Travels with my Uncle, Sept. 2015
This will be the third year that I have travelled with Uncle John Erickson to the homestead near Irma, Alberta, Canada. I feel fortunate to be retired and have time to go on these trips as I learn so much family history.
Our visits thus far have been in September so as to watch the progress of the harvest, an ever-changing process that would undoubtedly fascinate our pioneering ancestors, my grand parents, Elmer Erickson and Anna Honningsvag Erickson, who first settled this area in 1909.
Sept 24, 2015
The mornings are brisk this time of the year in the town of Jasper Alberta. John and I are staying at the same hotel as last year and fortunately were able to get one of the last two rooms available. As I step out side to check the weather, colorful Aspen leaves swirl around on the sidewalks in the slight breeze, harbingers to the coming fall season. As is the norm for me, I'm looking for that elusive early morning "cup of Joe". Not many hotels cater to the retired, early rising farmer who can't seem to learn how to sleep in. John, retired airline captain, has adjusted well to retirement and sleeping in.
I've often kept diaries or notes of various vacations. Rather than recounting only this current trip, I thought it might be interesting to some to write about family history and history of the Alberta and Battle River area (the Erickson Farm) for the benefit of family in the US, Canada, and maybe even Norway.
My historical facts will be brief and general, an accumulation of information from Uncle John, and two books recently read about Alberta. Uncle Lloyd Erickson has researched and written extensively of family history and his papers are very thorough and recommended reading for those interested.
Elmer Erickson was born during a blizzard January 10, 1888 (The Children's Blizzard, book) near Volga, South Dakota, to Solomon and Olena Erickson. Solomon born in Ljungby, Sweden, 1843 emigrated to the U.S. when 17 or 18 years of age. Olena Myrhe is thought to be from Lillehammer, Norway, orphaned daughter of a distraught, unmarried farm girl.
This was an era of uncompromising moral values as harsh as the northern climate of Norway. As I sat across from my mother's cousin, Esther Stakkeland Sward, at her 90th birthday, she told the story of how Olena's mother, having brought "shame" to the family after giving birth to Olena, walked away and perished, never to be seen again.
Such acts would seem unimaginable today. Esthers's mother was Hannah Stakkeland a sister to Elmer Erickson
When Elmer was 20 years old (1909), he and younger brother John boarded a train bound for Alberta to tend cattle and horses being moved by a family to the Irma area. Both John and Elmer secured a quarter section (160 acres) about 12 kilometers from Irma and as homesteaders were required to build a house and cultivate the land.
The first house on the property was a sod house. Sod (earthen) houses were built of square sections of native prairie land cut into 2 to 3 ft. sections stacked to make an airtight living space. The interior walls could be finished with whitewash to make a comfortable room which could be warm in the winter and cool in the summer for the inhabitants, human and otherwise.
Grandpa Elmer eventually met and married Grandma Anna Honningsvag, a recent immigrant who was staying with her cousins the Fluevogs, whose homestead was near the Erickson's.
Our visits thus far have been in September so as to watch the progress of the harvest, an ever-changing process that would undoubtedly fascinate our pioneering ancestors, my grand parents, Elmer Erickson and Anna Honningsvag Erickson, who first settled this area in 1909.
Sept 24, 2015
The mornings are brisk this time of the year in the town of Jasper Alberta. John and I are staying at the same hotel as last year and fortunately were able to get one of the last two rooms available. As I step out side to check the weather, colorful Aspen leaves swirl around on the sidewalks in the slight breeze, harbingers to the coming fall season. As is the norm for me, I'm looking for that elusive early morning "cup of Joe". Not many hotels cater to the retired, early rising farmer who can't seem to learn how to sleep in. John, retired airline captain, has adjusted well to retirement and sleeping in.
I've often kept diaries or notes of various vacations. Rather than recounting only this current trip, I thought it might be interesting to some to write about family history and history of the Alberta and Battle River area (the Erickson Farm) for the benefit of family in the US, Canada, and maybe even Norway.
My historical facts will be brief and general, an accumulation of information from Uncle John, and two books recently read about Alberta. Uncle Lloyd Erickson has researched and written extensively of family history and his papers are very thorough and recommended reading for those interested.
Elmer Erickson was born during a blizzard January 10, 1888 (The Children's Blizzard, book) near Volga, South Dakota, to Solomon and Olena Erickson. Solomon born in Ljungby, Sweden, 1843 emigrated to the U.S. when 17 or 18 years of age. Olena Myrhe is thought to be from Lillehammer, Norway, orphaned daughter of a distraught, unmarried farm girl.
This was an era of uncompromising moral values as harsh as the northern climate of Norway. As I sat across from my mother's cousin, Esther Stakkeland Sward, at her 90th birthday, she told the story of how Olena's mother, having brought "shame" to the family after giving birth to Olena, walked away and perished, never to be seen again.
Such acts would seem unimaginable today. Esthers's mother was Hannah Stakkeland a sister to Elmer Erickson
When Elmer was 20 years old (1909), he and younger brother John boarded a train bound for Alberta to tend cattle and horses being moved by a family to the Irma area. Both John and Elmer secured a quarter section (160 acres) about 12 kilometers from Irma and as homesteaders were required to build a house and cultivate the land.
The first house on the property was a sod house. Sod (earthen) houses were built of square sections of native prairie land cut into 2 to 3 ft. sections stacked to make an airtight living space. The interior walls could be finished with whitewash to make a comfortable room which could be warm in the winter and cool in the summer for the inhabitants, human and otherwise.
Grandpa Elmer eventually met and married Grandma Anna Honningsvag, a recent immigrant who was staying with her cousins the Fluevogs, whose homestead was near the Erickson's.
Sept. 25th 2015
It's early morning on the prairie. As I gaze out the window across a wooded valley, the first image to appear in the east out of the darkness is the silhouette of the steeple of Sharon Lutheran Church, standing as the sentinel over the resting place for many Erickson family members. I'm having my morning coffee, watching the sun rise, from the "cabin" on the Lickness place, now part of the Erickson farm, thankful my quarters aren't a sod house, but a comfortable cabin complete with fireplace TV and WiFi.
