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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.
GRANDVIEW STREET
My Mom and Dad often went out on Saturday night, leaving Suzanne and me with an older lady to babysit. I've forgotten her name, but remember those nights quite vividly. Foster Hewitt would be on the radio announcing the hockey game, and my father would be whistling while getting ready to go out. I don't think I liked the babysitter very much, as I was unhappy anticipating her arrival and remember lying in bed unable to fall asleep.
My parents' best friends were Irene and Bill Stickney and Kay and George Kent. We usually had Christmas with the Stickney's. I remember envying their son who was about my age for the interesting gifts he would receive. On Christmas Day, he and his father would construct wonderful things with a Mecano set, for example, and I would wish girls could play with such things.
Bill Stickney had been promoted to an executive position with HBM&S and so was entitled to live in a company cottage. This was a mark of status in the town. When I was nine or ten, the Kent's also moved to a company cottage. My mother was unhappy about this. I think she felt my father had let her down by not getting a similar promotion. I remember her saying that the reason for his failure in this was his lack of ability to socialize and his refusal to join the Elks or Lions or to play golf at the Company golf course.
There may have been some truth in this, and with her two best friends living in company houses, I can understand her disappointment. On reflecting about it, I realized that my father was always a bit of a loner. I think he loved Flin Flon in the early days, when it was a rough and ready place with the many challenges a new town would have provided. As the town matured, however, the type of corporate life that likely developed within HBM&S would not have suited him. As well, company towns are notorious for being inward looking.
When I was older, my father expressed to me his disapproval of class privilege as it existed in Europe. Certainly, his life as a child would not have prepared him for the competitive life of a large corporation or given him the self-confidence and desire needed to succeed in that type of environment. He was not materialistic in the sense of needing possessions to enhance his self-esteem. Except for a big car, he lived very frugally.
It was important to my mother, on the other hand, to have a nice house and attractive furniture. She was not at all superficial, though. On the contrary, she was a very good person, strong and serious, always encouraging Suzanne and I with our school work and music lessons. However, social status was definitely important to her, perhaps because her grandfather who she loved dearly was a respected leader of Edmonton's French-Canadian community. Growing up in his house, she may have become accustomed to a certain level of social status.
It was about this time that my father decided to build a house in the new neighbourhood of Willowvale. My memories of my father before moving to Willowvale include him taking me on the mile-long walk to Phantom Lake. I felt it a great privilege to be going there alone with him. On another occasion, before I knew how to swim, he persuaded me to go down the slide on the dock, saying he would catch me before I reached the water. Then, to my horror, he let me go, intending I'm sure to cure any fear of the water I was in danger of developing. Of course, he was standing right there beside me as I landed in the water, but nonetheless, I got a huge mouthful and was very angry.
He would sometimes take me on a search for interesting rocks. Once we found a good-sized beautiful piece of quartz. He would pick up a rock and describe all its various components.
He was often moody, though I don't recall him ever raising his voice in anger. When he was in a bad mood, everyone became very quiet. He believed strongly in good manners, and would threaten my sister and I with being sent to a finishing school if we didn't improve our behaviour. We didn't know exactly what a finishing school was, of course, but we knew it must be very horrible.
When I was nine, my father bought a car and took us on a vacation. We went as far south as Salt Lake City, Utah, then to Vancouver for Uncle Albert's wedding. I didn't see Uncle Albert very often. He was a chemical engineer who worked all his life for Imperial Oil and lived far from us first in Port Moody near Vancouver and then in Sarnia, Ontario. I remember him being very warm, friendly, and easy to like. I loved his Christmas gifts, especially a beautiful Parker pen and pencil set, a lovely wooden pencil case, and the book Anne of Green Gables.
In the photos are:
1) Visiting Aunt Jacqueline and her children on our 1949 vacation: left to right are Aunt Jacqueline, Claudette, John, Madeleine, Suzanne, Annette, Mom, Dad, and Don.
