Autobiography of Nettie Covey Sharpe
Collecting in Wartime: Going Door-to-Door in the Countryside
After I got married in September 1934, I moved to Montreal with my husband. When I arrived in Montreal, it seemed so poor to me. I lived in an apartment in the Notre-Dame-de-Grâce neighbourhood, on Côte-Saint-Antoine. At the time, I really liked doing things, keeping myself busy. I knew that I could earn my own living. So I continued to seek out pieces for my collection. I didn’t want to be just a housewife, staying at home washing dishes.
Here’s how I went about finding pieces for my collection during the Second World War. In those days, we had no gasoline, no tires — no car, for that matter. My father-in-law had a car he would lend us from time to time, but I preferred to arrange things for myself.
I am a very independent person. I would take my map and look for
small villages which weren’t too far from Montreal. Then I’d get two heavy
paper bags, and bring them along. I took either the train or the bus, and I went to all sorts of little villages which I didn’t know at all: Sainte-Rose, Saint-Polycarpe, all of the surrounding villages. I would get off the bus in the middle of places that were completely unfamiliar to me. I should also mention that I had only about eight to ten dollars in my handbag. I didn’t have much money in those days.
I would then go looking for new pieces by knocking on doors — just as I had done several years before, in my hometown. It wouldn’t take long for me to find things! My bags would be full in no time, and I would be out of money as well! I would get back on the bus in the afternoon, around four or five o’clock, return to Montreal, and disembark in front of the big Dupuis Frères department store. From there, I would take the 3A to get home to Notre-Dame-de-Grâce. I had my two bags, full of dishes and other things. I would laugh, I was happy.
When I got home, I would hide my purchases under the bed, because it wasn’t a good idea for me to show off everything I’d bought. And my husband didn’t want me to bring all kinds of junk into the apartment. I had to hide it. When I was still living with my parents, it was the same thing. Mother would say, “You don’t have any money to buy these things, all these bits and pieces.” It always had to be tucked away. So I hid everything, sometimes taking out a few pieces — but I didn’t display everything I found. It couldn’t be too obvious.
Nonetheless, I found so many nice things. And then, I began selling them. I don’t really know how it all started. I had accumulated quite a large quantity of nice things. There was no more room! It was all in boxes, under my bed.
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