Interview of Edith (Jadwiga Bakula) Bourbeau (1938-2023) of Montague City, Massachusetts by Sara Campbell
Edited by Pam Hodgkins 3/21/2025 & Jeanne Sojka 5/30/2025
Sara Campbell 0:07
My name is Sara Campbell. On April 7 1994, I interviewed Mrs. Edie Bourbeau, In Montague City, Massachusetts. She’s the youngest sister of the subject of my previous interview, Walter Bakula. And as I expected, her memories were quite different than his of growing up in Turners Falls on G Street in the Patch. Unfortunately, we had problems with a microphone and I lost a portion of our discussion. So I’ll try to summarize some of the things that she said to me in the early part of our interview. She told me that her parents had come from Poland. They were born in 1895 and 1896. She names the towns they came from at the end of the tape. Her father had come at the age of 17, because he wanted to avoid getting drafted into the Russian army. He first went to Pennsylvania where I believe he had a brother. But she said in his words, he figured he’d be shoveling coal in the next life and didn’t want to spend this life doing it as well. So he moved up to Turners Falls, where he had a sister, and gotta start here. He met his wife to be at a christening in Millers Falls. She had come initially to Utica, New York, where she had a sister. She worked in a factory, I think, a shirt factory or a collar factory in Utica. But since she had been sick, she had lost her job. And she subsequently came to Millers Falls to stay with another relative. During the early years of their marriage, they lived in Colrain and worked on a farm. And I asked how they, you know, come from here to there, and she said that word gets around at a christening or what have you. Somebody needed some help on the farm. So they lived in Colrain for a few years, had a couple other children up there. She told me a story that her mother had said she was afraid living in the woods like that. And her father had given her a gun and said, “Well, there you go, you know if anybody comes around, just shoot him.” And the mother said, “but I’m afraid of guns. And he said, Don’t worry, it doesn’t work.” They lived in Turners Falls. Her father worked in the mills had various jobs depending on who had work at a given time. They bought a house on G Street. There were seven children, in all, and Edie was the baby. There were, I think 14 years between Edie and her next sibling. She said people thought that she was an afterthought or an accident. But she said I was very well planned. Because two years before that her mother had been pregnant and had had an accident and lost the baby. Evidently, she was taking a cow to pasture and the cow’s chain had got caught up on her wedding ring, she said and Edie’s mother was dragged by this cow and went into labor, had the baby and the baby died. And the doctor told Mrs. Bakula that the best way to get herself all sorted out on the inside was to get pregnant again. And Edie was the result of that pregnancy. So she says she was very well planned for although she wishes there weren’t such a gap because she was the baby in the house and she was alone while her other brothers and sisters were growing up and leaving. I asked her why do you think your parents were able to buy a house when other people in the neighborhood rented directly across the street from their house. There was a tenement with several apartments in it. She said my mother was a very thrifty person. She said they would pick blueberries and can them and sell them. They always had a garden in the back. They would do the best they could with the food they had making bread or using vegetables. They had had some farm animals previously but not in Edie’s memory anyway. And she said they just save their money and they were determined to do well. And they got this house of their own. She talked quite a bit about the neighborhood on G Street, named quite a few names and I’m, I’m sorry, I’ve lost them. She told a wonderful story that they had in their house, a bathtub. And that was evidently a rarity. The apartment building across the street had a couple of toilets but no bathtub. So evidently, there was quite a parade on. I don’t know if it was Saturday, or they had quite a parade through the house. Everybody wanted to use their bathtub, and they had cousins in the neighborhood. And she listed off everybody who wanted to take a bath at their house and how they would boil water on the stove. And the house was full of steam all day as they were trying to keep putting hot water in the bathtub. And she named one woman that lived across the street. She says no, she didn’t come over. She said she doesn’t take baths. The impression I got was there was very strong neighborhood feeling. The neighborhood would have quite a few picnics. They were always you know, they take some food and go down by the river and some drink and they may be all stumbling home together. But they were definitely holding each other up. And they were carrying all the kids and wagons and watermelon in a wagon and whatever they had to push and carry. They’d be down there in the river, the what they call the Rock Dam, which is on the Connecticut River side of that little peninsula. And she talked about swimming all the time. They’d be in the canal. They learned to swim quickly. And a sister would come home from work and she’d be asking to be taken out swimming when she was a little girl. As I say she mentioned quite a few Polish families in the neighborhood. It was a heavily Polish area. There were some French families the Croteaus, few Irish families remain the Shanahan’s. There was an Italian family across the way the name was Bompastore I think she said, but his wife was Polish. There were a couple of interesting stories about how her family came to be here. Her father when he was getting ready to come over had an infection in his eye and he knew that could be grounds for being turned back at Ellis Island. And he was very worried about it. He tried some different cures or folk medicines and she said a I guess a gypsy told him that the best way to cure it was to urinate on a handkerchief and hold that over his eye. And sure enough, he was cured and he made it through Ellis Island. Her father’s sister who came before he did was not originally intending to come to this country. It was another sister who had been granted a passport and was getting ready to come and who had died. So the second sister, which would be Edie’s aunt, took over her identity, used her name, took the ticket and the passport and came to this country. So the whole time she was living here she was using her sister’s name. I expect she was always a little fearful somebody would find out she was the wrong person. But once the ticket was bought and the trip was arranged, they weren’t going to let that opportunity to get away. So the second sister had come.
