Touching Hearts Opening Doors

For three weeks, Touching Hearts, Opening Doors is paying tribute to members of my family who served in the military, and through them, to the many men and women whose lives were affected by service.

Last week, I shared the story of my great-grandfather, Sidney D. Burrill, who served during the First World War. Next week, I’ll remember my adopted father, Victor Hurlburt, who served during the Second World War.

This week, the story is much closer to home.

It is the story of my birth father, Locke Hurlburt.

I was adopted when I was about a year old, but I was fortunate to grow up knowing both my birth family and my adopted family. At different times, the two families lived only about twenty minutes apart — sometimes not much more than a twenty-minute walk.

I sometimes joke that I was born to one family of Hurlburt’s, and adopted by another, and they just wouldn’t let me get away.

The truth is, I was doubly blessed.

I grew up knowing where I came from while also knowing the family that raised me. That has given me memories, relationships and stories from both sides of my life.

Locke Hurlburt

Locke was born in 1905, into humble circumstances.

By the time the Second World War came, he was married and had four daughters. He went overseas and was away for an extended period.

During that time, another child, Jim, became part of that family. Jim always regarded Locke as his father, and I don’t want his place in the family story to be forgotten.

The war changed a great many people.

Locke’s daughters have told me that the father who came home was not quite the same man who had left.

That deserves some perspective as well. His oldest daughter was still only a young child when he went away. By the time he returned, those children were several years older themselves. They had changed too.

But there is little doubt that war leaves marks that cannot always be seen.

Locke’s wounds were carried differently — in memories, experiences and personal battles that followed him home.

And home itself had changed.

His first marriage ended, the family had been scattered among relatives and neighbours, and Locke returned to a life very different from the one he had left behind.

Life After the War

One thing about Locke: he looked remarkably young for his age.

Even into his forties, he could apparently pass for a man considerably younger. And, from all accounts, the ladies noticed.

His life after the war was colourful, complicated and very human.

Between his first marriage and his marriage to my birth mother, Eileen, another daughter was born.

Locke and Eileen went on to have a very large family together — 15 children.

So when people ask me how many brothers and sisters I have, the answer takes a little explaining.

There were the children from Locke’s earlier family, another daughter between the two marriages, the 15 children in my birth family, and then, when I was adopted, I joined another family with three brothers and two sisters.

I usually just smile and say:

“Well, there are 26 of us.”

It was a different time.

Life could be hard. Families were large. Money was often scarce. People worked in the woods, on the water, wherever they could find work, and they made do with what they had.

Locke did the same.

Whatever his faults — and like all of us, he certainly had them — he was remembered as having a kind heart and a loving spirit.

A Full Quiver

One of the stories that has always stayed with me comes from Locke’s funeral.

The minister who conducted his funeral was the same minister who had married Locke and Eileen more than forty years earlier.

After all those years, he still remembered Locke.

His message that day centred around the biblical image of a man whose quiver was full.

Considering the size of Locke’s family, it was certainly fitting.

Locke fathered a remarkable number of children, and today his family extends through generations of descendants.

His life was not simple.

It contained war, loss, hardship, mistakes, humour, family, work, love and resilience.

In other words, it was a human life.

And perhaps that is one of the reasons his story belongs in Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

Locke Hurlburt’s Legacy

While putting together the music video for “Locke Hurlburt’s Legacy,” I found myself looking at my father in a way I never really had before.

Some of the photographs are old and imperfect.

But when one was restored and enlarged, I found myself looking directly into my father’s eyes.

That was powerful.

The video follows his life from Yarmouth and the family he left behind, through war, homecoming, family and old age.

There is one moment where a soldier falls at precisely the right second in the song.

It wasn’t planned.

The first time I watched it, I hardly noticed it.

But once I did, it landed heavily.

Thankfully, Locke came home.

The song and video were created with the help of modern technology and artificial intelligence.

I make no secret of that.

There was a time when people were afraid of the camera. Some even believed having their photograph taken could somehow capture part of their soul.

Every new tool can be used badly.

But tools can also be used to preserve, create and give something back.

That is what I hope I am doing here.

Using the tools available to me to preserve stories that might otherwise disappear.

Touching Hearts and Opening Doors

At its heart, this project is not really about technology.

It is about people.

It is about sitting with a Senior or Elder, listening to their story and letting them know that their memories still matter.

Where possible, I want to take those stories and give something back — perhaps a song, a video, a podcast episode or simply the knowledge that someone listened.

You don’t need to create a song to take part.

You can help simply by visiting someone.

Sit down.

Have a cup of tea.

