skip to main |
skip to sidebar
In 2004, when I visited Edmonton - always regarded as my home town - I was impressed with Sir Winston Churchill Square. The pool which sits in front of City Hall is surrounded by other attractive private and public buildings such as the art gallery, the Citadel Theatre, the main library and the City Centre Mall. Development of the square as Edmonton's main public space was envisioned in the city plan as early as the 1950's. If you look closely at the left of the photo, you can see that the improvements undertaken to celebrate the 100th birthday of the city are underway. These included a waterfall and an amphitheatre.
This stairway in the lobby of the Edmonton city hall leads up to the Council Chamber. The city hall was opened in 1992. I love the way the windows flood the room with light and emphasize the beauty of the sky. The city enjoys beautiful skies at any time of year even on the coldest days of winter.
BIKE TRIP FROM EDMONTON TO SARNIA
On May 13, 1979, my father set off from Edmonton on his bike to make a long-distance trip to where his brother, Albert, lived in Sarnia, Ontario. According to his log, he had covered a distance of 4,321 kilometers when he had completed the trip.
He had saddle bags on his bike - a British-made three-speed Triumph - and carried his camping gear with him, intending to camp with his tent most nights. At the outset, he weighed in and recorded in his log a weight of 170 lbs. for himself and 78 lbs. for the loaded bike, a total of 248 lbs.
Before he left, he contacted the Edmonton Journal and the Lions Club. The Journal, which had covered his trip to Vancouver, asked him to phone in every week with progress reports. The Lions Club gave him introductions to some of their club presidents along his route.
His route went east from Edmonton, then north on the graveled Hanson Lake Road to Flin Flon, and east to Sarnia on the highway that follows the north shore of Lake Superior.
While reading his log, which I still have, several themes emerged:
he is very much in tune with nature and comments frequently about plants, animals and weather conditions
he takes every opportunity to chat with people he meets along the way, and loves good conversation
he is often assisted by people, invited into their homes for coffee, allowed on a rainy day to pitch his tent in their yard or, on one occasion, to sleep in their trailer, and has great appreciation for this help
he is interested in his surroundings, in people, and in their history
he has a sense of humour and an appreciation of the absurd
he is comfortable and self-sufficient living the outdoor life, but becomes very tired and discouraged by the strong head winds, long hills, black flies, and mosquitoes he encounters in northern Ontario, and
finally, he stubbornly refuses to give up on his goal.
All of this is best be described in his own words in excerpts from the log he kept.
May 16, 1979
At 1 p.m. started raining. Wind stronger from east... Got soaked... Heavy spray being blown across road by strong NE wind. Decided to walk on left shoulder pushing my bike...When I reached Blackfoot access, discovered no motels, so pushed on being soaked to the skin and a bit cold. Arrived at Lloyd at 6 p.m. and stopped at first motel "Ivanhoe" and registered. The lady recognized me as the biker going to Ontario and said it's on the house, so I got a $22.00 room free. Unpacked everything to dry out and took a hot bath. I now feel decidedly better. (Ended the day in Lloydminster, logged at 276 km. from Edmonton.)
May 18, 1979
Another shower. Got pretty wet. Rode into farmyard. Clay slippery. Fell in mud. Got wheels thoroughly plugged. Got back on the highway - cleaned out bike. Head wind. Very hilly. Also very tired. (Ended the day in North Battleford, Saskatchewan, logged at 437 km. from Edmonton.)
May 19, 1979
Went to the hall where the Jennings-Pobran wedding reception was held. A big line of people moved to the head table with gifts while the band from Saskatoon played short lively bursts of music and the people who had given their gifts gyrated wildly to some polkas (Kolemenka).
The general dancing started about 11 p.m. There were waltzes, polkas, a butterfly and some rock and roll. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, meeting a lot of charming people and dancing till 1 a.m. These small towns have a genuine friendliness which is now often lost in the large cities. (Ended the day in Hafford, Saskatchewan, logged at 498 km. from Edmonton).
May 21, 1979
Reached P. A. Had lunch at Sheraton Hotel. Then phoned Mr. Doug Lloyd, Pres. of the local Lions Club for whom I had an introduction. Rode over to his house and he offered to let me stay in his trailer... Had dinner with the Lloyd's... Had some flapper pie with real farm cream which was delicious. After supper Mr. Lloyd took me for a tour of the city. Visited the famous penitentiary. Also Red Lake Park and Keyhole House which is a turn of the century mansion with red tile rode and dormer windows in the shape of large keyholes, hence the name. It was a very enjoyable stay. (Ended the day in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan, logged at 648 km. from Edmonton.)
May 24, 1979
Little traffic, strong south wind at 10 a.m. New grade being constructed. 1 mile of walking, stopped for lunch at a lovely little restaurant and bar at Mile 62. At 12:30 a van with two fishermen from Saskatoon stopped and offered me a cold beer.
