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It was July, 1926. The place was Dover, in Denmark. That's where I was born - on a little old farm that had been owned, first by my grandfather and later by my parents. Now, it's moving time... It had been my father's dream for many years to move to America. Now was the time to make that move. Times were hard following the Great War and the family fortunes were at a low ebb. For some years, the talk had been about how and when to make the move. Papa and two of my brothers left for Canada in the previous March. Destination was Standard, in Alberta. My sister, Cathrine was already there. Our group consisted of Mama, my 3 year old sister Margrete, eldest sister Caroline, two brothers and myself. One aftenoon, we got on the train for Kopenhagen. My first train ride; also my first boat ride, crossing from the island of Fyen to Sjolland. Imagine my surprise to see the train on the ferry! Copenhagen was quite a city. The family was impressed by all the lights and colorful signs, the busy streets, the streetcars as well as the harbor with small and large ships from many different nations. The largest of these was the great steamer we were to board and that would take us to Canada. It was of the Scandinavian America Line and it was named after one of Denmark's great kings: Frederick VIII. We boarded the ship after a day in Copenhagen. There were many tearful farewells with friends and relatives. Most of them we would never see again. What I remember best were the paper streamers from ship to dockside as the great ship slowly edged away. We made one stopover before braving the North Sea, at Oslo, Norway, for a brief visit to take on passengers and cargo. The Atlantic crossing took 9 days at sea. For a few days the weather was calm, then the wind picked up and the waves grew large and rough. The 5th day, we three boys went to the dining salon for breakfast. Imagine our surprise at finding only one lonely male passenger and ourselves at the breakfast table. It seems everyone else was seasick. However, the weather calmed again and then, near Newfoundland we sighted a couple of ice bergs. Then the fog closed in. The ship slowed speed and the fog horn called out every few seconds and each time echoed back from the ice bergs. On the 9th day after leaving Denmark, the fog lifted and we finally saw the shore of Canada, our new country. It was at Halifax where we said goodbye to the nice crew of Frederick VIII. We had such a good time aboard ship. Canada, we found out, is an enormously large country. It took over four days of continuous train travel from Halifax to Bassano, Alberta where we arrived at 3am. Papa, Herman, Fred and our sister Cathrine were there to meet us and take us to Standard. For a time, the family lived in a small house near Standard. It was harvest time. The grown-ups were busy working. It was important to make money before the coming winter. Bill, my younger brother, and I started school as South Valley School. Not speaking much English, school was a little difficult at first. We started in Grade 1. However, it didn't take long before we could do our work in English. We learned to know many new friends. Some are lifelong friends to this day. Of course, we must now learn new games to play. Of these baseball was the game any boy must know. Obviously the newcomers did not know what the various terms meant. Charlie Christensen picked me for his team and explained the positions, "You play the field." I knew what field meant; it was obvious. There it was - a large field next to the schoolyard, across the fence. What I was supposed to do there did not occur to me till after. Charlie has reminded me of that hilarious incident each time we met. In the fall of 1927, we were still living in Standard; Bill and I going to school and all the rest of the family, except Mama and young Marguret, working at various farms and households in the area. Our English had improved immeasurably. Bill and I had advanced several grades in school. The next 6 months we were both again able to advance an extra grade before spring. Times had been good and the Gaede nest egg in the bank had grown. Papa was impatient to again own land and have a place of his own. The CPR had much land to sell and their agent at Standard was ready and willing to show and sell land. Indeed, he had a good car. Usually he would call Saturday night and make arrangements for a Sunday showing of this place or that. One day, Papa announced that he had seen the piece of land he liked. There was much discussion among Papa and the older brothers. Some were for the deal, and some were not. Finally it was decided, but not before some unheeded advice was heard from friends who knew the country. Papa decided that this was the opportunity he had waited for. Papers were signed and a downpayment was made on a section of land near Crawling Valley. That winter machinery for breaking land was purchased. A tractor and breaker plow were the main items. Other smaller items were purchased at auction sales. It was spring of 1928. I quit school in Grade 8. Except for going back to school in the fall and winter. That was my formal education. Breaking raw prairie land is hard work and here it was complicated by rocks. The soil was good sandy loam but, except for a few patches the land was liberally sprinkled with rock of all sizes. It was found that to make headway in breaking, the land must first be cleared of rocks. We used a team of horses and stone boat for hauling the stones. I, the 14 year-old became the rock picker. Gone were the school days. 1928 summer was rainy and wet. There were sloughs all over the place, each one a breeding place for mosquitoes that attacked us unmercifully day and night. We had a small canvas tent for shelter. That was our sleeping quarters, kitchen and dining room. Our means of transportation was an open Model 'T' Ford truck. It worked fine in dry weather, but no so reliable in the rain. We used to get our drinking water a ranch situated near a natural spring on the banks of Crawling Valley, 2 miles away. The water gushed out of the ground cold and crystal clear. The ranch