Photograph: Doreen and Garnie Ziebarth, pictured on their wedding day in 1963, will be honoured as Pakenham pioneers Friday, Jan. 25, 2019 during a special Pakenham Frost Festival ceremony at the Stewart Community Centre.
I interrupted my routine tricycle ride this brilliantly sunny morning to play the piano at Fairview Manor. It is frankly a depuration for me. From the several kind comments I heard from others (primarily nursing staff), the impromptu performance was welcome. The staging however reminds me that my talent is painfully limited though well intended. Afterwards I chatted with a senior administrative assistant, Cindy, whom I have never met before. She is a local girl from the Pakenham area, a member of the well known Ziebarth clan (and her mother was a Symington, a family name of equal renown). I explained to her that having been a lawyer in the area since 1976 I was familiar with the names. It was the start of an enormously entertaining confab for the next half hour or more. We began by mentioning Duncan Abbott (former acclaimed Pakenham lawyer) and his wife Evelyn Wheeler (who coincidentally was our lawyer upon my retirement).
Cindy left work at Nortel 19 years ago after having her third child (all boys) whom she felt she could no longer properly raise if she continued working at Nortel and having to fly constantly in the performance of her job. By coincidence a friend asked Cindy if she could join the staff at the Almonte General Hospital because a position had lately arisen when a person had suddenly quit. Cindy (though confessing ignorance of hospital administration) started that weekend upon the insistence of her friend.
In my rambling conversation with Cindy it soon became apparent that she cares for the men in her immediate orbit. Her first born Isaiah (who is now about 23 years old) early disclosed his not uncommon country urge for acreage. When they discovered a 5-acre parcel on which stood an ancient cottage constructed in 1867, Isaiah wasn’t long saving a significant downpayment for the half-million dollar property. But his savings and income were then insufficient to qualify for the preferred loan. So of course the parents stepped in. But the parents followed their support by telling their other two boys that they (the parents) were unable to follow the identical path with them. In the end however the brothers reached an agreement among themselves whereby they would all live together in the cottage while contributing to the cause. I knew instinctively that the boys had perhaps unwittingly combined the spiritual advantage of family with the negotiated value of contribution. For someone such as I who once thrived upon undisguised compromise with institutional and parental lenders, I could see no indignity whatsoever in the reciprocal scheme. Indeed I admired them hugely for their deliberation and ambition, traits which I have no doubt whatsoever signify a scintillating descriptive future. By contrast I advised Cindy I didn’t have my first car (a gift from my father) until I was 28 years old when attending Osgoode Hall. She wanted to know what kind of car; I told her it was a 4-on-the-floor Mustang. She seemed pleased.
From this commendable start in our dialogue, Cindy then addressed her father’s contrariety at having to part with his herd of cattle. We both simultaneously acknowledged that farmers never retire, that they still ride a tractor at 80 years of age and do manual labour. Nonetheless when an Amish cattle trader from Pennsylvania got wind of the prospect of dispersal, he moved the entire herd off the Pakenham farm (which I am guessing was either 100 or 200 acres) to join a prize herd in Pennsylvania. I think it was at about this point in our aimless discussion that I interjected to assert that the veins of Cindy’s lineage run deep and profitably, like seams of pure gold. To me, after almost half a century of living as a country lawyer in a rural environment, this young lady was of bespoke pedigree. It also serendipitously amused me to hear her account of a family connection with silver fox ranching (as my paternal grandfather in New Brunswick had done). And then there was the element of musical entertainment. We concluded we are related.
Doreen, too, was raised on a farm but it was not one with Holsteins. Doreen was born in 1942 in Almonte. Her parents, Annie and Milton Symington, raised foxes, mink and horses along with their six kids (Allan, Helen, Kathleen, Doreen, Eileen and Ronnie). Their farm was unique, but also unique was the family band that the Symingtons had. With her dad playing fiddle and drums, Doreen’s aunts and uncles played piano, banjo, guitar and sang.
Doreen was 10 when her family moved to Arnprior. Her dad opened a Massey Harris dealership in Arnprior and included custom cropping with his farm equipment sales and service. Doreen’s mom kept everything running smoothly at home, especially when dad was away playing in the band. They took in many shows and Milton was one of the first members of the Renfrew County Fiddlers Association. Doreen was on stage from an early age and, being surrounded by music, it led to her stepping out on her own. Step dancing, that is! She played guitar, and being a southpaw, turned her guitars upside down … and then restrung them. She also enjoyed teaching groups of small children how to step dance.
As a teen, she first worked at Walkers department store and then went onto the Kenwood, where miles of beautiful Kenwood blankets were made. She also found time to take in many hockey games, watching #17 from the stands. But it was at the baseball field that Garnie made a promise. In 1963 Doreen and Garnie married and moved to the farm in Pakenham. In 1967 they began their dairy herd, producing many award-winning Holsteins. Beef and cash crop were also part of the farm. As was their children Greg and Cindy.