Edie Bourbeau 8:48
Probably 20 years ago he had leukemia. But there was another prominent man that came out of the Patch. Mr. Piskor who was a dean of the Dean of University of… I can’t remember but he was the dean of the University [St. Lawrence University]. There was Dr. Olchowski, who was a dentist.
Sara Campbell 9:26
He was on our list so he was talking to
Edie Bourbeau 9:30
His parents were the ones that had the Polish bakery down the Patch. His sister was very conscious of Polish heritage and everything but she’s passed on. She even went so far as to get some Polish movies at the theaters in Greenfield, the theater in Greenfield. But she’s passed on. She has a daughter Martha Fiore, Fiore that has the laundromat in Greenfield on Federal Street. You might want to speak with her to give you some information on her grandparents or so. What else can we touch on Sara?
Sara Campbell 10:47
What got you interested in going back to Poland? Is that something that you’ve always thought about, because that’s the way you were raised?
Edie Bourbeau 10:58
Well, my mother had her, her brother was still living. And I knew that there was relatives over there. And once I went, I went with Eddie Pleasant to Poland, in 1979, and since then I have returned four times, five times in all I’ve been back. Things are very different. They’re from when they were in 1979, especially money. But of course, now they have their freedom, they are now no longer under the Communist rule. So but things really aren’t much better. But it’s only been what two years since they’ve been on, on their own – takes a long time. And the Polish people – they’re very jealous of one another. And they’re back biters. It’s not nice to say but it’s true. Instead of helping you when you’re down, he’ll give you a kick and push your further into the hole or whatever. They’re very cutting. There are some very good people, of course, but as a rule people, the Polish people are very, very cutting. They don’t want to help one another. And they don’t stick by one another. And they’re always scheming to get ahead. And that’s the way they had to under the Communist rule. It is if you knew somebody who knew how to get this, or how to get that, always scheming to get something, and they get it done. And they get it by scheming. So whether it’s a survival thing, I don’t know, but just can’t turn that off. No, no, no.
Sara Campbell 13:35
You must feel good that you had a chance to learn so much.
Speaker 2 13:40
I’ve had a lot of compliments on my Polish. I can write it. And I can read it. But I’m very slow at it – takes me two hours to write a letter. But I speak fluently. And I’ve had a lot of compliments in Poland, people would ask me, where did I come from in Poland? Or what year did I leave to come to the United States and then you know, decide to come back and visit my homeland. And I have to say no, that I was born in the United States. I’m very proud of the fact that my mother and father gave us the base basic Polish. We had to go to Polish school when we were kids, which didn’t amount to too much. But you got your catechism in and because I could speak Polish. There was a Mrs. Rose Brzozowy who is now living in Connecticut with her son. I always always got nailed to partake in the program that they would have at the two suppers that the church would put on. One was in mother at Mother’s Day and the other was in the in the fall when we would have a harvest supper. And I don’t think I was six years old. But I had to get up and recite a poem. I know it by heart, thanks to my mother, who was patient to teach me. And I can remember getting up on stage and saying this poem in Polish, and I said the first line [speaks Polish]. Which mean “ last night, I didn’t sleep very well.” And I was coached by Mrs. Brzozowy
that I was supposed to take my head, you know? And say the first line [repeats Polish phrase]. Well, when I said that I was only six years old, everybody started to laugh. I didn’t know whether to run off the stage, or stay there or what? So when they finally calmed down, I continued to say the poem, I don’t remember the rest of the lines. But anyway, I said the poem, and I did my curtsy. And I left the stage. Well everybody was after Mrs. Brzozowy that I should do the poem again. So I had to at the end of the program after the girls, couple of girls sang the song “Mother,” and another couple of girls said another couple of poems in English, mine was in Polish. Then I had to go back out on the stage. And the funny part of it is I can picture Mr. Pogoda who was from Gill. He had a goatee and glasses, I believe. Well, I thought he was gonna fall out of his chair when I said that I you know that I hadn’t slept that night. And it’s ironic because my husband and I chum around him around with his son and his wife. And I said, Boy, your father was the first one to give out the biggest Haha, you know, when I was out on stage. And another time I was asked to say a poem by Father Skoniecki’s brother- in-law from Northfield, who taught school, Polish school. And it was on a Sunday that they had this supper. And I said to my mother, that this is the day that the supper is and she said, “No, it isn’t. It’s next week.” I went to school Sunday, Polish school, which was at the old Eighth building, across from what is now the Elks and the Knights of Columbus building. The school is no longer there. I went to school the next day, and Mr. Zebert says to me, “where were you to say your poem?” I said, “Mr. Zebert, I told my mother that it was yesterday that I was supposed to go and say my poem and the Supper was yesterday and she said no.” So she didn’t let me go. She wouldn’t let me go. So that day, I went back and I said,” Ma, I was supposed to go and say the poem at the supper yesterday,” because Mr. Zebert asked where I was. So, Mr. Zebert taught Polish school. Pan Sojka, taught Polish school, who was the organist in our church for many, many years. He died about 10 years ago. And he was the organist, the choir director, the president, the vice president of the choir and but when he had it, he knew his music. And the choir sang gorgeous songs. Now, I think you sing the total of four songs through the mass and they’re just ordinary hymns. Nothing spectacular.
