This is a real hodge-Podge of Fife Family quotations, tall tales, folklore, legends, white lies, hear-say, and anything else that we have found, liked, and couldn't figure out where else to put them.  Remember that the stories might not be exactly the way you have heard it, or how you recall, or even about the person you thought it was - and that over time these stories have probably been embellished (Oh, ever so slightly!). One fact is true though, they are uniquely ours, so enjoy what you find here and be sure to pass along any other gems that you have so that we may include them here.

Recollections of Evelyn K. Handford nee Fife to Austin Fife.
I’m going to tell you a bit about my childhood, in New Canaan, because in most respects it wasn’t all that different than your father’s generation. Progress didn’t rush headlong into New Canaan! By any standard today, we would be considered very poor, but all our neighbors were in the same boat, so it wasn’t a big deal. The Great Depression hardly caused a ripple in our lives; we lived much the same before, during, and after it happened. However, we were never cold or hungry, and we had loving parents, who never seemed to mind how often we were underfoot at their house. Nearly everything we ate came from the farm, we bought very little, except staples. My father grew buckwheat, had it ground into flour at the gristmill, and we ate buckwheat flour pancakes and baked beans all winter long. We also grew the beans. No one worried much about a proper diet, the aim was to make sure everyone had a full stomach! My father sold garden produce to the mining towns in summer, and worked as a logger in winter. My mother helped outside sometimes, as well as looked after the family, and in addition, sewed all of our clothes. They worked like ‘dogs’ and I always felt sad that they never had a holiday.

After the war, blueberries became a good cash crop, so most people gave up mixed farming, which was marginal anyways, and turned their pastures into blueberry fields. Those brown hills you saw in New Canaan are blue gold! Everyone there seems to live quite comfortably now, and some have become downright prosperous. They have smaller families nowadays, but the young people still have to leave the area to find jobs. Russell Fife is the only descendant of Sam Fife, Sr. living there now.

I remember playing with Eileen, and I recall that Thelma used to turn cartwheels and handsprings that we all tried to duplicate unsuccessfully. I also remember that we were mightily impressed with a big car that Gilbert Fife drove to N.S. It was called a Reo Flying Cloud, and it looked pretty posh to us, and it was like a floating palace to ride in then.

My Grandfather, Charles T. had a great affection for ‘Jim’s Children’, as he called them, and was always happy when they came to visit. I remember Ben best, as he made many trips to N.S. Also Harry visited several years, and of course, we saw Lloyd fairly often until his untimely death. Grandpa loved Lloyd like a son.

My father’s younger sister, Aunt Cynthia is still living (Eileen would remember her). She is in her 89^th year, I think, and her mind is failing; she is in a nursing home in Pugwash, N.S. It’s too bad, she was a bright and talented lady, and could have told you so much about your father’s family if she had been able.

My brother Charles inherited the original Fife farm when my father (Stanley) died. However, Charlie’s wife died early, and he had no children, so on his death a few years ago the farm had to be sold. He was the fourth generation to hold title to it. I was saddened that it went to a stranger, but that’s life, I guess.

Some general information about being a Scot.

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DAMN FEW AND THEY'RE A' DEAD

The Average Englishman, in the home he calls his castle, slips into his national costume - a shabby raincoat - patented by chemist Charles Macintosh from Glasgow, Scotland. En route to his office he strides along the English lane, surfaced by John Macadam of Ayr, Scotland.
He drives an English car fitted with tyres invented by John Boyd Dunlop of Dreghorn, Scotland.
At the office he receives the mail bearing adhesive stamps invented by John Chalmers of Dundee, Scotland.
During the day he uses the telephone invented by Alexander Graham Bell, born in Edinburgh, Scotland.
At home in the evening his daughter pedals her bicycle invented by Kirkpatrick MacMillan, blacksmith of Dumfries, Scotland.
He watches the news on TV, an invention of John Logis Baird of Helensburgh, Scotland, and hears an item about the U.S. Navy, founded by John Paul Jones of Kirkbean, Scotland.
He has now been reminded too much of Scotland and in desperation he picks up the bible, only to find the first man mentioned in the good book is a Scot - King James VI - who authorized its translation.
Nowhere can an Englishman turn to escape the ingenuity of the Scots. He could take to drink, but the Scots make the best in the world.
He could take a rifle and end it all, but the breech-loading rifle was invented by Captain Patrick Ferguson of Pitfours, Scotland.
If he escapes death, he could find himself on an operating table injected with penicillin, discovered by Alexander Fleming of Darvel, Scotland, and given an aesthetic, discovered by Sir James Young Simpson of Bathgate, Scotland.
Out of the anaesthetic he would find no comfort in learning that he was as safe as the Bank of England, founded by William Paterson of Dumfries, Scotland.
Perhaps his only remaining hope would be to get a transfusion of guid Scottish blood which would entitle him to ask...

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