John and I arrived around 8:00 pm at Mel and Laurie's last night. We probably visited too late as Mel had a lot on his mind with uncooperative weather during the harvest and if he was like me, his mind would be working through the night planning and organizing the next day's schedule.
John and I were sensitive to the urgency at hand and let Mel know that we had plans the next day and would not want to interfere with the harvest. The harvest was only about 25 percent complete. The entire area around Irma had been waiting for sunshine and the next few days seemed promising. Kent would only be available for part of the day as he was to be emcee at a wedding of one of Tausha's cousins. John and I might have been able to be of help at an earlier day when equipment was simple, but now the size and technology required are too intimidating, even for a seasoned veteran of farm equipment like myself.
The combine was going early this morning, as there had been a comfortable wind and no dew on the wheat. The grain as it came to the farm is emptied from the truck into a bin and then augered through a grain dryer to bring the moisture down from 17 percent to the necessary 14.5 percent required by the local elevators.
After a brief ride with Kent in the co-pilot seat provided on the combine, John and I drove to Wainwright to pick up parts and had lunch at a Tim Horton's. Returning to the field, Mel is now the combine operator and John took a long ride with him, and I rode with Keith Creasy, a neighbor and good childhood friend who was operating the grain wagon which ferried the grain from the combines to either the tandem axel trucks or to the grain bins located in the field. Keith's son, who is thinking about coming back to the farm is operating their combine, helping Mel and Kent today.
At 5:30 everyone shuts down for dinner and gathers in the corner of the field by the grain tanks where Sharon Hunzicker has set up a delicious home cooked meal. Jurg and Sharon (Ruste) live next to us at the cabin and Jurg has worked with the Erickson's for many years. Jurg, a Swiss immigrant met Sharon on a ski trip to Jasper Park. The Ruste family, homesteaders from nearby Wainwright were friends to Grandma and Grandpa Erickson. The dinner duties at the combining site have been passed down to whoever is available on that particular day and Sharon gets the duties today.
After dinner John and I call it a day and head back to the cabin. Mel, Jason (Korean immigrant) and the two Creasy’s will work for a few more hours and possibly close to midnight, weather permitting.
It's early morning on the prairie. As I gaze out the window across a wooded valley, the first image to appear in the east out of the darkness is the silhouette of the steeple of Sharon Lutheran Church, standing as the sentinel over the resting place for many Erickson family members. I'm having my morning coffee, watching the sun rise, from the "cabin" on the Lickness place, now part of the Erickson farm, thankful my quarters aren't a sod house, but a comfortable cabin complete with fireplace TV and WiFi.
John and I arrived around 8:00 pm at Mel and Laurie's last night. We probably visited too late as Mel had a lot on his mind with uncooperative weather during the harvest and if he was like me, his mind would be working through the night planning and organizing the next day's schedule.
John and I were sensitive to the urgency at hand and let Mel know that we had plans the next day and would not want to interfere with the harvest. The harvest was only about 25 percent complete. The entire area around Irma had been waiting for sunshine and the next few days seemed promising. Kent would only be available for part of the day as he was to be emcee at a wedding of one of Tausha's cousins. John and I might have been able to be of help at an earlier day when equipment was simple, but now the size and technology required are too intimidating, even for a seasoned veteran of farm equipment like myself.
The combine was going early this morning, as there had been a comfortable wind and no dew on the wheat. The grain as it came to the farm is emptied from the truck into a bin and then augered through a grain dryer to bring the moisture down from 17 percent to the necessary 14.5 percent required by the local elevators.
After a brief ride with Kent in the co-pilot seat provided on the combine, John and I drove to Wainwright to pick up parts and had lunch at a Tim Horton's. Returning to the field, Mel is now the combine operator and John took a long ride with him, and I rode with Keith Creasy, a neighbor and good childhood friend who was operating the grain wagon which ferried the grain from the combines to either the tandem axel trucks or to the grain bins located in the field. Keith's son, who is thinking about coming back to the farm is operating their combine, helping Mel and Kent today.
At 5:30 everyone shuts down for dinner and gathers in the corner of the field by the grain tanks where Sharon Hunzicker has set up a delicious home cooked meal. Jurg and Sharon (Ruste) live next to us at the cabin and Jurg has worked with the Erickson's for many years. Jurg, a Swiss immigrant met Sharon on a ski trip to Jasper Park. The Ruste family, homesteaders from nearby Wainwright were friends to Grandma and Grandpa Erickson. The dinner duties at the combining site have been passed down to whoever is available on that particular day and Sharon gets the duties today.
After dinner John and I call it a day and head back to the cabin. Mel, Jason (Korean immigrant) and the two Creasy’s will work for a few more hours and possibly close to midnight, weather permitting.
Sept 26th 2015
In Vancouver harbor in front of John's condo, a ship at anchor waits for a train from the prairies loaded, not with Saskatchewan potash, not with Alberta oil, but grain from the Alberta prairies. There is pressure on the owners of the ship to have their ship loaded by a certain date and leave the harbor or they will have to pay demerage of $10,000.00 per day (a penalty for anchoring longer than the allotted time).
900 miles away a grain elevator by the rail line waits for the grain it has contracted to take from the prairies above the Battle River. The grain is suppose to be delivered by Sept. 30th. The weather has not cooperated. A worried elevator manager has offered to take grain from the area farmers at 17 percent moisture and has offered to dry it for a given price. The Erickson Farm fortunately has a dryer and can dry their wheat for a quarter of the given price.
It's raining this morning. Another day with the combine sitting idle, but as fortune would have it, Mel had a break down last night so today and tomorrow can be used for the necessary repair work. I say good fortune because one wouldn't want to start combining when good weather returns and immediately have a breakdown that was destined to happen and then sit idle during good weather.
Mel and Laurie will leave for business in Edmonton and stay at Hasting's Lake with family today. Many of the kids and grandkids will be keeping busy with activities at the Bible Camp. Tomorrow John and I will join everyone for an early Canadian Thanksgiving. We thought we might enjoy staying at the cabin another night rather than trying to sleep in bunk beds at Hasting's Lake surrounded by a bunch of active kids.
