Josh Freed: Indeed, we 'hysterical historic anglos' are a distinct society

Article content “Our father, who art in heaven, Harold be thy name.” That’s one of several childhood variations of the Lord’s Prayer I received from many readers after my recent column offering a “historic anglo quiz.” Other readers said they murmured “Our father, Howard in heaven” as school kids — or else “halvah,” or “Halloween is my name.

” Several hundred of you responded to the quiz, many declaring that you proudly passed. Others failed but suggested different quiz questions that would be “fairer.” The outpouring of messages was a reminder that we “hysterical historic” Quebec anglos are a distinct tribe, connected by our own strange customs, words and street names that run deep in our identity.



Among the bonds that letter writers shared: Many older anglos still remember and even croon school religious hymns like Silent Night in the shower, whatever their faith. As Fran R. put it: “How come I can still sing Jesus Loves Me, but I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday? I’m an anglo, yes, indeed!” Several former Jewish teachers like Ellen R.

said they led daily Protestant English school board hymns in classrooms that were almost entirely Jewish. I also heard from long-lost Grade 3 Barclay classmate Gloria P., who wrote: “As a little child, my very Orthodox kosher Jewish grandfather came to visit and my mom asked me to sing him a song to show how smart I was .

.. so I started in my loud voice with ‘Jesus loves me this I know.

’ “I will never forget the shock on her face and a quick hand on my lips to stop me singing ...

while my totally confused grandfather asked in Yiddish: ‘What are you singing?’” Many Protestants like Ron also wrote, several saying they were the only Christians in entirely diverse classrooms that were belting out these hymns. Even some younger writers, schooled after de-confession, like Jamie P., recall hearing their parents singing hymns or Britain’s national anthem around the house, perhaps passing the tradition down.

However, my inclusion of God Save the Queen in the quiz provoked complaints from several Irish-Catholic anglos — self-described “mackerel snappers.” Among them was Peter M. who said that as a student, he “did not and WOULD NOT” ever sing those dreaded British words.

Dozens of writers confirmed we “historic” anglos have an entirely separate shadow city street name system for “Mun-tree-all.” Our distinct geography includes well-known “anglo” streets like Saint Lawrence, Saint Urban, Saint Vee-ay-tur and Da Bull-yawn; also Jeerward, DickHarry-Blvd. and Pointe-St-Charles streets like Burgess (Bourgeois) and Sharon (Charon).

I’ve also heard from everybody who ever lived on Deleppy (or Delippy) street, like me. A surprising number of writers grew up thinking Pie-IX Blvd. was pronounced Pie Nine or even Pie-Eye-X.

As Nora H. wrote, she was over 30 when someone mentioned a Montreal street named Pie-Neuf. “It dawned on me in a sudden flash of clarity,” she wrote.

“Pee-Neuf is Pie-Eye-X! ...

I think this street should be on the historic anglophone test.” Meanwhile, Peter T. reminded me of something I’d forgotten from English school: the daily pledge of allegiance I instantly remembered in full.

“I solemnly swear allegiance to this flag and to the British Empire” (later changed to Commonwealth) for which it stands. So help me God.” That pledge has become a 4 a.

m. earworm for me ever since. Thanks, Peter.

As well, dozens of ex-Montrealers from Toronto and Calgary to New York, California, North Carolina and Dublin said the anglo quiz summoned up their nostalgic Montreal roots. Some found themselves humming old hymns, anthems and school songs, or pining to return for some Miss Montreal fried chicken or Piazza Tomasso lasagna that no longer exists. Finally, several writers said they didn’t fit into the norms set by our cookie-cutter government, eager to jam everyone into a historic anglophone or francophone box.

They included several francophones de souche like M.R. who attended English school and is now classified as a “historic anglo,” with full Quebec English-language rights.

Others said their francophone roots date back to Quebec’s first colonists, but they’re bicultural and speak French to family and English to friends. Some writers had French names like Richard Dubé but are actually historic anglos who sometimes must fight to prove it. Others including S.

B. arrived in the ’60s as French-speaking immigrant Moroccans, but were refused by francophone schools because they weren’t Catholic. Instead, they were jammed into English schools where they couldn’t understand a word.

Today they’re considered “historic” anglos. These writers represent a panoply of identities that reflect Quebec’s growing diversity, but not our current government. Finally, several of you suggested other quiz questions you think would also identify many older historic anglos.

So, try these: (1) Who was Bunga in school geography books? (2) What was the original English street name of Edouard Montpetit? How about de Maisonneuve Ave.? (3) Magic Tom performed at what famous restaurant? (4) What was the streetcar number to Belmont Park? (5) Can you sing the St-Hubert song? (“Ring-a-ding-ding that’s all you do. Putt-putt-putt, St-Hubert Barbecue!”) Uh-oh, I couldn’t answer those last two myself: Do I lose my historic anglo status? Hey, Kamala of Westmount, could you? joshfreed49@gmail.

com.