My boss decided to move into the new town which was now springing up near the original place where we camped upon our arrival. He eventually built a store, the first one in the colony, and continued in this business for many years until his death. His only son now carries on the business. I put in a lonely winter on that farm, never having lived alone before. It was a new experience. Except for the odd settler who happened to come by on his way to town I saw no one all winter.

* **

In the spring, I was able to purchase a team of oxen so I left my winter job and decided to freight for the different stores that had now begun to spring up in town. The oxen had trekked up from Saskatoon with some of the settlers and had been named Moses and Aaron, because they had led the way to the "Promised Land."

The team cost me $150 and I had to go $90 into debt for a wagon. I signed a note to a machine agent in town and when he found out I was not 21 and my signature was not legal, he wanted to call the deal off, but I already had possession of the wagon and convinced him that he need not worry about the payment when the note became due.

As soon as the ice went out of the Saskatchewan River, scows came down from Edmonton with all kinds of stores, lumber and machinery. They landed at Fort Pitt due north of our town, so there was always a job for me hauling freight from the scows. Many teams, both horses and oxen, were engaged in this work. We made about $20 per two day trip. Each freighter carried his roll of blankets and grub box. We slept under our wagons at night and cooked our meals over open fires on the prairie, often shooting a chicken or duck as chance afforded.

In this way, I made out very well during the summer, managed to pay for my wagon and had a little left over. In the fall I made two long trips to Saskatoon for freight for the storekeepers. These trips took 21 days and were pretty hard on man and team, but we made about $100 a trip which gave me a great stake for the winter. Thinking there would not be much doing during the winter months, and not wanting to be idle and spend all my money living till spring came again, I decided to rent my oxen out to some friends for the winter and get a job if possible in a lumber camp where we had heard that men were wanted.

***

Three other Irishmen and myself decided to go down the Saskatchewan River by rowboat to Prince Albert where there were large lumber camps north of the town. We each took blankets and grub box along, bought a rowboat from one of the scow owners on the river and started on our long water trip. We had been told that it would take about five days to complete the journey, as we were going with the stream all the way.

Instead of the five days it took 12 and we had some real experiences and hardships before arriving at our destination. I left most of my wealth at home in safe keeping, as did the other members of our party, so we had only really taken a few dollars to buy the extra food which we might need.

The river winds and twists in mysterious curves all the way down. We ran into blind channels before we knew it and had to pull our boat over sand bars and into the right current again before we could proceed on our way. It took us five days to reach Battleford and then we were only half way. Our grub had run out so we stopped there and replenished our supply. I bought a five pound pail of "Upton" Jam and a big chunk of "sowbelly". The other boys bought bread, beans and a tin of molasses.

We rested up one day, did some washing on the river bank, and moved on next morning. Anxious to finish our trip as soon as possible, we took turns in rowing to increase our speed, which helped a lot, but again we ran into all kinds of dead end channels. We would see an island ahead and steer for the widest channel, only to find out it was the other side we should have taken.

The nights were getting very cold. As we had not taken along a tent we had to sleep out on the river bank covered only by our blankets. We eventually decided to build a fire at night from the driftwood along the shore and took turns keeping awake and replenishing it.

We were now four days out of Battleford; our grub was almost gone again and no sign of Prince Albert, and no place to get more food. Still we kept going and the last three days we lived on pretty slim rations. The last day we snared rabbits at night by moonlight and mighty good they tasted after going on an empty stomach for the last part of our journey.

* **

On the 12th evening, after we had begun to think we must have taken the wrong turn, we saw the lights of Prince Albert. How welcome those lights were! I’ll never forget the sight. We landed right close to the town. The main street at that time faced the river, so we had not far to go.

We had spent all our money at Battleford, so wondered what we would do till morning. One of us decided to go to a Chinese restaurant which we saw nearby and see if we could sell our boat for something to eat. The Chinese man came down to the river, took a look at our craft and told us to "Come and eat".