2) Suzanne and me at Athabasca Falls on the same vacation.
3) Suzanne and me on a mountain outside Yellow Stone Park.
4) Uncle Albert with his dog.
5) My parents having fun.
6) My father with friends, or co-workers.
7) My father and me.
GRANDVIEW STREET
Grandview Street is where I spent most of my childhood until the family moved to Edmonton when I was twelve. It was a ramshackle street, probably typical of Flin Flon with its rapid unplanned growth. I remember the frequent chimney fires next door at the Blake's house and the manual pump for drinking water they had on their kitchen counter.
Further down the street lived a woman alone with her children. She was practically destitute. I visited her when I was eight or nine years old and was much affected by what I saw. I went home and got my Mom to donate things to help her out.
In the opposite direction lived a family that allowed their kitchen waste water to flow directly out of the house into what we kids called a slop ditch. It was quite disgusting to look at, as it had lots of food waste in it. One day, while quite a few kids were playing nearby, my sister Suzanne, who was only three, fell into it. The water was so deep that I was afraid she would drown. I stood there for a moment horrified, before I could control my feelings of revulsion and reach over to pull her out. Of course, she was extremely upset and cried all the way home. I was convinced I had rescued her from drowning. Only much later could I see the humorous side of the incident.
Also on the street lived the Eidt family, whose daughter Norma was a friend. When I went to her house, her father Garnet, who I liked a lot, made bread pudding. To make it, he would put a pan with pieces of bread, milk, sugar and raisins to cook in the oven. I remember not liking it, but I loved the set of books he had called something like "Lands and Peoples". I loved to go to Norma's and look at these books. They help to explain my love of travel. What made them so wonderful was the coloured photos, which for me were a great rarity. The only other colour I recall seeing as a young child was in a film at school about Canada's natural resources that showed salmon jumping in mountain streams.
Memories of my father on Grandview Street may help to give an idea of his life there. He frequently chopped wood for the furnace, stoked it every day and kept a big wood pile in the back yard. His job involved being outdoors a lot which he enjoyed even in winter. I remember that at some point his job with HBM&S became one of a civil rather than a mining engineer.
In the summer, he sailed his boat at Big Island Lake, eight miles from town. I don't remember how he traveled those miles before he got a car in 1949, but I know that he and my mother would sail there. Sailing was unfortunately brought to an end when they had a frightening experience, though no one was hurt. A big storm suddenly blew up when they were in the middle of the lake. The return trip had to be made by tacking. My mother believed she would die, as she couldn't swim. As a child, to deter her from going near the river bank on their farm, her mother had made her very afraid of drowning. Hence, her fear of the water and her decision never to sail again.
We continued to go to Big Island Lake, and my father considered building a cottage, but eventually sold the property instead. My father bought a car after the road into Flin Flon was built when I was nine. The eight-mile drive to the lake on a dusty gravel road seemed never-ending. The dust forced us to close the windows, and as the car took one curve after another, we lurched continuously from side to side. Inevitably, my small sister Suzanne would cry out that she was going to be sick.
Instead of a cottage, my father decided to build a garage. I was enlisted as his helper so I could earn half the money needed to buy my bike. My job was to hand my Dad the tools he needed. We didn't talk much. I just stood there until he would say, "Hammer", or "Chisel", or "Level". By the time I was ten, I was quite an expert on garage construction, only to become even more of an expert when, a year later, he decided to build a new house in the Willowvale neighbourhood.
Another memory of my father during those years was of him putting on his army uniform. He was in an essential industry so didn't get called up during the war, but instead was in the reserve army which held periodic exercises. Another is that one winter he used a wooden box and snow to make me an igloo which turned out to be just like those used by the Inuit. It was big enough to be able to go inside if we crouched down. We didn't stay long, though, because it was so cold.