Ask a question.

Then listen.

Sometimes that is all it takes to touch a heart and open a door.

The Story is the Gift — The Song Helps You Hear It.

Links

Country Air Radio / CAR TV

https://CountryAirRadio.com

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Sidney Dillon Burrill9 October 1887 – 5 November 1965

He Lived to Serve — From War and Railway Mail to Community and Brotherhood

In this episode of Touching Hearts, Opening Doors, I remember my great-grandfather, Sidney Dillon Burrill, a man whose life was marked again and again by service.

Over the next three episodes, I’ll be honouring members of my family who served in the military: Sidney this week, my birth father, Locke Hurlburt, next week, and my adopted dad, Vic Hurlburt, the week after.

Sidney’s story, however, reaches far beyond his military service.

After serving during the First World War, he worked in the railway mail service. Our family knew of his work on the trains between Yarmouth and Halifax, but when I became the recipient of his scrapbook and journal, I learned that his work took him across routes throughout Nova Scotia and into New Brunswick.

Those old pages preserved a remarkable story from the time of the Halifax Explosion.

Sidney was aboard ship in Saint John Harbour, New Brunswick, when the explosion occurred in December 1917. According to his journal, they were waiting for another ship arriving from Massachusetts.

Three days later, Sidney sailed into Halifax Harbour not knowing whether his wife and infant daughter were alive, injured, or even still there.

Thankfully, they were away visiting family near Boston, Massachusetts.

And I say thankfully not only for Sidney’s sake, but for mine.

That infant daughter was my grandmother.

Sidney continued serving others long after the war.

Following his years in the railway mail service, he and fellow postal clerks helped establish a postal credit union in the basement of his home on Parker Street in Halifax. That organization would become part of the credit-union tradition that continues today.

Sidney was also deeply involved in Freemasonry. In 1937 and 1938, he served as Grand High Priest of the Nova Scotia Royal Arch, and his Masonic service and record were later remembered in the Royal Craftsman.

Military service. Railway mail. Credit union. Freemasonry. Family. Community.

Again and again, the same theme appears.

Sidney lived to serve.

I never had the opportunity to sit with him myself. He died before I was born.

But through the scrapbook and journal he left behind, through the stories passed down, and through the life he lived, I can still spend time with him in another way.

And perhaps that is part of what Touching Hearts, Opening Doors is all about.

Listening to the stories that remain.

Preserving them.

Passing them on.

And sometimes turning them into a song.

This episode includes the original song:

“Sidney D. Burrill — He Lived to Serve.”

Thank you to Sidney, and to all those who serve — in our Canadian military and in so many other ways — defending, protecting, helping, and caring for the things that matter most.

The Story is the Gift — The Song Helps You Hear It.

Links

Country Air Radio -

Locally inspired songs based on the places and people and their stories and memories. Country and Gospel Music and Local Happenings, past and present. https://CountryAirRadio.com

Touching Hearts, Opening Doors —

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Growing up on the Quaco Road in Port Maitland, Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia, in the late 1960s and early 1970s, everybody knew everybody.

And, yes, everybody pretty much knew everybody else’s business too.

That was partly because people were nosy—I won’t pretend otherwise—but it was also because neighbours looked out for one another.

I remember my dad making the rounds of the windows before going to bed at night. He wasn’t simply looking outside. He was looking for anything unusual: lights that shouldn’t be there, flames where there shouldn’t be flames, or perhaps somebody who didn’t belong.

That was part of being a neighbour.

And one of the neighbours I remember most fondly from those early childhood years was a woman who lived directly across the road from us.

Her name was Marion Jeffery, but to me she was simply Miss Jeffery.

The Lady Across the Road

By the time I knew Miss Jeffery, she was already an elderly woman.

Years earlier she had been a schoolteacher. She had never married, and in those days some people probably would have described her rather unkindly as an old spinster or even an old crone.

Some people certainly considered her a character.

I considered her a friend.

Miss Jeffery lived in a big old house with grey shingles, a creaky wooden door and an overgrown yard. There were roses and brambles, and I remember a beautiful rosebush where I would pick rosehips for many years afterward.

I also remember the house itself.

Years later, I played my song “Miss Jeffery’s Legacy” for one of my older brothers, who is nearly 20 years older than I am.

He smiled when he heard it. He remembered Miss Jeffery fondly too.

But he remembered something else.

The dust.

The cobwebs.

And perhaps he wasn’t quite as eager to eat those store-bought Fig Newtons as I was.

From the eyes of a five-year-old, though, the dust and cobwebs had somehow been swept away by the kindness of the woman who lived there.

