The idea of establishing a French summer language school in Saint-Pierre originated during a conversation between a group of professors of French from the University of Toronto on vacation on the islands of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon in August 1959. The group included Richard and Jeannette Jeanes, Edward Rathé, and Alice Widner, all from Victoria College, and Clarence Parsons from University College and his wife, Sheila. The Jeaneses had discovered the islands the previous summer and had enjoyed their stay immensely. For Clarence

Parsons, who had spent fifteen years of his youth in Saint-Pierre, it was after an absence of twenty-four years a real home-coming. Saint-Pierre had scarcely changed in the intervening years. It had preserved its old French provincial ways and customs, unaffected by its giant English-speaking neighbour. Life was quiet and simple, the inhabitants friendly and hospitable, the spoken French excellent. In addition, the islands were close to the Canadian mainland, barely twelve miles from the small port of Fortune on the Burin peninsula of Newfoundland. Somewhat isolated from the mainstream of North American life, they constituted a yet-untapped source of opportunities for language students to improve their ability to speak French, through total immersion, without having to cross the Atlantic Ocean. Here the practice of the French language could become truly a living experience.

These were some of the thoughts that ran through the conversation that day in August 1959. And then someone said – was it Jeannette Jeanes? – “Why not start a summer school here! This is a unique and wonderful place to teach French to our students.” Everyone agreed, but the whole scheme might not have gone any further except that someone else added, “Clarence, since you are practically a native of Saint-Pierre, you are the ideal person to get this whole thing off the ground. See how they feel about it here, and if they are receptive, when we get back this fall to Toronto, we will back you up completely.”

The idea did appeal to Parsons, and he set about immediately contacting the local authorities, the governor of the islands, the mayor of the town of Saint-Pierre, the bishop of the parish, and the inhabitants. They all thought that it was a good idea.

The students could be housed and fed with families and thus be closely associated with the life of the town. Their presence would enliven the local scene and also make a contribution to the island’s economy. One of the Saint-Pierrais who endorsed the project most enthusiastically was Francis Leroux, a prosperous local merchant and president of the Syndicat d’Initiative, the tourist bureau. Leroux was to remain throughout the school’s existence a loyal and ardent supporter and friend and an essential link between Saint-Pierre and Toronto. A generous and humorous bon vivant, he spared no efforts in helping to lay the grounds for the new school. He gave unreservedly of his time and efforts, often making trips to Toronto at his own expense to strengthen the bond between the university and Saint-Pierre. The parties he gave each summer at Savoyard, to which all students were invited, became legendary.

Back in Toronto that fall, Parsons set to work and prepared a fully developed proposal for the creation of the Summer School, which was submitted to the president of the university. Claude Bissell was immediately interested, all the more so, as he stated in a letter, because “we have a summer home in Cape Breton and have always toyed with the idea of visiting the two islands sometime during our stay in that part of the world.”

Since the school was to be essentially for the development of oral proficiency in French and since it would be, to all intents and purposes, non-credit in nature, its administration could be assumed by the Division of University Extension. And thus began a close collaboration between Parsons and the then-director of University Extension, Carl Williams, and two faithful and diligent members of his personnel,

Dorothy Milner and Helen Denne. Eventually a poster and a folder were prepared and distributed, which announced very simply, “The Division of University Extension, University of Toronto will conduct an oral French Summer School from August 1st to August 29, 1960 on the Island of Saint Pierre.” Full details were given about the courses, and information about Saint-Pierre and how to get there.

Clarence Parsons was appointed director of the school, and everyone waited anxiously to see what the response would be. After all, its existence depended on a sufficient number of registrations to make it viable. To publicize the existence of the school, articles appeared in various publications, interviews were given on radio and television, and advertisements were placed in magazines. All these efforts were soon to pay off. By the end of June, a representative group of

students had been recruited: for the most part, high school teachers but including high school and university students, office secretaries, the president of a large publishing firm, a well-known Canadian organist, a university professor, and a number of corresponding wives, children, and dogs – thirty-five in all, not counting the dogs.

They ranged in age from eighteen to sixty-four and came mostly from Ontario but also from Montreal, Ottawa, and Newfoundland. All was set for the launching of what many considered an original and innovative venture.