In Vancouver harbor in front of John's condo, a ship at anchor waits for a train from the prairies loaded, not with Saskatchewan potash, not with Alberta oil, but grain from the Alberta prairies. There is pressure on the owners of the ship to have their ship loaded by a certain date and leave the harbor or they will have to pay demerage of $10,000.00 per day (a penalty for anchoring longer than the allotted time).
900 miles away a grain elevator by the rail line waits for the grain it has contracted to take from the prairies above the Battle River. The grain is suppose to be delivered by Sept. 30th. The weather has not cooperated. A worried elevator manager has offered to take grain from the area farmers at 17 percent moisture and has offered to dry it for a given price. The Erickson Farm fortunately has a dryer and can dry their wheat for a quarter of the given price.
It's raining this morning. Another day with the combine sitting idle, but as fortune would have it, Mel had a break down last night so today and tomorrow can be used for the necessary repair work. I say good fortune because one wouldn't want to start combining when good weather returns and immediately have a breakdown that was destined to happen and then sit idle during good weather.
Mel and Laurie will leave for business in Edmonton and stay at Hasting's Lake with family today. Many of the kids and grandkids will be keeping busy with activities at the Bible Camp. Tomorrow John and I will join everyone for an early Canadian Thanksgiving. We thought we might enjoy staying at the cabin another night rather than trying to sleep in bunk beds at Hasting's Lake surrounded by a bunch of active kids.
Sept. 27th 2015
In 1754, an explorer named Anthony Henday is sent by the Hudson' Bay Company on a mission to explore the watershed area of the Battle River, roughly the dividing line between Cree Indians to the north and the Blackfoot Indians to the south in what is now the province of Alberta. Farther north yet is the land of the Inuit "The Eater's of Raw Meat".
From my comfortable quarters in "the cabin" looking to the east, I'm having coffee and toast with Alberta honey, and watching as a brilliant red sky once again becomes the background to Sharon Lutheran Church. According to Mel, it is thought that Henday used an ancient Indian trail on Erickson property and I'm trying to imagine what was going through Henday's mind as he moved west across these rolling hills.
Originally brought over to the New World by the Spaniards, horses had only recently been acquired by the Indian tribes in Alberta through trade with tribes to the south. Henday would have witnessed how the horse dramatically changed the almost primitive life style of the indigenous tribes. Moving to new hunting grounds through use of dogs dragging tents and supplies could now be expedited. More importantly, the Buffalo hunt had completely changed.
The vast prairies of North America, including the Battle River area, were home to an estimated 50 million Buffalo. According to Lloyd Erickson's journals, Solomon Erickson, Father-in-Law to Anna Honningsvag, encountered a herd numbering thousands upon thousands, and had to await their passing by on his way to South Dakota.
The Buffalo were critical to the Indian lifestyle in that it provided the mainstays food, clothing, and shelter (tents). Pemmican, a mixture of pounded buffalo meat, berries and buffalo tallow stored in a buffalo hide was the method of food storage for winter. Before the introduction of the horse, Buffalo were hunted on foot and killed through use of spear and bow and arrow. The horse now provided an element of speed and safety. Henday was even given an opportunity to participate in a hunt with a friendly Blackfoot tribe while in the area and was amazed at their riding skills and ability to place arrows behind the fore legs in the heart girth. Sometimes two arrows would bring these large animals down. Years later when guns were introduced to the tribes, they still preferred the bow and arrow to the time consuming loading of guns.
Today John and I will pick up Lilly at the retirement home in Viking on our way to Hasting's Lake Bible Camp. Most, if not all of the Erickson family in Alberta had spent some time in their childhood at this camp just outside of Edmonton and now we would be gathering for an early Canadian Thanksgiving event. John and I had a wonderful time visiting with Lilly on the trip to and from Hasting's Lake.
When we arrived, the aroma of Thanksgiving met us at entrance to the door of the main cabin, as Angela was basting the turkeys. We all gave big hearty Thanksgiving hugs and spent the morning greeting and visiting as others arrived. A passing rainstorm kept everyone inside but soon the kids disappeared as the weather improved, and a group of adults congregated outside around a fire pit that Paul Fraunfeld had constructed.
Dinner time came and the children sang a blessing for us all and then Mel suggested we have a quick introduction of each family. After a little bit of grumbling from some hungry family members it was decided that would be a good idea as the kids would eat and be off in a minute. Little Josh Erickson also read a paper explaining that there would be a total eclipse tonight. The meal was absolutely delicious. The Erickson clan has never lacked for good cooks.
After the sad goodbyes, hugs, and handshakes we left for home. I gave Aunt Aurora an especially big hug. Lilly sat in the front seat and kept me in good company as I drove and John sat in the backseat and had a much needed nap, a product of too much turkey and dessert. An empty passing train was heading the same way we were, for the prairies. Mel had said he had heard the elevators were willing to dry the grain for free.
Lilly and I gave each other a long lasting hug before we parted at the retirement center. We knew it would be a while before we would see each other again. And as I write this this morning, I, like Rick Comrie expressed the day before at the Thanksgiving dinner, feel the lump in my throat and tears in my eyes that come with the memories of mom and everyone else in this family. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude to have been here and I'm sure Uncle John feels the same way.
Thankyou all.
A shadow begins to cover a brilliant full moon hanging just above the Alberta prairie on our drive back to the "Hilton", as John likes to refer to our lodging. We invite Sharon to come over to watch the remainder of the eclipse from our deck. Jurg is east of Hardisty, bow hunting for moose or elk and hadn't arrived home yet. Sharon hoped he wouldn't be successful in the hunt as she did not relish the idea of helping haul the ATV over there to haul a 1500 pound moose out of the woods this late at night.
After watching the full eclipse, John and I went inside to warm up and he said "The next full eclipse will be in 18 years and I will be 102 years old". I told John "I will be 85 years old and if we come up to Alberta to see it, I'll be doing the driving"! We had a good chuckle and then we both fell asleep in our chairs in front of theTV set, content with a day full of food, family, and fun activities.