That is what I remember.

The Day I Disappeared With Miss Jeffery

One of my favourite memories of Miss Jeffery also resulted in one of the very few spankings I remember receiving as a child.

Mom and Dad and I were outside near the woodpile one day when Miss Jeffery came out of her house and walked toward the road.

She called to me.

She was heading up to the village of Port Maitland to do some shopping and asked if I wanted to go with her.

Of course I did.

I was probably around five years old. I wasn’t thinking about anything except the great adventure of going to the village with Miss Jeffery.

So off we went.

We had a wonderful time.

Then I came home.

The problem wasn’t that I had gone anywhere with Miss Jeffery. Mom and Dad knew her. That wasn’t the issue at all.

The problem was that I hadn’t told them where I was going.

For more than 50 years I have occasionally thought, “Well, Miss Jeffery could have told them.”

Then, while recording this episode, something suddenly occurred to me that somehow never had before.

She may not have known I hadn’t told them.

That realization stopped me for a moment.

After all these years, I had been looking at that childhood memory from one angle.

Then suddenly the door opened from another.

That is one of the things I’m discovering through Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

Sometimes the heart being touched is mine.

Sometimes the door being opened is mine too.

What I Remember Most

I remember stepping onto Miss Jeffery’s stone step.

I remember knocking on that old wooden door.

I remember walking into the creaky house.

I remember her smile.

I remember her kindness.

And I remember Fig Newtons.

There was nothing fancy about it.

Yet a child felt welcome.

That matters.

Long before I ever came up with the name Touching Hearts, Opening Doors, Miss Jeffery was already showing me what those words could mean.

She opened her heart, and her door.

She shared what she had.

She gave a child her time.

And more than half a century later, I still remember.

About the Picture

I don’t have an actual photograph of Miss Jeffery.

I don’t know whether one even survives.

The image used with the song is a caricature created from the picture that remains in my own mind.

It isn’t meant to make fun of her.

Quite the opposite.

Miss Jeffery was a tall, large-framed woman. By the time I knew her, age had caused her to stoop somewhat. Her clothing might sometimes have been worn, dirty or out of style.

But none of that is what I remember most.

I remember her eyes.

I remember her heart.

When the song video begins, I invite you to look at those eyes.

The image may not actually be Miss Jeffery, but somehow, to me, it captures something of the woman I remember.

She didn’t have much interest in putting on the Ritz or putting on airs.

She was genuine.

She was kind.

And her heart seemed as big as all outdoors.

Miss Jeffery’s Legacy

The song I wrote for her is called “Miss Jeffery’s Legacy.”

That title fits because she did leave a legacy.

Not a grand public monument.

Not fame.

Not wealth.

A legacy on the heart of a child.

Every time I see or eat a Fig Newton, I still think of her.

And I wish that, back then, I had possessed what I have available today.

I wish I could have sat with her intentionally.

Asked about her years as a schoolteacher.

Asked about her childhood.

Asked about her family.

Asked about the things she had seen and experienced.

I wish I could have listened to her story and then given that story back to her in song.

But it was another time, another age and little technology.

Today, we can do something about that.

That Is What Touching Hearts, Opening Doors Is About

The first episodes of this project are built around stories I already know and songs I have already created.

But I want it to become more than that.

I want to sit with Seniors and Elders who are here today.

I want to listen.

I want to hear their stories and memories.

And, where appropriate and with permission, I want to turn some of those stories into songs and give those songs back to them.

The goal isn’t simply to produce content.

The goal is to spend time.

To listen.

To preserve.

To honour.

And perhaps, along the way, to remind the rest of us just how much wisdom and history may be sitting quietly behind a closed door.

Three Ways You Can Help

There are three ways you can support Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

The first is through the GiveSendGo campaign:

https://www.givesendgo.com/touching-hearts-opening-doors

There are real costs involved in doing this: transportation, fuel, equipment, online services, website expenses, USB drives or other ways of physically giving songs to Seniors who may not use modern devices.

So yes, donations help.

I’ll say it plainly.

I need your help.

I need gas money.

I need help covering the costs of getting out there and doing this.

The second way is something I believe is even more powerful:

Pray.

Pray that I’m led to the right people.

Pray that I take the time to listen properly.

Pray that I show respect.

Pray that, where a song comes from one of these visits, it becomes something meaningful to the person whose story inspired it.

And if you can’t donate, or prayer isn’t something you’re comfortable with, there is still a third way.

Go spend some time with a Senior.

Sit down.

Listen.

Maybe run an errand.

Share a cup of tea.