My father also built me a play house. This provided many hours of fun. It was located part way up the rocky hill at the back of our yard, and so seemed to be my very own pretend home. I was probably bossy towards my sister, Suzanne, when she played there with me. We would make cookies out of mud that we mixed up and allowed to dry in the lids of jam jars. Then we would have fancy teas pretending to eat and drink using our child-sized set of dinner dishes made out of real china. There wasn't a lot of mud in this rocky area, but in the recesses between rocks we managed to find some that hardened very nicely into excellent cookies.
In the photos are:
1) and 2) Annette and the play house
3) Suzanne, aged seven or eight at our grandmother's house in Edmonton
4) My father in the snow with his tripod
5) Annette beside the wood pile, and
6) My father in what may have been his reserve army uniform.
LIFE IN FLIN FLON - FROM A CHILD'S PERSPECTIVE
As a child growing up in Flin Flon, my life would not have been very different from the life of any other child. My father went to work at the plant every day, came home each night, rarely went out on his own; my mother did the usual things, cooked and cleaned, made clothes on her sewing machine, read fairy stories to me, listened to the radio, picked cranberries and blueberries, went out to shop and visit her friends, and had a new baby, my sister Suzanne, when I was five.
What made Flin Flon different was its lack of road access, and its rocky topography. Getting away from the town meant taking the train, which my mother did almost every year to visit her family in Edmonton. As there was no bus service and few cars, children beginning at age six walked to school even in the depth of winter. The bedrock on which the town was built meant no gardening, sewer boxes built above ground, and the scarcity and expense of fresh fruit and vegetables especially in winter.
Children had a freedom that would be virtually unknown today. There was an outcropping of bedrock in the backyard of the bigger house on Grandview Street that my parents bought when I was two. This rock flattened out before descending to Ross Lake some distance away. At quite a young age, I was allowed to roam freely though this area, fortunately never falling down and injuring myself, though on one occasion being reprimanded for ripping a new dress.
I often went to a small stream of running water where a few willows and blue bells were growing. This became my very own secret place that was never mentioned to anyone. It was especially precious in that it was surrounded by acres and acres of bedrock. In summer, all the kids on our street played outside together. We had a game called Aunty Aunty Eye Over that involved, as far as I can remember, hurling a ball over a roof, then racing around the house trying to be the first to find it.
It was very cold in the winter, and the Northern Lights made beautiful shimmering patterns in the night sky. In the evenings, we took our sleighs, which had steel runners and a wooden cross piece for steering, up to the top of Hillcrest Avenue and sledded down in the dark and cold under the Northern Lights.
Because there were no telephones, I had to take a note to the babysitter on my way home from school when my parents wanted to go out for the evening. On one occasion in Grade One, we were doing splatter work which involved a tooth brush, a screen, some paint, and with the brush trying to splatter the paint through the screen onto a piece of paper. I was so involved with this that I failed to notice that Miss Dunning had come and taken my note. Later, in a panic I went up to her desk to tell her it was lost, only to be reprimanded for having had it in the first place as she returned it to me. Oh, the injustices of childhood!
Another incident involved two sisters, Carol and Joan Kent, daughters of my mother's friend Kay Kent. Their father was also an HBM&S engineer. We were at the Kent's cottage (my parents weren't there) and were given pumpkin pie for dessert. We would have been perhaps five, six and seven years old. Joan and I hated the pie, but Mrs. Kent made us sit at the picnic table until we had eaten all of it. To this day, I have never been able to eat pumkin pie.
In the photos are:
1) Carol and Joan Kent with me in the middle on a day when we had obviously been very naughty.
2) My sister, Suzanne, and me, aged 2 1/2 and 7 1/2.
2) The coat with fur trim which is my first memory.
3) My parents first house on Callinan Street.
4) My parents and me in front of the Grandview Street house.
5)My Mother with me as a baby.
6) My Sister Suzanne and me in 1946.
RECREATION AT FLIN FLON
Flin Flon, though a substantial town when my father arrived, was very isolated. There was a native community fairly close to the town at Cranberry Portage and a small town at The Pas about 60 miles away. Until 1949, Flin Flon could be reached only by train. It was very cold in the winter and darkness fell early. For a child who had known nothing else, living there would obviously require no adjustment. For an adult, though, it could be difficult.
