By Heather Wilson, Archivist
One thing about working in an Archives – you just never know what is going to show up on your desk.
A short time ago we received an unusual donation: two aluminum vinyl records from the Second World War, found hidden inside the walls of a house in Napanee. These records, known as “voice letters,” were a way for soldiers to send recorded messages home. In this case, they contained heartfelt messages from Gunner Alfred Thomas Sutton, who served overseas in the Royal Canadian Artillery, to his family back in Strathcona, Ontario.
[Featured image above (L to R): Archivist Heather Wilson, Archives friend Cam Eadie, the donors and friend Bill Walravern.]
Discovering Alfred's Voice
The story of these records is as fascinating as the records themselves. The couple who discovered them had been renovating their kitchen in the late 1990s when they uncovered a sealed envelope inside a wall. In this envelope they found two records and wooden gramophone needles, still in pristine condition. Captivated, they kept the records for more than 20 years, hoping to one day hear the voice they preserved.
When a friend tracked down a record player earlier this year they came to us to play the records for the first time here in the Archives. The first side was muffled and difficult to hear. On the second, Alfred’s message began, “Hello sweetheart… This is Saturday afternoon, September the 27th.” In his brief message, Alfred spoke of receiving a parcel from his wife, shared his hopes to return to “good old Canada” soon, and sent love to his family. No year is given, but with a bit of sleuthing and logic we have narrowed this down to 1941.
At this time we don’t know how many of these voice letters have survived. In researching them we found scattered references in the US and the UK, and a rare few mentions in Canada. This is the only of its kind in our holdings. We do know that aluminum was gathered and melted down to supply the war effort. Many of these voice letters may have met that fate.
Transcription of Voice Letter of Alfred Sutton (side 2):
Hello sweetheart. [Muffled] records. This is Saturday afternoon September the 27th. Well dear how are you, and the children getting along, over there, in Canada? I am well but [muffled] [get] lonesome for you and the boys. But never mind, dear. You… I will be back, in good old Canada again, one of these days. I got your packet ok and [muffled] sure do come in handy. Well now [muffed], take good care of yourself and the boys. And remember I … love you always. [Muffled] [keep our friends in mind] and good luck. Good luck sweetheart. [Give all my love to you and the boys]. Yours forever. Al. God bless you. [Muffled]. Take good care of yourself. Bye now. [muffled]. Goodbye.
The Life of Gunner Alfred Sutton
Alfred Richard Thomas Sutton was born in Leeds, England, in 1906 and moved to Canada with his family in 1913. By age 15, he was working in Strathcona as a laborer and later took up work at the local paper mill. In 1939, he married Constance Pringle, and together they had two sons.
Alfred also enlisted in the war effort, joining the 14th Field Regiment, and shipped out to England. His voice letter was recorded while he was stationed in Aldershot.
Little details are currently known regarding Alfred’s life following the war, but we do know he survived the war and returned home. Alfred died at the Lennox and Addington County General Hospital on Monday, June 12, 1967 at 61 years of age. At the time of his death he lived with Constance at the house where his voice letters would later be found. His sons had relocated to Saskatoon and Colorado.
From Behind a Wall to the Archives
How these records ended up hidden in the kitchen wall of Alfred’s home remains a mystery. Now, thanks to the generosity of the couple who found them, these voice letters are preserved in the Archives, a moving reminder of the resilience and connection between those who served and the families they left behind.
The recordings may be brief, and a bit muffled, but hearing Alfred’s voice still gives me goosebumps. We have plenty of letters from the war, but actually hearing someone’s voice from that time? That’s rare. I can only imagine what it must have meant to Alfred’s family back then, waiting and wondering when, or even if, he’d come home. It’s easy to forget these days—we can pick up the phone anytime and reach anyone, anywhere in the world. For Alfred’s family though, those few words would have been everything. They capture a real and powerful reminder of the sacrifices made and the hope that kept people going, even through the darkest times.
