Bertrice Irene (Leffel) Hallett (1908 - 1988)

Born 27 Apr 1908 in Mesick, Wexford Co., Michigan, USA

Ancestors

Wife of Frederick Charles Hallett — married 18 Jun 1929 (to 4 Oct 1948) in Pontiac First Christian Church, West Huron Street, Pontiac, Oakland Co., Michigan, USA

Descendants

Died 10 Jul 1988 at age 80 in St. Joseph Mercy Hospital, Pontiac, Oakland Co., Michigan, USA

Problems/Questions Profile manager: Cathryn Hondros [send private message]

Biography

This profile won Profile of the Week the Fourth week of October 2014.

Bertrice was named for Bertrice Martin, a very good friend of her mother.

Bertrice documented the events of her life and some of her stories are shared here. Be warned that the details of life on the farm are not for the squeamish!

Her story "Breakfast with Uncle Hank" in included in the WikiTree profile of the U.S. Representative Henry A. Barnhart from the state of Indiana.

Bertrice's Milestones in her Own Words

Bertrice Irene Leffel Hallett was born April 27, 1908 on a farm in Mesick, Michigan in Wexford, Michigan.

Started in Minor School next to our home in September 1915.

Went to live with Grandparents Maria Leffel and Jacob Leffel in December 1919.

Was in 6th grade (teacher put me ahead one grade and Ardath back one grade so that she wouldn't have so many grades) (country schoolteacher) so Ardath would have been in 6th grade, too in 1919. Teacher put me back one semester when I started in Pontiac Grade School (McConnell on Paddock Street) 1919 so I must have been put in 6B.

Graduated at age 18 from Pontiac Central High School in June 1926.

Went to Oakland County Normal School on Howard Street, Pontiac for one year, graduated 1927.

Taught Hosner School 1927-28.

Taught Kingsbury School 1928-29.

Married June 18, 1929, Pontiac First Christian Church, West Huron Street. Just near relatives attended. Rev. Pack officiating. Witnesses Frank Hallett and Ardath Dorgelo. Honeymooned in Canada. Ard had wedding dinner for us.

Lived at farm in Summer 1929 while Mother and Father-in-law were in England.

Built brick bungalow in Summer 1929. Move in in fall. Neighbors had a housewarming. Met at Stone Front Garage. Walked over with food, coffee and gifts.

Doug was born in November 1930.

Nancy born in December 1931.

Took them to the First Christian Church in Nursery class when 3 and 4. Mrs. Carrie Gardener was the teacher.

Transferred to West Bloomfield Community Sunday School in Town Hall.

Didn't teach again until fall of 1943-44 in Wixom Standard School, then Walled Lake Consolidated, here 13 years.

Transferred to Twin Beach School - 1957 - here 16 years.

Retired in 1973.

Tornado in March 1976.

Moved to Maybee Road, Clarkston, June 1976.

Bertrice's "Memories of my Early Life (before 10)"

<Note: A copy of this document where Bertrice described her early life was provided to the Copemish Historical Society and they published it in their blog in February 2013. ^[1] >

Memories of my Early Life (Before 10) By Bertrice Irene Leffel Hallett, February 16, 1983 (c) 2010 by Cathryn Hallett Hondros

My Father: Guy Wellington Leffel My Mother: Bertha May Chubb Leffel daughter of George L. Chubb and Amanda (Ann) Hinchman Chubb, and granddaughter of Alonzo Chubb and Elizabeth Sutherland Chubb.

For a person who died so young (December 24, 1918), my Mother was such a well rounded woman. I can’t remember her failing in anything. But of course, children always see only the good things about their mother who they love so much.

Our mother, no more than 30 years old when she died, was an excellent cook. Things always were so tasty. There were no prepared foods then; everything was made from “scratch”. I especially remember warm dark chocolate pudding made from flour, cocoa, milk, vanilla and sugar cooked real thick, then served with ice cold milk. (Milk with the cream left in.) We’d have it for supper.

Mother had to cook for threshers, too. If we had fried chicken, they weren’t bought like Kentucky Fried Chicken or bought at the store all cleaned and cut up. We had to chase down young roosters. Pop had to chop their heads off. The chickens would flop around for a while and then lie still. Mother would scald them with feathers on by dipping them in a pail of scalding water, then lay them out to cool somewhat. Then she would pull off their feathers, take out the guts, then cut them into serving pieces and put in cold water to draw out any blood. Then she’d dry off the water, salt and pepper the pieces, roll them in flour and fry in lard and butter or in thick cream that she browned first. Sometimes father shot either quail or squirrel for a meal, sometimes for breakfast.

When we walked to a country school carrying a tin lunch pail our mother often had to fry chicken early in the a.m. and lay a piece on the top of the lunch before she put on the lid. Sometimes mother would mix some Karo syrup with peanut butter for our sandwiches. We usually had an apple or canned fruit sauce, too.

Mother would also churn our butter from the cream that she had obtained from the separator. The cream kept cool daily in the well. She would put the thick cream in a crockery butter churn. There was a wooden dasher that reached down into the cream and extended through a hole upwards. To make butter she would pull the dasher up and down till she felt the cream getting very thick and then it would turn to butter, gathering in large chunks in the buttermilk. She would then take off the lid and with a butter paddle (wooden) lift it into a wooden butter bowl. She would work it with the paddle to get every bit of the buttermilk out (pouring off the buttermilk as it accumulated) leaving solid butter. If the day were hot, she’d used some ice from the ice house, in the bowl to keep it solid as she worked with it. After buttermilk was out, she’d salt it and if it were winter she might add a few drops of orange butter coloring and work it in evenly. (In summer the cream was more yellow due to the green grass the cows ate.) The butter was put in a crock or for company dinner, sometimes mother would make small fancy prints with a design on it from wooden molds or prints. Sometimes butter was sold at the local stores to help buy needed groceries. Other times the collected hen’s eggs were given in exchange for groceries.

The buttermilk wasn’t wasted either. Sometimes people liked to drink it cold. Again it was used to make cake, pancakes or cornbread or biscuits. If there was too much it wasn’t wasted, but the pigs got some along with the separated skim milk. This was mixed with a dry, ground grain mixture and put in the trough, The pigs really “pitch in” making lots of noise and getting so enthused they’d often put a front foot or so in the trough. I guess that’s where the expression came from “eating or acting like a pig.”

