Lögberg-Heimskringla - 19.11.2004, Blaðsíða 5

Lögberg-Heimskringla • Föstudagur 19. nóvember 2004 • 5
lceland & París
659 From Toronto
815 From Winnipeg
2199 From Edmonton
J^Great..
Canadian
TravelS'"'5

..the way it was meant to be.
Iceland & London
,1509 From Toronto
s1785 From Winnipeg
From Edmonton
All príces are per person + faxes for low season travel,
Return airfare.
3 nights accommodation in both
lceland and Paris.
Paris Visite transport pass.
Airport transfers with Blue Lagoon.
• Return airfare.
• 3 nights accommodation in both
Reykjavik and London.
• London Visitor Travelcard.
■ Airport transfers with Blue Lagoon.
PhoneToll Free: 1 800 661-3830
iceland@gctc-mst.com
www.iceland-experience.com
Agnes Bardal Comack
WlNNlPEG, MB
I am sure that many
women my age fínd it as odd as
I do to have store clerks and
other strangers calling us by
our first names.
As a child, I remember that
we never knew our neighbours
even had fírst names. In North
Kildonan, where I grew up in
Winnipeg, our neighbours
were Mrs. Spice, Mrs. Kidd,
and Mrs. McKay. To them, my
mother was Mrs. Bardal.
Despite the close bond
they all had over the years,
meeting regularly in each
other’s homes as members of
the Hawthorne Club, I never
heard any woman being
refen-ed to by her first name.
My mother had only a
basic education, settling with
her family in the Icelandic
River district in 1887 and later
in Selkirk. I’m sure the
Hawthorne Club provided an
educational experience for her.
It was there she leamed to love
the poetry of Edgar Guest and
benefitted by hearing guest
speakers and musical entertain-
ment. I suspect this bond with
her Anglo-Saxon neighbours
had a great influence on her
life, but the formality
remained.
In her association with the
Ladies’ Aid at First Lutheran
Church, my mother had many
good friends. They were
always referred to as “Mrs.” or
“Miss,” never by their first
names.
It was years before I dis-
covered her best friend, Mrs.
J.J. Bildfell, actually had a first
name. It was long after both of
them had died that I leamed
her name was “Sofia.” Over the
years she had always been
“Mrs. Bildfell.”
The only women who
seemed to have first names
were our aunties. Auntie
Ingunn and Auntie Asdis, for
example, were my father’s sis-
ters. As a child I was unaware
they even had last names.
As a nursing student in the
early forties, the formality con-
tinued. I was “Miss Bardal.” To
my classmates, I was always,
simply, “Bardal.” We were
rarely, if ever, called by our
first names.
After I was married in
1946, I became “Mrs.
Comack.” I even had my sta-
tionary labelled “Mrs. Hugh
Comack.” After several years
of marriage, my daughter, Eliz-
abeth, informed me that any-
one could be “Mrs. Comack.”
Even “Agnes Comack” was
meaningless, since my Scottish
husband’s grandmother, aunt,
and cousin were all named
“Agnes Comack.” I was
advised to use “Agnes Bardal
Comack” to give my name
some distinction.
With the passage of time, I
was beginning to think, maybe,
I was becoming accustomed to
having complete strangers call-
ing me “Agnes.” However, one
incident convinced me that
there is a limit to this informal-
ity.
One evening the phone
rang and a pleasant voice greet-
ed me warmly with, “Hello
Jack of all Trade
to do various household
maintenance jobs
Transcona area
Call Margaret
Evenings 667-4134
Agnes, how’s everything
going?” I was taken aback,
wondering which one of my
old friends this could be. I was
shocked to discover it was not
an old friend. It was yet anoth-
er stranger wanting yet another
donation for yet another wor-
thy cause.
I could feel the blood in
my veins starting to simmer. In
no uncertain terms, I let this
young fellow know that I was
old enough to be his grand-
mother and that I did not
appreciate his familiarity. With
that, I slammed down the
receiver! There are times like
these when familiarity does
breed contempt.
I well remember my reac-
tion of horror about twenty
years ago when I learned my
niece, a nursing instructor,
allowed her students to call her
by her first name.
I now believe we have lost
something special with the
demise of these formalities.
With formality comes respect,
courtesy, dignity, and disci-
pline.
ril know that all is lost
when privates start calling their
commanding officers by their
first names.
rnuiu ouurxicoi ur moincö omixuml uuivmurv
Mrs. Márgret Bardal (wearing the white hat), with her best
friend Mrs. Sofia Bildfell (in the black hat) and an unidenti-
fied woman (possibly Margaret Palsson Thorvaldson) at a
reception for the Icelandic ambassador circa 1940.
The demise of
old formalities
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