We surely tucked away a good meal as our host gave us all we could eat. Our boat was no use to us now, so we figured we had made a good deal; we had only paid $4 for it and it had carried us safely all the way about 250 miles.

It was now time to find a place to sleep, as we did not relish the river bank those cold nights. We spotted a building in course of construction and decided to camp there for the night. We had scarcely laid down when a watchman came and bawled us out for sleeping there, so we told him we had just arrived from up the river that night, we had no money for a room and had to sleep somewhere.

He calmed down a bit then and took us along to the old Queen’s Hotel where he arranged with the boss to let us sleep in the baggage room. So down we bunked on the floor in a warm room for the night and slept like dead men.

In the morning the proprietor treated us to breakfast and headed us toward the lumber company’s office down the street. Years afterward I visited Prince Albert while taking my daughter to a private school and dropped into the old hotel again but did not find anyone there I had met in the early days.

We were hired on at the lumber company office and told there was a freighter going north that morning and we could go along to the camp 60 miles away. We stopped at other camps for food and bed on the way and that was my first introduction to lice.

I had never experienced these horrid creatures before and could not at first make out what was wrong. I itched all over and did not discover until morning that we had slept in beds overrun with them. As we had no lice powder, we had to bear the unpleasantness.

We arrived at camp two days after leaving Prince Albert and were instructed to go to the office and report for work. We were hired for the winter at $15 per month and board so we were very well pleased with ourselves at having found work and a good place to spend the winter. However, all did not turn out as we had hoped. None of us had any experience working in the woods as we soon found out to our cost.

After a good night’s sleep (in spite of the lice which refused to leave such sweet Irish blood) and breakfast, the foreman gave us axe heads and handles and told us to "hang" them. We inquired of some of the other workers what he meant and discovered that we were expected to fit the axe heads to the handles. We eventually managed to complete this task and were taken a short distance from camp on foot and told by the boss to cut a skid road. We gathered that we were supposed to cut a narrow roadway through the forest for hauling out logs on sleighs.

We set to work with great determination to show what we could do, and cut down trees all morning, felling them about waist high and clearin the tops off to the side. The work was enjoyable and we looked forward to a good dinner at noon.

Presently the foreman came out to see how we were doing and when he saw the high stumps he started to cuss and swear. He used words I had never heard before and wound up with "you damned green Englishmen, get the hell out of here" and left us in a towering rage. We all felt badly as we had worked hard and thought we had done a good job. At that moment the dinner gong rang and we all went back to camp.

After dinner the foreman told us to call at the office. We thought we were to be given a new job that we could manage better but much to our chagrin we were each handed a paper which said "P1ease pay to bearer one half day’s wages at the rate of $15 per month."

That put an end to our hopes of a good winter’s work in the bush and money in our pockets, which was sorely needed. We were told that we could catch a freighter back to Prince Albert that afternoon, so we packed our blankets and started back the long road.

In Prince Albert I was lucky to meet a fellow colonist who homesteaded close to me. He had been working during the summer at Prince Albert and was on his way home via Saskatoon by train. I told him I was broke and wanted to get back to the Colony so he loaned me $10 to pay my train fare back to Saskatoon. There we met a freighter called Jack Low who was also from the colony. He was in Saskatoon with two teams and wagons hauling freight and told us if we would drive one of his teams we could go back with him and he would supply the grub. This we were glad to do and after loading up the wagons started back on the long trail once again.

By now it was getting cold and sleeping under the wagons at night was not the best kind of accommodation. We slept with our clothes and boots on. If we had taken the latter off they would have frozen stiff and we would not have been able to get them on again in the morning. In about 10 days time we arrived home and pleased we were to reach the colony again.

I decided to get my oxen back and found that the man I had loaned them to had taken good care of them. I got a job hauling firewood for the different campers who, for one reason or another, could not get their own, and I did very well all winter. I cut and hauled two loads a day and charged $2 a load.

