This photo is titled “Hospital Day, 1926, St. Mary’s Hospital,” but at one time was also captioned “Baby Day.” Note the French spelling of the hospital at that time. It is another example of Francos making their home in Lewiston and Maine. Courtesy of the Franco-American Collection, University of Southern Maine Libraries

I’d like to make a confession — or as the French would put it: faire une confession. 

Although my name is LaFlamme, which is about as French as you can get, I know very little about my heritage. 

I know my forebears came to Maine from Quebec just a couple generations back, but I never had a clear understanding of why they left Canada in the first place. 

I know that until the late 1600s, the name “LaFlamme” didn’t exist at all, and I only know this because years back, some nice fellow put together a family tree for me and it included some interesting details. 

Apparently, at one time, my byline in this newspaper would have read “Marc Quemeneur.”

Why the switch? Apparently it happened when one François Quemeneur came from France to settle family land at what is now Saint-François-de-l’Île-d’Orléans in Quebec. 

Ol’ François liked to play with fire apparently. 

“Concerned about seeing boats stranded on the shores of his land during darkness,” according to the history, “he decided to build a fire on the shore. When the villagers saw him with the fire on the bank of his land, they would say, ‘Look at The Flame in the distance!’ Hence the nickname Quémeneur dit La Flamme.” 

I know that between the 1840s and 1930s, French Canadians in huge numbers made their way south and into the U.S. and that my progenitors were among them.

I know that my father, the late David “Pete” LaFlamme, was the first in my family line to be born in the U.S. rather than in Quebec.

And there ends the extent of my knowledge of where I come from and how I got here. 

The author’s pepere, Pierre Joseph Ovilda LaFlamme, with the author’s brother Stephen. Submitted photo

Parley-voo Français?

Fortunately for me, there are people like Camden Martin, who teaches French at St. Dominic Academy here in town and who happens to know quite a lot about Franco history. 

And when I say the man knows a lot about the history of French Canadians, I mean he knows a LOT. 

Martin is a fellow who studied in France and who worked, for a time, in Quebec. He’s a board member of the Franco-American Collection at the University of Southern Maine, the Alliance Française du Maine, and the Maine Franco-American Genealogical Society. 

The man is such an authority that he’s currently in the middle of a six-week course at USM’s Lewiston-Auburn campus called “The History of New France and Franco-American New England.” 

The class doesn’t merely cover the matter of French Canadians coming to the U.S. It explores the matter of how they came to be French Canadians in the first place. 

“I wanted to teach a class that really dives into information about why French Canadians immigrated to Lewiston and Auburn,” Martin says. “How did that fit in the greater scheme of things for New England? But also, what were the factors contributing to people leaving Canada to come here?” 

Martin also means to explore the way the French were able to maintain their culture while living in a country that was completely foreign to them. 

“My great-grandmother, who was born in Lewiston, probably had some working knowledge of English — but never had to speak it,” Martin says. “She lived her life in Lewiston, which kind of demonstrates that ability for a group of people to hold onto their language, whether that’s through bilingual parochial schools or by being involved in mutual aid organizations that were founded by French Canadians.”

This photo shows one of the many ways local French Canadians adapted to life as Franco-Americans here: a celebration of Saint Jean-Baptiste Day in 1897. Saint Jean-Baptiste is the patron saint of Quebec, and when French Canadians immigrated to Maine, they brought this celebration with them. The float pictured is a replica of French explorer Jacques Cartier’s ship La Grande Hermine. Courtesy of the Franco-American Collection, University of Southern Maine Libraries

Restoring a sense of pride

As it turns out, there are a lot of people like me who don’t have a vast understanding of their own French Canadian backgrounds. For a long period, Martin explains, the French who came here didn’t talk much about it, so their children and grandchildren may have grown up with big gaps in their knowledge.

It shouldn’t be like that anymore, Martin says. French Canadians should celebrate their histories.

“One of the things I want to do for people of French-Canadian descent,” Martin says, “is that if they don’t already have a sense of pride, maybe I can help with that.” 

For one thing, he says, he can teach anyone who is interested how to learn more about their own family histories. 

“I can give them the tools, or give them directions to where they need to look if they want to pursue research,” he says. 

Ultimately, many French Canadians settled in Lewiston-Auburn and they became accepted parts of the population. Gone were the days of “French need not apply” signs that once appeared in local storefront windows. 

French-Canadian parents who maybe never learned to speak English well themselves, nonetheless insisted that their children master the language — as did many of the schools. 

What the French endured in order to assimilate and settle here, Martin says, is relevant to other cultures who come to America. 

“Whether you’re French Canadian or Somali,” he says, “the idea is that when you come to the United States, you definitely have to learn English. We want people to be a part of our society while at the same time, it’s important to hold on to who you are. It’s OK to navigate dual identities.” 

