Harrigan Cove

"One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth forever." Ecclesiastes 1:4

Home isn't just where the heart is or where you hang your hat... it’s where you're from. And we all have that in common! Halifax was my home. I was born there making me a bonafide Haligonian... I was raised in Harrigan Cove making me a bonafide country girl!

Harrigan Cove sits exactly on the 44 degree 44'37 N and 62 degree 17'54 W, east of Halifax by about 2 hours depending on who’s driving. To say Harrigan Cove is small is to say that New York City is huge. The Cove is indescribably small. It's not a town or a village but a community with houses spread out along the number 7 highway with a church and a grave yard thrown in for good measure. My friends having never been there have created a mystical place. A place where the ocean meets the road. For them it's a place of folklore and spirits, of murder and suicides, of love and hate, of hope and despair... and maybe it's become that for me too.

I may have spent my childhood trying to leave, but my father's love for his home really struck a cord with me. Our family jokes that he hates to leave it incase it won't be there when he gets back. Dad does loves it, but he didn’t work there. As the principle driver of his trucking company his office were the roads that lead in and out of it. He knew without doubt that there was a world outside and he visited it everyday. I envied that. I set my eyes on the rocky map of the moon that hung on my bedroom wall and focused on getting out.

We lived between my grandparents house and the church yard and a few miles from were James grew up. His father, Darius was a fisherman during Harrigan Cove's most prosperous time. Fishing, logging and mining meant the communities all around Harrigan Cove were booming and families were moving in to take part in the opportunities. James would become a miner and work the Port Dufferin Mine a few miles from his home. I've discovered that the mines kept great employee records and I plan to check into his file next time I'm home.

Certification of mine workers registers
RG19, Vols1-3, vol 4, Nos1-4, use reel 15674&15675
Mine injuries & Fatalities
RG19, Vol 4 No5; Vol 5, use reel 15675

Now a walk through Saint Mary's graveyard is a walk through my past, by ancestors I've never met and by people who have helped shape and guide me. I have always loved graveyards. For me they've never been a place where a story ends but a place where a story begins.

Saint Mary's Cemetery