nting, fishing and trapping grounds and dumped into territories already claimed and used by the original inhabitants of their new communities, the families from Hebron and Nutak plunged into deep poverty and despair — the usual destination for someone robbed of a purpose in life and of the means to feed loved ones.
Given the mood and condition of their occupants, there’s probably no way a Hebron house could have become anyone’s happy home at the time, no matter if they had been the finest houses ever created.
However, they were far from perfect. Although they are clearly sturdy (judging by those that have survived the years), they were poorly insulated and, as a result, could be quite drafty and bitterly cold, especially for anyone sleeping on the upper floor.
They usually weren’t put in good locations, either.
The ones in North West River, for example, were constructed on unwanted boggy ground away from the higher and drier areas. Many of the houses anywhere were not used for long by the people for whom they were designed, just as many of the dislocated didn’t always remain in the communities to which they had first been shipped. Makkovik reports that few of the 150 people who were moved there from Hebron in 1959 settled permanently.
Unloved as they were, Labrador’s Hebron houses have been allowed to steadily disappear — unnoticed and unmourned. Nain’s last two (one of which had served as a residence for OKalaKatiget Society employees) were demolished more than a decade ago.
I can’t say if any are left in any other communities, but I know of one in Sheshatshiu, one and a part of the roof of another in North West River, and now of at least five in Makkovik — three of which are inhabited, one of which is uninhabited but in good repair, and one of which is rotting away on crumbling posts and will likely not last another winter.
Before any more of them disappear, the Hebron house should be recognized for its historical significance — not for sentimental reasons, certainly, but as a loud reminder that violating human rights in general, and committing forced relocations in particular, always ends in disaster.
Michael Johansen is a writer
living in Labrador.