Arrived at Highways maintenance yard. Here Dave and Joan Pelech not only let me pitch my tent among the pines, but invited me to supper and later we played ... that universal Highways card game, Oh Hell. A very good day terminating in an enjoyable evening. (Ended the day at Junction Hwy. 165, logged at 900 km. from Edmonton.)
May 25, 1979
Stopped for a drink at Ballantyne River. Some fishermen were frying some pickerel and they invited me to join them and I had two big glasses of iced tea which suited me admirably. (Ended the day in Deschambault, Saskatchewan logged at 983 km.)
May 26, 1979
After the dust and bumps of the last 200 miles it was wonderful to reach pavement again. At 4 p.m. arrived at Pawastick Lodge which is beside a lovely little lake and having a government campsite across the road. Barry & Deane Ogdan invited me over for drinks to celebrate his birthday and later we had supper including strawberry short cake. I promised to cook breakfast for them tomorrow... Perfect weather and delightful company. (Ended the day at Pawastick Lodge, Saskatchewan logged at 1051 km.)
May 27/28, 1979
In evening, walked over to Willowvale where I looked at the house I built on Parkway Blvd. and visited with my neighbor Jack Martin. Over rum and cokes we talked about old times till 1 a.m.
Decided to take today off... Then Barrie Ogden came to get me ... for a 20-minute interview with CFAR radio. Then to the Flin Flon Hotel for lunch with Jack Heins of the Lions Club. Visited main office (HBM&S)... Rode my bike to Phantom Lake and called on Garnet Eidt who played some guitar music. Had supper with the Ogdens and slept there over night... Saw the Remainder article... Radio station had excerpts of my interview on the air. Ended the day in Flin Flon, Manitoba logged at 1,110 km.)
May 30, 1979
Arrived at The Pas and after checking with the town hall and getting a map, registered at Rupert House Hotel run by Shorty Rusick who was a famous dog musher. I met him in the hotel and talked with him, but he is a bit deaf... he is 87 years old... Had a couple of beers in the Kelsey Room of the New Avenue Hotel. There were many Indians and there was an unmistaken atmosphere of northern Manitoba. At the door, as one entered, was a sign which said, "Those creating a disturbance, will be charged." However, all was peaceful and quiet...
After dinner... interviewed Shorty Rusick who now had his hearing aid on. Used Alaska Hitch., 7 dogs. Dog food: little balls of gound beef. About 12 teams started. Any number of dogs could be entered... Rode sleigh most of the way but helped by pushing on hills or in soft snow. Dogs were mongrel: part wolf. All brothers and sisters... He gave me a photo of himself and team. (Ended the day in The Pas, Manitoba logged 1,281 km.)
June 1, 1979
Four Flin Floner's going south stopped and gave me a drink of whiskey. I'll have to watch this does not happen too often as I'd hate to be picked up for being impaired.
Lake Winnipegosis. Pelicans. Red Deer River running full. Approaching Mafeking, sides of road are green and neat and the R/A (right-of-way) is very wide. Saw my first dandelions. Stopped at Mafeking and had a good meal. Fresh lake trout. Strong N breeze, so benefiting from this favourable wind went on to Birch Lake, and made the 35 km in about 2 hrs.
Went to a nice little gov't campsite where a party of 8 guys from Russel were stopped for a meal They called me over and poured me a generous drink and set a plate with cabbage rolls, home made country sausage, pickles and other delicasees. Although I had eaten not too long before, I couldn't help but have another good meal in congenial company. Set up my tent and lit a camp fire... This is a very lovely spot in poplars, the underbrush having been cleared away. (Ended the day in Birch River, Manitoba logged at 1, 486 km.)
June 2, 1979
From Bowsman West, the wind was so strong I had to push my bike and walk. Arrived at Swan River ... and phoned Mrs. Heiman who is the mother of the Edmonton Journal reporter who edits my weekly reports and she invited me over for supper.
The valley from Birch River to Swan River is very beautiful, trees are now in leaf and there is lush green grass. Farmers are busy trying to get their crops in. Noted many American toursits towing huge motor homes...
Went to Heiman's for a nice meal and there Martha Heiman interviewed me for the local paper. (Ended the day in Swan River, Manitoba logged at 1,528 km.)
June 5, 1979
Wakened at 5 a.m. by birds chirping and owl hooting. Beaver swimming and feeding. Cooked breakfast in drizzle. Away at 7, but not far. Heavy rain... ran into farmhouse (Lebel)... Her mother who was visiting ... was a Van de Poele, Belgian, spoke French. Invited me to stay for lunch. Very nice. (Ended the day in Ste. Rose du Lac, Manitoba logged at 1,763 km.)
