Historically Speaking

A few years ago, I was lucky enough to attend a session given by the Prince Albert Historical Society (fondly referred to as the hysterical society by some).  I was very impressed to learn that there was once a sawmill located in P.A. on the south bank of the Saskatchewan River, somewhere near the currently existing bridge....roughly between 2nd and Central Avenues.  We saw the pictures and close by is a huge, old, black train bridge.  Regularly, the middle section of the train bridge would be swung aside to open the way for steam ships to pass through.  I guess the stacks were too tall otherwise. A common occurence in those days was for a passenger/freight steam ship to travel regularly to Saskatoon and back. Wouldn't that be fabulous today?  Imagine the scenery, the birds, the wild life...and perhaps the fishing along the way..but not sure that was allowed because the fishing lines would be nothing if not tangled.  I would love to find out more about those trips.  Were they served  meals?  Were they entertained?  Did they play cards or listen to someone play an instrument such as harmonica, accordion or fiddle?  Was there room to dance?  I'm quite sure the trip would take all day and the patrons might have been allowed to stay overnight in Saskatoon...maybe at the Bessborough Hotel or with friends or relatives.  Imagine the romance?  If anybody knows more, it would be great to hear about it.  Unfortunately, the trips had to stop eventually  because the water levels dropped too low given the need for more water and water control via damming in southern Saskatchewan. 

Being on the river puts you at one with nature like you can't even imagine.  My brother Lanny took my family and I for a boat ride up the river and under the bridge at Gronlid one summer.  It was nothing less than amazing.  First off, the underside of the bridge was absolutely covered with mudded bird's nests and somebody had hung large, fake owls in their midst to try to keep them away.  It didn't really work from what I could gather.  Next were hoards of pelicans on a little island.  I had never seen such a thing up close, but they were something to see...huge, all white, and with such big bills.  They weren't a bit afraid of us either.  The thing that sticks in my mind was a surprizing experience when we entered a little inlet just to take a look.  In the utterly, sheer quiet, a beaver suddently slapped his tail on the water and scared about a hundred blackbirds into flight.  They flew right at us and made a horrible racket.  We were ALL startled and I for one screamed, but I'm sure I wasn't the only one.. my kids and neice were just little kids and were more likely on the verge of crying. We didn't waste any time getting out of there, because the whole experience was so ethereal, it was almost creepy.

I loved learning about the history of Prince Albert when I lived there.  I believe it was the Horticultural Society that did walking tours in some of the old stately neighbourhoods. They talked of the history of the homes as we walked along streets of the West Hill area.  I was interested to hear about the different kinds of brick.  There's the red kind and there's the kind that looks more salmon-coloured.  Some of the brick was manufactured in P.A., (I think the salmon one), but some (I think the red stuff) was shipped all the way from eastern Canada.  Given that transportation was so much slower and different than it is today, that in itself was amazing to me.  The homes of my maternal great grandparents were places that were empty by the time I can remember.  The Scott home was three stories and red brick, built on their farm north of Melfort, SK.   The Gunderson home was wood.  Since my great grandfather, Christian Gunderson owned a sawmill at Crooked River, SK., he built the house with the wood from the sawmill.  He rode back and forth by horse and that to me is astounding in itself because that trip one way by car today is about 3/4 of an hour.  In this day and age, we have no idea how fast things would appear to those pioneers, if they were to be here to look around. 

One historical old house in P.A. had become a tea house and a friend and I went there for high tea one afternoon. Can't remember now if it was Marlene, Marina, Bonnie or somebody else...This will happen to you too ya know! The room we sat in was all windows and the owner told us how back in the day that horses from the house next door with the barn, would come to that window and put their noses up against it!  They would fog up the window with their snorts and lick the glass.  Guess they wanted some social life too., but the window cleaning became a full-time job.  We were enjoying tea, scones, berries and clotted cream that day, a British tradition that I understand the Queen herself might have engaged in.  At least I imagine she did.  Delicious!  I was always a fan of the Royals since I was a little girl.  Indeed, in my home as a little girl, we used to clean house and tidy up, just in case the Queen were to drop by.  I really believed she might.  After all, I was told that John Diefenbaker would frequent my great grandmother's home for a meal in their day.  Carrie Gunderson was a hotel cook in her younger years and he really did stop there, out on the farm north of Melfort, for a meal during his travels.  In fact, he gave my grandpa, Cliff Gunderson, a ride into P.A. one time in his car, some kind of  Model T or whatever. 

One big old apartment building burned to the ground when I lived in P.A.  People mourned not only the loss of the old building, but the beautiful dance floor that had once existed on the top floor.  It was the first time I had ever heard of a horse hair dance floor.  They put horse hair under the floor to cushion it.  How ingenious!  There aren't very many of them left today, but I heard a rumour that one still exists at the big dance hall out at Watrous.  They still have dances there every Saturday night.  I know somebody who used to play for their dances, (Cheryl).  We were taught in school that all parts of a horse was used when it passed away...in fact, the glue we used in our glue bottles was actually made from horses.  I tried not to think of that when we had to glue something...
When I lived in P.A., there was, and I believe still is, a shop on River Street that held all sorts of aboriginal paraphernelia.  I bought my first pair of beaded moccasins there and really have not wanted any other kind of slippers since.  They are plain, not the fur-lined kind and are cool if you are hot and warm if you are cold.  For anybody who has never tried them, they are the absolute best.  That shop always reminded me of a shop in Hudson Bay when we first moved there in the 1960's called Cree Crafts. It was located at the north end of the main drag, right next to the local newspaper, The Post Review. I think I bought the one and only pair of mukluks I have ever owned from them, but maybe my memory is failing and maybe I actually bought them from D'Aoust's or Prokop's -- both dry good stores.  You're missing out if you've never owned a pair of mukluks. High topped, fur-lined, beautiful beading and everybody was envious!

The court house in P.A. was not far from where I lived and consequently, I would often go by it if I was out for a stroll with my dog, or walking downtown.  I lived in the East Hill in those days and that neighbourhood has truly some spectacular historical old places too.  After reading some the "Ghost Stories of Saskatchewan" books, I came to realize that the court house is likely haunted.  Indeed, I came to learn that yikes - hangings had really occurred there at one time.  Whippings too apparently..yeeh.  Yes, they used to whip the bad guys.  That makes me cringe.  I am told the whip cut the skin on the back, so to be merciful? (well maybe), they applied salt to the wounds to help stop the infection.  Wouldn't that be nothing less than excruciating?  Geez!  Inhumane, but what of the numbers of criminals back then?  Did it deter them enough so they weren't repeat offenders?  Many of today's criminals are addicts and/or suffering from mental illness, so somehow I am skeptical that whipping would really help.  Wouldn't it be interesting to compare the stats from those days with those of today's?
In the early 1970's I was studying at university.  I think it was right around the time that Canada was abolishing capital punishment, but please don't quote me on that.  I just remember this being one of the topics of conversation at university and of course, I had to have these discussions at home with my family.  I remember the talk about whether people should die if they killed someone and I felt horrific empathy for the executioner.  I can remember saying, "how would you like to be the guy who has to perform the execution...electrocute somebody...flick the switch?"   I learned this week that indeed a man from my home town had been the "whipper" ...the one to "man the whip" for a time at the P.A. courthouse.  He donned a black hood to keep his identity hidden and did his much hated deed.  The story goes that he couldn't stand it and eventually left to start a small business of his own where he was able to be a success.   For those of you who hate your job, remember, it could always be worse...and I'm not kidding.

I took a history class at university and it was my very favorite one....for example, did you know that Hitler was a messenger in World War I?  But that's another story.  :-)