In Memory of my Dad,
Ray.
One of the Heroes of the Country
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| Probably taken about 55 years ago |
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| Taken about 6 years ago |
He had been bed-ridden for over a year, he seemed to be fading away a little at a time.
Up until a few weeks ago he could at least participate in a short conversation, at the end he could hardly murmur.
Fortunately it was very peaceful, he had his hands crossed on his chest, and just went to sleep.
His father came into Canada from Nebraska. Time and date totally unknown, I suspect he merely walked into Manitoba and kept going until he found a place he liked. In this case Petersfield. His Mom I know virtually nothing about, except that she passed away shortly after he was born. His Dad passed away about 40 years ago.
Dad's family, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins were all farmers in the Petersfield/Selkirk area. Up until last year, there had been someone, from the family, living on the "Home" farm for over 100 years. All of Dad's contemporaries are now deceased. Even out here, on the coast, he has out-lived three entire sets of friends.
Dad was born shortly after WW1, he grew up in the "dust bowl" times, the Depression times, and the war times. He did not have an easy life. There was not much to go around, his Dad had to work like a mad man just to keep a roof over their heads. He had very little supervision in his early years. There was lots of pressure on his Dad to break up the family. His Dad was determined that they stay together. There was no support from the Government. Canada did not have all the social programs that we take for granted now.
He never finished school, left after grade 7. There were times when he would wander off for days at a time, no one bothered to go looking for him. He spent days poking around the Winnipeg lake marshes looking for food, fishing, minor trapping, gathering, etc. The only "motherly" presence was from an Aunt. He began working when he was around 15. Times were tough for everyone then, not just for kids. He eventually landed a job at the Manitoba Rolling Mill, doing maintenance, it was a steel plant.
He, along with nearly every other able young man on his street, joined up immediately when WW2 started. He ended up in the Navy. Had never seen an ocean. He was on the Corvettes for the entire war. He did the North Atlantic runs, went through the Panama Canal, west coast of BC up to Alaska, sea trials in the Bahamas, de-mobbed in Newfoundland.
Went back to Selkirk after the war and didn't stay. He had met my Mom while commissioning a ship at the Burrard Shipyards at the foot of Lonsdale. Actually he met my Grandfather and Grandmother before he met my Mom.
He took whatever work he could after the war. After all, there were lots of people out of work. The world had changed over those war years and our society was embarking on an era that had not been experienced before.
He eschewed debt, never had a mortgage, even at 65 did not know how to use a credit card, or write a cheque. He read every word in the newspaper, front to back. He was never afraid to tackle something, and built as much as he could for himself. I remember him saying: "This year when we go camping we are going to have a trailer." That weekend we went to the wreckers and began searching for parts. We had a trailer for camping. Everything built by his own hands. Frame, shackles, axle, cabin, interior, lights. All out of his head, no plans, no drawings. Awesome!!
Anyway, enough for now. He was a dynamic man that enjoyed hard work, enjoyed doing what others couldn't, loved the outdoors, loved duck hunting, loved fishing, a good campfire, a good steak or a good hot dog.
I will miss having him around.