June 8, 1979
Barely out of Oak Point the right pedal came apart. Unpacked and made a temporary repair with hay wire. Resumed ride at 9:30. Good going, there being a following wind just about all the way and my repair holding well. Tomorrow I will get ... my bike looked after and visit friends (his neice, Claudette and her husband). (Ended the day in Winnipeg, Manitoba logged at 2,044 km.)
June 12, 1979
After a breakfast of hot cakes, set out for Kenora. I have been warned that the road gets narrower once I enter Ontario... Here it is definitely the Pre-Cambrian Shield and the road is more winding and hilly. Also there is now a bit of a head wind. Stopped at Granite Lake where the two cyclists from Carman who had left before me had ordered and paid for coffee and a piece of pie for me. A nice surprise.
Finally arrived at Kenora ... Set up tent. Not too bad a campsite. I got quite a sunburn on my arms and legs. Also skidded in loose sand and fell and skinned by knee. The heat and numerous hills made this a very tiring day. Have now completed about 46% of the trip. I sometimes wonder if it is worth it. (Ended the day in Kenora, Ontario logged at 2,302 km.)
June 14, 1979
Packed and ready to roll at 9 a.m. CBC Edmonton phoned and had a 5-minute interview. Shoulders are now paved. Hooray! However, after a few miles they disappeared. A Dept. of Hwys truck stopped and talked with me. Said he had heard the CBC broadcast. Wished me Good Luck. (Ended the day in Stewart Lake, Ontario logged at 2,371 km.)
June 15, 1979
Camped at Stewart Lake Resort... This stopping place is run by Lynn and Bill Krolyk who also have a flying service. They were very friendly and as there was a storm forecast, they told me that if things got too rough I could take shelter in the garage. There were two huge dogs that growled often in the night and I couldn't help but think of bears as one big black one had been sighted earlier in the day. They advertise their flying service by a t-shirt listing it as "Krash" Flying Service. (Ended the day in Aaron Park, Ontario logged at 2,455 km.)
June 19, 1979
Strong head wind. Lots of traffic. Stopped at Raith for bite to eat. As the forecast was for rain, the wind was blowing a gale from the SE, and the lady running the store here said I could pitch my tent next to the house, decided to do so and hope for a better day tomorrow. (Ended the day in Raith, Ontario logged at 2,727 km.)
June 20, 1979
After a bite to eat,... started towards Thunder Bay. I had not gone very far before it began to get quite cloudy and cold. There was some smoke as well, probably due to the forest fires in the vicinity. Soon it began to rain and what with the strong head wind, the steep hills, that was all I needed. Ducked into a farm yard and waited about an hour before the owner, a Finn by the name of V. Hernseshuhtha, returned. He suggested that I spread my eiderdown in his camper. I did so and was very comfortable. (Ended the day at Junction of Highway 102) logged at 2,786 km.)
June 22, 1979
Walked up a hill that was about 1 1/2 miles long. Stopped at restaurant at Crystal Bay for lunch. This is another tough day with strong head winds and now lost one of the clips off my pants when I was walking in the bushes. For two bits I feel like packing it in.
Wind continues to blow intermittantly dead ahead to that I had to do a fair amount of walking. When I arrived at Dorion and found that I could get a room for $10.00 decided to do so... Guys in the bar bought me a beer. This establishment is run by a French Canadian and the atmosphere is jovial and friendly. A welcom relief. Tomorrow, it promises to be a warmer day... (Ended the day in Dorion, Ontario logged at 2,883 km.)
June 23, 1979
There were many long hills ... about 2 miles long, up which I had to walk, pushing my bike. When I started down the other side, I found that not only would the rear brakes not hold, but the front brakes developed a chatter and then would suddenly take hold in a succession of shuddering catches. This certainly was anything but reassuring, so I had to go down cautiously.
Finally, at about nightfall, arrived a Rossport which is a lovely little harbour on Lake Superior with some boats anchored out close to shore. There is an inn which is in the process of renovation and a dining room and bar. The latter was doing a roaring business, it being Saturday night, and I had a cold beer and a piece of pie and a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, all the cabins were rented, but ... the landlord ... permitted me to pitch it (my tent) near one of the cabins on the lawn. (Ended the day in Rossport, Ontario logged at 2,995 km.)
June 25, 1979
Last night met a young couple from Sarnia by the name of Ferguson who had a tent camper in the camp. We sat around a camp fire and swapped yarns. This morning ... I tackle the 2-mile hill and the rest of the rolling road to Marathon. Met a cyclist from Halifax who stopped and offered me a handful of a mixture of peanuts and raisins. The hills continue, though on a minor scale. Just before reaching Marathon, it began to blow a gale from the right and prospects are for rain. So, arriving at Marathon more dead than alive, I took a motel for $20.00 and got a good rest. (Ended the day in Marathon, Ontario logged at 3,111 km.)
