Margot Rita Kienle Tarajos

I don't quite believe it, I'm actually going to Pier 21, Halifax NS. Ever since I heard about the creation of this new historical site I've been on a mission.

You see its been some 46 1/2 years since I've been there. I was only 2 1/2 at the time so I don't remember too much. I came here with my family from Germany and want to tell you the story of our journey.

Most of my recollection comes from my mother. It's fascinating to listen to her stories.

On December 17, 1955 my family, which consisted of my father Alois Kienle born in Bobingen, 24, my mother Olga Kienle (nee Reichle) born in Untermeitingen, 23, and myself Margot Tarajos born in Swabmunchen, 2 1/2, left our tiny village in Germany for the adventure of our lives. Some neighbours were there to say farewell. Most of them thought we were out of our minds for making such a decision. I'm sure it wasn't easy for my parents to come to this conclusion but it was only a few short years after the war and work was scarce and Canada needed workers.

That afernoon we boarded the train in Klosterlefeld for Munich. In Munich we visited a clinic where we were immunized according to requirements by Immigration Canada.

Dec 21st, 1955, Cuxhaven, Germany where we boarded our ship the "M.S. Italia" Home Lines.

Our cabin was nicer than most, it had a porthole and was on a higher deck. This was probably due to the fact that my grandfather (on my mother's side) , who was already waiting for us in Canada, booked our trip through his Canadian travel agent.

Next stop was Le Havre, France. More passengers boarded the ship, mainly of Italian and French descent. The Italians had with them 'huge' bottles of vino.

The French also had their wine in baskets carried over their shoulders. It was quite a sight. Mother said she only saw wine bottles, no suitcases. Oh well-- first thing's first. The passengers were all very friendly and even though there was a language barrier at times, it all worked out. After all, we were 'all in the same boat'.

We all celebrated Christmas Eve together. When we got back to our cabin after supper there were presents waiting there for me. All the small children on board were given presents that night. How nice!

Next stop was Southampton, England, a few more passengers and supplies boarded the ship for the journey to Canada.

The trip across the Atlantic was not all that pleasant. After all, it was the beginning of winter and this was the Atlantic Ocean, known for its rough seas in winter. Most of the passengers suffered from sea-sickness due to the conditions. My mother recalls my father holding me over the railing on more than one occasion. He got sea-sick while looking in the mirror trying to shave. My mother was one of the few who escaped intact. Although she does recall coming out of the movie theatre and feeling somewhat dizzy- nothing a good stiff drink didn't cure.

The seas were very rough and we seemed to be going backwards more than forward. Those many days seemed like weeks. Our normal arrival time had been delayed. Then came the words: tonight we land in Halifax.

Tonight was a special night, it was New Year's Eve and we ate dinner in the main dining room and my parents had a drink with the captain before disembarking the ship.

It's kind of ironic that the table number we sat at was 31 and the street address we were going to was 31.

We passed through Pier 21, Canada Immigration, according to my stamped documents, December 31, 1955. My mother says it was very late at night. There were some nuns there who greeted us with warm friendly smiles and gave my mother three rosaries-- one for each of us -- and welcomed us to Canada. Better ambassadors this country could never have had. Mother still has those rosaries.

Mother does not recall all that much about Pier 21 itself. Too much excitement for one day.

Next we boarded the train which would take us to Scarborough, Ontario. Our documentation was stamped 'Canadian National Railways' January 1, 1956. New Year's Eve had come and gone.

It was very very cold and my father thought that if they don't turn on the heat we will freeze for sure. The train started up and went a couple of miles out of town, stopped again, and at last the heat was turned on. We settled in for our first night in Canada.

The next morning, we started on our way. I don't think my parents realized how big Canada was. Travelling two days plus and still being in the same country!

My dad asked the conductor for a beer and he answered: "There is no beer in Canada." No Beer!

My dad tried to buy us some food; remember he spoke no English, not even a little bit. He came back with white bread and spam. How funny when you think about it now. The white bread we named 'bubble gum' bread and we still call it that today. You see they were used to rye bread and cold cuts. On a positive note, father liked the spam, although he was the only one that did!

I would go from seat to seat reciting 'Little Red Riding Hood' in German to anyone who would listen. I would tell everyone that I was going to my grandparents in Canada. My parents tried to explain that I was already in Canada but I didn't understand.

One stop we made was in Quebec City, mountains of snow and your nose froze together. That's how bitter cold it was. It got cold in Germany in the winter as well but nothing like this.

Mother was fascinated by the houses with their metal fire escapes on the outside of the buildings and also the mail boxes on posts on the roadside.

Finally we reached Toronto Union Station. My grandfather was waiting for us with a car he borrowed from a good friend. We had a joyful reunion and now we were on our way to our first home in Canada.

First, though, we made a stop on Danforth Road, a European deli, with rye bread and lots of cold cuts. Life is good! When we got to the house on 31 Commonwealth Avenue in Scarborough we had a welcome party. There was a bathtub full of ice and beer. I never saw my dad smile like that. They did have beer in Canada and they even delivered it to your door.

We lived upstairs and my grandparents and uncles lived downstairs. The job father was supposed to have on his arrival did not materialize. Mother, however, found a job the first week. She started as a shirt presser for Golden Mile Cleaners for 14.00/week. Her boss was so impressed with her work he gave her a 3.00/week raise the very next pay. She says it was enough to keep us going for a while.

Golden Mile Cleaners was situated in the Golden Mile Plaza; the first strip plaza in the area.

Father was a master carpenter by trade and did also find work shortly thereafter.

I remember him buying three rooms of furniture from 'Bad Boys' for a dollar down a week.

Thanks to mother, who kept speaking German to me, I am still able to speak, write, and read German to a point where I could get by. Father wanted me to speak English to him so he could learn the language better. Since children pick up a new language easily I was the first one speaking English in our household.

Our first car was a VW bug and most weekends we would travel to Niagara Falls. It's still a favourite place of mine.

We watched Ed Sullivan and Bonanza together every Sunday night. And of course Hockey Night in Canada.

As soon as it was possible, my parents applied for Canadian citizenship. I can remember helping mother study for the test. She was somewhat nervous but all went well and the three of us became Canadian Citizens at the same time.

My parents eventually settled in Roseneath, Ontario (Home of the Carousel).

My father was a manager of a construction company for some 33 years. He mastered the English language. He truly loved this country and I must say never looked back. Canada was home for his family and he was proud of it. He died October 10th, 1987 and is still sadly missed.

My mother continued working until she was 65. She has since remarried, to an English gentleman, John Hornsby, and is still living in Roseneath.

I married Terry John Tarajos on October 7th, 1972.

10 years later we moved into an A frame built by my father, which is close to my parents in Roseneath. We still live there today.

I work as a Business Analyst and have been working for the same company for some 18 years now.

Imagine you are young, you have a small child, you don't speak, read, or write the language, you have very little money and you leave most of your possessions behind to come to a new country and start a new life!

This story is dedicated to my parents, who had the courage and insight to do just that. Without them I would not be able to proudly say to you today "I AM CANADIAN."

Also to my husband Terry, who is accompanying me on my journey back to Pier 21, more for the lobster I think, but without 'whom I am not whole.'

Margot (Kienle) Tarajos