In 1754, an explorer named Anthony Henday is sent by the Hudson' Bay Company on a mission to explore the watershed area of the Battle River, roughly the dividing line between Cree Indians to the north and the Blackfoot Indians to the south in what is now the province of Alberta. Farther north yet is the land of the Inuit "The Eater's of Raw Meat".
From my comfortable quarters in "the cabin" looking to the east, I'm having coffee and toast with Alberta honey, and watching as a brilliant red sky once again becomes the background to Sharon Lutheran Church. According to Mel, it is thought that Henday used an ancient Indian trail on Erickson property and I'm trying to imagine what was going through Henday's mind as he moved west across these rolling hills.
Originally brought over to the New World by the Spaniards, horses had only recently been acquired by the Indian tribes in Alberta through trade with tribes to the south. Henday would have witnessed how the horse dramatically changed the almost primitive life style of the indigenous tribes. Moving to new hunting grounds through use of dogs dragging tents and supplies could now be expedited. More importantly, the Buffalo hunt had completely changed.
The vast prairies of North America, including the Battle River area, were home to an estimated 50 million Buffalo. According to Lloyd Erickson's journals, Solomon Erickson, Father-in-Law to Anna Honningsvag, encountered a herd numbering thousands upon thousands, and had to await their passing by on his way to South Dakota.
The Buffalo were critical to the Indian lifestyle in that it provided the mainstays food, clothing, and shelter (tents). Pemmican, a mixture of pounded buffalo meat, berries and buffalo tallow stored in a buffalo hide was the method of food storage for winter. Before the introduction of the horse, Buffalo were hunted on foot and killed through use of spear and bow and arrow. The horse now provided an element of speed and safety. Henday was even given an opportunity to participate in a hunt with a friendly Blackfoot tribe while in the area and was amazed at their riding skills and ability to place arrows behind the fore legs in the heart girth. Sometimes two arrows would bring these large animals down. Years later when guns were introduced to the tribes, they still preferred the bow and arrow to the time consuming loading of guns.
Today John and I will pick up Lilly at the retirement home in Viking on our way to Hasting's Lake Bible Camp. Most, if not all of the Erickson family in Alberta had spent some time in their childhood at this camp just outside of Edmonton and now we would be gathering for an early Canadian Thanksgiving event. John and I had a wonderful time visiting with Lilly on the trip to and from Hasting's Lake.
When we arrived, the aroma of Thanksgiving met us at entrance to the door of the main cabin, as Angela was basting the turkeys. We all gave big hearty Thanksgiving hugs and spent the morning greeting and visiting as others arrived. A passing rainstorm kept everyone inside but soon the kids disappeared as the weather improved, and a group of adults congregated outside around a fire pit that Paul Fraunfeld had constructed.
Dinner time came and the children sang a blessing for us all and then Mel suggested we have a quick introduction of each family. After a little bit of grumbling from some hungry family members it was decided that would be a good idea as the kids would eat and be off in a minute. Little Josh Erickson also read a paper explaining that there would be a total eclipse tonight. The meal was absolutely delicious. The Erickson clan has never lacked for good cooks.
After the sad goodbyes, hugs, and handshakes we left for home. I gave Aunt Aurora an especially big hug. Lilly sat in the front seat and kept me in good company as I drove and John sat in the backseat and had a much needed nap, a product of too much turkey and dessert. An empty passing train was heading the same way we were, for the prairies. Mel had said he had heard the elevators were willing to dry the grain for free.
Lilly and I gave each other a long lasting hug before we parted at the retirement center. We knew it would be a while before we would see each other again. And as I write this this morning, I, like Rick Comrie expressed the day before at the Thanksgiving dinner, feel the lump in my throat and tears in my eyes that come with the memories of mom and everyone else in this family. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude to have been here and I'm sure Uncle John feels the same way.
Thankyou all.
A shadow begins to cover a brilliant full moon hanging just above the Alberta prairie on our drive back to the "Hilton", as John likes to refer to our lodging. We invite Sharon to come over to watch the remainder of the eclipse from our deck. Jurg is east of Hardisty, bow hunting for moose or elk and hadn't arrived home yet. Sharon hoped he wouldn't be successful in the hunt as she did not relish the idea of helping haul the ATV over there to haul a 1500 pound moose out of the woods this late at night.
After watching the full eclipse, John and I went inside to warm up and he said "The next full eclipse will be in 18 years and I will be 102 years old". I told John "I will be 85 years old and if we come up to Alberta to see it, I'll be doing the driving"! We had a good chuckle and then we both fell asleep in our chairs in front of theTV set, content with a day full of food, family, and fun activities.
Sept. 28th 2015
Grandpa Elmer Erickson was one of the founding fathers of Sharon Lutheran Church. A pillar to the staunch Christian faith of the many arriving Scandinavian immigrants, Sharon was built upon one of the many hills surrounding the Erickson farm. The first building one sees as they leave the farm is Sharon, a constant reminder, lest one tends to forget one's blessings.
The influx of Scandinavian immigrants to the Irma area began around 1895. English, Scots and Irish settlers, remnants of the Hudson's Bay Company, watched as these strange speaking people moved across the prairies on to various farms and eventually became productive, hard working, citizens. Better yet they wanted to become Canadians and speak English. Best of all, they were Christians.
A few miles to the north on a parallel rail line another group of immigrants speaking a strange language , moved onto the prairies and settled on farms. Some referred to these people as the "Galicians" (Ukranians and other people from the Balkans). These people also became productive citizens who also wanted to speak English and become Canadians. Soon church spires, to the relief of the neighboring Scandinavians, were spread across the prairies near their farms.
Sporadic rains have dampened the prairie and maybe the spirit of the farmers somewhat. Today would be spent drying grain, trucking grain to the elevator, and getting set for the coming good weather. Elevators in neighboring towns were offering premiums for the much needed grain. Erickson Agro had a commitment to reach by Sept. 30. John had been wanting to ride in the Volvo truck on a trip to the elevators. Today was his opportunity.
Highways and rail lines span the area like spokes on a bicycle, centering on the city of Edmonton. The small community elevators near rail lines have disappeared, Jarrow, the listed birth place of my mother, being one of them.
