In 1917 after two years of successful articling, Ted went off to Toronto for his studies at Osgoode Hall. Shortly before his lectures were to begin in September of that year, he left home and made his way by train to the big city. His feelings can be imagined on the ride from London into Union Station, a mixture of the excitement and anticipation any young person must feel at the start of a major adventure, coupled with concerns and worries about the state of his finances. Had he saved enough? Would there be expenses he had not counted on in his budget? Apparently he went directly to a boarding house run by a Mrs. Susan O’Shea, listed as a designer who let rooms at 74 Baldwin Street. It was Martha who travelled to Toronto to see how he was making out. She spent Labour Day weekend with him, leaving very early on the Monday morning in order to get to Sarnia for commencement of her teaching duties on Tuesday morning.
Ted wrote home: —
“Labour Day 1917 Dear dad and all: — Martha got here safely and Mrs. O’Shea let her have a room. The train was an hour late caused, I suppose, by Exhibition and Labour Day traffic. We went to the Exhibition Saturday afternoon. There was a crowd and that made it difficult to see the exhibits. I expected, at least, to see something extra-ordinary but was disappointed and although there was a huge conglomeration of things I found nothing of interest but some rattlesnakes, deep-sea fish, a West Indies Exhibit, and some cottage cheese mixed with a little peanut butter and moulded in various shapes.
I got up early this morning and went down with Martha to the Union Station, breakfasted at the Walker House Cafeteria, spent the morning reading at the office and wandered around town this afternoon. I will read some more tonight but I find it tedious and hard to keep my interest up. I haven’t touched law.
A week ago Sunday I sat out on the Island and finished Salton on “Hereditary Genius.” I now have on hand Hamerton’s “Intellectual life,” “Essays in the Art of Writing” by R.L. Stevenson, “The Ocean,” by Sir fohn Murray and a book on authors called “18th Century Sketches.” Quite a collection as you see.
I’m a bit worried about my Law School work. In the first place, I don’t know how to study. I thought of taking a heavy meal in the morning and quitting supper but it wouldn’t be feasible when boarding. I have decided to try getting up at 5.30 and have some toast and cocoa and study until breakfast. I will try walking or exercising an hour after supper to overcome its effect of drowsiness and reading say from 7.30 to 9.30. I have some doubt whether I can stand that much work but it will probably be necessary.
The enclosed circulars were got at the Exhibition. I wish you could send me some magazines for light reading — some Literary Digest if you have any. Martha found her pin — Ted.”
Both loneliness and anxiety were Sam’s lot as he began the formal part of his legal training, and his reading material as he outlined to his father was hardly likely to afford him light hearted amusement.
Five days later on September 6 he wrote again to the family.
“Saturday Dear People: — I have moved and am writing this in my new room. The address is
S.E. Weir Knox College Residence Toronto,
but as the parcel will come by express possibly you had better send it to the office (120 Bay). It is unlikely the delivery man could find anybody to sign his book. It is chilly down here and I caught a cold last night or this morning. I think I had better have my overcoat. I don’t know whether to go up thanksgiving or not. I could go up Saturday noon & return Tuesday morning. I could bring the overcoat back with me then. I don’t like to spend the money (something like $5.00) as I have so little left and must buy some text books. I lost $2 out of my pocket Friday. I will have to have the coat pressed anyway and am not particularly anxious to go up. What do you think about it? For myself I think I had better have the coat sent down with the bathrobe. I suppose they could both go in a suit box. …”
Sam went on to describe his room, its position facing east onto the quadrangle and its bay window.
Although it was not encouraged, but it may have been condoned, Osgoode students were not expected to work in a law firm. For many a student however, it was a necessary adjunct to a livelihood. Sam seems to have been taken on by G. Wilkie of Corley, Wilkie, Duff and Hamilton whose address was listed at 120 Bay Street.
An October 1917 letter had Ruth musing that “Ted seems to have a near thing of it making ends meet.” For his second and third years he found a cheaper lodging on Washington Avenue nearby. Later he claimed he had been at Osgoode on scholarships. All his professional life Ted, or Sam, longed for an undergraduate degree in law, a LL.B.
In writing to Ruth in 1917, Martha may have sounded gloomy and depressed in her letter as her friends, including a special one, went off to war. She apparently indicated to Ruth that she did not enjoy teaching particularly. After the war her special friend returned from overseas, shell shocked and with amnesia. Remaining unmarried, Martha stuck it out teaching English and History at a high school in Sarnia, until her retirement in 1959.
The year after the war ended the family was eagerly waiting to hear that Ruth would be coming home. Ruth wrote on January 22, 1919, “I am on my way to Rumania. The Red Cross gently but firmly suggested that I go. It’s only until July. There will be 60 of us in the party — six nurses. I will keep a little diary. I will be giving out aid and food. No nursing.” Unfortunately, although Ruth’s letters number in the hundreds, the ‘little diary’ has not survived.
Ruth’s career in Romania centred around parcelling out food in remote mountainous areas and ensuring that peasants planted the seeds rather than eating them at once. In this she was so successful that her activities came to the notice of Queen Marie of Romania. Ruth was invited to stay in the palace upon more than one occasion and the Queen accompanied her on several of her missions. Ruth was decorated with the Regina Maria medal, the highest honour that could be bestowed on a foreigner by the Romanian government. Altogether she had provided 700,000 meals in one year. In June of 1920, Ruth contracted malaria and was invalided to Paris. Part of her prescribed treatment was taking pills laden with arsenic. By October, Ruth was invalided back to New York City and although still ill, she returned to London, celebrated as a war heroine.
When Ruth first arrived in Romania, she was headquartered in Bucharest, but when visiting Constanta on the sea coast, she celebrated her thirty-third birthday with a party. Her presents were jokes from her friends, except, “but I did get a beautiful Turkish rug from my buddy.” This was more than likely a reference to Wilbur Howell of New York, also serving in the American Red Cross and whom she later married. In Constanta also Ruth found what she had been searching for, a chess set for Ted. The one she found was of amber, intricately and delicately carved, and made in Moscow. Wilbur approved saying, “it was very fine.”
Ruth and Wilbur Howell announced their marriage in the City of New York as having taken place on January 22, 1921. No mention was made of a specific location, neither a church nor a city hall civil ceremony. Apparently there were no Weirs present, with the exception, of course, of the bride. Wilbur was to become a great influence on Sam in his growing interest in and appreciation of art. The two men became devoted friends and Wilbur’s acceptance of and hospitality to his wife’s family made him a quite exemplary son-in-law.
At some time between 1915 and 1920, Sarah underwent an operation for exophthalmic goitre. Dr. Hadley Williams, Martha’s former employer, performed the operation. Sarah must have been feeling tired and irritable, usual symptoms of the condition quite often brought on by strain and worry. Although letters written to those serving overseas were not to be retained, a letter from Sarah to Ruth from 1919 has survived, telling that, “Paul has sprayed the fruit trees. Ted