Turkey
Point's Quaint Old Lady
Tells the Story of her Life
Mrs. William
("Widow") Helmer, in her 90th year,
has lived over 50 years in her Tumbledown Shack.
A strange tale of witchcraft pursued her husband
There is a fable
about an old mother who lived in a shoe. Norfolk's oldest mother does
not live in a shoe, but she lives in one of the tiniest houses
imaginable.
Sheltered beneath
the sandy brow of Turkey Point hill, and nearly secluded from view by
clumps of trees and twining bushes, this tumbledown shack has stood
the test of the sweeping winds and storms for which Lake Erie is
famous, for more than half a century.
Weather-beaten
and disintegrated it is, but nevertheless home to one of the
quaintest, yet finest old ladies that ever called Norfolk her birth
place.
Mrs. William
Helmer is familiarly known to hundreds of Norfolk people as
"Widow" Helmer. On 15 Feb 1924 she passed the 90th milestone
of her life. More than 50 of those years have been spent within the
confines of the small tract of land that surrounds her miniature
home.
Twenty-one years
ago her husband died, and since that day she has cheerfully endured
the lonely existence which is hers. Truly, her happiness amidst the vastly
solitude in which she lives, year after year, is sublime.
Her little house
a one-storey affair, comprises a living-room and two bedrooms, one of
which is now used as a storeroom.
In her simple
home are dozens of antique articles, which have been there for many
decades. Old clocks, spoons, dishes, beds, and miscellaneous pieces of
furniture almost beyond number rest in [the same place they were
30 years ago].
Her garden, one
of her proudest possessions, yields sufficient vegetables for herself.
A few scattered fruit trees, heavily-laden grape vines, and a
dilapidated well about complete the simple environment in which
"Widow" Helmer lives.
Her two constant
companions are her dog and her cane, the latter having been carved by
her late husband more than six decades ago. These are the things that
make life worth while for this struggling widow.
For a
nonagenarian she is amazingly active, in spite of the fact that she
finds her cane an invaluable aid. No insidious disease has touched her
strong physique. The Reformer found her about 100 yards from the cabin
she calls home, busily engaged in repairing a fence that belligerent
cattle had succeeding in damaging.
"Widow"
Helmer carries her own drinking water from a nearby creek. (She fears
her well has been poisoned by family enemies.) She saws her own wood
for her kitchen stove. She is an expert gardener and adores caring for
her beloved flowers and vegetables.
Her mind is quite
as clear and active as her body, and with the aid of glasses she
indulges in considerable reading.
"Widow"
Helmer's chief occupation, in which she is most frequently engaged, is
the knitting of woolen gloves and socks. With her it is an art, and she
has readily disposed of hundreds of pairs. The proceeds are sufficient
to buy her all the immediate necessities of life.
"Widow"
Helmer has had a most singular and highly entertaining history, if all
the tale were known. But while she speaks freely and well, it is nigh
impossible to weave her broken story into an orderly biography.
She was born nine
decades ago on the Forestville farm of her father, Walter Wood
Watkins, one of Norfolk's United Empire Loyalists. Her maiden name was
Mary Watkins. She grew up on the farm and lived there until her early
twenties, when she married.
William Helmer
was her second husband, and by him she had three children, two of whom
have predeceased her, one daughter having been drowned. The third is
Mrs. John Jackson, who still resides at Turkey Point.
"Widow"
Helmer came with her husband to live beneath the towering cliffs of
Turkey Point more than 50 years ago. Their new home was nestled in a
wilderness of trees and the waves of Lake Erie were lapping at the
front doorstep.
Mr. Helmer was a
fisherman and during the warmer months was busy with his nets. In
winter he accompanied the late Dr. James Salmon to Long Point Island,
where the twain would spend many weeks hunting and trapping. Thus it
was only at brief intervals that "Widow" Helmer saw her
husband.
But she was not
idle. Stronger and sturdier of physique than many a man, she swelled
the family income materially with her own fish nets and her own traps.
Even in recent years she has continued in the fishing game and
remnants of nets are still to be seen about her house.
Mr. Helmer was in
his late 70s when he died, just 21 years ago. Of the latter years of
his life, "Widow" Helmer recounts many weird, almost
unbelievable occurrences.
A certain
infamous man, she says, who lived in the neighborhood, had a Black Art
Book, with which he exercised evil powers over her husband. He would
pursue Mr. Helmer with his witchcraft until the latter was instantly
filled with the most appalling fear at every approach of his
enemy.
In the grip of
these devilish spirits, she says, he would continually awake in the
middle of the night, terrified and quaking with fear, and screaming
aloud at nonexistent dangers.
It is
"Widow" Helmer's firm belief that this witchcraft tended to
hasten the death of her beloved husband. At any rate, as the end
approached his delusions grew more frequent and more violent.
All that was more
than 21 years ago, and since then "Widow" Helmer has had a
rather harried and precarious existence. Bereft of all earthly
relatives except her daughter, she has struggled along with admirable
fortitude and perseverance. Her cattle and oxen would mysteriously
disappear, her fences would be torn down and her other possessions
plundered.
But in spite of
her pecuniary and household troubles, her increasing feebleness and
advancing years, Widow Helmer is still looking optimistically to the
future. Her smiling countenance and jovial nature are marveled at by
all who know her.
Just one instance
of her courageous efforts to keep house and property in order: Year by
year she had watched the water recede, that once surrounded her home.
Not so long ago there remained only two or three good-sized pools of
water. She was determined to erase them forever. With a wheelbarrow
and shovel she carted exactly 99 loads of muck and sand to finally
make land where once the water stood four feet deep.
The only complaint
"Widow" Helmer had to make to the Reformer was in
denunciation of the practice of fishing and hunting off Turkey Point
on the Sabbath. She thinks the government should put a stop to this
outrageous practice, or else the Salvation Army should come down to
the Point and take the matter in hand.
"Widow"
Helmer never leaves the home to which 50 long years have endeared her
beyond conception. In all that time she has never visited Long Point,
and not since the death of her husband has she been seen on the hill
at Turkey Point.
Her home is her
all, and it is the hope and expectation of her friends that she will
still be keeping her solitary vigil there when a century of years have
passed over her grey head.