Speaker 1 20:38
Did the church draw on a bigger area because it was a Polish church? I know you go to Deerfield. There’s a Polish church in Northampton, but it’s not as strong.
Speaker 2 20:49
The people from Gill used to come. But not but Millers Falls had originally that also was a Polish church, St. John’s. People from Northfield had their own Catholic Church so I think they stayed more. But I don’t think so. No, really. I don’t think so. I think it was mostly the Polish people from Montague who had to come because there was no Catholic church there. And of course no Polish church. But Father Skoniecki is the one that had the church built that is now Our Lady of Czestochowa, I believe it was built in 1929 and it cost $80,000 to build. Well, my father had a lot to do with that I can remember him going house to house in collecting for the roof. The original roof wasn’t very good. So they asked each family to give a donation of $600 in order to put that new tile roof which is that orange wavy tile. And I can remember going house to house with my father and he would ask for the donations and if they would sign up to pledge $600 over so many months or a period of time. What can I tell you about the church other than Skoniecki built it, had it built… they had a church which is now the Elks club but it burned down and I understand it was a beautiful church. They said that a young altar boy was responsible for that fire and he later became a priest which was Father Peter Samorajski.
Speaker 2 23:48
The windows are all donated by families and they are unique gorgeous stained glass windows
Sara Campbell 24:05
There are a lot of just ……
Edie Bourbeau 24:17
I can remember it being redecorated once, twice, and now the third time in 55 years. What else can I tell you?
Sara Campbell 24:45
Did your parents have much education?
Edie Bourbeau 24:56
My father was able to read and write but girls weren’t allowed to go to school. They didn’t need to learn how to read and write. My father was a citizen. And he got his papers. He went to night school. In he went for his What did they call it? naturalization papers. And one of the questions that they asked him,” Where is it that people go to eat?” And he named everything that he could think of. He named a lunch car, which is a diner, a restaurant, a cafe where you might get something to eat. And he missed that question. Couldn’t tell them what they wanted to hear. He thought to himself, oh, my God, I’m not going to get my papers. Well, what they were looking for was cafeteria. But it didn’t hold him from getting his papers. He got his papers. But there’s a story behind that. Pa got his papers. And when he came home they were doing something up in the attic of the house. After that he could not find his papers saying that he was a naturalized citizen. And he was about in tears. He was frantic. He wanted those papers in his hand. So what did he do? He took the trolley car to Lake Pleasant to a fortune teller. And he said that he has misplaced his citizenship papers. Could she tell him where they were? And she said yes. But it’s gonna cost you another 50 cents. So my father gave her 50 cents. And she told him that they were under the eaves in the attic. And of course that’s when he remembered that when he came home from taking his test or exam, he had put the papers upstairs in the attic. I don’t know whether the roof was leaking, or that something was wrong with the chimney of what. But sure enough, he went home. And she had told me he found the papers just what she had said they were in the eaves. Is that hard to believe. Gotta be true. Did the trick. What else can I tell you Sara?
Sara Campbell 28:41
He was so young when he left and got what he wanted, he kind of had the American dream.
