The following is a short story of my memories of Merasheen. My father, Jeremiah Pittman, died when I was just two years old. We left Merasheen when I was two and a half, so I did not have the privilege of growing up there. I wanted to write something to keep his memory alive and as sort of a tribute to him and others who lived and died trying to make a living on Merasheen.

MEMORIES OF MERASHEEN
by Mary (Pittman) Walsh

It is in fond remembrance that I dedicate this short story to the memory of my father, Jeremiah Pittman. He was born and raised on Merasheen Island in the early 1900's. He and -my mother, Lucy Rowlands, were married on Merasheen, November 11, 1943.

He passed away at Placentia Hospital on New Year's Day, 1948, as the result of serious injuries he suffered in a woods accident five days earlier. He had gone into the woods to cut timber for a boat which he was building at the time. He apparently slipped and fell on snow covered ice, causing serious head injuries. He was just twenty-nine years old. He left behind his wife Lucy and three very young children, Raymond, Mary and Rita. We left Merasheen the following summer and moved to Jean de Baie to be near my mother's family. We visited Merasheen on a couple of occasions in the following years. I have only very vague memories of these visits.

During high school, my sister, Rita, and I spent two weeks of our summer holidays on Merasheen. We stayed with our great aunt, Theresa Pomroy, (our maternal grandmother's sister) and great uncle Bill. My father's family had all left Merasheen by that time and moved to Placentia. We had a very enjoyable two weeks as we made new friends and met relatives. We enjoyed the ‘Garden Party" and the beauty of the island as we walked along the roads and the rocks. Merasheen was a bee hive of activity back then with the fishery and the fish plant in full operation.

My next visit to Merasheen came thirty-five years later during the 1990 Reunion. It was with great excitement and anticipation that I arrived in the harbour on a beautiful sunny evening accompanied by my husband, Kevin, our oldest son, Jerry (Jeremiah), his girlfriend, Connie Sutton, my sister, Rita, and her husband, Andy Speed. We set up our tents on the meadow where we were born in Big Merasheen.
Some remains of the concrete foundation (shores) of the house were still visible. The whole island was a buzz with people and temporary shelters in all directions. You could say “The Hills Were Alive with People and Music“.

We enjoyed the festivities of the Reunion and met some long lost relatives and friends. We visited the site of our father’s burial place. Unfortunately, there is no special marking of his grave. That was a very nostalgic and memorable reunion for me as once again my sister and I walked along the paths and beaches of our birthplace.

Whenever I hear the songs, “The Rocks of Merasheen“ and ‘The Merasheen Farewell“ they strike a special chord in my heart. I always have to stop and listen as my mind drifts back to Merasheen, its people, my roots, my heritage, and my father's resting place. I have no mental memories of him, just a few photographs and stories told to me by my mother and others who knew him.

Note: My mother recently celebrated her 83rd birthday and is still enjoying good health.