Mother also made her own carpeting. She would cut strips of cotton material in various colors and hand sew them together making them into large ball as large as your head or bigger. When a great number of balls were finished, she would take them to a man who wove them into long strips of carpeting about one yard wide. Mother would hand sew these strips together so she would have a carpet to fit our living room. Mother and father would put down clean straw (from our threshing) down on the floor as a pad, and then they’d use a stretcher to make the carpet real tight. After they would use carpet tacks to keep it in place. If the carpet got too dirty after a year or two, it would have to be ripped up, then strips washed, rinsed and hung on the line for drying and then again sewed together and put down.

Sometimes Mother or Grandmother would sew either all wool or cotton strips into a long string and then crochet them into circular rugs, sometimes with an all one color stripe or two.

On wash day, first water was pumped by hand for the rinses. Rain water was heated on the range stove, carried to the washing machine that was turned by hand and wrung by hand, too. Sometimes the white clothes were put in a boiler on the stove and boiled, (supposedly to make them whiter).

Father and Mother butchered and then cut up and cured their own pork meat (about 4 animals). Father would have a neighbor come over and they would build a hot fire under big black iron kettles that were filled with water.

The animals were usually shot, then stuck with a sharp knife in the throat. (We girls would usually put our fingers in our ears so we couldn’t hear them shoot the animals.) After the animals bled well, they would drag them over and put them into the kettles, then quickly take them out and lay them on long tables to scrape them clean of any hair or bristles leaving the skin, pinky white. Then the pig was slit and gutted and washed in cold water until clean and the blood gone. Then the heads were cut off and the carcasses hung up until next day so that the cooled properly. (Butchering was done in cold weather, as a rule.)

Next day they were cut in pieces – hams, shoulders, bacon strips. Nothing was wasted. The liver, heart, head was used. Sometimes liver and heart was given to neighbors. The head was cleaned and cooked and made into a cold meat called head cheese. The meat was cooked, put into a food chopper, then into a loaf pan. Some cooked liquid from the meat poured over it, then pressed down with a weight. The gelatin from the cooked bones would jelly and hold the meat together. Of course seasonings would be put in as it was mixed before pressing. Sometimes the legs were cut into chunks, cooked and pickled and we called them pickled pig’s feet.

Some of the small intestines were emptied, (scraped and scraped) and cleaned and washed and used to hold the ground sausage meat after sage, salt and pepper were mixed in. Then the sausage would be smoked (at home). Without freezing or refrigerators (as today) the sausage would be partly fried then put into cans and the hot lard poured over it to seal. When it was used at some later date, the sausages were forked out of lard into a frying pan and fried until golden brown to be eaten with pancakes.

Father raised sorghum corn and had sorghum molasses made from it. We used either this or honey (from bee hives on the farm) on our pancakes along with our homemade butter. (Sometimes Karo syrup.) If the weather was extra cold some sausage was kept fresh in the cool well.

The hams, shoulders and sides were cured with a mixture of brown sugar, salt, pepper and salt petre. This mixture was thoroughly rubbed into the meat and the meat lay on long tables a few days then turned and the procedure was repeated several times. After the meat was satisfactorily cured, a new cheesecloth was wrapped around each piece. A wire was put through the smaller end then it was hung in a small closed building (called a smokehouse). A fire was then made of hickory chips on the ground within the building. It was smothered so it would only smoke the meat. (Taking in the smoky essence for a few days), the smoked flavor went clear through to the bones. After this, the meat was hung in a very cold place, perhaps the ice house or basement until used. Because of the cheesecloth, flies or insects didn’t get into the meat. Meat fixed this way had a very special flavor and taste. If you haven’t ever tasted any like this you’ve missed something very special.

We didn’t get beef so often. Once in a while a neighbor might butcher a young beef and send over a roast or a piece of steak.

Mother also helped pick fruit and preserve it. She canned applesauce and put it in one-half gallon size tin Karo syrup pails. Then she would put on the lids real tight and dip the pails upside down in hot, melted paraffin to seal them. When we left the farm to go to Copemish, Michigan to live with Grandma Chubb for the winter (while our dad and grandpa worked in War plants in Muskegon winter 1918, wartime), mother took some of this canned applesauce along for winter.

We had a big blue Concord grape orchard my dad had planted. It seemed in those days things didn’t need to be sprayed so much as there weren’t as many insects.

Mother would take Ardath 12 and Bertrice 10 and a large milk pail and go back to the rear wooded section of our farm to pick wild black and red raspberries. She would pick both colors into the same pail. Sometimes we’d get the big pail full. She’d serve us some fresh, with separated cream, then she’d make jam or can the remainder. Once when mother had the big milk pail about full of berries we heard an animal (a bear we thought) make a loud noise in the woods and mother hurried to get out, climbed over a fallen log, and spilled nearly all of her berries.

This time Ardath and I (Bertrice) got tired of helping pick berries and we wandered over to cleared land. We saw a hole in a fence post and looked in. It was a bird’s nest with eggs in it. To our surprise a snake was coiled in the nest eating the eggs.

Another day in July or thereabouts, Pop, Mom and us children would ride in the wagon with just the boards across, take a basket of lunch and perhaps milk or lemonade and go back to the hills and pick wild huckleberries. They were darker than blueberries and somewhat smaller, but sweeter. They grew on bushes close to the ground. Our father would also do some fishing while the berries were picked. We’d spend the greater part of a day. The fish would be cleaned and fried at home. We really had to look out for the bones so we wouldn’t get one caught in our throats.

Mother also grew rhubarb for sauce.

Father would also take the wagon and several crates in late summer or autumn and go several miles away and pick several bushels of peaches to can. After he picked and paid for the peaches, the owner would let him pick up from the ground several bushels free. Mother used these for making peach butter or jam. The neighbors would ask him to bring some for them also.

In the fall Ardath and Bertrice would be enlisted to help pick up potatoes for a few cents per bushel. Father dug them with a fork throwing two rows together in the center. We girls might earn as much as fifty cents per day. We would use this as spending money, perhaps buying some little trinket or dish.

Father would sell some bushels of potatoes in town or trade for groceries or needed supplies. The remainder of the crop would be put in deep pits in the ground. These pits were lined with straw and would keep the potatoes from freezing and in good condition even till next spring. Perhaps carrots, turnips, vegetable oysters, etc. would be put into the pits, too. These were dug up and sold when the price seemed right. Some were shipped and some were used for cooking and some for seed potatoes in the Spring.

Now and then Father would take a bushel or two of summer yellow transparent apples into Mesick (a small town) and trade for groceries. Perhaps only getting a couple of dollars for two bushels.

