Two pictures of Uncle Will

William Collins the first was born January 11, 1859 on Wolfe Island, Frontenac County, Ontario, Canada. He died on Febuary 22, 1942 in the Town of Clayton, Jefferson County, New York and is buried in the Depauville Cemetery. He was a son of Robert B. & Nancy (nee:Smith) Dixon. He spent the first half of his life on Wolfe Island where he met and married Jennie Duggan on April 6, 1885. They had 7 children Charles Homer Dixon, Flora Leona Dixon, Ethel Grace Dixon, Lottie Irene Dixon, Bertha Louise Dixon, William Collins Dixon 2, & Lena Elizabeth Dixon. They later moved across the river to Jefferson County, New York. He was known by most people as "Uncle Will" he was a published song writer and poet. His work and some personal effects are in a room dedicated in his honor at the Queens University in Kingston, Ontario, Canada, Thanks to his grandson & wife William Collins Dixon 3rd. & Nancy (nee: Wagonar) Dixon. I want to Thank them for giving their permission to add these to my site and would like to dedicate this page to them. Unce Will was a self taught fiddle player and held many dances in his home and a member of the band on Wolfe Island. My grandparents Arthur & Marjorie (nee:Halliday) Vincent met at one of these dances. Marjorie was his great niece. Below you will find his obit and some of his work.

This is a copy of his obit:

WILLIAM COLLINS DIXON 1 WM. C. DIXON, 83, CLAYTON, DIES Clayton, Feb. 23, 1942 William Collins Dixon, 83, died at the home of his daughter, Mrs. George Tiernan, on the Three Mile Bay road, Clayton, R. D., Sunday morning at 9:30. His death was attributed to a heart attack and the infirmities of old age. The survivors are: two sons, Charles H. Dixon, and William C. Dixon, Clayton; four daughters, Mrs. Fred (Flora) Van Alstyne, Mrs. Howard (Lottie) Haller, Mrs. George (Louise) Tiernan and Mrs. Willis (Lena) Bass, all in Clayton; seven – grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. Another daughter, Mrs. Elbridge (Ethel) Johndrow, died June 11, 1917. The funeral services will be held at the home of Mrs. Tiernan, Tuesday afternoon at 2, Rev. William Eddy, pastor of the Clayton Methodist church, officiating. Friends are requested to omit flowers. Burial will be at the Depauville cemetery. Mr. Dixon was born Jan. 11, 1859, on Wolfe Island, Ont., the son of Robert and Nancy Smith Dixon. He married Miss Jennie Duggin April 6, 1885, at the home of Rev. Irving A. Brice, pastor of the Stone Mills Methodist church. Mr. Dixon lived on Wolfe Island until 1901 when he and his wife moved to a farm on the Clayton-Watertown road. Mrs. Dixon died there Nov. 5, 1932. Mr. Dixon belonged to the Methodist church. He was a member of the Wolfe Island band and the Order of Chosen Friends at Wolfe island. The Collins family were early settlers in the region now known as Stone Mills. Before J. B. Collins, Mr. Dixon’s grandfather, built his stone mill, the village was called Collins Mills. Mr. Dixon wrote several song lyrics among them being: “If only”, “Don’t Forget Your Mother”, and “You asked Me Why I’m Lonely.”

These are the poems that his grandson, William Collins Dixon 3, so far has found. If anyone has any more please let us know.I have more to add. Mom had some in a scrapbook.

SPRING

The beauty of spring, as seen in many forms, how delightful , as the snow is melting away, and you boots after a hard winters wear are out at the toes, to go splashing through the water and mud and especially if your vocation is farming, what pleasure one drives in wading through the barn yard, and the meloidious voice of the new born calf as you grasp him firmely by the ear and tail, and introduce it to its mother with the soothing words, “so boss”. Stand well back dear friend for bossy sometimes forgets her dignity, and another thing it is well to remember is that the leg of a cow can move very rapidly, and in any given point of the compass.

Spring times requries old clothes for you may be called up on at any time to preform some unpleasant duty.

Now in regard to the hired man much depends on his ability especialy as a milker. If he happens to be of a poetic turn of mind do not keep him for he is apt to forget himself and quote poetry to the cows with the milking stool of course this might do later in the season but never in the beautiful springtime, you had better wait til the cows are out to grass, and the lovely cow is pulling up the farmers corn then you might recall him for he might be of use as a scare crow.

Did you ever come in contact with the old gray gander in the spring time, the one that has been on the farms so many years! If you never did, and happen to be the small boy you had better put on fathers pants they would be a lot looser when he grabs you from behind as you reach the barnyard fence.

Author : William Dixon

WHEN ROSES BLOOM AGAIN

Soon roses will be blooming

In some forgotten place,

Planted there so long ago.

Some dear home then to grace,

We do not know who planted them

and we can only guess

perhaps some bride of long ago

yet theres no one to confess

Perhaps a hundred years or more

since they were planted there

yet each year they bloom again

and always just as fair.

W. C. DIXON SR.

Clayton, New York

AS A POET VIEWS IT

Written for on the Saint Lawrence

Lafargeville, NY March 14, 1933

I was so sure that spring was near,

And soon I would be digging greens

For the tulips were already up.

and soon I’d be planting beans.

The sun it shone so nice and warm,

and the sweat was on my brow.

Then I hid my winter socks

and cannot find them now.

This old snow storm it came along,

Along with a howling breeze,

and I think that I will freeze.

My bantam corn and lima beans

that I grow for succotash,

Will have to wait now quite a while,

While I fill up on hash.

For snow now is laying thick

where I plan to rake and spade,

There won’t be even dandelions

for a long time, I’m afraid

I will have to eat the same old grub

at least two months or more

and likely have the scurvy too,

and can’t get out of doors.

If any one last year did can

some greens, most any kind

Please send me some by parcel post

before I lose my mind.

Uncle Bill

Two of his songs.

I decided to add these next few like this so you get an idea of his writing. He wrote some in an old french dialect which may be hard to read. Try it slow. CLICK ON PICTURE TO ENLARGE.

The next three pages tell a continued story

This page belongs to Thelma Moye.