The wood was dry poplar and could be had in the bluffs not far from where the colonists were all camped. I had a friend living in town in a small log shack that was anything but warm. He asked me to bunk in with him and share expenses which I gladly did as I had no place of my own.

A sad incident occurred during this winter. A colonist called Lawrence was walking into town to collect his mail. He left home in the morning and had about 10 miles to walk. When he was about half way to town a blizzard commenced. He managed to get himself completely lost in the driving storm and started walking in circles. Night came on and he was still lost and by morning he had frozen his hands and his feet. He had on a short goatskin coat and as he was reduced to crawling on all fours he looked very much like a bear.

In the morning light, he saw a cabin nearby and crawled toward it. The owner of the cabin saw something that looked like a bear coming and went for his gun but fortunately discovered the error in time to prevent a tragedy when he heard the poor fellow call out "Don’t shoot."

The cabin owner soon got him in by the stove and gave him hot drinks and something to eat, and then decided to take him to town with the team and wagon. However, the doctor could do little for the poor fellow.

He was engaged to a girl in England and had wanted to get his mail that day. He would allow no one to read his letters and he died with his girl’s letter placed on his breast and in dreadful agony. We had no facilities so nothing much could be done for him.

***

By this time the town of Lloydminster had started to take shape. We had the beginning of a main street and councillors were elected to govern and to do what they could to improve our position. While the young men were in Lloydminster hanging around and doing any kind of job waiting for spring and the opportunity to get back to our homesteads and commence work, we spent Sunday mornings riding wild steers which were being sold in town by a rancher who had brought them in for the homesteaders. We would draw straws to see who would ride each morning. A small collection was generally taken up among the crowd that always gathered to see the fun.

One particular Sunday I had drawn the long straw and was due for a ride. The steer was brought out on the main street by a cowboy with a rope and we put the stock saddle on. This was quite a job in itself, but we always managed it somehow in spite of bucking and kicking by the enraged animal. We placed a crupper under its tail to keep the saddle from slipping over the steer’s head when he bucked.

When all was ready I climbed aboard and took a good hold of the saddle horn. There was no halter on the steer and the cowboy turned it loose, yelling "ride him cowboy." I hung on for dear life with the steer bucking and running like mad.

Down the street was a tent restaurant run by Miss Postuma, a Dutch woman who spoke broken English and wore gold-rimmed glasses and was quite corpulent. What got into the steer’s mind I do not know but when it saw the tent door open it made straight for it and through to the rear exit knocking down chairs, tables, crockery, etc. on the way.

I saw "Cookie", as we called the Dutch woman, standing by her stove at the far end of the tent. When she saw what was coming she screamed and headed for the outside world, the steer after her and with me still aboard. By this time I had had enough so decided to let go. Through the back door went the bucking steer and down the road with the crowd still yelling. We took up a collection to pay Cookie for the damages, and needless to say the authorities put a stop to our fun on the main street.

* * *

It was around this time that Mr. Barr left the Colony one night during the summer for parts unknown. Things were getting too hot for him to remain and he no doubt got away with money he had no right to and many of the settlers were after his scalp. Years after we heard he had gone to Mexico and died there of cancer. Whether this is correct I do not know.

The Reverend Lloyd now took over the reins of government and gathered a few solid men around him to help administer to our wants. I cannot speak too highly of this clerical man. He held the colony together through difficult times and was loved by all. Many years afterward he became Bishop of Saskatchewan and eventually retired to British Columbia. I happened to be spending the winter in Victoria when the Bishop died and I was the only Barr Colonist to attend the funeral.

***

When the winter was about over and I had saved a little money I decided to leave for my homestead and put in some time there building a shack and doing some farming. In order to get title to our land from the government we had to live six months of each year on it for three years and do some ploughing. I commenced by building a log house for myself and a stable for the oxen. My house was completed eventually and glad I was to have some place to call home.