At the end of July, the director and his staff awaited the arrival of the students. Enjoying the warm hospitality of the Saint-Pierrais, they were confident that they were prepared for any eventuality. Then a crisis developed. Many students had

accepted the offer of the Saint-Pierre government of free transportation by sea and were awaiting the small ship that would take them from North Sydney, Nova Scotia, to Saint-Pierre, an eighteen-hour journey. The news broke that the precious Noah’s Ark that would bring them to the promised land would not make it on time. One of its engines out of commission, it was limping somewhere between Saint-Pierre and Sydney. It could not possibly return on time to pick up the students. Panic ensued and emergency measures had to be taken to retrieve the stranded students. Air Saint-Pierre, a fledgling airline that boasted a single carrier, a retired dc3 with a capacity of twenty-three passengers, came to the rescue. This “flying shoe box” eventually made a spectacular and safe landing in a cloud of dust on the still unpaved and uncharted island airstrip. Soon all the students were comfortably settled with their appointed families. There were some

minor problems deciding the exact status of the dogs and their legitimate place in the homes, but on the whole all went well.

Every morning the students gathered at the Collège Saint Christophe for a half-hour French singsong. Not only was it a chance for the students to wake up completely, but it also provided an opportunity to improve their pronunciation, and for late comers it was a discreet face-saving device. When the last student left the island of Saint-Pierre at the end of August 1960, Parsons and his colleagues were satisfied that the school had been a complete success. Thus was launched a venture that would be repeated for the next twenty-five summers. Parsons continued to serve as the regular director of the school, being replaced occasionally by John Walker, Frederick Gerson, Jack Yashinsky, and Joseph

Enguehard. Other members of the French Department who participated as instructors in the school included W.S. Rogers, Eric James, Roland Le Huenen, Jeannette Jeanes, Mireille Nouvelon Walker, Alice Widner Rathé, and Jacqueline Park.

At the outset the programme was limited to one August session, but soon a session in July was added. As the school became better known and its reputation established, more and more students from Canada, as well as from the United States, enrolled. From a modest beginning of thirty-five students in 1960, it attracted more than one hundred and fifty students during its peak registration in 1970. The school participated for the first time in 1973 in the Federal-Provincial Summer Bursary Language Program, which enabled more students from all over Canada to come to Saint-Pierre. The curriculum for a while was enriched by

the addition of arts and crafts courses and the presence of eminent scholars from France. The practice of engaging exceptionally bright Saint-Pierre students and teachers as instructors served to draw even closer the students of the Summer School and their island hosts.

Summers went by quietly and profitably for all. Occasional prolonged periods of foggy weather dampened spirits somewhat, and weekend excursions to Miquelon and Langlade in search of sunshine were organized. A few exceptional events over the years marked this otherwise quiet unfolding. The highlight of the summer of 1967 was the visit of Charles de Gaulle to Saint-Pierre, a stop on his way to Canada and his famous declaration. Mindful of the general’s avowed aversion for anything American, the local authorities had taken care to dismantle the wooden golden eagle that had adorned the façade of the American House for more than a

century. They also made sure that all American-model cars were carefully relegated to backstreets and alleys, out of sight of the route the general was to follow. Everything was done to spare the sensitivity of the illustrious visitor. One student at the Summer School, intent on preserving a lasting impression of de Gaulle’s passage, followed him on his rounds. At each appointed stop along the parcours, he managed to shake the general’s hand and did so more than five times in all. He was ecstatic, and de Gaulle, it seems, remained serene and dignified but perfectly unaware that the hand he had shaken so repeatedly was in fact that of Andrew Sussman, a student from the United States. Another event, not quite as flamboyant but no less memorable, was the unofficial visit of Pierre Trudeau and his wife, Margaret, on 3 August 1971. On that occasion the school was given the morning off to greet the prime minister when he landed. Judging from the

expression of sheer delight on the faces of the giggling young women students in photographs taken at the time, it seems that despite the fact that Trudeau had recently married, Trudeaumania was still in full swing.

Right at the beginning of the school, a Canadian writer by the name of Farley Mowat had appeared on the scene in Saint-Pierre. Some of his early novels were inspired by his experience on the islands. His presence might have gone unnoticed if it had not been for the fact that while he was there one summer, he met a young student by the name of Claire who was later to become his wife. In 1984, because of the growing cost of operating the school brought about by inflation, the School of Continuing Studies (which had replaced the Division of University Extension in 1974) decided that it represented too great a financial burden to be maintained and that 1985 would be the last year of its existence. In the meantime, Memorial University of Newfoundland, following the example set by the

University of Toronto, decided to create an institute on Saint-Pierre that has since offered courses to its students all year round. More recently the French government set up in Saint-Pierre a Centre de Francophonie intended to draw foreign students to the island. These two schools have become worthy successors to the University of Toronto Summer School, which is now but a fond memory in the minds and hearts of thousands of students who came to it between 1960 and 1985. For about a dozen female students, however, who over the years met in Saint-Pierre the man of their dreams and decided to marry and stay there, that memory has remained an everyday reality.