it was a big house. Another aunt and uncle lived in one part.”

“In those days, a new mother was not to put a foot on the floor until the tenth day.” says Enid. “It was the sixth day when Aunt Jenny needed the hospital bed for another woman. So Uncle John picked me up and carried me to another bed. Young Allan was born when my son was six days old. We had a wonderful time, we two mums and Aunt Jenny. I remember it was a big wash for the two babies and all of us. Aunt Jenny and her daughter did it all; there were no automatic washers in those days. I recall the great big clothesline full with diapers, and I remember the wind coming up and whipping that line down. Aunt Jenny brought them in quick, and got them aired, so it was all right.”

Her granddaughter says “I don’t know how many babies she birthed. She didn’t leave any records that could be passed down. I know she worked with Dr. Carl Messanger, and with Dr. Kelly, and Dr. Devine from Kingston. In wintertime, the doctors knew which patients were going to deliver, and if they couldn’t get over the mountain, then Aunt Jenny delivered the baby by herself. The last one she delivered was my cousin, 48 or 49 years ago.” 

“We couldn’t have been treated better if we were family,” says Enid. “We were treated like royalty. Uncle John got up real early. He didn’t want the baby to be cold, so he’d put wood on stove. We had good meals, tasty; they grew at least some of their own food. I know they had an ox, maybe they had a pair. Aunt Jenny worked a good many long hard years. She never refused anyone. If she had to walk, or travel on snowshoes then she would. She was a wonderful person, and the instincts were born in her; no matter what was needed, she always helped out in some way.” 

“When she was paid, it came from the family of the patient. She wasn’t paid very much; not much at all. It seems to me that one time she spent a week somewhere, helping with the housework as well as all the nursing. She used the money they paid her to buy an aluminum turkey roaster.”

“My dad got pneumonia after he got wet and cold cutting a Christmas tree,” says Enid. “In the day time, Aunt Jenny was looking after a woman with phlebitis, but she would walk over to our house and keep the night vigil, so that mum could get her rest. She never seemed to get older; she always seemed the same. One day she went to lie down to rest, and she died. There was no particular sickness, her body was just worn out is all. My golly, it was a shock.”