June 28, 1979
Met three Edmonton motor-cyclists who had read about me in the Journal and who stopped and said hello. Met three cyclists from Kitchener going to Alberta. At 3:30 the seat on the bike broke. Bought new seat in Wawa for $8.51. Wawa means wild geese in Ojibway... returned to highway and went to Oski Wawa Park where I got a tent site ... (Ended the day in Wawa, Ontario logged at 3,319 km.)
July 4, 1979
Built a fire and two couples from Haliburton as well as a young couple from Lanigan, Sask. came over and we had a pleasant evening in spite of the many mosquitoes. Up at 6:30 and away at 7:30. There are quite a few small hills which with the head wind or cross wind require walking to ascend. (Ended the day in Spanish, Ontario logged at 3,777 km.)
July 7, 1979
Last night, woke to sound of scratching and scared away a raccoon who had gnawed a hole through my front saddle bag. Up at 7:30. Cooked breakfast and away at 9:40. Stopped and talked to an Ojibway wood carver set up at side of road. Arrived at Wiarton and took a room at the Pacific Hotel... The local press came in at about 8 p.m. and interviewed me. Nice little town. (Ended the day in Wiarton, ONtario logged at 4,038 km.)
July 9, 1979
Stopped for hot cakes at Kincardine. Shortly after stopping for lunch at Sullivan's Restaruant at Kingsbridge, along comes my brother Al and his wife Jeannette. (Ended the day in Bayfield, Ontario logged at 4,204 km.)
July 10, 1979
Very heavy, wet fog to Grand Bend, then strong wind. Fog lifted at Grand Bend and at that point along came a reporter for the Sarnia paper and interviewed me. Took motel... (Ended the day in Forest, Ontario logged at 4,276 km.)
July 11, 1979
Approaching Sarnia was overtaken by a young lady on a bike who told me that there had been an announcement over the Sarnia Radio and wished me congratulations for having completed the trip. Stopped a bowling alley and had a bite to eat. (Ended the day in Sarnia logged at 4,321 km.)
The first photo, taken in Winnipeg, is of my cousin, Claudette, and my father as he is preparing to leave for Sarnia in 1979.
The second photo shows my father as he is leaving Winnipeg on his way to Sarnia. Both the first and second photo were provided by Claudette who is the daughter of my father's sister, Jacqueline.
The third photo is from the May 14, 1979 edition of the Edmonton Journal and was taken as he was leaving Edmonton the previous day on the trip to Sarnia.
The fourth and fifth photos, taken from newspaper clippings which cannot be identified, show my father arriving in Winnipeg and with his bicycle.
LIFE IN EDMONTON
After spending most of 1955 in the Yukon, my father joined us in Edmonton. He then took a job with a firm of consultant engineers, R. M. Hardy and Associates. Beginning in 1930, Dr. Hardy served as a professor in the Engineering Department at the University of Alberta, going on to become Head of Department and Dean of Engineering in 1946. In 1957, my father, while still employed by the firm, became responsible for the dismantling of the Peace River suspension bridge which had collapsed on October 16th of that year.
The following information about the collapse of the bridge is from a website of the Association of Professional Engineers and Geoscientists of the Province of British Columbia. The bridge, built by the US Public Roads Administration in 1942 as part of the Alaska Highway, was 647 metres long and was being maintained by the Princess Patricia's Light Infantry based in Whitehorse. A truck driver noticed that the road was settling, the Army immediately closed the bridge, and after continuous movement it collapsed the same day. The cause was a landslide in the bedrock beneath the bridge. The cost of the dismantling was $60 million.
For those who are interested, photos of the old bridge before and after it collapsed can be seen at http://www.apeg.bc.ca/services/branches/documents/pr/Peace_River_Bridge_Collapse.pdf
My father worked on the bridge all winter. The next summer, 1958, my mother, Suzanne and I lived in a motel at Taylor Flats, BC. to be with my father. Pacific Petroleum Ltd. had an office nearby, and my father was able to get me my first job as a temporary replacement for the manager's secretary who had quit suddenly. I enjoyed the job and found that my Grade 10 typing was adequate. The recommendation I got enabled me to get another temporary typing job in Edmonton before university classes began in the fall.
When work on the bridge was completed, my father continued to work as a consultant engineer, though I'm not sure which firm he was with. Perhaps a year later, he came home from work and told us he had quit his job. The news was a huge shock. The reason he gave was that there had been a disagreement over a matter of principle. I always admired him for his courage over this. Though further details were never revealed, I had the impression that it had involved something he was asked to do which he considered unethical.
