LIFE OF MY FATHER - 14

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.

LIFE OF MY FATHER - 12

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.