Give them your time.

A friend of mine, Ann, told me recently,

“Brian, I already do spend time with the seniors.”

That is wonderful.

Because the people she visits aren’t sitting alone during that time.

They have companionship.

They have friendship.

They have somebody who cares.

That is what this is really about.

Top Host

I’m also currently taking part in the Top Host competition:

https://tophost.org/2026/brian-hurlburt

Everyone can cast a free vote each day.

The competition includes the opportunity for a professionally produced six-episode iHeartRadio podcast, an opportunity associated with Ryan Seacrest, and a $25,000 cash prize.

Paid votes also help support the Ryan Seacrest Foundation, which operates media experiences for children in hospitals.

If I won, obviously that could do a great deal for Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

But I don’t necessarily expect to win.

What I do believe is t…

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Hi everyone, it is Brian Hurlburt here. Hopefully the wind isn’t too loud today.

Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

I love sitting and talking with our seniors, our Elders. If you listened to Episode 1 and my story about Ruth Cann, my square-dance partner, you’ll know a little more of my story and background and why I’m doing what I’m doing.

But I thought today I’d do something a little bit different and maybe continue on with that story—or maybe give you another reason why I enjoy talking to seniors.

Yes, I grew up having older parents, and many times their friends were my friends. But there’s something special about our Elders: their wisdom, the years they’ve spent, and now, sadly, many times they sit alone.

Well, today I’m going to tell you about a man who meant a lot to me growing up, who I knew as Uncle Tom.

Let me say it:

Uncle Tom didn’t stand very tall, but when it came to hunting and guiding hunters, he stood above the rest.

That’s why I’ve chosen to do this episode outside with this background. This is real—as real as it gets. No, that’s not wallpaper.

Somebody asked me one time, “Well, why are you wearing that camouflage shirt?”

If you come from where I come from, it was either camouflage or plaid—and usually a red doe-skin, which is a type of jacket, for those who don’t know.

Uncle Tom wasn’t exactly my uncle by blood. But, as so many in the community were known in those days by either Uncle or Aunt, especially the older people, our Elders and seniors around us, he became Uncle Tom.

Through my adopted family, Aunt Juanita and her husband George Brittain, Tom Jeffrey became known to me simply as Uncle Tom.

No, he didn’t stand very tall, but when it came time for the hunters to get their game, Uncle Tom definitely stood above the rest.

And that’s what the story is about today.

I was fortunate. I knew Uncle Tom, his wife, and his family. Some of us were pretty close back then. Sadly, I don’t get to see many of them very often anymore. We connect once in a while.

I miss them. I miss Uncle Tom.

But I hope through telling his story, preserving those stories—Uncle Tom’s Tall Tale and stories like it—those stories will live on.

Not only outlasting the people the stories are about, but perhaps outlasting myself as well, to be handed down through the generations. Maybe not just in his family, but in other families.

Remembering these stories, I think, is important.

Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

Now, before I share the song, let me tell you the story.

Because even though this song talks about Uncle Tom’s Tall Tale, it wasn’t actually a tall tale.

It just got taller in the telling.

Uncle Tom, my dad, Vic Hurlburt, and I went down between East Kemptville and Upper Ohio, Yarmouth and Shelburne Counties, Nova Scotia.

Hear that Blue Jay?

Maybe somebody’s sending me a message.

Anyway, I went with Uncle Tom and Dad down to what is known as the **Big Rock—the Big Split Rock—**halfway between East Kemptville and Upper Ohio.

Many of you will know where that is. Some of you perhaps will have the opportunity someday to see it.

It’s big. It’s split. The split is big enough that you can barely walk through it, depending—depending on how big you are.

The last time I was there, I could get through, but that’s been a number of years ago.

Actually, I think the last time I was there was probably with Dad and Uncle Tom. I’ve driven by since, but as far as actually stopping there…

There’s a little trail or footpath that leads out behind that Big Rock. And if you follow it to the right place, you’ll come to the bear den.

See, Uncle Tom guided hunters.

And I know from my own guiding experience—and this isn’t about me, but I’ll share this anyway—because a lot of times when I used to guide bird hunters, upland game bird hunters for Timberdoodle, or Woodcock, Ruffed Grouse, and sometimes Ring-necked Pheasant, there were a lot of times that they would unload their guns.

When I was young and sharp—18 or 19 years old maybe, maybe early 20s—I was a crack shot, and all I had was a little single-barrel Cooey 16-gauge shotgun.

They would unload their shotguns and the Woodcock would still be going.

And when I knew they were done firing, I’d shoot and drop the bird.