By this time the town of Lloydminster was starting to grow. Stores were being erected and lumber and hardware was shipped down the Saskatchewan River from Edmonton by scow to Fort Pitt, 20 miles north of the town. Food was also coming in from Saskatoon by teams and quite a few necessities could be bought. I started freighting with my oxen from Saskatoon for one of the local storekeepers, making $100 on each trip which took 20 days. We freighters slept under our wagons and took along a grub box with our food and utensils. I also carried a gun and lived high on prairie chicken, rabbits and ducks.

The following winter I was asked by Eddie Hamilton (who had taken a mail contract to bring the mail from Battleford 100 miles west to Lloydminster once a week) if I wanted the job of mail driver at $30 per month and board. I was glad of the offer and started my new job at once

We had a sleigh and good teams of drivers, one of which we drove one week and then rested while we used the second team. The roads were snow covered and going was not easy. We took three days to drive to Battleford, and the same time to return, stopping at night at regular stopping places on the road. The first was at Bob Lister’s at Waseca where the lodging and food was good. The next night we stopped at Sayers’ Ranch. This man was Metis and had a one—roomed shack for his wife and children. I carried my own blankets and slept on the floor. For privacy the wife turned out the light before getting undressed and ready for bed

The next day took me to Battleford where I stopped at a very nice hotel, delivered the mail to the post office and took on more sacks for delivery to Lloydminster and intervening places. This was a very cold job and since I seldom had any passengers it was lonesome as well.

***

On one of these weekly trips I had a harrowing experience. Setting out one morning from Sayers’ stopping place, I ran into a bad blizzard about 10 miles on my way. It rapidly grew worse and since it was coming straight from the west my horses soon refused to face into it. The trail rapidly blew in and with the horses continually wanting to turn out of the wind we were soon completely lost.

Night was approaching and I realized that I had better find some place to camp before darkness fell. I noticed a large willow bluff not far off and headed for that. We ended up inside a small circle of poplar and willows where the storm was not quite so severe. I unhitched the horses and put on their blankets, tied them to the sleigh and gave them a feed of oats. I always carried my own feed oats as many stopping places had none and they were very necessary for a team working hard for a whole week. I also carried an axe for an emergency and a tin bucket.

Collecting some small dry poplar wood from the bluff I soon had a good fire going and was comparatively comfortable. However, I carried no food and soon began to feel hungry. I smoked tobacco and chewed it but could not quell the longing for something to eat. Finally I thought of the bag of oats so I filled the bucket with snow, placed it over the fire put in oats and soon cooked up a good supply of mush. I could hardly wait to see how it would taste and soon found that I could enjoy it, husks and all, so had a good feed and felt better.

I tried to get some sleep but it was no use so kept the fire going and found it not too bad. Morning came and still it blew and snowed and I couldn’t see many yards ahead so decided to remain where I was until the storm passed over. About noon I heard a train whistle in the distance and decided that I could not be far from the new railroad grade that was heading for Lloydminster and that what I had heard was a work train.

The storm appeared to be abating somewhat so, after having another good feed of boiled oats and giving the horses their usual quota, I harnessed up and headed in the direction I had heard the whistle. We found the going very difficult as the snow had drifted badly.

We had to take it very easy as I did not want to play the team out.. However, the storm gradually blew itself out and the sun came out to cheer things up a bit. After continuing west for a mile or so I came across the new railroad grade and then knew where I was and was very pleased to be or my way again.

I was now one day late on my trip home but finally arrived there on Sunday evening, instead of the customary Saturday, and had to forego any rest and turn around next morning and head east to Battleford again.

* * *

When the winter came to an end I decided to return to my homestead and put in some more time and get some ploughing done. One Sunday, a neighbor living about two miles away invited me to have tea with them, so being fond of company and lonely I accepted. He and his wife lived in a sod shack and made me very welcome. I had dressed up a little and had on a nice, clean, white shirt. A packing box served as a table and while we were sitting around it having tea, a chunk of sod fell from the ceiling right into my cup of tea splashing my nice, clean shirt and causing a good laugh.