Father also planted about ½ acre of cucumbers. We girls (10 and 12 years) would have to get up early in the a.m. while dew was still on the vines and pick them. They would be sorted into tiny ones, dill pickle size and “so on”. Father would haul them (by team) to Mesick, Michigan. Heinz Pickle Co. had large round tanks of salt water beside the railroad tracks. The farmers would drive up, pour their crates of cucumbers into the brine and get paid quite a bit for the tiny ones, but then, there wouldn’t be so many of them either. Mother would use some of the cucumbers for slicing and canned pickles. Father would have from ½ to 1 acre of cucumber vines and we girls dreaded picking them perhaps twice a week.

Another chore we girls had to do early after milking was to take the cows back to pasture. Sometimes we’d grab the cows by the tail and switch the cows getting them to run real fast. Sometimes to our misfortune, the cows would relieve themselves and we, going so fast, would have to step in it barefoot. We weren’t allowed to run the cows when bringing them up from pasture at night before milking time as that was supposed to keep them from releasing so much milk.

Another chore we had was to gather and bring in wood chips (where Pop had chopped the wood for our stoves.) These chips were used as kindling to start the fire in the heating stove in the living room and the wood range in the kitchen.

Another chore was to gather the eggs each day. Sometimes an old hen would peck us as we reached under the for eggs.

Mother also sewed most of our dresses. At one time she sent away by catalogue for white embroidery cloth to make us Easter dresses. When the material arrived, she was disappointed with the material, but because the time was short, she made dresses anyway. We girls looked real “Eastery” in them. Usually, in those days, girls wore long black stockings with all clothes.

Many times we children went barefoot and wore shoes only for “dress ups.” That made us a chore of washing our feet in summer in a basin of water on the back porch before we went to bed. It seemed, because we were barefoot so much, it was difficult to get into our shoes when we needed to. They seemed tight.

Also on Saturday night we took our weekly bath. Of course, with no inside plumbing, we heated a big wash tub of water on the wood range. In winter, mother filled the tub “sky high” with snow and let it melt and warm. We didn’t have to pump it, but enjoyed soft water. One after another we used the same tub of water, which had been placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. Then up to bed with one of us carrying a kerosene lamp. The upstairs was always very chilly as the rooms were warmed only by the heating stove in the living room and the kitchen range.

On Sundays we always attended the next door country school which was used as a Sunday school and church. Sometimes Mother made a big cake and took over to the Sunday school for an ice cream social (homemade Ice Cream, of Course). When we had socials at Sunday School, we young people played singing games outside.

I remember one time when a little child had died in the neighborhood, mother went out to her flower garden and gathered a pretty bouquet of flowers and arranged then in a cut glass basket and had us girls carry them down to the home (more than a mile away) for the funeral.

One time after church we all drove into Mesick to the Manistee River and our minister at the Country Schoolhouse baptized some people. I think my mother was one of them.

At regular school at recess time, we played ball, Anti-I-Over (woodshed), Run Sheep Run, Fox and Geese in the Snow, made Angel Prints by lying down in the snow banks and spreading our arms up and down to make wing shapes on the angels, also Hide & Seek and Pom Pom Pull Away, Come Away or I’ll Fetch You Away.

For Thanksgiving and Xmas, if we went to Grandma Leffel’s, we’d go “Over the River and Through the Woods” in a sleigh box pulled by a team. In the box would be fresh straw and a couple of comforters and we children would lie down and cover up to keep warm. Mother and father would sit up in front on the spring seat braving the cold wind and driving the team. It would be closer to go through the woods and often the snow would be less deep.

If we stayed at home on Christmas, father would take his ax and go into the woods and cut us a nice tree. We would decorate it with strung popcorn and perhaps some paper chains we had made. There were few gifts – maybe a doll with homemade clothes, some warm mittens or clothes and an orange for a treat (we didn’t get oranges very often.)

One time our folks let Ardath and I drive one horse hitched to the buggy to Bagnell a few (3 or 4) miles distant alone to get some groceries. The stores in those days were much different from today. Everything was in large containers like wooden barrels (of cookies), peanut butter was dipped into paper containers and sold by the pound. Lard and sugar was weighed as you watch. People bought flour by 25 or 50 or 100 pound bags (gunny sack material). People traded eggs, apples and the like for groceries. We had an itemized list of groceries to buy (we girls) and were told we could have the money left after paying for the groceries to buy candy. Storekeeper was out of some of the things, so of course, being children with not that much judgment, we came home with lots of candy.

When the family rode anywhere in the buggy, Mother and Father rode in the seat and perhaps a child or so between them or on Mother’s lap. There was no protection from the sun, wind or dust. I guess these kind of things kept us tough. Ard and I usually sat on a board facing our parents near their feet.

One time our folks left us at some friends of theirs named Meyers while they went to town. Ardath told these folk she was getting new shoes for “going away” as she had only shoes to “stay home” now.

One time when we were all eating watermelon, brother Russell (5 years) wanted some and Bertrice said “Oh, no! I’m only eatin’ it, cuz it waste-ess.”

Russell less than 4 or 5 years old used to like our little yellow ducklings on the farm. He really loved them and we’d have to watch him as he’d pick them up and hold them with fingers around their neck and they would choke because he held them too tightly. When the duck was dead, Russell would show his father and say, “Papa, ducky seepy.” (Sleepy).

There wasn’t much money for boughten toys in those days. We improvised and made our own toys and fun which probably taught us a lot. Ard and I made a Ford car from a table leaf and an old wagon body. We wrote “Ford” on the back. That was the only kind of car there was then (1917). We would put up the tongue of the wagon (car), sit on our “car” and coast down the hill. We made a playhouse in the back of our “grainery” (where we kept grain). We had an old fashioned old couch and an old table and some chairs that had been apple crates. For a telephone we used some tin cans and lids with a longer can for the receiver which had a string attached. Of course the telephone was nailed to the wall. (This was an old fashioned wall telephone that had a crank which you rang to get central.) They in turn called your party. Many nosey neighbors would “listen in” to the real telephone conversations and get the neighborhood news.

Another thing father made us to play on was a “whirly-gig”. He cut off the top of a big tree that was in the shade. On the top of the stump he bored a deep hole. He put a long plank across the top of this stump. It also had a hole in the center to match the stump hole. He put a long bolt through the plank into the stump. We would teeter totter on this and someone would push us around like a “Merry-go-Round.”

