Way of Seer~18 Prince Street Charlottetown, PEI
My mother (Clara Hogan) grew up in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada. Her family immigrated to Oregon when she was twelve years old. She never stopped loving or forgot her beloved island and her home near the sea. I have always wanted to see the island and despite my worldly wanderings I had never been to her birthplace. My sister Ananfaye and I decided to take a cruise and spend time in my mother’s neighborhood. We hired a driver and scoured the area for a glimpse into her life and to see her house at 18 Prince street a house built by my grandfather’s brother Rufus S. Hogan my great uncle. My great grandfather M.P. Hogan and his son Rufus were builders and merchants, but my grandfather whom I barely remember except that he called my mother Cala, not Clara and he took me for walks around the Oregon neighborhood where they lived when I was small. His name was Arthur Edward Hogan and I remember him taking my hand and telling me that he had held my mom’s hand the same way when she was little. He was a lawyer in PEI and graduated from law school at McGill University in Montreal also obtaining an LLM in law. My memory recalls him as being very gentle. My grandmother was Annie Mae Dorsey and I am sure her family lived nearby also on the island. I remember her well with long braids of grey that she let us brush when she undid her hair at night and if we were good we cuddled up with her and slept in her bed with her after grandpa died. My sister and I took turns sleeping with Grandma especially during the war when my dad was overseas and we lived with Grandma Hogan for a time. David our driver took us to 18 Prince street and and he knocked on the door of the residence explaining to the mistress of the house, (Denise) that our mother had lived in the house as a little girl and that our great uncle had built the house. She graciously welcomed us into her house and we viewed the property and back garden. It was barely modernized and everything seemed very old, with lots of wood and carvings above the doorways and a wide wood stairwell. It amused me because although I love old houses and furniture my mother did not care for antiques or anything old as an adult. The visit was an emotional experience that I had not expected and I felt overwhelmed and forgot to take pictures inside the house. Our driver took the picture posted above at the house. Exploring the neighborhood and seeing how close my mom lived to her cousins, aunts, uncles and...
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