I was very interested in the floor that this settler had put into his sod house. It was built of short lengths of six inch poplar stems, standing on end side by side, with the interstices filled with earth.. On the whole it made a much better floor than the bare earth which most of us had. He said he had laid it during the winter months when he had little else to do. It certainly was a work of art and would last much longer than the sod house.

* * *

During the summer I received a letter from my brother Guy, in Belfast, saying that he would like to come out, to Canada and take up a homestead. I was pleased to hear this news so replied to advise him to come. There was a party of emigrants coming out in the spring so he decided to travel with it and they arrived in Battleford by train. I took my ox team and wagon down to meet Guy and also brought a load of freight back to help defray expenses.

My brother managed to locate a homestead next to my land so we planned to farm together and pool expenses. We bought a milk cow to help out on our food budget and found it very profitable as we had plenty of milk and even made butter. We built a churn out of a three gallon coffee tin, fixed a frame to hold the can solid and put in paddles with a crank to turn them.

One Sunday morning, when Guy was turning the churn and trying to get butter to come, suddenly the top of the churn flew off and the cream spattered up the wall, onto the ceiling, dawn the opposite wall and across the floor. What a mess! The flies soon congregated and we spent quite a morning cleaning up and killing flies.

That summer I took a contract to plough 25 acres of land at $3 an acre for a man called Jesus Armstrong who lived nearby. I used to get up at 5 am. and start ploughing before the sun came up as the oxen didn’t like working hard in warm weather.

We rested during the heat of the day and started work again at 4 p.m. and kept at it until dark. If the oxen got thirsty they would make straight for a slough, pulling the plough after them, until they were standing belly deep in the cooling water. When this happened all I could do was remove my pants and boots and wade in after them.

I had to purchase another ox to help with the heavy plowing as I discovered that two could not stand up to the work. One of our neighbors came over one day to see how I was getting along with the work. His first remark was "So you’re working for Jesus now!" "Yes", I said, "and he’s good pay too!"

* * *

My mother had written me from Ireland telling me that we had distant cousins living in Alberta at a place called Bittern Lake near Wetaskiwin and suggested that I should visit them if it was not too far away. I made inquiries and found the distance to be about 175 miles, so that same summer I decided to visit them.

I wrote telling them who I was and asking if it would be convenient to pay them a visit. I received a very kind letter in reply inviting me to come and stay at their ranch, so I found transportation to Edmonton by freighter and then down to Westaskiwin by train and from there to Bittern Lake where my cousin met me.

I was made very welcome and found that they had a boy and a girl about my age. The girl was already engaged to a young farmer so that put any ideas I might have had out of my head, much to my disappointment as I had been seriously thinking of finding a wife to share my life on the farm.

However, I had a pleasant time there and decided to buy a pony sand ride home and see the country on the way. I paid $60 for a fine little animal, also $10 for a second—hand saddle, and started back to Lloydminster, 175 miles away. There was no definite road home so I struck out in the general direction, getting a meal here and there at farms on the way and sleeping where night overtook me. It was a long weary ride and the poor little pony was more tired than I when we arrived home.

* **

The year 1906 brought the railroad to Lloydminster and great were the rejoicings the day the first passenger train steamed into town. Every one was dressed for the occasion and all enjoyed the day. Now anything could be shipped in from the east and there was a great demand for lumber, windows, doors and hardware. Stores in Winnipeg did a roaring trade with the colonists and we soon had a larger variety of food than we had previously enjoyed and which we badly needed.

The town commenced to take shape. A bank decided to locate and many new stores of all kinds were built. It was decided by Reverend Lloyd and his followers that a church should be built at once. Reverend J. Matheson, the resident Anglican minister at the Indian Mission School at Onion Lake, about 40 miles north of Lloydminster, was contacted and he arranged with some of his men to get logs from the bush for the church. The logs were squared with a broad axe and about 40 feet in length and cost $5 apiece.