Jarrow, closest town with an elevator, was most often the destination of Erickson grain. In the early days before trucks, the grain was hauled by horse and wagon and shoveled onto the floor of the elevator where it was elevated and made ready for the trains. Later a pulley system was used to lift the front end of trucks to enable the grain to flow out the back end and easing the work load of the farmers. Technology forced the small communities to either adapt or get out of the business. Few towns on the prairies exist without elevators as the elevator was the heart of the community and pumped the lifeblood, grain.
Grandpa Elmer Erickson was one of the founding fathers of Sharon Lutheran Church. A pillar to the staunch Christian faith of the many arriving Scandinavian immigrants, Sharon was built upon one of the many hills surrounding the Erickson farm. The first building one sees as they leave the farm is Sharon, a constant reminder, lest one tends to forget one's blessings.
The influx of Scandinavian immigrants to the Irma area began around 1895. English, Scots and Irish settlers, remnants of the Hudson's Bay Company, watched as these strange speaking people moved across the prairies on to various farms and eventually became productive, hard working, citizens. Better yet they wanted to become Canadians and speak English. Best of all, they were Christians.
A few miles to the north on a parallel rail line another group of immigrants speaking a strange language , moved onto the prairies and settled on farms. Some referred to these people as the "Galicians" (Ukranians and other people from the Balkans). These people also became productive citizens who also wanted to speak English and become Canadians. Soon church spires, to the relief of the neighboring Scandinavians, were spread across the prairies near their farms.
Sporadic rains have dampened the prairie and maybe the spirit of the farmers somewhat. Today would be spent drying grain, trucking grain to the elevator, and getting set for the coming good weather. Elevators in neighboring towns were offering premiums for the much needed grain. Erickson Agro had a commitment to reach by Sept. 30. John had been wanting to ride in the Volvo truck on a trip to the elevators. Today was his opportunity.
Highways and rail lines span the area like spokes on a bicycle, centering on the city of Edmonton. The small community elevators near rail lines have disappeared, Jarrow, the listed birth place of my mother, being one of them.
Jarrow, closest town with an elevator, was most often the destination of Erickson grain. In the early days before trucks, the grain was hauled by horse and wagon and shoveled onto the floor of the elevator where it was elevated and made ready for the trains. Later a pulley system was used to lift the front end of trucks to enable the grain to flow out the back end and easing the work load of the farmers. Technology forced the small communities to either adapt or get out of the business. Few towns on the prairies exist without elevators as the elevator was the heart of the community and pumped the lifeblood, grain.
Sept. 29th 2015
The morning star (Venus) is the only visible light from my chair as I sit and have my coffee and toast this morning at the cabin. Last evening’s full moon having migrated to the west. Mel and Laurie have stocked the cabin with among other things a loaf of multi-grain bread loaded with flax seed, honey, and butter.
In Canada, the butter comes in a large cube that looks more like a piece of masonry or building block, a kilo I guess. I only wish we could get butter cubes this size in the US. As a famous, now deceased (I hope not from too much butter), filmmaker from New York, Nora Ephron, once said, "You can never have too much butter". I'm thinking she and I could have been good friends discussing the various ways, unimaginable to most people that one could use butter. If you like butter on popcorn, have you ever thought of using it as a dip for taco chips? Probably, but like me you just don't want to admit it to others.
One of the missions today for Uncle John and I will be to find the honey skep north of Irma that makes this delicious honey. My word check on this iPad has just underlined the word skep as if to indicate, "are you sure this word is right?" Yep, it is, but maybe not used in the right context. One never has an opportunity to use the word and I wasn't going to pass it up.
Mel and Laurie's granddaughter Sidney worked at this honey farm this past summer. The industrious wives of a couple of farm boys who produce honey had decided to make soaps, candles, and lip gloss from the bees wax.
When we arrived at the shop we found a neatly decorated room off to the side in a large, recently constructed building. The girls, one of which went to school with Kent and Tausha, just happened to be at the shop, which was open only occasionally. I told the girls I had to "atone" for my being away from my wife for so long and needed to look for some gifts. After doing a little shopping, the girls asked if we would like to take a small tour of the business.
Inside, three employees were busy extracting honey from the hives, completely oblivious to the honeybees buzzing around their exposed arms and faces, looking for their respective hives and hive-mates. John and I kept our hands busy swatting at bees while given a tour of the various processes involved to get the honey to the large tote at one end of the building.
John and I picked up a sandwich at the co-op store in Irma on the way back to the farm and made sure Mel got credit for the 6 percent refund on his account. We were sure he would notice that in the next billing cycle along with the discount he receives for thousands of dollars purchased in fuel, fertilizer, and chemicals used on the farm. Just kidding Mel.
We got back just in time for the first truck leaving for Killum, about a 40 kilometer trip from the farm. John rode in the Volvo tandem axle truck on the first trip while I visited with Jurg who was drying and loading the second truck.
There was only one truck at the elevator when we arrived. The Volvo carries about 45 ton of wheat, the Freightliner truck carries about 25 ton. Erickson Agro had contracted to deliver 200 ton by Sept. 30. and the next load in the Volvo should fulfill that contract. A train bound for Vancouver and the waiting cargo ships in the harbor was idle beneath the large cement towers, moving ahead to accept a 90 ton load in each car. Mel and I figured each 180 car train carried approx. 16,000 tons of wheat on its trip to Vancouver. Erickson Agro's 200 ton would fill two and one quarter rail cars.
The prairies "gift of grain" to the world this year will be abundant but a little less than normal as the rains were less than desirable. Life goes on and risks must be taken each year by the many farmers. As one story goes, a banker once asked a farmer: "When we're your 2 best years farming?" The farmer thought for a while and replied, "1987 and next year"!
Having been a farmer all my life, I know Mel and Kent, like Uncle Ralph and Grandpa Elmer, would answer the same.
The morning star (Venus) is the only visible light from my chair as I sit and have my coffee and toast this morning at the cabin. Last evening’s full moon having migrated to the west. Mel and Laurie have stocked the cabin with among other things a loaf of multi-grain bread loaded with flax seed, honey, and butter.