After a fairly short period of time, he took the job of project engineer with the Alberta Department of Highways which he held until he retired. In winter, he was in the Edmonton office doing the design work for the forthcoming construction. For the remainder of the year, he was on the job, coming home on weekends. Most of the work involved the paving of highways, a major undertaking all over the province during that time.
I think he enjoyed his job. Certainly, it provided a very good pension, which would have been important to him. He used to joke about a tradition of the Department in which the Minister of Highways would visit the engineers' office at Christmas time and hand out tiny dixie cups of ice cream. I'm sure most of the engineers would have preferred something considerably stronger.
At some point in the late1960's, my father had saved enough money to buy a better house without needing a mortgage. Over the years, my mother had begun to work occasionally as a supply teacher to save money for furniture and other such things that she wanted for the house. She must have been happy the day he came home and announced sheepishly, "I think it's about time we bought a better house". They found one that was also in Edmonton's west end but in Crestwood, a nicer neighbourhood.
When I finished first year university, I had a summer job at Swanson Lumber as a typist. When I had been paid a total of $75.00, I decided to go and look for a used car, not knowing at this point how to drive. I found a 1949 Anglia. It was ten years old, but seemed in good condition and the price, $75.00, was right. The salesman said they would keep the car for me until I could come and get it.
My announcement at dinner that night was a bombshell: for the longest time, no one spoke. Finally, my father said, "Well, I guess you'll have to take driving lessons," and everyone relaxed. My mother decided after she saw the car that driving it would be unsafe. Now, it was her turn to buy a car and learn to drive. She and I, and later Suzanne too, kept the new Fiat in use almost continuously. Having wheels made quite a difference to my mother's life. She really blossomed with the her new-found freedom and independence.
Other memories I have of my father in the late 1950's are:
1) retiring after dinner to his rocking chair in the bedroom to read a history book
2) tracking the progression of his investments on huge charts which he would unroll and call me to come and look at
3) walking to work and home again even on the coldest winter days, a daily trek of about seven miles
4) while driving onto a ferry in Ontario, tearing the trim off the side of his brand new 1956 Buick when the attendant insisted he move further and further over to the side
5) getting lost in Saskatchewan when he turned the wrong way at a cross road, then claiming that all roads lead to Rome after my mother with great temerity had suggested we turn back, and finally getting stuck and having to be pulled out by a farmer's tractor
6) the pride he felt in the enormous number of miles he put on the Buick (and later on the Chrysler)
7) taking us out for brunch after church on Sunday's
8) doing jig saw puzzles while listening to classical music, especially Beethoven's Emperor Concerto, Smetana's the Moldau, and something by Mendelssohn
9) giving me $100 for getting good marks when I graduated from high school, and
10) teasing my mother for her Quebecois pronunciation of French, especially the word she used for rain.
In the photos:
1) My father in the family room of the Crestwood house.
2) My mother in the living room of that house.
3) My father's sister, Jacqueline, and his brother, Albert (date unknown).
4) My father, my Uncle Henry (Jacqueline's husband) and my father's cousin Tony Darimont (Tony and his wife Anna were with us every Christmas and often came over to play bridge with my parents.) This photo was taken in the first Edmonton house, probably in the mid-1950's.
EDMONTON AND THE YUKON
For quite a while after we arrived in Edmonton, I missed Flin Flon and had a feeling of having been dislocated. I especially missed my friend Helen Booth and attending Girl Guides and having long bike rides with her. Other things I missed were having lessons with my piano teacher, Mr. Sonnichson, who was much nicer than his Edmonton replacement; playing piano at music festivals and on the radio; and walking to the Main Street cinema to see the Saturday afternoon movie for children, often featuring a Batman or Superman short.
I don't remember who my father worked for when we first arrived in Edmonton. After about a year and a half, he got a job at Teslin, a small settlement in the Yukon. He left in January, not returning until June. As the job was expected to last at least another year, Mom, Suzanne and I moved to Teslin to be with him. Mom taught there so we were able to rent the apartment above the school. It must have been like old times for her to teach with eight grades all in one room. As I was starting Grade Nine, I took lessons through the Alberta correspondence school.
My father's new job was at a bridge being built on the Alaska Highway, 1,300 miles north of Edmonton. The contractor was Burns and Dutton and the owner Defence Construction Ltd., a federal Crown Corporation. My father's role was to ensure that Burns and Dutton built the bridge in accordance with the specifications of the contract. It was a long bridge across Nisutlin Bay.
Teslin was little more than a stop on the highway. There was a restaurant and small motel owned by a family named Crumm, Brown's general store, a Ministry of Transport depot with three or four families, a few Metis families and an Indian Reserve. Most of the students at the one-room school were Metis. There were also three or four Treaty Indian children who had obtained exemptions from attendance at the residential school. Dolores Fraser, the wife of one of the men working for the Ministry of Transport, worked at the school to assist my mother.
