Father's Day - That's That!

A vivid memory I have of my dad, Reginald George Stofer, from London, England, is the great struggle he undertook to build a home for his wife Violet and we three boys, myself, [Ken], and brothers Eric and Reg. Now I am 'enroute' to age 94 and have built my own house, I fully appreciate the trials and tribulations endured by my father in preparing a home for his family.   

Mom and dad had somehow acquired a small piece of land immediately behind the old original St. Aidans Church on Cedar Hill Cross Road on which stood a shell of half-finished house abandoned by someone else.  My father painstakingly turned this into a home for us.  We moved into 1645 Broadmead Avenue around 1932-33.  

Dad insisted that we three boys each have our own bedrooms, so he made sure there was a second floor.  My room faced the East, {upstairs left}, and brother Eric the North. My brother Reggie's room faced south towards [town] Victoria, about three miles away, and overlooked a country store on Cedar Hill X Road, owned by the Phillips family at that time. 

Reggie, a talented musician, often sat in his room [with his window open in the summer], and sang his head off while playing the guitar and practicing for an upcoming performance. Sometimes he sang in the garden.

Downstairs there was a hall leading to the front door, a bedroom for mom and dad, and right opposite their bedroom was the one bathroom for all of us.  

Beyond the bathroom was the Living Room which led into a sunroom with lots of windows overlooking what was to become our lovely garden.

I also remember the aviary that dad built and where he raised canaries.  He even "piped" music into the aviary and had a mike in there as well to "send" the birds singing back into our house. 

Off of the Living Room was quite a large kitchen [for its day],

and off of the kitchen was a small room into which came one end of a clothes line that reached from the house to the end of the garden.  Over the kitchen sink was a wide window overlooking the roof of our attached garage and into the lovely garden of the neighbour who was the minister of St. Aidans Church right next door.

I remember seeing dad sitting in his garden like this many times. 

His mind was constantly 'on the go' thinking about radios he could build, different varieties of canaries he could raise, or how he could change the garden.

Mom and dad were so pleased when the house was completed.  Mom told me once that she and dad were standing in front of the house side by side one sunny day, and mom said to dad, "Well that's that."  And so they named our house THAT'S THAT!   Sometimes they even used THAT'S  THAT as a part of their mailing address.  

 

I lived in this home until 1941, when by that time WW2 was underway in Europe.  I saved my money and paid my passage to England to join the R.A.F.  For five years mom and dad wrote wonderful detailed  letters to me so that I would always be in touch with home.

So on this Fathers' Day I remember my dad Reginald George Stofer and all of the effort he put into building a wonderful home for his family.