A place we would play was up above the cow stable. The roof was low and our father would put threshed bean pods above the cow stable ceiling to keep the cows warm in winter. Then there was the high barn roof over this. This made a small enclosed room and would be go up there and play. It was a “hide-a-way” I guess.

And we also played (in the summer) in the center of a large lilac bush out near the front road.

We got a newspaper perhaps once a week in the mail. That is how we found out World War I was over. When we heard this our whole school and teacher went to town (Mesick) to celebrate. We took kettles and pans and beat on them as we paraded up and down the streets. Then we went to a place where a gunny sack dummy of Kaiser William was hung by a rope, then a fire was made under him. To get money for World War I (1918), one neighbor was appointed by a government agency to go to each home to get farmers to buy War Bonds of different denominations.

Our mother was a very kind, loving, and sensitive person. One night I (Bertrice) couldn’t get to sleep as a friend of my mother’s had died and my mother was upset. This kept me awake after retiring. Our mother came upstairs to see if we were covered and asleep. She found me still awake and I told her I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about death and dying. She quickly went downstairs and brought me up a peeled orange. (We didn’t get oranges that much and that did the “trick”. I soon was fast asleep.)

The land was poor and very sandy up where we lived, north of Cadillac, Michigan. Newly cleared woodlands raised pretty good crops – beans, potatoes, corn, grain, sorghum; but if there was little rain the crops dried up easily. Our father said either frost or lack of rain or grasshoppers seemed to get the crops so much, it was difficult to make much money. If there was a big crop of potatoes or navy beans, the prices were very low.

Father usually milked from four to six cows and had perhaps two or three horses. One horse was old and had trouble getting up if he lay down. So father wanted Ard to warn him very quickly if it looked like the horse was going to lie down. If it happened, father had a heavy canvas rigging that he put around the horse’s belly and back. This canvas aid was attached to a pulley that was fastened to the ceiling beams so the horse could be raised to a standing position. Father would hurry and put this on the horse before he lay down if possible.

Snow got very deep in winter on the farm and Pop would shovel a tunnel from our house way down hill to the barn. When he walked down to milk and to do the chores all we could see of my father was the top of his hat.

As I look back you would think that our life was very crude on uninteresting and dull.

This didn’t seem to be so. Country folk at that time were very sociable, kind, considerate of one another’s families. They were helpful, generous with the little they had. They were so busy with their many tasks just to keep food on the table and keep the household going. Most everything was homemade, even presents, largely. We had many picnics, wedding parties, Sunday School and church socials, the County Fair where farmers and their wives took their best produce and homemade fancy work and competed for prizes. Family members were close. Many things were done together as a family. The neighbors were so cooperative. Men came and helped when the barn was to be raised or house built or threshing or butchering to be done. And the women came to help with the cooking. We would have taffy pulls at the neighbors’. At one I remembered a little girl getting the taffy stuck to her hands. She put it on the floor and stepped on it to get loose.

One neighbor owned the first car in the neighborhood. His wife was very proud and sat very tall as she rode down the road looking to the right and to the left hoping people would notice her. But one day, the same woman invited my sister Ardath and I to ride the Ford thirty miles to the County Fair for the day at Cadillac, Michigan.

One man cut hair well and children and men would walk to his house and he cut a head of hair at almost no expense. Women didn’t have short hair then.

The schoolteachers usually boarded at one of the more prosperous farmer’s places.

Sometimes a covered and enclosed wagon of gypsies would stop down the road. They wore loud, loose clothes with gaudy earrings and scarves tied around their heads. They’d come to the door and beg for foodstuff like potatoes, eggs, vegetables, fruit, chickens, etc.

Sometimes while one gypsy was at the front door talking, another was out back stealing something. They would stop off in the woods, cook and sleep and then go on down the road.

Another visitor might be tramps or peddlers. They (one at a time) would come to the door and ask to have a meal and perhaps stay all night. They would have a pack on their back. They would open the pack and if they were in the mood and had been fed or housed for the night, perhaps give the woman some of their goods. If the food was not liked they would complain about it.

Another thing I must put down is a surprise we gave our parents. They had gone to town. Ardath and I thought we’d surprise them when they returned. We took off the glass shades from the kerosene lamps to wash while they were still hot from use, as they would get so blackened up from burning. And as we put them in cold water, of course they broke in many pieces. Our parents were really surprised. We probably got a good spanking or scolding, too. I can’t remember.

I also remember the most sad time when our whole family, mother, grandmother and uncle had the flu at once. It was the day before Xmas, December 24, 1918. Father Guy and Grandpa Chubb had gone to Muskegon, Michigan to work in the war plant for the winter. Men with children were excused from war service, but must work in war plants. Our mother and us four children were living with my Grandma Chubb for the winter. My uncle, Ira Chubb, about twenty years, was still at home there, too. We all got the flu. At that time nobody knew what to do for the flu, not even the doctor. It was a new disease. They only gave us quinine. We had one nurse, but she was to care for my Grandmother in her room. My Uncle Ira was sick in his bedroom. Mother lay in her bed in another bedroom. We four children 2, 5, 10, 12 years old lay on a common cot with both sides up in the same room. We were all so sick, but there was no one to help us. Several times Ardath, my older sister, and I (Bertrice) sat up in bed and tried to dress so we could get up, but we always had to lay back down – we were too sick.

Finally, my father Guy and my Grandfather Chubb came home because they too, had contracted the flu. My father was real sick, but he stayed up and tried to cook something and help us. Of course there was no bathroom facilities then and water had to be pumped outside. Mother was pregnant (about four months) and she died Christmas Eve. Father Guy woke us children up and asked if we wanted to see our mother before they took her away. We children sat up and looked across at her. Her mouth was wide open. That was the last time we saw our dear mother. I hope to see her in Heaven some day.

One half hour later that night in the same house my Mother’s Mother (Grandma Chubb) died, too, just one-half hour before midnight. The next day (Christmas) my Uncle Ira died in the same house. So the three of them in less than twenty-four hours.

There were no funerals, they didn’t allow them for fear the flu epidemic would spread, People were dying like flies, We lived on the bend of the road to the cemetery. The road had continual processions going to the cemetery. We saw it all.

We had a bleak Xmas Day. It was snowing hard with large fleecy snowflakes coming down, I remember I stood at the window watching the snowflakes falling so gently and thought of a poem we had memorized a short time before at school there in Copemish, Michigan. It was called “The First Snowfall.”

The First Snowfall

The snow had begun in the gloaming,

And busily through the night

Had been heaping field and levy

With a silence deep and white.