This photo is of women workers at the Bates textile mill circa 1920. One of the reasons people immigrated to the area was more job opportunities, which the textile mills offered in large numbers. Courtesy of the Franco-American Collection, University of Southern Maine Libraries

Having ‘misery for dinner’

Martin has an easy way of explaining concepts, and talking to him about matters of the French Canadian population is fascinating — more fascinating than I can describe in the space I have here. 

Since I’m not able to sit in on his class personally, I thought I’d try to cheat a little and get answers about the wanderings of my own forebears, who arrived mainly in the Winslow-Waterville area after coming down from Quebec. 

Why, I asked Martin, did my people leave Canada to try to build lives in a place that would have been foreign and strange to them? 

The answer isn’t simple, although Martin cleanly satisfied my curiosity on the matter. 

“Most French-Canadian families were farmers,” he tells me. “They had reached a certain threshold. There weren’t many more economic avenues that were feasible at that time to continue farming. The land had already been distributed. They had debts and things like that. It really has a lot to do with economics.” 

So, my struggling ancestors came to the U.S., the glorious Land of Opportunity to their south, in hopes of prospering in a way that was impossible in Canada.

“What Mémère and Pépère would say about it translated to something like, ‘We used to eat misery for dinner. Now we go to the United States to make a better living.'” 

The goal of those French-Canadians, Martin says, was to make enough money in the U.S. that they could someday return to Canada, pay off their debts and maybe buy more land. 

Instead, many of them found themselves adapting to American life, Martin says. They got married, had kids and ultimately decided to stay. 

I, for one am thankful, because had my pépère, Pierre Joseph Ovilda LaFlamme, decided to pack up and move back to Canada, chances are good I wouldn’t be here to astound you all with my origin story. 

And by the way, Lawrence Joseph Lachance, who put together my family tree for me a few years back, ultimately learned — no doubt to his horror — that he and I are seventh cousins once removed. 

That’ll teach him to go poking around. 

This ice palace was built in Lewiston City Park, now known as Kennedy Park, in February 1925 as a feature of the first International Snowshoe Congress, organized by members of the area’s Franco community. Courtesy of the Franco-American Collection, University of Southern Maine Libraries

A bit more (‘un peu plus’) about Camden Martin 

It’s no wonder Camden Martin is so popular locally as a speaker on the topic of Franco-American history. 

The man was born in Lewiston, grew up in Auburn and attended Edward Little High School until his sophomore year, when he left to attend the Lycée Albert Camus in Nîmes, France. 

After graduating from both Edward Little and Lycée Albert Camus, Martin took a year sabbatical during which time he worked in French language customer service and studied environmental protection at the Cégep Saint Félicien in Québec, Canada.  

Back in Maine, he worked at Museum L-A, now known as Maine MILL, before becoming a French teacher and director of enrollment at Saint Dominic Academy, where he “continues to spread his love of the French language and culture and to inspire future generations.” 

Martin has been involved in promoting the French language across Maine for numerous years. His class going on right now at USM-LAC is being offered in-person only, every Thursday night from 5:30 to 6:30 p.m. until the course winds down on Feb. 27. Right now it’s full, but those interested in the course can contact Anna Flaherty, archivist at the college’s Franco American Collection. Openings may arise, and Flaherty says the college may offer the class again in the future. She can be reached at 207-753-6545 and by email at anna.faherty@maine.edu.

Martin is covering a lot of territory in his course, from the European colonization of the Saint Lawrence River Valley, to the British conquest of what was then called “New France,” to the economic and social factors behind the mass exodus of French Canadians to Maine and New England. And lastly, how they all adapted to life here, while preserving their language, faith, and customs.

Yes, it’s a lot of history, but you may also find — like I did — that history can be pretty interesting when it gets personal.

This map, created by an English cartographer in 1755, is titled “A New and Accurate Map of the English Empire in North America: Representing their Rightful Claim as confirmed by the Charters and the formal Surrender of their Indian Friends; Likewise the Encroachments of the French, with the several Forts they unjustly erected therein. By a Society of Anti-Gallicans.” The historical context provided by the Osher Map Library at USM states: “This map, made after the onset of hostilities (between the French and British), is perhaps the most blatant of the British propaganda maps. The issuers, a ‘Society of Anti-Gallicans’ make no pretense of impartiality, and present an aggressive and overtly partisan statement of British territorial claims. The title of the map describes the British position as a ‘Rightful claim as confirm’d by Charters,’ and refers to the ‘Encroachment of the French, with the several Forts they have unjustly erected.’ Inscriptions and colored lines define exaggerated British claims which are, in fact, ‘encroachments’ on New France!” Osher Map Library