Those colonists who could afford to do so were each asked to purchase a log. Our names were cut into the logs and remain to this day. We built a very imposing little church, which included a small bell. Now we could hold services there instead of in the large tent which had previously sufficed.

Many new houses were being built both in the town and by settlers in the surrounding country. People were sick and tired of sod abodes where one couldn’t live very long and still keep clean. Carpenters were in great demand and many settlers had enough capital to build nice homes.

A rather "amusing" incident occurred the previous winter in Lloydminster in one of the log houses that had been built the year before. Owned by a man named Gay, it had an upstairs that could be reached only by ladder. One very cold night Gay and his family were awakened by two travellers who had driven in from Edmonton and were looking for lodgings for the night.

Gay advised them that he had no room downstairs but they were welcome to sleep in the attic. In spite of the fact that a corpse that was frozen stiff was being stored up there awaiting the spring thaw when it could be given a decent burial, the travellers decided that they had but little choice at that hour of the night and accepted his offer.

They put their team away in the stable and carried blankets upstair where the corpse was lying on a rough bed "very quiet and peaceful." They decided to take it out of the bed, so it was propped up against the wall, and they crawled into bed.

Being very tired they were soon fast asleep when an owl flew onto the window sill and started to hoot. At the same moment the corpse slipped down from the wall with a thud. The travellers awoke with a start, thought that the corpse had come to life, and headed down the ladder yelling blue murder!

* * *

About this time I met my future wife. She was riding on a load of hay that her brother had brought into town to sell. I knew the Holtby boys but had not met their sister. We had lunch together and I was asked to visit them on their homestead which was about seven miles from where we were located.

Our friendship ripened into love and we became engaged that fall. I wanted to get out some logs that winter for my new stable so the Holtby boys asked me to stay with them and we could get out some good logs for both families from some timber not far from their home. This I accepted as I wanted to see more of my future wife.

We spent a good winter, working hard during the day and going to dances at the nearby farms in the evenings. I eventually hauled some nice logs home from the Holtby’s place and built a very good stable.

We had decided to be married in the following May so I got busy and built a small frame house on my own land. I got help with the framing and my brother and I finished it off and I was very proud of my first lumber home.

We were married in the little log church in the spring and went on our honeymoon to Edmonton by train, which was quite a luxury. We spent a few days at the old Windsor Hotel on Jasper Avenue and did some shopping. After spending five years on the prairies without seeing stores at all we enjoyed the shopping opportunities.

Guy met us at the station at Lloydminster an our return and drove us home with a team of horses I had recently purchased. Now instead of our slow oxen, we were able to ride in style and enjoyed the new mode of travel.

My wife soon got busy in our new home and made the place look more livable. I had purchased a second hand sewing machine for her since she had made me promise I would do so when were married. My brother lived with us for some time and the bachelors came from far and near to sample her cooking.

I well remember her surprise on washday when she removed first one, then two, then three, until she had removed 12 dirty pillow slips from one pillow. My brother and I had kept putting a clean one over the last dirty one without bothering to wash any!

***

My mother died just before we were married. I would have loved to have her come out and visit us if she had lived as she took such an interest in our doings and wanted to know about everything we did.

We lost our first baby that same fall through ignorance. We did not know that riding was not permissible during pregnancy and being very fond of riding our pony, my wife went galloping all over the country visiting here and there. The loss of our first born made us very sad. Later on we had a girl and a boy to bless our union.

We continued to live on the farm until the following summer, when I had the opportunity to buy a business in Lloydminster. After thinking the matter over carefully we decided to move into town where I went into the livery and sale stable business. My brother agreed to buy my land to which I had been given title by the government, so he took over our new home and lived there for many years. We rented a small house in town and later bought it after we had accumulated a little money.