Up spoke our own little Mable saying

“Father who makes it snow?”

And I told of the good All Father

Who cares for us here below.

Then with eyes that saw not,

I kissed her and she kissing back could not know

That my kiss was given to her sister

Lying deep in the new fallen snow

I can still remember this Christmas so vividly - no Christmas - no Christmas gifts - no Christmas dinner - only loneliness and helplessness. I guess at that time we didn't think of what day it was.

Bertrice has only three things to remember her mother and early life by. I still have a framed oil painting my mother gave me for Christmas one year. It was a picture of a mother rocking her baby to sleep in a little old fashioned cradle. The frame of the picture was of dark wood. Another item is a dainty kerosene lamp we used to carry up to bed when we were young. The third item to remember her parents by is a covered plain glass butter dish that Mother used. I found a large glass water pitcher like Mother used at a flea market and bought it. It matches the butter dish.

Although I have few material things to remember Mother by, but I shall never forget those happy days when we had our Mother and we were all together.

Father lived until 93-1/2 years and I cared for him a great deal after he lost one leg above the knee. He married again after several years, but Grandmother Leffel raised us children from the time mother died until we were grown. Ardath and I helped her all we could. She must have been sixty-five years old when she took us to care for us. She worked hard, taught us the Christian way of life, was strict - when she said "no" it wasn't "perhaps". Even then she lived to be 86 years. My younger sister Joyce (Passage) who was two years old at our mother's death died at the age of fifty-two years in San Francisco, California.

In later years we three remaining children have been real close and the best of friends.

The Saddest Day I Know

By Bertrice Hallett, July 18, 1952 (c) 2010 by Cathryn Hondros

October, that melancholy time of the year, had rolled around again. The harvest was in. Soon the beginning of the end of 1948 would be upon us.

That October the third was different from others, although at the time it seemed the same. A good Sunday dinner was enjoyed by all and our happy family had retired to the living room to “sleep off” that heavy meal.

Presently, one by one, we roused. My husband, as if by premonition, began planning with my son which crops they would raise next year. We also were planning how we might finish our upstairs into bedrooms. Our daughter chimed in once in a while. Usually our children left after Sunday dinner so as to be with their young friends; but it seemed as though something was holding our happy family together for one last time.

My husband left for the farm in the morning. “What time is it?” I asked. “Ten minutes to seven.” That voice sounded no different from what it had in the past eighteen years.

As I left for school that morning the sky seemed bright. There were no signs of a threatening storm. Yet glancing at the weeping willow tree, I noticed the helplessness of the weeping branches bashed about by the wind.

This Monday at school passed as usual. So far it was not “bluer” than any other Mondays. About twenty minutes after one the telephone rang six terrifying times. This startled me, as this was the first time it had rung since being installed the Friday before.

I was to get an older pupil from the upper room to watch mine and go home immediately. On reaching the main building, my principal pulled my car over to the side of the road. “Shall I pick up my children here?” I asked.

“Yes, there they are waiting by the road.”

My daughter, already broken down completely, was sobbing her heart out.

“Shall I drive?” my son asked in that soft, low voice. Only my daughter’s sobs broke that awful stillness.

Optimistically, I tried to reassure her. “He’ll be all right. They probably have a doctor. Maybe he’s at the hospital.”

“No, he is dead,” my daughter tried to tell me. Outwardly calm, but inwardly deeply shaken, my son agreed, “Yes, mom, he is dead.”

“Frozen” and “numb” we managed to get into the house. Mother(-in-law) and friends were waiting to tell the news.

On the bed, my husband lay dead of a sudden heart attack.

Helpless, now, like the weeping willow, we went mechanically about the expected duty of making funeral arrangements.

Yet we, too, like the willow, were able to stand firm, because we were deeply rooted in God’s “river of waters.”

Bertrice's "Memories of West Bloomfield Township"

• Note: Bertrice was asked by the West Bloomfield Township library of Oakland Co., Michigan to write a history of her life there as she was a long time resident. This text is transcribed from their website.
• Note: Bertrice's bio in the West Bloomfield Township Archive was the subject of a contest to teach young students about the library. A snip of the webpage is attached in her photos. What fun!

As an Oakland County Normal graduate of 1927 I came out to apply for my first teaching position at the Hosner School-a one room country school. The school was located about a mile from Orchard Lake Rd. west on W. Maple Rd. across the road and a little to the west of today’s Schulers Restaurant. The school board was composed of Wm Young the director, Leo DeConick moderator, and Mr. Hassel Treasurer.

I was hired for a 9 mo. school year for $120 per month salary. Of course I was to do my own janitor work. Teachers built their own fires daily in the stoves and swept out the classroom at night. Pupils carried in a wood supply from the woodshed and drinking water from the hand pumps. With no inside plumbing toilets were small outside buildings.

Board and room was offered me by Catherine and Ed Weber from $30 per month. Ed, a good stone mason by trade, had built his own home of cut stone. One thing we enjoyed throughout the year was the natural stone fireplace. Ed Weber was the stone mason who had erected the large stone memorial to soldiers killed in the war. This memorial is located in Keego Harbor at Cass and Orchard Lake Rds. Weber also did work on the Kirk of the Hills church.

Cars were less plentiful then and I walked the half mile to and from school each day down W. Maple Rd. a one lane dirt road which had lots of chuck holes.

After laying out the school work for eight grades and then sweeping out the school room, I started for my boarding place after dark.

/ School buses were not yet used and my 28 pupils ranging from beginners to the eight grade walked long distances in all kinds of weather carrying their lunch pails. They didn’t have to wait out on the playground, but came directly in and warmed themselves around the stove.

Some of my students were Denton Hassel, Robert and Stuart Young and Elsa Larson all of Orchard Lake Rd. Kenneth Randall, Donald Dickie and Marie Parent of N. Farmington and Edward Trebelcock, Royce and Coral Mary Long, Harley Chamberlain and Cecil Rhodes of W. Maple Rd. The North Farmington Rd. students were Arnold Shultz, Edna, Margaret, Helen and Kenneth MacGregor.

Many of my students were large for their age. When school was out in May, one boy who had started late and repeated several grades was 19 yrs. old and I was only 20 (twenty) One of my larger pupils, Kenneth Randall rode his Shetland pony to and from school. He had saddle bags on the pony with apples and grain. At school he tied the pony in the woodshed and at noon he fed his pony from the saddlebags. Often he had to remain after school because of unfinished work or for disciplinary reasons. When dismissed to go home he would become fearful because of what his uncle would say or do. (He live with his uncle.) Then he would make his pony gallop all the way down N. Farmington Rd.