Our nearest neighbours were a Norwegian trapper with his native wife and about five children. There was a piano at the school where I gave lessons to Laura, their 14-year-old daughter. In that way I got to know the family. Laura and her older sister Liliane were children of a former wife, and consequently discriminated against in the current regime. Liliane was engaged and subsequently married a fellow who worked for the Ministry of Transport.
Laura, however, was not so fortunate. A few years later, we saw her one afternoon in Fort Vermilion. She was standing on the sidewalk outside a bar. Tears came to her eyes as she told us that her father had forced her to come all the way to Fort Vermilion to take a job as a maid. Her employers spent much of their time in the bar, and she showed us bruises as proof that she had been mistreated. She was only seventeen and beautiful.
In the autumn, it began to get dark early in the afternoon. Before long, school had to close by about 3:00 p.m. In the summer, Suzanne and I had ventured a little way into the forest beside the school. We were deterred from going further because of its immense size and our fear of losing our way. In the winter, it was too cold to do much out of doors, and there was little to break the monotony of the long, dark days.
Soon after our arrival, I saw a very small puppy at the general store. She was very scrawny and smelled strongly of fish. There was no one with her, so I took her home. We named her Lucky. Not long after, I put on the little coat my mother had made for her out of a Seagram's bag, and went for a walk. A native woman, came up to me, very angry. I was able to make out that she was accusing me of having stolen her dog.
I replied, "Fine, come to the school where we live, and if you bring some money to pay for the food we've given her, we will give her back to you." Needless to say, she didn't appear. At the time, I felt proud of myself for my presence of mind and for rescuing the dog from possible starvation. Now, I feel sympathy for the native woman. Lucky was a bear dog, a breed developed by the Yukon Indians to use for hunting bear. These dogs were small and quick and would nip at the bear's feet while it was being hunted. For their owners, they were likely prized possessions.
We had this dog until her death many years later. My father often played with her and loved her very much. He was a person who had a lot of feeling. However, it was easier for him to show his affection for a dog than for a person.
We left Teslin just before Christmas, driving the 1,300 miles to Edmonton. On the way, in the dark, we almost hit a moose. My father stopped the car and we waited for quite a while until he recovered and could drive again. He told us we would have been killed if we had collided with the animal. The family returned to Teslin in January, while I stayed with my grandmother until the end of the school year. Going to real school was much more to my liking than taking lessons by correspondence.
In the photos are:
1) With Laura on the suspension bridge over Miles Canyon.
2) Annette holding Lucky.
3) The old-fashioned fire engine at Atlin, BC.
4) Lucky.
5) In Edmonton in December 1954, from left to right: M. Robert, my grandmother's husband; my grandmother; Annette; Mom; and Suzanne.
6) Transport Cafe at Lower Rancheria, Alaska Highway.
7) The bridge over Nisutlin Bay that was being replaced.
8) Old photo of a bridge on the Alaska Highway.
9) Dog team at Marsh Lake between Whitehorse and Teslin.
10) Alaska Highway near Silver Creek, just over the Alaska border.
The sixth, seventh, ninth and tenth photos were taken by my father some time between 1953 and 1955.
WILLOWVALE
In 1950, my parents decided to build a new house on the lot they had acquired in the new neighbourhood of Willowvale. My father decided that he would build the house with help from Mom, Suzanne and me. Every weekend for the duration, we drove to Willowvale to work on the house. Except for the excavation of the basement, my father built it entirely himself. By 1952, when my parents decided to move to Edmonton after school finished, we had been living in the house for several months. Almost everything except the finishing carpentry had been completed.
I can remember spending a lot of time in the relative gloom of the basement helping my father with the plumbing. Mostly this involved just being there in case he needed me for something. He had a machine which put threads on pipes. I was amazed at how much pipe there was in a house, and how tedious and boring plumbing was.
Other things I remember clearly are my father's lists. All his life he made lists. He didn't particularly like doing chores, but neither did he approve of procrastinating. In this respect, he expected at least as much of himself as of others. His solution was to construct long lists with a reward - this was always reading - to be enjoyed upon completion of each job:
10:00 am - Put in bedroom storm window
10:15 am - Read
10:30 am - Put in dining room storm window
10:45 am - Read
11:00 am - Put in kitchen storm window, etc., etc.
It was a bit eccentric, but it was a way of getting the job done.
In the summer of 1951, when I was eleven, my Dad decided I was old enough to know the facts of life. One day when we were working in the yard at the new house, he took it upon himself to fulfill this responsibility. It seemed to take a very long time. While it went on, we were both terribly embarrassed. When he finished, I found I hadn't understood much if any of it. I remember a lot of big, unfamiliar words, and finding it hard to focus on what he was saying, because his embarrassment made me feel equally embarrassed. Still, I knew more or less what the topic was and appreciated his effort.
