Tuesday, June 2, 2015

RECONCILIATION

Be sure and read the excellent comments!

This peace and reconciliation report reminds me of my dad.  He left England as a young man after the war with a broken heart having to leave a German girlfriend.  His family did not approve.

He came to Canada with the hopes of being a Mountie but also with a very romantic view of the natives.  He was not accepted as a Mountie because of his eye-sight and it would be many years later that he would put his energies into creating a boy scout group that became centered around native traditions.

It was an older group and they would actually make a tepee and did bead and leather  work.  Everything they did was done by the traditions of the past even drumming and native dancing.  They also camped out and learned to read trails and be friendly with the animals.

I did not really appreciate all he was teaching them as I was a teen-ager at the time.  I would love to go back and talk to him about it all.  I have spent the day in memory lane trying to find a small book of pictures of his group and found lots of other interesting things but they are missing.

My dad did a great job with that group of boys and they all look back with pride and honor.

But sadly we now know how badly the Native children were treated. 

I should have been cleaning the house instead of getting down old boxes and pictures and going through it all.  It really was more fun although not successful.

Your dad had a better day today started by making breakfast and then going for a long bike ride in the forest.  He met another dog and stopped to pet him and Haiti knew right away he smelled funny.




7 comments:

Sandra said...

Did you get my phone message? Starting to think about what to Fathers Day and what dad would like to do.

It was a nice day yesterday, I am enjoying the coolness since it looks like we will have a hot weekend.

Sandra

nancy-Lou said...

That was an interesting story about your Dad and his volunteering his time to teach young native people. Sad for him to have to leave his girlfriend because of her nationality, but unfortunately there were such bitter feelings towards the German people at that time. Some English people who were of German heritage had to change their last names to an Anglicized name.

It is a cloudy, cool day so I plan on working in the studio on a new series of Victoria Beach and area paintings in acrylics. The gallery in Winnipeg wants some beach scenes.

Jewels is feeling much better. There is little coughing now, but she is tired and is short of breath when doing even the slightest exercise. At 13 one never knows what can happen...so we treasure each day. When she goes out, Max, our Schnoodle, always accompanies her. Even if he has just been outside. He is such a caring little guy.

I have a funny story to share, about the Aboriginal people and Carl's great Grandmother. Jessie Craigie was her name and her husband Magnus emigrated from Scotland the previous year to establish their homestead, near where we live. The year was 1872. Now people overseas in those times were told about the wild "Indian"s" who scalped the white people. Sooo Jessie arrived at their new home and one summer day went out to pick wild blueberries. She became confused and lost and wandered for two weeks looking for her home. Grandpa Craigie had many Aboriginal friends and some worked for him on the farm. He sent them out looking for Grandma. Well, Grandma saw them and was terrified of them....she hid. She walked and wore holes in her shoes, as the story goes! Finally she cared no longer, was too weak to go any farther and was taken by the Aboriginal men back home!
By the way, they had 10 children and only 2 survived to marry and have families. Quite a few died as young children, one or two died on the lake fishing. It is sad to see all the Craigie graves in the Balsam Bay Cemetery. Grandpa Craigie donated the land and built the church on a piece of their lakefront property. It stands today, proudly, but is not used anymore. I must paint it!

Have a super duper day!
Love, Nancy



beth bennett said...

Yes Sandra received your call after going to the library but you had left work already. Dad can phone you today or phone in the morning and he will be here.

My dad was different in that he wanted to learn from the native people and teach the young Canadian boys about their culture and their skills. Learning helps overcome fearful teachings which is still so needed in our world today.

Good story Nancy.

Enjoy your day too!

love beth

larry bennett said...

A very interesting story Nancy - very understandable - Many immigrants, including my Mother from Scotland thought the Natives were rather sub-human. Of course most of them they saw in the city of Saskatoon were probably refugees from the Church schools. What we saw was a lost sad population that suffered scorn and abuse from most of the local population. Living next to Victoria park we often saw very sick/drunk Natives - we never saw how they got to that state!

I often would argue with my parents when I was a teenager that if we were brought up in the same circumstances as they were (I didnt realize how bad it was) we would be no better. I never won that argument.

An interesting part of this story is that our little street (600 block Ave Ave G south) as time went on became a rather rundown area of the city, and many homes became rentals, and were used by the city as low-income rentals.

After I moved away, more and more poor Native families moved on our one block street. Slowly my mother began to see them as more or less normal poor people, especially the small children. She never really got close to them, but I could see a real attitude change in her before she died.

When I was about twelve or thirteen my dad And I went out one November day hunting deer near the Dundern Army camp. Long story short - somehow I got separated from my Father and was wandering around lost with my 30-30 carbine. It was snowing very lightly and getting dark. The terrain in this area is a series of small hills and ravines, I went along a ravine when suddenly I stopped as I realized I was in the middle of a small Native village of Tee - pees.It was cold,it was almost dark, I was wearing moccasins and made no sound - yet as I remember it, there were many people looking out the flaps of their tents.What I remember the most is that there were many very small children, staring with wide eyes at this strange being. Did they no I was coming? Surely they would not normally be standing there letting the wind chill there home.
I was frightened, confused, and didnt know what to do so I kept walking between the tents for about a hundred yards and was just leaving the village when I heard a rifle shot, and looked ahead to see my dad standing in the gloom above a small hill only a few yards away. Dad had not seen the village, and wasnt so sure I had either, but just said it was very sad that the Natives lived this way. We were both lost and it took us about an hour to find car but all was well in the end.
This is the first time I have written about this little adventure, but I have thought about it often - I can remember walking into that little village as clear in my mind as seeing a movie. Over the years I have often wondered what happened to these people.Recently I got on Google earth and found what i believe to be this small Reserve. I would appear it now is a very well to do Band, large Golf Course etc etc. The minor highway out of Saskatoon it appears has been named after one of the Band's Chiefs. Our Son Rick has had occasion recently to visit this reserve as an adviser on Native tax regulations.
Small world.

larry bennett said...

I believe this is the little village I stumbled into one cool evening in 1947/8

Whitecap first nation - Chief Whitecap highway etc

http://www.whitecapdakota.com/home/?no_cache=1

Sandra said...

Hmm, I think I need to prepare my remarks the night before to keep up with all the great story telling. I suppose I also have to have interesting things in my life to write stories about, not much I can do about that.

nancy-Lou said...

Wow, I checked out your link, Larry and the Reserve has really done well. They are worth over a $100 million. It just goes to show what can be done! Good for them...that is along way from a teepee village.

I really enjoyed your story and was glad it had a good outcome. It would be pretty darned scary for a youth your age!

Things were so different in those days, weren't they? The reserve that is located about 15 miles away used to be called Fort Alexander it is now called Sagkeeng.
the native people came and camped here at VB during the summers to harvest the bountiful berries we have here and fish and hunt.
They had teepees and Carl as a youth used to stay with Leo LaForte and their family in their teepee. They told stories around the fire and cooked ducks in mud in the fire. He was just relating this to me now. The native people were good friends to the folks living here...at the time there were about 10 mink ranches and they worked on them. Sometimes living in a bedroom made in the garage for them. It was different times that is for sure.

Thanks for sharing your story Larry.I read it to Carl and he really enjoyed it too.

Love to you both,
Nancy