[September 27, 2016: The "Peter Perch" section was updated with the names of the two individuals who donated two different baby seats to Museum London.]
Art Historian, Artist, Teacher, Writer, Occupational Therapist and Cultural Activist
|Jay Peterson, ca. 1935-1940|
My mother, Jay Peterson, was born and raised in Owen Sound, Ontario. Around the time she was 12, her family moved to Lewiston, N.Y., and later Niagara Falls, N.Y. In 1941, she received her B.A. in Art History from the University of Rochester. She returned to Canada and received her B.A. in Occupational Therapy from the University of Toronto in 1943. In 1943, she also married my father, Dr. Charles T. Peterson. The couple initially lived in Regina and Saskatoon, while my father served with the Canadian Army Dental Corps. In 1947, the couple moved to London, Ontario where my three younger brothers and I were born and raised.
|Jay Peterson, ca. late 1960s|
|My brother, Don Peterson, sits in the baby seat, ca. 1958|
In June 2005, Museum London formally accepted a chair donated by Ed (Ted) Bartram. This chair was included with the Invention to Innovation exhibition at the Museum that ran from February to August 2007.
In June 2016, Museum London formally accepted a second chair donated by Catherine McEwen. This additional chair has slightly different features from the one donated in 2005.
Nativity Scene Artwork
|Jay Peterson's nativity scene artwork, ca. 1953|
|"Moo Cow," August 2008. Photo by Susan Wallace.|
Life Celebrated by Poem
Poet Colleen Thibaudeau (1925-2012) penned the poem that is on my mother's grave at the Leith [Ontario] United Church cemetery. The inscription is a fluid rendering of Thibaudeau's original version, which was a circle (shape) poem. The initials "MGB" stand for Marydel (nee Garretson) Balderston who did the calligraphy for the inscription. In 2005, Balderston passed away in her 91st year.
|Jay Peterson's grave. Photo taken by Leith Peterson, ca. June 2006.|
We remember mainly her
hands skillful and reaching
out to us all;
She put our thoughts into
actions into expressions that
go onward, she saw so clearly
the picture that was
intended and painted us all
into it somewhere
stroke by loving stroke.