“Asshole!”—If Violet Hughes calls you this, she likes you. 100%.

Vi was known for three things—loving her family, chewing gum, and being the life of the party. Vi loved to dance with her stiletto heels and red lipstick. In her younger years, you could find her at a local dance every Saturday night. In fact, this is where she met her husband, Doug. Truth is, she was dating someone else. But Doug apparently swept her off her stilettoed feet, and they were inseparable ever since.

From 1947 to 1949, Vi was the mascot for The Arcade Ladies softball team, winning the Maritime championship in 1947 and 1948. In four years, they won 90 out of 98 games, with a winning streak of 60 games in a row. This is still believed to be unsurpassed in Canadian softball, which landed them in the Nova Scotia Hall of Fame in 1999.

Vi was a stay-at-home mom to her five children until her youngest went to school. In 1971, she left Nova Scotia and uprooted her family to Toronto. She worked as a secretary for De Havilland Aircraft by day, and a supermom by night, driving her kids to and from activities and sporting events. She missed a lot of games because as she always said,

“By the time I dropped the last one off, the first one was ready to be picked up again.”

Vi returned to the Maritimes in 1975, where she worked for the Department of National Defense until she retired in 1992. In their first year back, they decided to build her dream home as a family, next to a quiet little lake in Lower Sackville. Working full-time during the day and until midnight, Vi and Doug, with their kids, finished the home in 1976.

Violet spends her remaining years watching the sunrise and feeding the ducks. She also waits for Doug to put in a pool because she is afraid of the lake critters nibbling on her toes.

Leaving you with her final sentiment: “Thanks for reading, assholes!”

“Never pick a fight with the ocean. The ocean will always win.” 

Doug Hughes loved to cook; his dream was to be a chef in the Navy. When he turned 18, young Doug waited in line for what seemed like hours to apply to be a chef at the Navy Recruit Centre. But when he got to the front, he realized it was a line for deep-sea divers. Doug looked to his right and saw the line for chefs. It was even longer. So—this is the story of Doug Hughes, a deep-sea diver for over 35 years. 

In 1971, Doug left Nova Scotia and moved to Toronto, starting work with the Toronto Bomb Squad Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) and becoming a member of the Experimental Diving Unit. This is where he developed and worked with the hyperbaric chamber to provide treatments for gangrene and diving ailments such as decompression sickness, or in other words, the bends. Yes, he was, for lack of a better word, a guinea pig who voluntarily got the bends hundreds of times to ensure that the hyperbaric chamber provided adequate oxygen therapy treatment. 

As the years went on, Doug felt that although he was friends with the sea, he wanted to be acquainted with the sky, too. He went in for a physical, one of the requirements before becoming a pilot, and they found a large tumor behind his heart. If it wasn’t for his physical, he would have been dead in six months. After open-heart surgery and three months of recovery, Doug was back at sea with a clean bill of health. 

Back at sea

He returned to the Maritimes in 1975, and was coxswain of the HMCS Cormorant from 1981-1986. One day, while the McKay Bridge was being built, Doug and several other divers were using a large vacuum to remove boulders from the ocean floor. Tragically, before his own eyes, one of his friends got caught in the current and was killed after the strength of the vacuum disfigured and dismantled his body. From then, also battling extensive arthritis, he became chief instructor at the Fleet Diving Unit training school and remained in the FDU(A) until his retirement. 

Doug spent his remaining years with his wife Vi on a lake in Lower Sackville, Nova Scotia where they raised their five children. Water, as he said, a friend and foe, surrounded him always. 

Leaving you with his favorite saying;

“See you on the bottom!”

Happy Monday! It’s Senior Story time again!

Rain or shine, snow or sleet, if you were inside, Mary Shute told you to “get out”. I don’t blame her—she had 11 children.

Born and raised in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Mary was the glue that held her entire family together, catering to her husband, Ralph, first. She made sure that he came home to fresh, hot food and busy kids, after a long day’s work.

Had a sweet tooth? No problem. You’ll get your fix anywhere in the house, with numerous selections of Robertson’s Candy, popular in the Maritimes around Christmas, such as chicken bones, ribbon candy, and clear-toy suckers, displayed beautifully in crystal bowls.

Every year on Pancake Day, also known as Shrove Tuesday, Mary would fry you up some delicious pancakes stuffed with coins (wrapped in wax paper) to sponsor your trip to the local convenience store in search of penny candy.

At Christmas, she would stuff her husband’s woolen socks with fruit, nuts, and candy for each child’s stocking, and hand you the Sears catalog to choose one, yes one, toy.

Mary was kind, and giving (what she was able to give) and was very much stubborn… in all the best ways. One year, her son and daughter-in-law gave her a scratch ticket inside her birthday card, and she won $500. She thought it was only fair to split the winnings with them, as they were the ones who purchased the ticket for her.

Mary was dependable, protective, and family-oriented: a woman who got things done.

She spent a number of years after Ralph’s retirement at their lakeside cottage, before her battle with Alzheimer’s. Rumor has it, she’s currently telling other seniors at the nursing home to go out and play.