That helped keep the dog happy.

Helped keep the hunters happy too—and respecting their guide.

And that brings me to a similar story, the one we’re here to hear today, about Uncle Tom and how he went behind that Big Split Rock and found that bear den.

I’m sure he had been there to check that den on many occasions.

But this particular day—not the day we were with him, but the day of the story—he had a couple of sports hunters there on a bear hunt.

Uncle Tom didn’t stand very tall, but he was certainly spunky.

And like I say, when it came to guiding hunters, he stood above the rest.

That’s not just a line.

Uncle Tom crawled into that bear den and chased the bear out.

Now, I don’t recommend that.

But that’s what Uncle Tom did.

And as that bear took off and headed down across those barrens, those hunters unloaded their guns.

When Uncle Tom crawled out of that bear den, he could still see that bear going.

And he shot.

And he dropped that bear barely before it disappeared out of sight.

Now, that’s what our song today is about, and that’s what the memory is about.

But there are so many memories out there.

Hopefully you enjoy this song. Hopefully you enjoy the story.

And you can tell that I love these stories, these memories, and Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

Well, now you know Uncle Tom’s Tall Tale.

And, as I said, it’s not a tall tale that didn’t happen.

It did happen.

Before I ever heard the tale, I was taken to the spot and shown where it happened.

Then I was told the story right there on the spot by my dad and Uncle Tom.

The story was also confirmed by Tom’s grandson from Yarmouth and was well known in the local area at the time.

So I hope you enjoyed that story and that song.

And I hope you’ll support my efforts with Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

There are three ways you can do that.

Our GiveSendGo campaign: make a donation. I’ll see that it’s put to good use, whether that’s transportation, gas, expenses, maybe a USB stick if that’s the only way I can give someone their song.

And I’ll go in and sit down and talk to the seniors.

Listen.

Spend time.

Get their story.

And when I have permission, share that story, give it back to them in song, and share it through CountryAirRadio.com.

I appreciate you. I appreciate your support.

And, as I said, there are three ways.

One is, yes, your donation is greatly appreciated.

If you can’t do that right now, I know times are hard and many people are hurting.

Pray.

Prayer is the most powerful thing.

And if you can’t do either of those, at least go spend some time with a senior.

Go sit and listen.

Give them your time.

You know:

The Story is the Gift — The Song Helps You Hear It.

[Music — “Uncle Tom’s Tall Tale”]

Now, just before I close off this week, our housekeeping tip:

Scrub your floor.

No.

The housekeeping about this video, about Touching Hearts, Opening Doors, and other things that are going on with Country Air Radio and myself.

CountryAirRadio.com has a new website and a new look. Go have a look. Tell me what you think.

I’ve also been uploading and creating this week a live channel.

And I’ve created Brian Hurlburt Music, where you can listen to these songs.

I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you’re listening to this, I consider you a friend.

Be a friend of the seniors.

Go visit one today.

And if you can’t do that, and if you need to reach out but you don’t have the time, then perhaps donate to our GiveSendGo campaign, our fundraiser for Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

I’ll do my best to use that money respectfully and honestly for paying expenses and getting out there and meeting the seniors.

Yes, the first episodes of our Touching Hearts, Opening Doors podcast are going to be based on the stories I already have, the songs I’ve already created, and the people I’ve already spent time with.

Your reaction and your support will help gauge how far this thing goes.

There are …

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit brianhurlburt.substack.com/subscribe

Episode 1 of Touching Hearts, Opening Doors

Ruth Cann was never actually my teacher, but when I was in Grade 3, she became my square-dance partner. Years later, she became my neighbour and friend. This first episode is about Ruth, the last time I saw her, and why listening to our Elders while they are still here matters so much.

Ruth CannDecember 24, 1913 – July 28, 2023Teacher for 37 years. Square-dance partner, neighbour, friend — and, at 105, still finding new adventures.

Support the Journey

Touching Hearts, Opening Doors — GiveSendGoSupport the outreach directly and help with the practical costs of visiting Seniors and Elders, preserving their stories, and creating songs from their memories.https://www.givesendgo.com/touching-hearts-opening-doors

Top HostVote free daily for Brian Hurlburt in the Top Host competition. Paid votes also help support the Ryan Seacrest Foundation and its work in children’s hospitals.https://tophost.org/2026/brian-hurlburt

Country Air RadioHear more songs and stories inspired by local people, places, memories, and history at: https://CountryAirRadio.com

Thank you for listening, for remembering Ruth with me, and for being part of this journey — Touching Hearts, Opening Doors.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit brianhurlburt.substack.com/subscribe