EPISODE 384 EXPERIENCES WITH INDIGENOUS PEOPLE…”OK, BOYS, PICK YOU UP IN SAULT STE. MARIE.”
alan skeoch
July 2021
This story is too scattered…I know that. Originally much longer but I cut
a lot. Included is a small indigenous story…an evening in a beer bar with
our First Nations employees. The point of the story. That evening was Warm and friendly…
as were most of my evenings with First Nations people in tiny communities across North
America.
Please excuse the scattered story line. No time to cut even more. If you
need a theme then consider the story a bit of Canadiana. This was a
big year for Marjorie and me…marriage. The money I earned in the bush
was invested in our honeymoon. Three months labour spent in four days.
AFERNOON SUN, LAKE SUPERIOR…by Lawren Harris
PIC ISLAND, LAWREN HARRIS…GROUP OF SEVEN
Captures the hardness of some landscapes on Lake Superior…near Marathon
This is the company town of Marathon looking out on to Lake Superior…strikingly
close to the paintings of Lawren Harris (i.e. Pic Island…only a few miles from
the town). The town smelled bad…air saturated with H2S…hydrogen sulphide
from the paper (cardboard) mill. We set up camp in a gravel pit east of town.
Summer of 1963 is hard to forget. We were married that year and, believe it or not,
Marjorie was not sure I would make it to the wedding. Dr. Paterson had sent me with
a crew to check out the mineralization around Marathon, Ontario. That’s a long way
from Toronto. I left all marriage arrangements to Marjorie.
To ensure my return for the August 24 wedding, Marjorie, her guardian Phyllis Morgan and my
mother decided to come to our bush camp and drive me back to Toronto.
Everyone was in good
spirits including the fellows in our crew.
But there was one problem. Our linecutting crew was First Nations people from Heron Bay, a reserve
near Marathon. It was getting late in August and the boys had planned a trip to Sault Ste Marie…a drinking
session in the bar at the Albert Hotel. They had a ride down to the SAullt but no ride back to our camp.
“Don’t worry, boys, I’ll drive down and pick you up;”
There were two hitches in the plan.
HITCH #1: The distance between Marathon and Sault Ste. Marie is 255 miles (411 km)….nearly
a five hour drive. A ten hour Drive there and back. Not a big deal to residents of Northern Ontario.
So away they went for the week-end . Most of the time would be spent drinking beer and subsequent revelry.
HITCH #2: Marjorie, aunt Phyllis and my mom were staying at the Albert Hotel the same evening.
I was not too sure how they would react to the ‘boys’ in the beverage room. Now, in retrospect, I should
have introduced them. Stuffy of me not to do that.
Actually the whole experience was great. I loved the lonely drive down to the Salt…even stopped twice
for a swim. Did so when my eyes began to wander. One swim at Batchawana Bay.
Meeting the ‘boys’ with all their friends was a great experience. This was their turf…their friends…their week-end…
and they were being picked up by their boss. The term boss is not nice. I wondered how it would work. No need. The moment I arrived
in the bar room there was a great whoop and the boys hustled me to a seat and bought me a couple of
draughts. The glasses of beer were tiny in the 1960;’s. We socialized then the boys piled in the truck
and we headed back to Marathon…255 miles North west on Highway #17. Arrived late at night. Dropped
the boys of at Heron Bay then hit the sack in our tent camp.
Late the next afternoon the women arrived. They loved the campsite and the Toronto crew.
I think would hey have loved our Heron Bay crew, Ojibwa First Nations, but they never met. My error.
HITCH #3 We got married right on time. The Marathon gang sent us a card table…good one, lasted 40 years.
The beach near Marathon, Ontario…with worn mountains in the distance. The same mountains Lawren Harris saw and painted.