Category Archives: Seismic Life – The Womens’ View

The Lasting Effect of Experience

“In this beloved residence the opportunity to make friends is there for the taking.”

Does that look familiar?  Probably.  Those are the words with which I started my last essay, but contrary opinions were expressed by some of my friends who found their entry to residential living difficult.  Most of us are here of our own accord.  Most of us have gone through the wrenching business of closing down a home, and deciding what to take and what to discard.  Several, like me, have moved from one city to another.  Despite our similarities, our reactions to the move are different.  Why?   Continue reading

14 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View, This & That

On the Road Again

Word arrived yesterday: we are moving again.  It is early spring and only a skiff of snow remains.  There was lots in Grande Prairie in October when Ralph had his first birthday.  Then shortly after that we moved here to McLennan.

This is a very interesting town.  It is a major railway maintenance centre.  The population is close to a fifty/fifty split between French and “Anglos” (the latter covering anyone NOT French).  Many of the French people work in the railway shops, or in one way or another for the Catholic Church.  A block away from our house is an imposing, very large cathedral.  Close to it are clustered several buildings, a Catholic Separate School, and residences for students, teachers, priests, and nuns.

The Anglos make up the merchants, professionals, owners of small businesses and municipal workers.  Sometimes it seems to me like two separate towns living very close to one another.  The seismic crew and their families are welcomed warmly by both factions.  We found our little old rental house in an area mainly French, not surprising as we are so close to the cathedral and the schools.  However it is convenient for us, too: our tiny United Church is two blocks away.  Sometimes the bells ringing in the cathedral almost down out our singing, but we persist.  Thank heavens for the Mission and Service part of the national government  of our church.  Its subsidy keeps our small church going.   Continue reading

4 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

The Long Road Home

Mid-winter, January 1949, and we are on the road.  Business matters had taken Sheldon to Edmonton and we took the opportunity to visit friends.  Now the three of us—Sheldon, our one-year-old son Ralph, and I–are heading home.

This is not the ideal time for travelling.  The roads are kept open but are not in great shape.  Traffic is light; service places scarce.  Travel is slow, as the roads can be icy.  Even so we usually made it easily in one day to our home in McLennan, a little town north and west of Edmonton, and south of Peace River.

We started early this morning in order to finish the trip in daylight.  The words “cold and crisp and even” come to my mind to describe the weather.  Sunny and calm and cold.   Ahead we see a truck about to pull onto our road.  It is large, filled to the brim with debris from a building site.  No tarpaulin covers the load, and bits and pieces fly off as it goes.  Having no safe opportunity to pass, Sheldon drops back a bit and follows.  Suddenly the truck hits some ice and shimmies around.  A sudden gust of windy blows a big plank off the load directly in front of us.     Continue reading

4 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

Life is What Happens

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

John Lennon, Beautiful Boy 

Installment 3

Mother G. and I stand there, almost holding our breath, watching Sheldon as he reads the letter.  The expression on his face quickly changes from seriousness to a delighted grin.

“Just listen to this,” he shouts and reads aloud, “Gerry has written us and said you are worried about the length of time your mononucleosis is keeping you from work.  Sheldon, we hired you for several reasons.  Your education and attitude were two, and the record of your summer work on our seismic crews were two more.  We consider that you are one of our permanent employees, on temporary sick leave.  Continue the recovery and we will welcome you back when you are able.”

“What do you think of that?” Sheldon asks.  Mother G. and I, of course, are crying and laughing at the same time.    Continue reading

12 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

Life is What Happens

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

John Lennon, Beautiful Boy 

Installment 2

“Mr. Gibson, I have your results.  You have an illness long recognized, but not understood.  Very recently, tests have been developed that enable us to diagnosis and help this disease to run its course safely.  It is called Acute Infectious Mononucleosis.  Usually it is young, healthy men who contract mononucleosis – say, in universities or the military.  You can expect complete recovery, eventually.”

“How long, Dr. Freeman?” asks Sheldon.

“If you follow my instructions, recovery should take two or three months.”

“Will Marjorie get it?”

“Possibly, but not for sure.  Her immune system may be stronger.”     Continue reading

10 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

Life is What Happens

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”
John Lennon, Beautiful Boy

July 10th, 1945 – Davidson, Saskatchewan.   I am busy in our little store-home.  We’re so proud of our funny little house.  We moved in 43 days ago on May 29th, a newlywed couple.  Sheldon leaves early to join the seismic crew at their meeting place.  The crew then drives out to where they are working.  He loves his job as assistant in the instrument truck.  Funny thing, he didn’t eat much breakfast, said he wasn’t hungry.  Oh well, I’ll have a big supper ready when he gets home.

Time surely flies by.  It is mid-morning already.  I hear a truck stop outside, and go to the door to look out.  It’s Gerry, the Party Chief.  He is helping Sheldon out.   Continue reading

20 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

Train Whistles and Nightmares

January 1951, Shoal Lake, Manitoba, and a perfectly normal working day.  The crew had left for their work in the country.  Sheldon, now party chief, was in his office, located in a trailer near by. Everything was “near by”.  The crew house trailers and the crew equipment were all parked in the town’s vacant fair grounds.  I was in our trailer with Ralph, just over three, and his sister Lorna who was 11 months old.  The washing was frozen stiff on an outside line, and I was bringing in a few pieces at a time to dry over our heater.  Suddenly Sheldon was at the door, knocking the snow off his boots.  He was greeted with excited squeals from the kids, who did not often see Daddy mid-morning.  He laughed and scooped them up, looking over their heads, and said, “I got a call from head office.”  My heart started to race as I asked, “And what did they want?”  “I’ve been promoted and have to report to the Divisional Office in Peace River as soon as possible.”

