I was born January 2, 1895 at Petersbrook, Victoria County, 
Nova Scotia.  My father was John Ross, son of William Ross and Mary 
McLennan.  My mother was Flora McLeod daughter of Norman 
McLeod and Flora McLeod.
The Rosses came from Stornoway in Scotland.  The McLeods 
came from Harris on the Isle of Lewis Scotland.
They were early pioneers in Canada, the first of them coming 
to Canada in 1820.  Life was very difficult for them at first.  Unlike 
pioneers who came to the prairies who were able at once to harvest 
prairie grass to feed their stock, Cape Breton settlers had to cut 
down heavy timber and clear land before they could plant their crops. 
The Indians proved to be a problem as they were quite hostile.
A story is told about my Great Grandfather, Donald Ross who 
walked twenty miles to purchase a pig. When he returned home he 
put the young pig in the pen he had prepared for it and went to bed.  
When he went to feed the animal in the morning, it was gone, a bear 
had taken it.
My Great Grandmother Ross (Jessie McKenzie) was once 
badly beaten by an Indian who came to the house demanding food.  
He was not satisfied with what she gave him and beat her with a 
leather belt.  Great Grandfather shot the Indian when he paid them 
another visit a few days later.  
One favorable condition for these early settlers was that the 
sea was at their door and fish of various kinds were plentiful.  The 
Ross family lived for many years at Petersbrook while the
McLeods resided at South Haven, St. Anns.
I didn't know Grandfather Ross as he died before I was born.  
His wife, Grandmother Ross lived to be 104 years old.  She died in 
1913.  My grandfather McLeod lived to be ninety years old. He was a 
very interesting man.  From him I learned many lessons that shaped 
and guided my later life.  Grandmother McLeod was a wonderfully 
kind and beautiful person.  I can remember so well hearing her 
beautiful contralto voice singing hymns as she worked with her loom 
or spinning wheel.  There were seven children in my family, five boys 
and two girls. 
The oldest was Bill who I am sorry to say was a very difficult 
person to live with.  He was a selfish man who didn't seem to care 
about anyone but himself.  As a child I was afraid of him.  He was a 
very able sort of fellow who could do many things.  His talents 
included drawing and writing but he could do almost anything.  As a 
youth he lived with Alexander Graham Bell at his home in Baddeck.  
After he left Bell's he went to Island Falls in Maine.  He lived in Maine 
for some years and returned to Nova Scotia in 1902.   In 1903 he 
married and I hoped that he would be on his own and we would be 
free of his arrogant ways but I was wrong.  He still influenced our 
home.  Why mother put up with him was more than I could figure out.
He died on July 8, 1966.
The second son was Murdoch.  He was a happy sort of 
fellow.  We all loved Murdoch.  He and Bill did not get along.  In 1904 
he left for the west.  I always felt that we would never see him again.  
During the First World War, Bill, Norman, and Walter saw him in 
France.  In the week following their meeting with him he was killed 
the battle of the Somme. (September 12, 1918)  His widow lived in 
McLean Saskatchewan. They had four children, Ruby, Ivan, Donald 
and Murdoch.
My third brother was Dan.  He too was a clever man.  He was 
an electrical worker in a steel plant. He was very easy to live with and 
had a very comical side to his nature.  In 1914 he went to James Bay.  
The government was building an electrical plant on which he worked.  
He was married and had four children.
Norman was an artist.  He was a good cartoonist and could 
draw anything that he saw. He was a fine person and became a 
piper.  He was the champion piper of the New England States and
The Maritime Provinces.  He went all the way through World War 1.  
In the Second World War he enlisted and worked to camouflage 
Halifax harbor.  Six weeks after he enlisted he died of influenza.
Walter was a railroad man.  He had a lot of trouble with his 
lungs and spent a lot of time in the hospital.
While he was living in Halifax he learned about dentistry.  When he 
returned to Sydney, he did dental work for two local dentists.  He was 
married to Margaret Anderson.  He died on January 28, 1966.
Now there comes me - the first girl in the family.  During my 
childhood I was very sick.  I had Typhoid fever followed by measles 
and whooping cough.  It almost took my life.  When I was seven my 
Father died. (September 13, 1902).  His death was a very difficult 
thing for me as I loved him very much and spent as much time with 
him as I could.  I was his shadow.  Being the first girl in the family 
after five boys I think that to him I was special.  After his death my 
mother had to be both mother and father to us.  
I owe her so very much.  She taught me the importance of 
being honest and self-reliant.  Her life was not easy.  We moved to 
Sydney in 1900 just two years before my fathers death.  Mother died 
October 3, 1957, just three months short of her hundredth birthday.
I attended school in Sydney.  We belonged to St. James Presbyterian 
Church.  I can always be thankful for the training that I had there.   In 
those days the churches were not the liberal organizations that they 
are today.  After I left school my mother decided that I should 
become a milliner.  Golly how I hated that!  I spent more than a year 
learning how to make and decorate hats.  All sorts of darned hats.  
When I finished my training my mother got me a job at a "hat 
emporium" in Sydney.  When I asked what I would be paid I was told 
"nothing for the first six months" as they wanted to see how much I 
had learned.
One morning as I was on my way to work I met Dr. McRae and W.H. 
Manson, the local druggist.  They asked me where I was going and 
told them I was working at Mrs. Marrs Hat Shop.
"You don't want to make hats, do you?" They asked.  "We would like 
you to come and work for us."  I knew that mother would not 
approve. 
Mr. Manson had a racehorse and it was whispered that he 
kept a woman somewhere.  However we went back to the house.  I 
was trembling in my shoes.  As I expected, my mother said "No, 
indeed not" to their proposal.  Just then my brother Norman came 
home and said to mother "Leave her for once to do what she wants 
to do!"  After a spell of nagging, Mr. Manson persuaded mother to let 
me try it for a month promising to let me go if at the end of that time 
she still felt that I shouldn't be there.  So I put hats behind me and 
went to work in the drug store.  It was a happy place to work and I 
learned a lot that was helpful to me in later years when I was living 
out west.
I was married July 13, 1917.  My husband Frank Wilcox was 
born in Idaho.  After our marriage we moved to Toronto for a few 
months then went west.  It was a complete change of life for me.  
Then as now the east and the west were like two different countries.  
We lived on a ranch near Acme, 65 miles north of Calgary.  In March 
of 1918 we moved in to Calgary and our first child, Vivian, was born 
on April 10, 1918.  We made a number of moves.  Our children 
Eldon, Norma, Joyce and Hilda were born in McLean, a little town out 
side of Regina.  Jessie, David and John were born while we were 
living in Regina.  For a number of years my husband had lost contact 
with his family in Idaho.  For many years they thought that he had 
been killed in the war (WW1).  	
One night we were visited by a Mormon Missionary who
coincidentally had been raised on the farm next to my husbands' 
home in Idaho.  After ten years of marriage I found out that Frank 
had been raised as a Mormon.  In 1927 I joined the Mormon Church.  
I taught Sunday school for many years and also went on a mission.
My younger sister Mary became a nurse.  She moved to Boston.  She 
was married to Eric Stolt who was a fine person.  He became like a 
son to my mother.  He was a sea captain.  During World War II, his 
ship was sunk by a submarine and he died. 
I am the last one of my family alive.