To the editor;


I read your article in The Light (December edition) in regards to people living in the area we don’t really know and that reminded me of the time I attended the graduation ceremonies to present students with the North Shore Bavarian Society Bursaries. Sitting next to someone well known in Tatamagouche, while talking to him I found out that he did not know much about us, he was under the impression that Claire and I came directly from Germany to Denmark where we bought a farm. Even so, we have been here for 38 years and had four children attend the primary and high school in Tatamagouche.

Not to get into too many details, I would like to tell you how and why we ended up here in Denmark.

I emigrated from Germany in 1960 to join my brother who came to Canada in 1955 to Saskatoon, where he was supervising a construction project for Canadian Comstock Ltd. He got me a job on the same project. I had just completed my training as an electrician in Germany before I came. It took me some time to get used to the language and the trade practices but things turned out well.

After the project was complete, I stayed in Saskatoon and worked for another company, which transferred me to Thompson, Man., to work on a housing project and once this was completed, I worked for International Nickel Comp. for some time. Not having too much of a social life because of the lack of entertainment in the area and the many overtime hours worked, the money accumulated to the point where I quit to go on an extended holiday.

This holiday took me through Canada and part of the U.S. and when I ended up in Montreal my wallet was getting a little thin, which meant that I had to find another job soon.

This was when I met Claire, my future mate. I found myself a job in Wabush, Labrador, and, after spending a couple of days with Claire, I had to say goodbye to get to work to replenish my bank account.

We did get together again, once when I had to fly to Germany due to a serious ailment of my mother and after on my holiday, which we spent in the Gaspe, Que., where Claire was born.

Well, what do you know? Cupid did his job, we got married and established our first nest in Wabush, which we filled with two beautiful girls (Newfies).

Now so far you know how I got to Canada and how I ended up with Claire but why Nova Scotia?

My brother, with whom I kept in touch, was married in Bass River, N.S., on a farm that had been abandoned for some time. It came up for sale and my brother suggested we should buy it together.

To regress a bit, when I was just a little lad I spend a lot of time on my uncle’s farm in Germany where he raised pigs and butchered them. He taught me a lot, I just loved it and will never forget it.

A farm in Nova Scotia sounded great for me and that’s just what we did. Bass River here we come, but this was not the only thing that came, we had another girl and after a while a boy born in Truro (Schooners).

After raising and butchering pigs in Bass River for 12 years we had the chance to sell and relocate to Denmark, N.S., here we again raised pigs and sheep, we also opened a delicatessen shop, “THE PORK SHOP”, and a restaurant “THE BAVARIEN GARDEN”. And as if we were not busy enough we started the Oktoberfest in Tatamagouche and later formed the North Shore Bavarian Society.

So, here you go, Claire and our four kids are Canadians, I was born in Germany and lived there for 18 years and I am now 57 years in Canada. Out of the 57 years, 50 years in Nova Scotia, and of that, 38 years in this area. I guess that would make us LOCALS from AWAY.

We feel that living in the country, especially in Nova Scotia, is a great way to spend your lives and we are very lucky to have had the opportunity to do so and to contribute and meet so many great people, not to forget those who work in the public sector like the hospital, fire department, bank, school, post office and the recycle centre on our journey.

In closing I would like to invite anyone from AWAY to do the same and tell their story.         

Many thanks.


Dieter Mueller,

River John