In Canada, the butter comes in a large cube that looks more like a piece of masonry or building block, a kilo I guess. I only wish we could get butter cubes this size in the US. As a famous, now deceased (I hope not from too much butter), filmmaker from New York, Nora Ephron, once said, "You can never have too much butter". I'm thinking she and I could have been good friends discussing the various ways, unimaginable to most people that one could use butter. If you like butter on popcorn, have you ever thought of using it as a dip for taco chips? Probably, but like me you just don't want to admit it to others.
One of the missions today for Uncle John and I will be to find the honey skep north of Irma that makes this delicious honey. My word check on this iPad has just underlined the word skep as if to indicate, "are you sure this word is right?" Yep, it is, but maybe not used in the right context. One never has an opportunity to use the word and I wasn't going to pass it up.
Mel and Laurie's granddaughter Sidney worked at this honey farm this past summer. The industrious wives of a couple of farm boys who produce honey had decided to make soaps, candles, and lip gloss from the bees wax.
When we arrived at the shop we found a neatly decorated room off to the side in a large, recently constructed building. The girls, one of which went to school with Kent and Tausha, just happened to be at the shop, which was open only occasionally. I told the girls I had to "atone" for my being away from my wife for so long and needed to look for some gifts. After doing a little shopping, the girls asked if we would like to take a small tour of the business.
Inside, three employees were busy extracting honey from the hives, completely oblivious to the honeybees buzzing around their exposed arms and faces, looking for their respective hives and hive-mates. John and I kept our hands busy swatting at bees while given a tour of the various processes involved to get the honey to the large tote at one end of the building.
John and I picked up a sandwich at the co-op store in Irma on the way back to the farm and made sure Mel got credit for the 6 percent refund on his account. We were sure he would notice that in the next billing cycle along with the discount he receives for thousands of dollars purchased in fuel, fertilizer, and chemicals used on the farm. Just kidding Mel.
We got back just in time for the first truck leaving for Killum, about a 40 kilometer trip from the farm. John rode in the Volvo tandem axle truck on the first trip while I visited with Jurg who was drying and loading the second truck.
There was only one truck at the elevator when we arrived. The Volvo carries about 45 ton of wheat, the Freightliner truck carries about 25 ton. Erickson Agro had contracted to deliver 200 ton by Sept. 30. and the next load in the Volvo should fulfill that contract. A train bound for Vancouver and the waiting cargo ships in the harbor was idle beneath the large cement towers, moving ahead to accept a 90 ton load in each car. Mel and I figured each 180 car train carried approx. 16,000 tons of wheat on its trip to Vancouver. Erickson Agro's 200 ton would fill two and one quarter rail cars.
The prairies "gift of grain" to the world this year will be abundant but a little less than normal as the rains were less than desirable. Life goes on and risks must be taken each year by the many farmers. As one story goes, a banker once asked a farmer: "When we're your 2 best years farming?" The farmer thought for a while and replied, "1987 and next year"!
Having been a farmer all my life, I know Mel and Kent, like Uncle Ralph and Grandpa Elmer, would answer the same.
Sept. 30th 2015
Hardisty, Alberta, now the beginning of the controversial Keystone Pipeline, was the location of the nearest hospital to the Erickson farm in 1948. Grandma Anna Honningsvag Erickson was taken to this hospital with heart trouble. Son Ralph Erickson had returned to the family homestead after spending a few years in Sedro Woolley, Washington USA. One evening Uncle Ralph, Uncle John, and a relative Ludvig Hollinger (Dicka Fluevog) went to visit Grandma at the hospital.
Before leaving for home they decided to get a bite to eat at one of the local cafes. Oscar Reitan, a hefty Norwegian and friend from Irma, stepped out of the local Hardisty bar, which closed at 10:00 pm and decided to get a bite to eat also before going home. In the early days around Irma, Oscar was considered an expert on the old stationary threshing machines and his help was in high demand. He was also one of Irma's finest storyteller's.
While visiting with Uncle John and the others at the cafe, Oscar began to tell the story about the time he helped one farmer who was always a little bit behind getting the bank paid. One day a fancy car pulled into the farmstead during harvest time and a couple of fellows in nice suits walked up to Oscar to ask where the owner of the farm was.
Oscar was tending the belt connected between the steam driven tractor and the stationary threshing machine parked 70 feet away. These belts had to be lined up perfectly with one twist that helped to keep them centered on the drive pulley on the tractor and the pulley on the threshing machine. Occasionally, the operators would rub belt dressing (a sticky tar solution) to the belt while it was running to give it more gripping power. This helped to eliminate any slippage when the shocks of grain were thrown by hand into the threshing machine. Horse drawn wagons carried the shocks of grain from the fields, where the farmer was loading another wagon, for the threshing machine.
Not knowing the danger presented by farm equipment, but being more knowledgeable about finance and balance sheets, one of the unsuspecting bankers got a little too close to the belt. Before he knew it, the sticky belt had caught the tail of his coat and in a split second stripped most of the clothes off his upper body. His fancy coat then wrapped around the pulley to the threshing machine and was now making a loud "thwack", "thwack", "thwack" sound.
The horses pulling the wagon, (and here I am going to have to give it the names Maude and Prince that used to pull Grandpa Moe's milk wagon in Mount Vernon) wonderful beasts of burden that they are, had become accustomed to the many loud noises and the bustling activity around the threshing machine. But this new loud unfamiliar "thwack" "thwack" "thwack" sound seemed especially irritating to Maude and Prince.
Startled by the ruckus, Maude and Prince took protective measures and bolted forward causing the men on the wagon whose job had been forking the shocks into the threshing machine to scramble to gain their balance and control of a wagon and horses gone "wild".
The remainder of the threshing crew looked on in bewilderment, head and hands now resting on inactive pitchforks, watching as Maude and Prince were kicking up their hooves in a trail of dust, heading for the safety of the wheat field.
The two bankers were last seen walking dejectedly back to their fancy car, one dressed in his fine black suit and tie and the other completely stripped but for a few torn remnants dangling from each arm. And the indebted farmer, other than watching his horses run back to the field with half a load of unthreshed shocks of wheat, he was completely oblivious to the commotion back at the threshing machine and safe from the upset bankers for at least another day or two and I imagine even longer.