Some teachers who later taught at Hosner School were Lillian Dickie (wife of Bruce) Nellie Frantz who boarded with us, Mrs. Potere, Mrs. Husted, Mrs. De Cou and Miss Nichols.

I taught Mrs. Dickie’s son Donald and she taught my children Douglas and Nancy. I served on this same school board for many years, helping to pick the teachers and once the difficult job of personally dismissing one.

The Hosner School was used until Consolidation became a popular thing. Hosner then was closed permantly. It was stipulated in the land contract that when Hosner was no longer used for school purposed it was to revert back to the Hosners. Hosner stood empty for some time. Then it was rented to a college graduate who invited in some of his associates. They really ruined it inside by their filthy living and writing on its walls. In fact it was set afire. Neighbors called the police when things became so bad. Later Twp. Fireman came and burned it to the ground. It couldn’t be reclaimed. The Hosner parents are buried on the farm to the rear of the school building. Traveling south on N. Farmington Rd. we could look to the left and see the two tombstones in the middle of the field. Also, to this day as you travel west on Maple Rd. slow down as you are approaching Schuler’s Restaurant and look across the road, you will see the cement porch of the Hosner School of long ago.

There were also other one-room country schools nearby. The North Famington School was on N. Farmington Rd., Green School was across the road from the Howard Green residence on Green Rd. and the Eagle School on Middlebelt Rd. near 14 Mile Rd.

Country schools were often used as a place for social gatherings. Each Christmas teacher would plan a nice program with all students practicing and participating. Parents, relatives, and friends were invited to enjoy the well prepared event. Also sometimes there were box or shadow socials, picnics in the Spring, and the yearly school board meeting was held there. Neighbors became acquainted and were interested in each other. They shared good and bad times.

Mr. E. J. Lederle was Country School Commissioner and he told me at a teacher’s meeting that he had walked from Farmington to Pontiac Central High, as a boy, to gain a High School Education.

Transportation was limited at this time. There had been a trolley line from Pontiac to Farmington down Orchard Lake Rd., but all that remained was the track on the East side of Orchard Lake Rd.

This W. Bloomfield neighborhood was an excellent place for a single “schoolmarm” to come to as there were at least 12 young bachelors who lived nearby. They included Harold and Russ Dickie of Orchard Lake Rd. Lyle and Alex Dickie of the Hosner farm, Leo and Emmett DeConick of West Maple farm, Walter and Karl Weber farmers at the southwest corner of W. Maple and N. Farmington Rd., Fred C. and Frank Hallett of W. Maple Rd. Ward Eagle of 14 Mile and Joe DeConick of Orchard Lake Rd.

Some of these bachelors had a basketball team and played other teams at the West Bloomfield Twp. Hall auditorium. They also met for bachelor parties about once a month. Frank Hallett became the Twp. Clerk for many years after retiring from farming. Fred C. Hallett became my husband in June 1929.

Our brick home was built by the MacGregor brothers and was completed the same fall. Its location was just west of today’s Belle Tire Co. on Maple Rd. The family home was occupied until the year of the tornado, 1976. Midas Muffler then purchased the land after the house was bulldozed into the basement and they built their business structure there.

Douglas Hallett son of Fred C. and Bertrice is the owner of West Bloomfield Heating and Air Conditioning. Nancy Hallett his sister married Tom Bath, a Detroiter, and became the mother of the twins Jill and Jane and their sister Cheryl Ann. She married Calvin Call and their baby Jonathon made me a great grandmother this past year.

Fred C. and Frank Hallett were the sons of the elder Fred Wm and Ellen Sherston Hallett. They came from Somersetshire England. They came by boat to Canada in about 1889. They married there and later came to the States and settled in W. Bloomfield Twp. Ellen the wife was a twin to Sarah Langdon of Pontiac Trail. She was born in England in 1872 and was only around 17 years when she married.

The Elder Fred Wm Hallett told me how he had worked for $1 a day as a fence builder after coming from Canada. In winter there was no fence building and he said he would go to Orchard Lake and fish to help support his family of 6 children.

The father and sons Fred and Frank farmed together about 40 yrs. After Frank retired and became Twp. Clerk, Fred continued farming until his sudden death in 1948.

Over at North Farmington Cemetery on N. FarmingtonRd. near 13 Mile you will find three Fred Halletts tombstones: the Elder Fred Wm. Hallett, the son, Fred C. and the great grandson Fred Wallace Hallett, son of Douglas and Arlene.

A special landmark of W. Bloomfield Twp. was the Stone Front Garage at the cor. of W. Maple and Orchard Lake Rd., built by Joe and Anthony DeConick. One side of the garage was a grocery store and above the garage was living quarters. This large building served the community for many years. After Joe and Tony retired, Ward DeConick and Lyle Dickie were in charge and finally the Japanese Okimoto Bros. took over. Years ago I saw this building demolished and hauled way in ½ day. When the stone front of the bldg fell it shook our house 2 lots away. For some time a gas station operated on this corner and since the 1976 tornado Pearle Vision is there.

On the south side of the garage was Ray’s Hamburger Stand where you could buy the best hamburgers there were for 25 [cents] each.

A mile south at the end of Northwestern Ave. was Lucille’s and Lawrence’s Brown Grocery. The elder Ed Brown was the butcher.

Bruce and Edmund Dickie ran a milk station at the northeast corner of North Farmington and 14 Mile Rds. Since W.Bloomfield was largely a farming area the farmers needed a storage place where they brought their milk daily. A Detroit Creamery came and picked up the supply of milk daily and took it to the city for processing and bottling.

Leo Render and son Harold picked up calves and beef cattle from surrounding farms and trucked them into Detroit stockyards and packing house.

Mr. Hassel and son Denton bought eggs from farmers and sold them wholesale to dealers.

There was a man we called “Old Nick,” who operated a grocery “on wheels” and kept people supplied with Miscellaneous items.

We were also priveledged to have a Farmington Bakery bring bread and other baked goods to our door.

Sometimes a Detroit Fruit and Vegetable Produce Co. would stop at the Stone Front Corner so neighbors could get fresh fruits and vegetables out of season.

The farmers in the neighbors raised food for their dairy herds and also cared for large orchards.

