Winnie Strang's life stretches from tip to tip on P.E.I.: The Story Line

"...and then I retired," says the voice on the other end of the phone. "And I guess that's about all."

I smile. She just gave me her entire life story in less than three sentences.

"Well, I bet we can find a bit more," I say.

He took the horse and sleigh and took us out on the river.— Winnie Strang

I'm sitting in the studio at CBC in Charlottetown, talking to a stranger on the phone. I do this every month.

"Everybody's got a story," is the theory I'm working on. To prove it, I open the P.E.I. phone book to a random page and stab my finger at the first name I find. 

This month, it's Winnie Strang. She's 78. She lives in Charlottetown now, but spent most of her adult life in O'Leary, P.EI. And that was after growing up as Winnie Cheverie on Main Street in Souris, P.E.I.

'We had a lovely childhood'

"It was great," she says, remembering back. "There were 16 of us."

"Sixteen kids?" I repeat.

She's laughing. "Yes."

"Where were you in that mess?"

"Oh, I was about three-quarters of the way down."

Strang might have gotten lost in the mix, especially in a tiny three-bedroom house where she shared a room with eight siblings. But she never felt that way, she said.

"We had a lovely childhood," she says. "We had a great mum and dad. They worked their asses off — dad as well as mum."

A lot of work but fun, too

Her mother worked at home, taking care of the kids. She made all of the clothes they wore. She taught all the kids to cook and clean. Strang figures the Cheverie house was the cleanest in Souris.

Her father worked on the wharf in summer. In winter, he worked in the woods with his own horse and wagon. To make a bit extra, he delivered groceries. 

Strang remembers her parents sitting and working long after the supper dishes were cleaned — her mum knitted, her dad kept busy mending socks.

It was a lot of work, but they had fun, too.

"Dad would take us on Sunday afternoons in the wintertime. He took the horse and sleigh and took us out on the river. We'd get so far up the river and he'd push us off."

"Like, push you right off the sleigh?" I say.

"Right off the sleigh," she laughs.

"Did you have to walk back?"

"Oh, no, he'd come back and get us after we walked for quite a while. When he figured we'd got enough exercise."

'Desperately needed a job'

As Strang was finishing school, her teachers recommended her for a program in Charlottetown to train as an X-ray technician.

"You must have been a good student," I say.

"Or they knew I desperately needed a job," she says.

The course in Charlottetown lasted a year. It was a big move for a small-town girl.

"I was lonesome, but I got to Souris every weekend," she says.

"Oh, you did?"

"We hitchhiked. There was a guy from Souris who went to school with me, and he and I would get together every Friday evening. We'd leave Charlottetown on the number 2 [highway]. And we were always pretty lucky to get a drive."

"And for the entire year, you were able to get a ride, back and forth?" I ask.

"Except for one weekend," she says. "Yeah."

Strang eventually took a permanent job even further from home, in O'Leary in western P.E.I.. She worked as an X-ray tech at the hospital for years, before moving to a clinic.

She retired to Charlottetown, but she spends summers at her cottage in Mill River, not far from O'Leary, which is where I've reached her today.

All in the family

Strang was married and had a son — Paul. She also has three grandkids and two great-grandkids. Just one of her grandkids still lives on the Island.

"She's got one, and she's pregnant now," she says.

"So you've got two-and-a-half great-grandkids," I say.

"Yeah, I'm really excited about it. I'm really close to my grandchildren. Really close. I couldn't do without them."

Winnie Strang is a citizen of the Island. A life that strings from Souris to O'Leary. She has a well-worn hitchhiker's thumb and a pile of grandkids to show for it.

Not bad for a girl born three-quarters of the way down.

More P.E.I. news