I had always liked the job of handling horses and stock of all kinds so I was soon up to my neck in the business of buying and selling and doing very well. I had five livery teams and used to drive the police and doctors all over the country. I started a cartage business in town, hauling stores and produce from the railroad depot to the different stores.

Business grew with the town and I soon found myself almost snowed under looking after everything. One evening during the winter I was doing my books at the office when a team drove up and needed stabling for the night. It was about 40 degrees below and the driver was very cold and hungry, having driven down from Edmonton, some 200 miles to the west.

I got him into the warm office after stabling and feeding his horses. We started talking and I soon detected that he was an Irishman like myself. Very soon it developed that he too had come from Belfast and had been out in the woods near Edmonton working at a lumber camp. He had previously been in the Lloydminster district and had taken up a homestead but could not afford to stay at that time. He had come back to "put in his time" as required by the government.

I asked his name and was told it was "Despard." "Not Charlie Despard, surely," I said. "Yes," he said and who was I? I soon told him and we found that we had attended the same school and church many years ago and we knew one another’s families.

I took Charlie into partnership with me in the business and we worked together many years and made money for us both. He was a born soldier and had fought in the Boer War. When the First World War broke out he was a reservist in the Inniskillen Dragoons so nothing could stop him from leaving at once to join his old regiment. He said he would go and that I should remain at home and look after his share of the business while he was away.

Charlie had no wife at that time, so was free to go if he thought it his duty. He lasted until the last week of the war when he was killed riding with his men at Verdun. A shell blew his leg off and he and his horse were killed. He had married his old sweetheart in the south of Ireland during one of his leaves. In Charlie’s death I lost the best friend I ever had. My wife and children also loved him and we all felt the loss terribly.

Years later when I took my family to Ireland we visited his wife at Killkenny. She was proud to show us his war mementos and medals. I eventually bought out his share in our business at a satisfactory price to his wife and myself.

* **

About the year 1914 I decided to go into the automobile business. Cars were coming into use and I could see that, in a few years, horses were going to fade out.

I applied for the Ford Motor Agency and procured it. Eventually I disposed of my livery business and built a garage in a good location and went into something I knew nothing about. However, I soon learned to drive and in time taught many more buyers of cars to do the same. Of course, the farmers cursed the automobile at first as their horses were very much afraid of passing them on the road and I’m afraid that many sad accidents occurred before the teams got used to the new contraptions.

I soon had a good business. The doctors and the police preferred this mode of travel and we had some exciting experiences with the Model T’s.

One night, the doctor called me and said that he had to go to a confinement case about 30 miles west of town and could I provide a car? It was just starting to snow and getting dark when we left town and by the time we had arrived at the farm it was cold and blowing badly, with snow drifting over the roads.

The farmer’s house contained only one large room with no privacy at all. When the doctor started work I went to the stable and tried to keep warm. The doctor came out in about two hours and said it was a bad case and asked me to drive to the next town about six miles away for more chloroform, so off I started with no supper and feeling very cold.

I got the druggist out of bed, obtained the supplies and was back in good time in spite of the roads. The doctor advised that the baby was born dead and that both he and the mother were nearly exhausted.

After another hour he came out, saying that he had done all he could and that the mother would be all right. We arrived home as dawn was breaking, a very tired and hungry pair of men.

* **

On another occasion, in the month of November, I received an early morning call from the local provincial police officer requesting a car and a driver. He wished to deliver a summons to a farmer living on the north side of the Saskatchewan river some 20 miles north of Lloydminster.

When we arrived at the river we found it frozen over, but not sufficiently solid to support the weight of the car. We therefore were forced to walk across and deliver the summons on foot. As the day was quite cold I was wearing a fur coat and mitts.

We started across the ice in single file with the police officer following me at a safe distance. The ice appeared solid enough but, without warning, it suddenly gave way and dumped me into about 20 feet of swiftly moving water. I spread my arms and managed to grasp the firm ice ahead, with my wet mitts freezing instantly to it.