Leo and Emmett DeConick had a very large apple and pear orchard. Some years they hired Jamacians to help at picking time. They built a large Storage and Sales building near the northwest corner of W. Maple and Orchard Lake Rd. Later it was sold and is now the Confetti Restaurant.

Howard and brother Ernest Green owned the big apple, pear and peach orchard near Walnut Lake Rd. between Orchard Lake Rd. and Green Rd. It extended most of the distance down to the W. Bloomfield Library. They built a storage and Sales Bldg on Orchard Lake Rd. They had excellent fruits.

Fred and Frank Hallett had a dairy farm and a good sized orchard and stored apples in a cave like bldg. built partly underground.

Many farmers sorted & graded their best fruit, loaded it on trucks the night before, then got up and left for the Eastern Market in Detroit, perhaps they started off as early as 3 a.m. Sometimes their best fruit brought only 50 [cents] to $1 per bushel for apples. Dealers would buy several bus[bushels?] at a time.

Next door north of the present Beef Eater Restaurant was the home of another Frank Hallett. His wife Mable was a cousin of Fred C. and Frank Hallett. Their children were Florence, Lillian, Helen, Doris, and a son Alfred.

Lillian Hallett married Charles Herrand of Pontiac and operated “Pontiac Rescue Mission” for 40 years.

Near this Hallett Residence was the home of John and Edna Voorheis and sons Jack, Carol and Ralph. John besides farming some worked for the Rd. Commission. Edna an office worker first was at Stainless Steel and then at Pontiac General Hospital. Edna served on the Hosner School board and was an active worker at W. Bloomfield Baptist Church before moving to Sylvan Village after selling their home in W. Bloomfield.

Across the road from the DeConick farm and a little to the East on West Maple Rd. was what was called the “Goat Farm.” People came from long distance to purchase the goat milk which was supposed to be an aid to people with digestive problems.

Ward DeConick and wife Ruth with three daughters lived east of Orchard Lake Rd. on W. Maple between Orchard Lake Rd. & Middlebelt Rd. Ward was on Hosner School Board and also ran the Stone Front Garage with brother-in-law Lyle Dickie. His wife Ruth, was a sister of Dr. Aschenbrenner’s wife. Ward’s mother was a sister of John Voorheis. When I came out to teach in 1927 many people went to Farmington to shop, to bank, to pay utility bills.

Before I mentioned that the bachelor’s basketball team was given permission to use the town hall gym.

Another group of Christian people felt the need of Christian training. They organized and were given permission to use the town hall auditorium for Sunday School Servics each Sunday P.M. I brought my children to this S. School and taught the Nursery Class as early as 1934 or 1935. Later this group reorganized and built their own place of worship at Green and Orchard Lake Rds. Membership was small and resources were limited, but in faith members and friends donated their time, their services, and money. The building was soon completed. The group called the church-Salvation Harbor, then W. Bloomfield Community Church and now for many years has been known as the West Bloomfield Baptist Church. The Lord has blessing us and presently Sunday morning and evening worship services with Wed. Night Fellowship, Bible Study, Prayer and Calling are led by Pastor Jack E. Lewis, his wife, Helen and three sons Dana, Timothy and Gregory complete the family.

Oakland Country Sewer and Drain Commissioner asked for and received a lien on our property so that they might put a sewer through. It was brought in from the south, crossed Orchard Lake Rd. at the creek and came the total distance of my acre lot until it reached W. Maple Rd. This was called the DeConick Sewer after the DeConicks who previously owned the land.

I can remember when the Canopy Restaurant people came around to get our signatures in order to get a permit to build. They received permission to build and their restaurant on Orchard Lake Rd. came over to the east side of my property. Soon after other stores and businesses came one by one.

Belle tire built their stone just 16” from my property. This very tall cement block structure almost completely shut off my view of the east.

After the sewer went through on my property and stores came in, They tied into the sewer. Each time my lot was torn up & I had a bad time trying to get things replace as they were before. Businesses never respect the other persons rights I soon found out, neither did their patrons. They would brazenly drive and park on private property.

With the coming of business to our corner, we were plagued by many break-ins. I experienced 2 robberies. Catherine Weber told me she finally put up a sign at her back door telling robbers to come in, “people like you have taken everything of value we own.” Emmett DeConick lost his life after he was beaten to death by the butt of a shotgun. Katherine DeConick was shot twice in the eye at the same time. She finally crawled out and got help. Later Leo DeConick married his nurse and built across from me. Their yard was all lit up and their dogs were tied outside and barking but robbers came in took a fur coat and their station wagon after treating them badly (Leo was in a wheelchair).

Don Green told me that they moved away from Orchard Lake Rd. (near W. Bloomfield Twp. Library) because of too many break-ins.

All the time I was teaching and away in the daytime we seldom locked our back door. It wasn’t necessary. But after the place became commercial, they came in even if the door were locked.

Things have really changed. If old timers, who have passed on, were permitted to return to their old neighborhood they wouldn’t recognize it today.

All of our neighbors have moved out. Phil DeConick once told me they were force to move. Traffic had become so bad at the corner he was fearful one of his children would be hurt in the traffic.

In my last years at West Bloomfield I could lie in bed in the early morning and determine the time of day by the noise of the traffic going by and I was back from the hwy.

Even one Sunday when my husband was still alive we had gone away for the day. On returning from the south we rounded the corner, stopped and waited for a chance to turn into our driveway. We waited & waited. We couldn’t make it but had to drive on by some distance, turn around and come back on our side of the road in order to turn in our own driveway.

So our location became less desirable as time went by. It seemed a continual struggle. Private dwellings were changed to commercial. My taxes were twice as much per year as our property had cost in the beginning. How could a retired schoolteacher pay over $2000 taxes each year? Would there by more robberies?

I had wanted to enjoy my old home for a few years before moving. But I knew I had to go. I was just putting it off.

Finally the 1976 Tornado struck our neighborhood. In a few seconds it was all over.

My decision had been made for me! As we looked our home over we knew right away our house couldn’t be repaired and things replaced as before. Builders just didn’t use those good materials anymore nor did they do their work as carefully.

We left as quickly as possible. My present location is somewhat similar to what it was in West Bloomfield years ago.

I can watch the sun rise and set once more. Each morning I hear wild geese honking as they fly from the tall pines to the lake for the day. In the evening they go back honking as before.

Wild rabbits scamper to and fro. Song birds arn’t afraid to sit and sing their song of thanks to their creator. We have relatively clean air to breathe.