Edie Bourbeau 28:44
Yes, he did. My father. My father worked so hard that the muscles on his arms were strained. And he had big lumps. In his arms, they were like, you know, those big plumper alleys we used to play with when we were kids, those big alleys, well, they were sticking up all over his arms. And he had a bout with phlebitis and he had to be operated on to tie off the veins so that the clot wouldn’t go any further. So he said to the doctor, you take this one off of my elbow to see what it is made out of? And he says this one bothers me a little bit not much. But anyway, he says you take it off. And so the doctor did and all it was was fatty tissue, but it was because of overstrain of working so hard. And when I was in Poland my mother’s nephew has the same thing. And it’s all because it’s all they’re overworked. My brother Walter has them. And he was a hard worker, strong, hard worker. But he’s got those lumps on his arms too. What else? He loved to dance. Oh God, He loved to dance. Even to this day, people will say, Oh, how I loved to watch your mother and father dance when they would be up at the Polish club. You know, this was 40 years ago. And the ladies would come and say, Oh, come on Lena, let’s go to the dance. And she’d say I’m too tired. I worked hard all day. I don’t feel like going. And the other Mrs. Najda or Mrs. Kortz would say, but I went to the hairdresser today and I had my hair done. I feel like I want to go dance and and my father would say, ah, old woman, say go and take a bath and comb your hair and get your, you know, your best dress. And she says, he says you can have a couple of high balls with the ladies and then 10 o’clock you can go home. Well, would come half past six and she’d say, Well, I had a little bit of a nap. You know, she’s in her 60s. I guess I’ll go. Once she got there, you know, it was 11 o’clock before she started to think about going home and then the dance was over at quarter to 12. But she and the ladies would have a few drinks and a few dances and she danced with my father, and my father worked up at the club. $2 A night. He would get in a few beers – carrying beer from the refrigerator downstairs, or whiskey or something from the cellar upstairs to the club.
Sara Campbell 32:41
Saying people are different.
Edie Bourbeau 32:43
No they had they had Larry Chesky from Holyoke. They used to have, Louis Dusseault from Ware, there was a couple of bands from Chicopee. Ray Henry used to play he’s from Connecticut. Good bands good music. Good times. I’ll tell you a lot of girls in this in the 50s and this and early 60s met their husbands there because the boys would come from South Deerfield and Whately and Northampton. They met their husbands there. I met my first husband there. Yeah. Of course we we all used to love to dance because my father and mother liked it. So they taught the kids and I know more Polish songs than I do English ones. We danced in the kitchen on Saturday morning. My father would stamp his feet to the music. And my mother would holler “don’t stamp on the floor my bread will fall down you know.” I’ll Oh, I forgot to tell you about Easter Sunday, Easter Saturday, Holy Saturday. It was the custom that the priest used to come to the house to bless the food. And each woman would get her house spick and span for Easter, Saturday and Easter Sunday. And at our house. The spring cleaning was done for Easter Sunday. You started in the first week of Lent to cleaning house. That means everything was washed, spic and span. The mattresses were thrown out on the front porch to air out. The clothes were aired out from the winter. The ceilings were washed the walls were washed the pictures were washed new curtains. Oh, it was spic and span from top to bottom. Well comes Holy Saturday and the priest is ready, he’s supposed to come and my mother has been waiting for him since 11 o’clock. But she stationed my father in a window that he was to watch for the priest so that she could, you know. The food was already out on the table, the bread, cake, salt, an onion, the horseradish, the kielbasa and the ham. And there was a dish of holy water that my father got that morning. Because that was the day that they used to bless the water in the fire. And there was a thing that was made out of straw that he would dip into the holy water to bless the food. Well, my father got sick and tired and it’s you know, it’s probably one o’clock. My mother’s waiting for him, the priest and he hasn’t come, my father got sick of watching and in a window. So he left his station. And my mother is mad as a wet hen. Because it’s one o’clock, the priest hasn’t come to bless the food. She wants to go to Greenfield probably to buy yourself a pair of shoes for Easter or a hat or something. She wants to go to Greenfield shopping. And he’s not coming and she’s swearing at him. All of a sudden, the priest is in the hallway. And he says to my Father, “are you at least winning the argument Frankie?” Well, my father turned pale, fell to his knees. And my mother was still mad. She came by and she kicked him, you know, on his feet, and said get up. He’s only the priest. He was due here at 11 o’clock. And it’s happened as one of these just come in now. I’ve been waiting all this time I want to go to Greenfield. She said hurry up and bless the food and go. And of course there was $1 for him to come that he came, you know. But anyway, my father turned pale. But to her, he was just another man that came and he was only going to be doing his job. That was his job to bless the food. But my father. Oh my god. When the priest was near, my father would fold his hands in and, you know, give him the respect and everything that he needed. But not my mother she just figured he was just another human being that came to her house. She didn’t give him the right time of day. But yet when there was there was anything to do with the church, you know, the suppers and things. My mother was there to help. She donated food. They had the harvest suppers, and it was relied on the farmers in Montague to give potatoes and pumpkins or squash. And my mother gave a half a dozen jars of her big big jars of canned pickles and bread she would make and butter she would donate I mean she was there, you know, to do her part. But I don’t know if it was all that religious.
Sarh Campbell 39:27
Okay, tell me again… father’s name, your mother’s name the towns they came from
Edie Bourbeau 39:35
Okay. My mother was Leonora Kordal Bakula who came from Lomza. My father was Frank Bakula. And he came from Bialystok in Poland and the rest is history. Thanks so much.
