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MERASHEEN HOMECOMING JULY 26-29, 2018 IT IS SURE TO BE ONE OF THE SOCIAL EVENTS OF THE YEAR IN NEWFOUNDLAND.

"A deep connection to place can't always be understood or explained. It is a commitment, a deep and abiding attachment"

COME HOME AND CELEBRATE.

IN SPITE OF---AND MAYBE BECAUSE OF RESETTLEMENT MERASHEEN IS STILL A VIBRANT COMMUNITY 50 YEARS LATER.

MERASHEEN LIVES ON IN THE MINDS AND HEARTS OF PEOPLE WHO WILL ALWAYS CALL IT HOME.

"Did the people of Merasheen ever really resettle"?

‘There is a place that I call home. It's a place I have come to know intimately and to love. Away from this place, away from the beauty and power that is Merasheen there is always something missing from my "self". Merasheen sings to me.

Risin' on her at the Centre

It sings soft lullabies. It sings historical ballads. It sings sea shanties. It sings rousing songs of revolution. It sings of joy, sorrow, regret and loss. It sings of gifts passed down. It sings of faith, hope and love. The voices are English, Irish, French, Basque and perhaps earlier still, Beothuk.

WAITING FOR THE STEAMER

It sings to me of the joys of arriving and the sadness of departing, of coastal steamers and a crowded government wharf, of leaving home too soon, of being away too long, of my twin brother Gerard ( who died an infant- but there's two of me in many of my dreams), of family and friends now scattered, of ancestors in the graveyards, of early rites of manhood, of the importance of memory, of a fierce pride of place.

LAST TRIP HOME
TO LIVE IN THE HEARTS OF THOSE WE LOVE IS NOT TO DIE

Merasheen sings to me of mad storms, of warm breezes, of sunsets, of soft twilight, of the dawn-breaking cry of a gull, of complaining crows, of the flash of a hawk, of high hills with black cliffs down to the sea, of sweet meadows, of traces and fragments of memory, of the evocative smells of wood smoke, old classrooms, newly mown hay, the store loft.

STIFF BREEZE IN THE LITTLE HARBOUR
JUNE SUNSET
TWILIGHT
CLIFFS THAT GO DOWN TO THE SEA
THE STORE LOFT

It sings to me of the secret places of childhood, of childhood games, of playmates’ laughter, of days too short, of wonder and surprise, of sadness and disillusionment, of moonlit nights, of muffled foggy mornings, of back coves spongy with capelin spawn, of the Big Rock, the Middle Rock, the Long Rock, the Net Rock, the Chain Rock and the Fish Rock.

EVERY ROCK HAS A NAME
THE FULL BUCK MOON JULY
CAPELIN ROLLING IN THE BACK COVE

Merasheen sings to me of hills and ponds and features named for and by people long since gone but remembered in Gallivan's Hill, Murray's Pond, Larkin's Garden and Tommy Yeo's Point. It sings to me of sea and wharves and boats overflowing with cod, of busy harbour, of talk of weather and the fish, of store loft stories, of the wisdom of old people, of softhard women and hardsoft men, of the quest for learning and understanding self, of the silence of an empty church, of garden parties, of the wild "round the house", of concerts and skits, of journeys "in over" the hills, of a co-operative spirit and action, of duty, responsibility and work, of Christmas, St. Patrick's Day, Easter and Lady Day celebrations of Community.

BLESSING OF THE BOATS 1963
CALM BREAK OF DAY IN THE BIG HARBOUR

Merasheen sings to me of eagles, ospreys and loons, of sea otters and whales, of flatfish, conners, tomcods and jellyfish, of beautiful sculpins and darting terns, of the endless summers of childhood. It sings to me of trap berths and fishing grounds, of good bottom and clear marks, of dory, punt, skiff (Mary Moureena) and schooner (Catherine M. Hann), of the Wild Cove, the Big Shoal, the Pond Head, the Dirty Rocks, of Breakheart Point and the Fox Point, of Iron Skull and the White Sail.

HEADING OFF WITH LUNCH SF
HUMPBACK SWIMMING BY
VISITORS

Merasheen sings to me of hidden shoals, of a welcoming light, of a secure harbor inside the frothing "narrows", of a forever restless sea, of the meeting of land, sea and sky, of peace and solitude, of being alone but not lonely, of knowing who I am, of being connected and rooted.

HIDDEN SHOALS
FROTHING NARROWS

Merasheen sings to me of yesterday, today and tomorrow. A deep connection to place can't always be understood or explained. It is a commitment, a deep and abiding attachment. It is a part of every aspect of my life, every belief and thought. It is a part of instinct, of primal memory.

THE WELCOME COMMITTEE

Without my yearly journeys home, I'm not fulfilled.

I await my next journey home.

MERASHEEN SINGS TO ME..........BY PATRICK J HANN JR. 2001

MAKE YOUR NEXT JOURNEY HOME THIS SUMMER.

ANY QUESTIONS PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CONTACT ONE OF THE COMMITTEE MEMBERS BELOW:

VAL… valpower1@gmail.com; DOREEN…d.ennis@eastlink.ca; LUCY… lucycounsel@yahoo.com

EVELYN evelynennis@gmail.com; EDNA epittman@persona.ca; Sharon shfitz49@hotmail.com

THANKS TO THE VOLUNTEERS WHO HAVE COME FORWARD, WE WILL BE DRAWING ON YOU IN THE DAYS TO COME. ACCOMODATIONS AND TRANSPORTATION VISITORS RESPONSIBILITY. FOLLOW THE MERASHEEN FACE BOOK PAGE FOR INFORMATION AND UPDATES.

BY RAY HANN 2018

COPY AND PASTE THIS LINK TO READ THE HANN FAMILY'S STORY LEAVING MERASHEEN-THE 50 Anniversary.

https://spark.adobe.com/page/ezTGRWtms72QW/

COPY AND PASTE THE FOLLOWING LINK TO READ HOW THOUSANDS OF NEWFOUNDLAND FAMILIES WERE SWINDLED AND IMPOVERISHED BY THEIR GOVERNMENTS DURING RESETTLEMENT IN NEWFOUNDLAND AND LABRADOR FROM 1965-1975.

RESETTLEMENT-THE GOVERNMENT GAME

https://spark.adobe.com/page/z6Mzgcu3H3L5V/

Credits:

Ernie Walsh Rita Pomroy Sharon Fitzpatrick

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