The decision to move to Edmonton in the summer of 1952 was made because my father feared Flin Flon could become a ghost town if known ore deposits were depleted without any new discoveries. Having invested in a new house, he was not going to put it at risk.
Before we moved, my father took me aside and told me I must not expect to be at the top of the class in Edmonton, as it was a big city compared to Flin Flon. I would likely encounter much more competition for marks following the move. Although he spoke in a very kind manner, I did feel anxious about what such a huge city would be like.
In the photos are:
1) The house my father built in Willowvale as it was in 2003 when my sister, Suzanne, visited Flin Flon.
2) Happy workers in Willowvale
3), 5) and 6) Various shots of Flin Flon.
4) 30 MPH speed limit with no snow clearance
7) My great-grandfather, Docithee Lamoureux and my grandmother's dog, Buster with me on one of our visits to Edmonton.
MY MOTHER, DONALDA DARIMONT
At this point, I think I should say something about my mother. After her marriage, she led a very conventional life, likely similar to the lives of the majority of her contemporaries. She was content with her role as wife and mother. There must have been ups and downs. However, as a child, I was unaware of the important milestones in her life. For the most part, I took her for granted. She was always there to do everything that needed to be done, without asking for or receiving much credit. So, although this is an account of my father's life, it should not in any way detract from how important she was to me.
My mother lived her first six years on a farm on the banks of the Sturgeon River at Lamoureux, near Fort Saskatchewan. After the death of her father from the flu in 1918, the family moved into Edmonton and lived with the grandparents.
She would frequently be taken out to the country to visit her many cousins. Her Uncle Ernest Lamoureux, her mother's brother, had a big farm on the Correction Line. When he bought one of the earliest cars, family members laughed at him because he couldn't drive it properly, but instead drove it into the ditch all the time. Fortunately, at the speeds of travel in those days, neither driver nor passengers were at much risk of injury.
After completing Grade 12 in Edmonton in 1930, my mother attended Normal School, the teacher training college, for one year. She told me that she had difficulty getting her first teaching post, and was successful only because she was fluent in French. Bilingual teachers were in demand in Alberta's many small French-speaking farming communities. As teaching contracts were for only one year, she taught in several places: Horse Hills, Halkirk, Mallaig, and Morinville are some that I remember. She taught until she married my father in 1939.
Her schools had only one room and accommodated all grades. This meant that when she first began to teach, she had high school kids in her classes who were almost as old as she was! As a young child, I loved nothing more than to look at her scrapbook which was filled with mementos from her teaching days, including hundreds of beautiful valentines. I'm afraid the valentines and the scrapbook itself were much the worse for wear after this, and to my knowledge have unfortunately not survived.
Winter weather in the Alberta prairies was almost as bad as it was in Flin Flon. The schools were heated with pot-bellied wood-burning stoves. The teacher's room and board would be arranged by the School Board at a nearby farm. One day, a bad blizzard came up suddenly and Mom closed the school and sent everyone home. As she lived only a mile away, she set off on foot alone, following the fence posts to find her way. Soon, the wind was so severe and the blowing snow so heavy that she could no longer see anything. It was only by chance that she arrived home safely, terribly cold and frightened for her life.
For all this trouble, she was paid between $70 and $80 a year, and received her money only in the autumn of the next year, assuming, that is, that the farmers had enough money from the harvest to pay their taxes. In spite of the hardship, my mother loved her life as a teacher and considered herself fortunate to be employed during the Depression. From her valentines, I believe she was loved by her pupils. For fun, she went horse-back riding or went into the nearest town on Saturday night with friends. In the winter, they would harness the horse to a wagon full of hay and bundle up warmly. The horse would pull them on the rail line which was always kept clear of snow. She assured me that this was totally safe, as they knew exactly when to expect the trains.
In the photos are:
1) My mother
2) My parents in front of my great grandfather's house in Edmonton
3) My mother
4) Four generations (mother's mother, mother's grandmother, mother and daughter, and
5) My mother in front of one of her schools.
MARRIAGE
My parents first met in high school. Several years later, when my father was in Edmonton on vacation from Flin Flon, his sister Jacqueline invited my mother for dinner to greet him. On July 8, 1939, they were married at Lamoureux, Alberta, across the Sturgeon River from Fort Saskatchewan.
My mother, Donalda LePage (called Don by my father and Donna by her friends), was a school teacher. She was born in 1911 on a farm at Lamoureux, Alberta, but spent most of her childhood in Edmonton after her father's death in the influenza epidemic of 1918. My grandmother, Leonie, then sold the farm and, with her two children (my mother and aunt), lived with her parents, Docithee and Donalda Lamoureux until the children grew up.