John and I stopped at Sharon Lutheran Church on the way to Wainwright today. We both wanted to visit the gravesites of relatives, friends, and neighbors. Each gravestone brought a short story or memory from John. When we stopped at the grave site of Oscar Reitan, a big smile came across John's face and he couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh and then he proceeded to tell the story about his trip to Hardisty and Oscar Reitan.
By the end of the story we were both laughing and wondering about the irony of being in a graveyard and acting so disrespectfully. But then as we walked by Uncle Ralph and Uncle Lloyd's graves, John said, "Lloyd and Ralph would appreciate the laughter".
The combine would be near Wainwright today harvesting 100 acres of wheat from a field near Jurg and Sharon's property that had been farmed organically but not sustainably for many years. You could say the land was in a state of disrepair and needed to be built up with organic matter and nitrogen, fixable problems with proper crop rotation. While there, we visited the site where Jurg and Sharon were to move their modular home overlooking the Battle River. Someday they hope to build a new house here.
The farm was bustling with activity today. A load of Canola had already been taken to Viking, and Kent was combining early as they wanted to finish here and return to the main farm near Irma tomorrow and begin combining more canola. John rode the combine while I went with Mel in the Volvo to the farm where the day's first load of wheat would be stored in a bin.
At 5:30, Tausha brought a hearty meal to the field complete with coffee and dessert. I was reminded of my first visit to the farm during harvest about 15 years ago. I always had a knack for showing up at dinnertime and Lily had just set up meal time at the Jackson place as I pulled into the field. I even remembered that we had fried chicken that day.
The weather looked threatening and we even had a few drops of rain so Kent took his pie and coffee with him as he returned to the combine. John and I left for the cabin and stopped by to say goodbye to Laurie in Irma as we were leaving the next morning. Mel stopped by the cabin after unloading more wheat and we had a short visit. He said they were done with 30 percent of the harvest and the weather should be good for the remainder of the week.
I could detect a sigh of relief, at least for this one day. Every day during harvest a challenge, a puzzle to be put together to reach that final day in the fall when all the crops are in and the combine operator jumps off his or her combine and tosses their hat into the threshing chamber of the running machine, signifying ...praise God, the work is done!
Hardisty, Alberta, now the beginning of the controversial Keystone Pipeline, was the location of the nearest hospital to the Erickson farm in 1948. Grandma Anna Honningsvag Erickson was taken to this hospital with heart trouble. Son Ralph Erickson had returned to the family homestead after spending a few years in Sedro Woolley, Washington USA. One evening Uncle Ralph, Uncle John, and a relative Ludvig Hollinger (Dicka Fluevog) went to visit Grandma at the hospital.
Before leaving for home they decided to get a bite to eat at one of the local cafes. Oscar Reitan, a hefty Norwegian and friend from Irma, stepped out of the local Hardisty bar, which closed at 10:00 pm and decided to get a bite to eat also before going home. In the early days around Irma, Oscar was considered an expert on the old stationary threshing machines and his help was in high demand. He was also one of Irma's finest storyteller's.
While visiting with Uncle John and the others at the cafe, Oscar began to tell the story about the time he helped one farmer who was always a little bit behind getting the bank paid. One day a fancy car pulled into the farmstead during harvest time and a couple of fellows in nice suits walked up to Oscar to ask where the owner of the farm was.
Oscar was tending the belt connected between the steam driven tractor and the stationary threshing machine parked 70 feet away. These belts had to be lined up perfectly with one twist that helped to keep them centered on the drive pulley on the tractor and the pulley on the threshing machine. Occasionally, the operators would rub belt dressing (a sticky tar solution) to the belt while it was running to give it more gripping power. This helped to eliminate any slippage when the shocks of grain were thrown by hand into the threshing machine. Horse drawn wagons carried the shocks of grain from the fields, where the farmer was loading another wagon, for the threshing machine.
Not knowing the danger presented by farm equipment, but being more knowledgeable about finance and balance sheets, one of the unsuspecting bankers got a little too close to the belt. Before he knew it, the sticky belt had caught the tail of his coat and in a split second stripped most of the clothes off his upper body. His fancy coat then wrapped around the pulley to the threshing machine and was now making a loud "thwack", "thwack", "thwack" sound.
The horses pulling the wagon, (and here I am going to have to give it the names Maude and Prince that used to pull Grandpa Moe's milk wagon in Mount Vernon) wonderful beasts of burden that they are, had become accustomed to the many loud noises and the bustling activity around the threshing machine. But this new loud unfamiliar "thwack" "thwack" "thwack" sound seemed especially irritating to Maude and Prince.
Startled by the ruckus, Maude and Prince took protective measures and bolted forward causing the men on the wagon whose job had been forking the shocks into the threshing machine to scramble to gain their balance and control of a wagon and horses gone "wild".
The remainder of the threshing crew looked on in bewilderment, head and hands now resting on inactive pitchforks, watching as Maude and Prince were kicking up their hooves in a trail of dust, heading for the safety of the wheat field.
The two bankers were last seen walking dejectedly back to their fancy car, one dressed in his fine black suit and tie and the other completely stripped but for a few torn remnants dangling from each arm. And the indebted farmer, other than watching his horses run back to the field with half a load of unthreshed shocks of wheat, he was completely oblivious to the commotion back at the threshing machine and safe from the upset bankers for at least another day or two and I imagine even longer.
John and I stopped at Sharon Lutheran Church on the way to Wainwright today. We both wanted to visit the gravesites of relatives, friends, and neighbors. Each gravestone brought a short story or memory from John. When we stopped at the grave site of Oscar Reitan, a big smile came across John's face and he couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh and then he proceeded to tell the story about his trip to Hardisty and Oscar Reitan.
By the end of the story we were both laughing and wondering about the irony of being in a graveyard and acting so disrespectfully. But then as we walked by Uncle Ralph and Uncle Lloyd's graves, John said, "Lloyd and Ralph would appreciate the laughter".
The combine would be near Wainwright today harvesting 100 acres of wheat from a field near Jurg and Sharon's property that had been farmed organically but not sustainably for many years. You could say the land was in a state of disrepair and needed to be built up with organic matter and nitrogen, fixable problems with proper crop rotation. While there, we visited the site where Jurg and Sharon were to move their modular home overlooking the Battle River. Someday they hope to build a new house here.