Still, there were plenty of recreational opportunities, particularly if you enjoyed the outdoors. The Company, as it was called, created a beautiful beach at Phantom Lake, one mile from the town. Many tons of sand were imported, a footpath to connect with the town was put in, and beach facilities were constructed. I remember the change house and cafeteria, a huge roundabout, a picnic area set amongst birch and poplar trees, the beach itself, and a large dock.
The Internet site, www.flinflon.net, revealed that initially the beach was developed by volunteers, and only in 1943 did the Company take over. In addition to the facilities I remember, the Company also put in "expanses of grass, ... a playground area, ... and a dance hall, all gleaming white with red trim. A quaint bandstand provided a venue where entertainment and concerts were provided. Tennis courts were laid out in two locations. The landscaped grounds at Phantom Lake were accented by formal flower beds and stonework ledges, paths, and a pond."
For winter recreation, there was curling and snowshoeing. In summer, besides the beach at Phantom, you could, play tennis and sail a boat, both enjoyed by my father who purchased a lot at Big Island Lake where he kept his sailboat. As well, there must have been great fishing in the many lakes around the town.
On May 12, 1937, the coronation of King George VI of England was celebrated with a major event in the town: a parade with floats. From the photos, it was obviously much enjoyed by the inhabitants.
The first three photos above are of the 1937 Coronation parade, the third showing the winning French Canadian float which depicted the arrival in Canada of Jacques Cartier. The following photos are of Phantom Lake (courtesy of www.flinflon.net); my father's sail boat; my father sailing with friends; and, finally, the Flin Flon bonspiel of 1936 (a curling competition). If you right click on the photos and then open them in a new window (the top item on the list), they will enlarge, some to a full-page size.
FLIN FLON
After completing his engineering degree, my father took a job with Hudson's Bay Mining and Smelting Co. Ltd. in Flin Flon, Manitoba. Flin Flon is located on the Saskatchewan border about 850 km. from Winnipeg. It was here in 1915 that David Collins, a local trapper, discovered mineral ore. He gave it to Tom Creighton, a prospector. This discovery led ultimately to the development of a large mine and a town whose population grew from 5,000 in 1935 to 10,000 by 1950. The name Flin Flon came from a novel that either Creighton or some other prospector was reading at this time in which the main character was called Flintabbetey Flonanton.
After World War II, particularly during the Great Depression, thousands of people moved north to Flin Flon as the mine developed. Not only copper was found, but nickel, zinc, cadmium, and I think perhaps silver as well. Today, Flin Flon is a city, and HBM&S (now called Hud Bay Minerals Inc.) continues to be the main employer, with a large smelter at Flin Flon and big ore deposits at Thomson, Manitoba. Tourism has also become a significant part of the local economy.
Flin Flon is located on the Precambrian Shield which extends in a huge horseshoe shape around Hudson's Bay. It is an area of granite bedrock interspersed with many small lakes and bogs containing muskeg. Much of Shield country has coniferous forests, though at Flin Flon itself there were not that many trees. Because of the rock, the developed part of the city extends over a large area.
I'm not sure when my father arrived in Flin Flon. He left a photo (see above) of a strike that occurred there in July 1934, so possibly he arrived soon after his university graduation, which would have been in the spring of 1934. From various photos I've seen, his life there must have been enjoyable. He had lots of friends, a sail boat, and much outdoor recreation which I'm sure he loved. Unlike many if not most of the men in the town, he didn't work underground.
In the photos, from top to bottom, are the mill at the HBM&S plant; Schist Lake, typical of the many lakes in and near Flin Flon; my father on the left with his friends (I was surprised to see photos of my dad with a gun, as to my knowledge he never owned one); the 1934 strike; and, finally, two photos of Flin Flon.
