From Toronto sock to Newfoundland museum - soldier's First World War medals returned home
Pte. Hiram Mutford of Crow Head served with the Royal Newfoundland Regiment in WW I
In 1968, a coin sock was left behind in a Toronto apartment, apparently filled with coins and other unwanted objects.
But when Sgt. Ralph Feisthauer opened the sock last February — he knew in an instant that what was inside would be invaluable for a pair of military families.
"My parents didn't know anything about these, they just said they were coins," said Feisthauer.
"They brought them out, I looked at them and I said, 'These are medals, they belong to somebody."'
One medal belonged to Pte. Hiram George Mutford, who was a member of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment.
Feisthauer knew the medal needed to be returned to the private's family.
Working with Christopher Harvie of If Ye Break Faith, Feisthauer desperately searched for Mutford's next of kin to reunite the medal.
But finding a family connection to Mutford would not be easy.
Originally a fisherman from Crow Head, on North Twillingate Island, Mutford joined the First World War effort in 1916 at the age of 21.
He was captured by German forces, and died a Prisoner of War. He had no children, and his brother Albert also died in that war.
Unlikely Connection
But the search for relatives of Mutford eventually turned up a lead.
"Last year, shortly after returning the first set of medals, I returned a phone call from someone in the area," said Sgt. Feisthauer. "And we ended up playing telephone tag."
"But somehow the trail got cold. We didn't know what was going on. We figured maybe there's no next of kin that's interested."
The search slowed, until April when Feisthauer attended a family party in Ottawa.
"My cousin was dating this girl who happened to be from Newfoundland," Feisthauer said.
I guess you could call it a miracle — that's about it.- Margaret Dove
"And of course, my wife's from Newfoundland ... they started talking, and then lo and behold, turns out she's actually related to this guy that we're trying to return the Mutford medals to."
Feisthauer said he was in pure shock when he realized the coincidence. He knew that he would be able to return the medals to the town hall, or to the Royal Newfoundland Regiment — but he was set on finding Mutford's family.
"By finding this family connection, all the sudden all of the pieces came together. It was amazing, and [an] incredible feeling."
Pieces of Lost History
A ceremony was held in Crow Head on Friday to mark the return of the Mutford medals. A large crowd for the small community gathered inside a hall to hear about Mutford's service, and how the piece of history was returned.
The medals sat inside a shadow box that was built by Feisthauer in honour of Mutford. They sat beside a framed photograph of the private, that has its own discovery story.
"It's sort of a coincidence that over 30 years ago a framed picture of Pte. Hiram Mutford was found in an old building in Durrell when a family that purchased the house did some major renovations and found the picture in the attic," said Robert Stockley, president of the Durrell Museum Corporation.
The framed photo was passed along to a relative of Mutford, who donated the picture to the Durrell museum. Mutford's relatives have decided to also donate the medals.
"We'll ensure that the medals too will be appropriately documented, catalogued and along with the picture will be honoured in the Durrell museum and displayed with all the honour, dignity and recognition they so well deserve."
But that's not all.
Margaret Dove, a distant relative of Mutford's, had a shiny connection to the man being honoured at the day's ceremony.
Pinned to her shirt was a brooch made of shell, that was passed down for generations.
It belonged to Annie Mutford, Hiram's mother.
"I inherited the brooch about three or four years ago from relatives," said Dove. "It's very special."
Dove said standing inside the hall of her hometown in Crow Head where Mutford also grew up, standing across from the medals dedicated to him for his service that spent nearly five decades inside a sock in Toronto, and wearing Mutford's mother's broach, was an incredible feeling.
"I guess you could call it a miracle — that's about it."