The farm was bustling with activity today. A load of Canola had already been taken to Viking, and Kent was combining early as they wanted to finish here and return to the main farm near Irma tomorrow and begin combining more canola. John rode the combine while I went with Mel in the Volvo to the farm where the day's first load of wheat would be stored in a bin.
At 5:30, Tausha brought a hearty meal to the field complete with coffee and dessert. I was reminded of my first visit to the farm during harvest about 15 years ago. I always had a knack for showing up at dinnertime and Lily had just set up meal time at the Jackson place as I pulled into the field. I even remembered that we had fried chicken that day.
The weather looked threatening and we even had a few drops of rain so Kent took his pie and coffee with him as he returned to the combine. John and I left for the cabin and stopped by to say goodbye to Laurie in Irma as we were leaving the next morning. Mel stopped by the cabin after unloading more wheat and we had a short visit. He said they were done with 30 percent of the harvest and the weather should be good for the remainder of the week.
I could detect a sigh of relief, at least for this one day. Every day during harvest a challenge, a puzzle to be put together to reach that final day in the fall when all the crops are in and the combine operator jumps off his or her combine and tosses their hat into the threshing chamber of the running machine, signifying ...praise God, the work is done!
In 1794 Alexander Mackenzie an explorer for the Northwest Company, a competing business with the Hudsons Bay Company, explored the region north and west of central Alberta. The fashion world demanded more beaver pelts for the current top hat fad in Europe. It is estimated 400 million beaver at one time occupied North America, and Mackenzie was looking for new trapping grounds and also the elusive "Northwest Passage", a route through the continent to the Pacific Ocean.
One trip took him north on a river that would one day bear his name which flowed out of Great Slave Lake and eventually emptied into the Beaufort Sea above the Arctic Circle. Two Hundred years later, David Gibson, husband to Ethel Fluevog Gibson could be found retracing this route each summer as he piloted a barge with supplies up the Mackenzie River to the land locked settlements on the Beaufort Sea. The Mackenzie was free of ice for only a few months each summer. This route, as fate would have it, was the only northwest passage available.
Mackenzie's other trip of note was across the many mountain ranges between central Alberta and the Pacific coast. His journey ended near Bella Coola, British Columbia. This exploratory trip was completed 12 years before the famous Voyage of Discovery by Lewis and Clark in 1805-1806. It should be noted that the Voyage of Discovery involved more detailed mapping and collection of information in the region.
John and I left the cabin on a sunny morning and headed toward Camrose. Our route home would take us through numerous small farm communities, and ranch land and eventually to Rocky Mountain House and Saskatchewan Crossing. The Fall colors could rival anything I'd ever seen before as we descended the foothills into a basin that was the beginning of the watershed to the North Saskatchewan River. Beyond lay the Rocky Mountains, Purcell Mountains, Selkirk Mountains, and Coastal Mountain Range. One could only imagine what Alexander Mackenzie went through on his journey to the Pacific Ocean.
When it came my turn to drive, I found myself getting drowsy and eventually I figured out that I had unthinkingly taken an allergy pill that morning and now was struggling with it's affect. The label even said not to drive or operate equipment. John did most of the driving until the affects of the pill wore off around 5:00. Construction work on the Trans Canada Highway held us up for 45 minutes so we found ourselves driving in the dark to reach our destination for that night, Revelstoke.
The next day John dropped me off at 4:00 pm at the airport in Abbottsford where I had left my car, and we said our goodbyes. It was a great trip and I told John next year I would like to travel to Fort McMurray and tour the Tar Sands and someday I would like to visit Wood Buffalo park in northern Alberta, a haven for the remaining Buffalo herds, an area almost the size of the state of Washington. There's a lot to see in this province and It will take a lot of trips up there, and then I reminded John that I get to do the driving when we go up there to see that eclipse in 18 years.
Don
One trip took him north on a river that would one day bear his name which flowed out of Great Slave Lake and eventually emptied into the Beaufort Sea above the Arctic Circle. Two Hundred years later, David Gibson, husband to Ethel Fluevog Gibson could be found retracing this route each summer as he piloted a barge with supplies up the Mackenzie River to the land locked settlements on the Beaufort Sea. The Mackenzie was free of ice for only a few months each summer. This route, as fate would have it, was the only northwest passage available.
Mackenzie's other trip of note was across the many mountain ranges between central Alberta and the Pacific coast. His journey ended near Bella Coola, British Columbia. This exploratory trip was completed 12 years before the famous Voyage of Discovery by Lewis and Clark in 1805-1806. It should be noted that the Voyage of Discovery involved more detailed mapping and collection of information in the region.
John and I left the cabin on a sunny morning and headed toward Camrose. Our route home would take us through numerous small farm communities, and ranch land and eventually to Rocky Mountain House and Saskatchewan Crossing. The Fall colors could rival anything I'd ever seen before as we descended the foothills into a basin that was the beginning of the watershed to the North Saskatchewan River. Beyond lay the Rocky Mountains, Purcell Mountains, Selkirk Mountains, and Coastal Mountain Range. One could only imagine what Alexander Mackenzie went through on his journey to the Pacific Ocean.
When it came my turn to drive, I found myself getting drowsy and eventually I figured out that I had unthinkingly taken an allergy pill that morning and now was struggling with it's affect. The label even said not to drive or operate equipment. John did most of the driving until the affects of the pill wore off around 5:00. Construction work on the Trans Canada Highway held us up for 45 minutes so we found ourselves driving in the dark to reach our destination for that night, Revelstoke.
The next day John dropped me off at 4:00 pm at the airport in Abbottsford where I had left my car, and we said our goodbyes. It was a great trip and I told John next year I would like to travel to Fort McMurray and tour the Tar Sands and someday I would like to visit Wood Buffalo park in northern Alberta, a haven for the remaining Buffalo herds, an area almost the size of the state of Washington. There's a lot to see in this province and It will take a lot of trips up there, and then I reminded John that I get to do the driving when we go up there to see that eclipse in 18 years.
Don