Every now and then I get a trifle homesick as something reminds me of the way W. Bloomfield Twp. was when I came out as a young schoolteacher at Hosner School. I must admit I loved the time I spent in West Bloomfield. I loved the people I lived and worked with for 47 years. We seemed to have everything we needed close at hand. I still enjoy shopping down there. Each Sunday I drive 19 miles each way to attend Services at West Bloomfield Baptist Church.

We old timers had much to enjoy then. We also gave much of ourselves for others. But the township contributed their share too, to give what was needed to make for us, a good kind of life-a place where we could bring up our families in peace and contentment.

I’ll close now as I am reminded of a saying that seems appropriate for the occasion: “Enjoy each moment of everyday of your life; for what is today will never be again in exactly the same way.” How true!

So three cheers for Old West Bloomfield. I salute and congratulate you for your many years of service to your people.
by Bertrice Hallett (Mrs. Fred C. Hallett), May 1983 ^[2]

Remembrance from a Former Student

<Note: Several years ago I wrote a letter to a man I believed to be a former student of Bertrice Hallett's. She had spoken of him as one of her most extraordinary students. I was delighted to receive this gem of a letter back from him.>

March 2, 2010

Dear Cathryn,

How nice of you to recognize your Grandmother Bertrice Hallett. She was indeed a remarkable woman and dedicated teacher.

Mrs. Hallett was my first grade teacher at Twin Beach Elementary School over 40 years ago. She maintained a structured classroom (rows of desks, traditionally) and what I most remember is her teaching us how to read. For some reason, I don't remember my other elementary teachers as I did Mrs. Hallett. She taught us with firm expectations and with rigor, never frustrating all children, but gently encouraging, instructing the bright kids to excel even more while not embarrassing the more challenged. We frequently got to take turns setting on her lap which was a treat and read to her.

Besides teaching academics, she wiped tears, too. I remember vividly one day coming in from recess crying that no one would play with me. She lined up everyone and asked who would play with me next recess. Lots of kids became my friend as a result and I never had that problem again.

One chuckle: Mrs. Hallett had a double chin. On the last day of class I asked her if I could tap it. She smiled, leaned down and I satisfied my first grade urge to flap her skin back and forth. (Embarrassing now, but she understood developmental curiosity.)

She visited me once after she retired when I moved home to go to law school (early 80's). The only teacher to have shown such interest a truly remarkable woman and I am grateful for her influence in my life.

With gratitude and respect,

1976 Tornado: Greater West Bloomfield Historical Society, by B. Brown

By Buzz Brown, Greater West Bloomfield Hisorical Society: Sweeping across the old DeConick farmland the twister reached down to demolish the home of Bertrice Hallett at 5725 Maple. Hallett, a retired schoolteacher, had lived there since 1929. Next, the funnel smashed into Belle Tire, skeletonizing the structure before pulverizing Danny's Marathon while five people cowered inside. Chunks of the businesses and their interior equipment were then spewed in all directions as lethal missiles. Accompanying the airborne debris were Belle's "60% sale tires" now winging their way over the intersection like a flock of black frisbees.

Census

• West Bloomfield Twp., Oakland Co., Michigan, "United States Census, 1940," index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/K4PH-K7F : accessed 20 Jun 2013), Bertrice Halleth in entry for Fred Halleth, 1940.
• West Bloomfield Twp., Oakland Co., Michigan, "United States Census, 1930," index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/XQ1Y-3GZ : accessed 20 Jun 2013), Bertrice I Hallett in entry for Fred C Hallett, 1930.
• Oakland Co., Michigan, "United States Census, 1920," index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/MZQT-MLX : accessed 20 Jun 2013), Bertrice Leffel in entry for Jacob Leffel, 1920.
• Springville Twp., Wexford Co., Michigan, "United States Census, 1910," index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/MLRN-LFW : accessed 20 Jun 2013), Beatrice I. Laffle in entry for Guy W, 1910.

Death

Bertrice passed away on 10 Jul 1988 in St. Joseph Mercy Hospital, Pontiac, Oakland Co., Michigan, USA, aged 80. ^[3]

Burial

North Farmington Cemetery, Farmington Hills, Oakland County, Michigan, USA, Plot: 8-005-2 ^[4]

Bertrice Irene Leffel Hallett (27 Apr 1908–10 Jul 1988)

- Find A Grave: Memorial #101413787

Fred Charles Hallett (17 Sep 1898–4 Oct 1948) (spouse)

- Find A Grave: Memorial #101413868

Funeral Card

FROM FUNERAL CARD Funeral: Wednesday, 7/13/1988 11:00 a.m. Funeral services from Riverside Chapel Clergyman officiating: Rev. Jack Lewis Final resting place: North Farmington Cemetery Jack V. Sent Funeral Home

Hallett, Bertrice I.; of Clarkston formerly of West Bloomfield; on July 10, 1988; in her 80th year; beloved wife of the late Fred; dear mother of Mrs. Nancy Bath of Redford and Douglas Hallett of Holly; loving sister of Ardith Dorgelo and Russell Leffel; fondly remembered by seven grandchildren and one great grandchild. Bertrice was a charter member of West Bloomfield Baptist Church and prior to retirement was a teacher of the Walled Lake Consolidated School System. Friends may call at Riverside Chapel Jack V. Seng Funeral Home 7 to 9pm Monday and 3 to 5 and 7 to 9pm Tuesday. Service in the chapel 11am Wednesday with Reverend Jack Lewis officiating. Final resting place North Farmington Cemetery.
Oakland Press", Pontiac, Michigan, July 12, 1988 ^[5]

Sources

1. ↑ http://copemishhistoricalsociety.blogspot.com/2013_02_01_archive.html
2. ↑ Hallett, Bertrice (Mrs. Fred C. Hallett) written on May 1983
3. ↑ "Michigan, Death Index, 1971-1996," index, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/VZ1C-ZRT : accessed 21 Apr 2013), Bertrice I Hallett, 10 Jul 1988
4. ↑ Find a Grave, database and images (https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/101413787/bertrice_irene-hallett: accessed 29 Apr 2024), memorial page for Bertrice Irene Leffel Hallett (27 Apr 1908–10 Jul 1988), Find A Grave: Memorial #101413787, citing North Farmington Cemetery, Farmington Hills, Oakland County, Michigan, USA; Maintained by Pris (contributor 47307503).
5. ↑ Obituary: Oakland Press", Pontiac, Michigan, July 12, 1988.

• Pages from Bertrice's Bible

Acknowledgments

• Thanks to Cathryn Hondros for starting this profile.