Fortunately there happened to be a farmer crossing at the same time from the far shore. He carried a long pole for testing the ice ahead of him and hearing my call for help he came running to my rescue. He slid the end of the long pole to me across the ice and I managed to get hold of it and hang on while he and the police officer pulled me out.

I was of course soaking wet and weighted down with a dripping fur coat which rapidly froze. We hurried to the ferryman’s shack on the river bank and built a roaring fire while I stripped off my clothes and hung them up to dry. My shoes I placed in the oven. A couple of hours later my clothes were dry again and I dressed. My shoes had shrunk while in the oven and since I could not get them on I wrapped my feet in sacking and we headed for town again. Outside of nearly freezing my feet on the drive home I suffered no ill effects.

That same winter, Corporal Duncan, another police officer, requested that I drive him to a farm 20 miles south of town where he had a reported murder to investigate.

We started out about 5 p.m. and as we approached the farm we saw about 50 farmers, all mounted on horses parading at a safe distance around the house. We were told that a returned soldier had shot his brother and the remainder of the family had fled. No one knew for sure where the soldier was but they suspected him to be still in the house.

The building was in darkness and Corporal Duncan told me to drive closer and turn out my lights. He then got out and with torch in one hand and revolver in the other proceeded toward the house.

I sat in the car watching and could see his torch light passing through the house from room to room. He called me to come in when he found a dead man under the table in a pool of blood with a bullet hole in his throat. We could find no sign of the soldier but did locate a shotgun and some empty shells on one of the beds.

After searching the house thoroughly we walked to the barn and behind the door we found the poor devil, scared to death and unarmed. He offered no resistance as we bundled him into the car and drove back to Lloydminster, where he was lodged in the local jail.

He was later judged insane at the trial and sent to the provincial asylum at Ponoka. Such tragedies affected us all. The family was widely known and part of a community that had gone through much together.

* * *

After I had become well established in the automobile business our local undertaker came to me and proposed that we share in the purchase of a motor hearse. He wanted me to look after the transportation side of his business and he would take care of everything else. This I agreed to do so we immediately ordered a Ford hearse and the day that it arrived by train and was unloaded there was great interest.

As time went on the undertaker decided to sell out and move to British Columbia. He proposed that I buy his share of the hearse and also the remainder of the undertaking business. I suggested that he sell to some other party and let me out of the whole business. This he tried to do but was unsuccessful so in the end I decided to buy him out. I arranged for the embalmer to stay on while I managed the business details. Needless to say my wife did not at all like my being an undertaker but I was forced into it in order to protect my original investment.

During my time in this business we had occasion to bury an old bachelor who had come out with the colony and died in our new hospital. We took the old fellow into our parlors and proceeded to get him ready for his long rest. We found that he wore a wig and we had difficulty in getting it to stay on his head. We didn’t have any glue handy so decided to tack it on with small nails. That worked well, we just brushed his hair over the tacks and he never knew anything about it!

Another case we handled was a man with a wooden leg. We hated to bury this leg with him so hung it up in the back parlor. A few days later his widow called to ask what we had done with Charlie’s leg. We produced it and off she went down the street carrying her old man’s leg under her arm.

Although this business paid very well I was never happy in it, so when I had the opportunity to sell out after two years I did so and was pleased to leave.

***

I have now come to the end of the story of my younger days in the Barr Colony. My wife’s health deteriorated in later years. She contracted asthma and suffered for many years. We decided to move to British Columbia thinking that the change in climate might help her. Unfortunately such high hopes did not materialize and after 48 years of happy married life she passed away. Our two children had already married. My daughter became a registered nurse. My son is a forest engineer.

I married again a few years ago and still live in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia, enjoying the autumn years of my life.

The End

[account courtesy of the Lloydminster Regional Archives]

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