Docithee, born in 1860, was an early pioneer who had a large farm at Lamoureux, and who, with a partner, had the contract to supply beef for the North West Mounted Police. The only time I recall seeing my mother cry was when she heard he had died in 1945 at the age of 85. Having lost her father at age six, he must have been like a father to her. She admired him very much and told me that during the Great Depression, unemployed men frequently went to his house for money. The word spread in Edmonton about his generosity so that after he died hundreds of I.O.U notes were found in his bureau drawer.
After their wedding, my parents had a honeymoon in Banff and Jasper, then went to live in Flin Flon where my father had bought a small house on Callinan Street.
In the photos from top to bottom are:
1) My parents' wedding photo.
2) My mother in her wedding dress.
3) The newlyweds leaving on their honeymoon (in the row behind my parents from left to right are Therese, my father's mother, Leonie, my mother's mother, and Albert, my father's brother; in the next row are Henry Pirot, my aunt Jacequeline's husband, and Jacqueline, my father's sister.
4) The Honeymooners.
5) My grandmother, Leonie, with her parents, Donalda and Docithee Lamoureux, and her brothers, Ernest and Hector.
6) My grandmother, Leonie Lepage, and her husband who died in the flu epidemic after going out every day to tend to the sick, and whose first name I don't remember.
All of these photos will enlarge considerably if you right-click and open in a new window.
UNIVERSITY
My father completed Grade 12 and was accepted into the Engineering Faculty at the University of Alberta. Based on his birthdate, March, 26, 1912, this would likely have been in the autumn of 1929, with graduation in the spring of 1934.To pay for his tuition, he earned money every summer by selling magazines to farmers. His method was to go out into the country with a Model A Ford, a tent, and magazines. He sold these to farmers and took chickens and eggs in payment. He would camp out for a few nights and return to Edmonton, hoping that the chickens in the back of his Model A were still alive. At the market in Edmonton, he would sell the remaining chickens and eggs, pay for the magazines, retain a bit of money towards his university costs, and then repeat the cycle.
When as a child I first heard about this entrepreneurial streak of my father's, I didn't know what to make of it. I now find it quite typical of him - oblivious to hardship, stubborn, determined to show what he could achieve through hard work, and having a strong faith in Canada as the country of opportunity. As a child, of course, I didn't understand any of this. From the way people reacted when the story was told, I could see that in some way it was remarkable, making my father seem unusual compared with other parents - not something that would necessarily bring advantages to oneself where status at school was concerned.
Because I loved my father, it left me with a feeling of not quite fitting in. Unlike the kids at school who proudly wore green on St. Patrick's Day, I had neither knowledge nor pride in my heritage. My Dad believed that people who left Europe for Canada should leave their customs behind and embrace the new country where all were equal. Instilling a pride in our ancestry was not consistent with that approach.
Only later, when I was an adult myself and had lived in England for a couple of years, was I able to put all of this into a different context. When I met several people there who shared his values, I could see him for what he really was, feel admiration for him, and be proud that he was my father. I only wish he had taught me to speak French!
The pictures from top to bottom are: 1) Looking out from the house in Calder with the Model A covered in snow 2) my father in what looks to be the uniform of a cadet 3) my father camping out probably with his Model A and chickens 4) my father's university graduation photo and 5) father camping out.
CALDER
When the family moved to Edmonton, they lived in Calder, a community located on the northwest edge of the city. At that time, Calder was physically separated from Edmonton by a large undeveloped tract of land owned by the Hundson's Bay Company. The community grew up where it did because of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway which had a roundhouse, repair shops and a shunting yard there.
The distance from Calder to the downtown - approximately five miles - and its separation from the rest of the built-up area would have made rents there relatively affordable. Streetcar service was provided by Edmonton Radial Railway. The company, formed in 1908, began service soon after that in Edmonton and later to Strathcona and Calder. Even so, I remember being told that living in Calder involved a lot of walking.
My father and Jacqueline attended St. Joseph's, a Catholic High School located at 109 Street and 108 Avenue. My mother, who knew them at school, said that from the way they dressed it was obvious they were poor.
My grandfather worked at La Survivance for a while, but soon got a better job as a land assessor with the Alberta Government's Department of Municipal Affairs. His initial responsibility was to visit farms in northern Alberta and assess land values for taxation purposes. Later, he was promoted to Supervisor of Field Services. There was a recession in Alberta from 1913 to the mid-1920's. The family likely benefited from the improvement in the economy in the late 1920's, but I don't believe they were ever very well-off.
In the photos are McDougall United Church, for a long time a landmark in downtown Edmonton; St. Joseph's High School; and a streetcar operated by the Edmonton Radial Railway.