was owned by CX Ranching Company and was run by an old cowboy named Otto Pahl, a bachelor of about 65 years. He was a cowboy right out of Zane Grey's storybook. He dressed for work in woolly leather chaps, wool shirt, complete with large bandana and black cowboy hat. He was a story teller of the old school and could entertain for hours, telling stories of his younger days, the old west and his part in it. We had acquired 6 horses, broncos right off the prairie. We managed to break the horses to harness, largely with the help of my brother, Herman. This was difficult and dangerous work. It's a wonder none of us were killed in the process. That first summer we managed to break about 200 acres of prairie. The sod was worked down with disc harrows pulled by our harness-broken horses. The new broken land was seeded to wheat in the spring of 1929. By this time a small house had been built. It was one room of shiplap construction and served as kitchen, dining room and bedroom for Mama and Papa and young Margarethe. The rest of us slept in the attic and a granary in the yard. A barn shelter for the horses was constructed of poles and straw. The walls all around consisted of two rows of pole fence about 4 feet apart with straw in between to make walls. The roof was long poles stretched across from wall centre beams and over to the other wall and straw over all to protect against the weather. The whole structure was perhaps 40 feet long by 30 feet wide. It was even fairly snug in winter. The poles we had cut from cottonwood groves in coulees near the Red Deer river. Our fences were built from the same cottonwood trees, which also furnished us with firewood. We got coal by mining into the hillside in very deep coulees where seams of coal were plainly visible. The seam we worked was about 4 feet thick and excellent quality. This was loaded into a stone boat with 2 foot sides and then hauled up the steep side of the coulee. This is where our half-broken wild broncos really tamed down and became gentle. By these means we could mine up to 2 tons of coal a day. The crop of 1929, our first was fair. Probably 15 to 20 bushels per acre which at that time wasn't too bad. But the hard luck came during the harvest and threshing season. This was the time of the great crash, Oct. 29, 1929. Grain prices had been reasonably good up to that time, about $1.80 per bushel. Now, overnight, wheat prices plunged to 18 cents per bushel, one tenth of what it had been! Our cash crop was now almost worthless. Papa had the foresight to buy a couple of breeding sows that were prolific. We used the grain to feed the pigs till they were the right weight. Papa was good at curing ham and bacon. This was bartered at the grocery store for flour and other staples in the house. So we had food on the table. The years that followed were difficult and hard on our family. Farm wages were low and jobs almost non-existent. 1930 and 1931 were the worst. Enough for basic needs. These were the drought years. In 1930 we were able to get a small crop, again not enough to sell. Enough for the animals and barter. 1931 on the farm was also the worst and last. This time the crop failure was complete. By now the drought was complete. There was no hope that anything could be gained by staying on the farm. May parents decided that to survive, we must leave the farm. The livestock was sold for miserly prices. A cow for $10, a heifer almost due to calve for $5, young pigs of 3 months $1.00 each. Equipment not paid for was left in the farmyard for the creditors to take back. All other possessions, stove, beds and furniture was loaded into 3 wagons. That sad little wagon train pulled out sometime in August, 1931, destination Calgary. Sometimes they camped out under the stars, other times they were put up overnight with some kind hearted farmers who themselves were not much better off. In Calgary, there were friends who could help. Eventually, they wee able to get assistance. They qualified for relief and rented a place where they could raise young Margaret and Bill. In the meantime, I had many jobs, by 1939, I had apprenticed as auto mechanic and subsisted on miserly wages until 1939. Then came the war. In 1940, I moved to Brooks where I worked at the Brooks Garage, owned by Fred Patriquin and Alex Omslie. This was a turning point in my life and things improved for me, both in jobs and working conditions. It was while at Brooks that I met my wife - at a dance on the first of July. A friend and I went to Gem for the first of July dance and it was at the hall where I saw this pretty young lady. I asked her to dance. We became acquainted and friends. She lived with her parents at Bassano. From then on, I was a frequent visitor at the Lewis house. In due time, I asked Dorothy to marry me. She agreed and we had the wedding on her birthday, October 19, 1940. It has been a delightful marriage with some ups an downs. World War II made a big difference in our lives. In 1942, the Air Force beckoned, and I joined up. For 3 years, I helped keep our airplanes flying. Dorothy moved back in with her parents who subsequently moved to Medicine Hat. After the war, I worked for the CPR as brakeman. In 1953, I leased a White Rose service station on 2nd Street N.E. and ran that till August 1965. After that, I started selling calendars and pens and many other advertising specialties. Here I had good success. I retired from selling in August 1980, when my son Gerald took over the business. We have two sons: Robert was born in 1942 and Gerald in 1953. Bob retired from the Air Force in 1994 as a pilot, in the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, after 34 years service. He and his wife Judith reside in Halifax, Nova Scotia, not far from their daughter and son - Alison and Jeff. In 1998, Alison married Glenn MacNeil. They have two sons: Brett Daniel and Evan Patrick. Jeff has two daughters: Mary-Beth and Ashley. Gerald and his wife Susan reside in Medicine Hat, Alberta. They have two daughters: Jennifer and Chelsea. Gerald is doing very well in the advertising specialties business. In fact, he helped his older brother get started in the business as well. |