So five and a half years after we joined the seismic crews as a couple of newlyweds, another big change was underway.  In the middle of a Prairie winter we found ourselves in Swift Current, Saskatchewan, glad to be off the snowy roads and in a warm hotel.  The trip from Shoal Lake had been taxing.  The provincial roads were not well graded or maintained.  We cheered when we finally made it to the TransCanada Highway.  This should be better!  Well, it was but only marginally. It was not graded up high as roads are today.  It wandered across the prairies following the contours of land, gravelled not paved.    Continue reading

20 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

Between the Blacksmith’s Shop and the Beer Parlour

Surprises and Challenges

It was early morning as I walked down the street from the hotel, accompanied by the clerk carrying our two suitcases.  As we approached our house I could hear the ring of the blacksmith’s anvil as it hit hot steel.  The shop was just a half-block beyond our house, and the smell of the hot coals in the blacksmith’s fire was pungent and unmistakeable.  I unlocked the front door.  The clerk stepped in, took a curious look around, and departed.  His departure marked the end of our nights sleeping above the hotel’s beer parlour.

Shutting the door behind him, I leaned against it and took a deep breath.  It was a mess!  Where should I begin?  I dithered a moment and then started with the obvious.  Grabbing up broom and dustpan (some of yesterday’s purchases), I started to sweep up anything that could be swept and tossed it out the back door into the alley.  The next tasks followed quickly: locating the gallon can of coal oil and filling the tank on the stove; pumping some water into a basin to wash up some dirty spots on the floor.  My spirits started to rise as I made some progress.  My thoughts flipped back to the Southern Ladies in the hotel in Saskatoon and I started to laugh.  My guess was that they might not even know how to get water from a pump!  Being a farm girl had some advantages.   Continue reading

7 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

Our First Home

Sheldon and I were cuddled up together in our hotel bed, desperately tired and unable to sleep.  Our second floor room was right over the doors to the local beer parlour.  People had been coming and going, laughing and shouting to one another all evening.  “It should be quiet soon,” said Sheldon.  “They close at midnight on week days, and this is Monday.”  He gave me a hug.  “Tomorrow is the 29th, Marjorie, your birthday, and we will be moving into our first home!”  We were excited and thrilled.  The street noise was fading – and we fell asleep almost mid-sentence.  We were young—both 23—strong and healthy, but we had a right to be exhausted.  The last two weeks could be called momentous, life changing, or just plain hectic!

It was May 1945.  On Wednesday the 16th I had sat with my parents and Sheldon’s mother through the convocation service for Sheldon and the other graduates.  Later with our friends, we celebrated far into the night.  The next morning both families were heading back to Calgary, for on Saturday the 19th we were to be married.  Tight planning you say – and so it was.  We had tried for earlier, a year earlier in fact, but had yielded to our respective parents’ strong objections to our launching into marriage before Sheldon graduated.  Our cooperation was based on their agreement to a wedding right after his graduation.  Little did we or our parents know that we would end up having 11 days in which to graduate, get married, squeeze in a few days in Banff and a few in Lethbridge with his mother and her friends, and get to Saskatoon on May 26th to report for work with one of Imperial Oil’s seismic crews.    Continue reading

12 Comments

Filed under Seismic Life - The Womens' View

A Little Town on the Western Prairies

I will soon be posting some stories regarding life in the 1940s on a seismic crew, from a woman’s point of view.  The five years Sheldon and I spent roaming around Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba with the oil crews were years never to be forgotten.  Exciting, enjoyable, challenging, funny and scary – all terms applied at one time or another.  At the age of 23 we entered the field life of western oil exploration, young and inexperienced and “rar’n to go”.  It was, as the saying goes, to be a steep learning curve.  We left the field for the office five years later, a family of four.  In those five years we learned a great deal, both about ourselves and about life skills in general.  Along the way we built deep and enduring friendships.  The years have now taken Sheldon and many of our peers, but some 60 years later I am lucky enough to have some of the old friends from those crew days still with me.

So what has this to do with a Western prairie town?  You will soon see.  The events in some of my following postings will be set in surroundings and times completely unfamiliar to many of you.  Not wanting to write a history on the social, economic and political times of the 1940s (nor capable of doing so!), I decided instead to introduce you to Standard – a real and quite typical prairie town.  Try to hold the picture of this town in your mind.  When we meet Davidson, Saskatchewan, as seen in May of 1945, remember what you have garnered about Standard’s streets, sidewalks, homes, businesses and community.

Standard is located on the rolling prairies some 50 miles beyond the east edge of Calgary.  About 100 years ago conditions were ripe for bringing about its birth.  A new farming area was being opened up by the CPR.  Danish farmers from Denmark and the United States were looking for land.  A railway ran through the area and there was almost daily service to Calgary.  There was a small coal mine just south of town.  The CPR opened a station, using the kind of building found on their lines all over the West.  This consisted of a two-storey building which had the first floor opening out on the platform by the tracks.  This floor consisted of a large freight room, the station agent’s office, the ticket booth, and a passenger waiting room.  Stairs led to the second floor which housed the station agent and his family.   Continue reading

14 Comments

Filed under Prairie Childhood, Seismic Life - The Womens' View