Just a Gal from Glidden: An odd place to trigger memories
BY KATE WINQUIST
kate@yoursouthwest.com
To say last week was a bit of a whirlwind might be an understatement. The first edition of "The Voice" actually came together pretty well considering. Thank you for all of your kind comments through Facebook, notes in the mail, and those who have stopped in and purchased a subscription. As I type this, we are up over 300 subscribers. I know I had said that it would take 500 for me to make a go of it, but I have the confidence that this region will come through!
As I had mentioned in last week's musing, I haven't lived in the area for 33 years. Still, I am amazed that my memory is quite good for a woman that is now into her 50's and going through "the change"! I had the pleasure of speaking with a couple of my old KCS classmates upon my arrival back to town. I was unaware when I made an appointment to meet with Donna McLay at Royal LePage, that I would be greeted with a cheery, "Hi Katie!" upon my entrance. There was a familiar face behind that smile. "Janet Hyatt," I exclaimed. Of course, Janet is no longer Hyatt; she married Cory Harris, who graduated with my older sister, Carrie. It was like turning back Father Time. A few days later, Wendy Nargang came through the door. Wendy and I go way back to the days when we played Little League softball together. Wendy's father, Wayne, was our coach. I found out that Wendy's Dad passed away in 2007, but her mother, June, is still living in Kindersley. Similarly, my Dad has been gone for ten years this November, while my mother lives in Medicine Hat.
PHOTOS
My Grandpa and Grandma Maclennan’s headstone at the Kindersley cemetery.
My uncle, Neil Maclennan passed away in 2016.
Tina Unrau used to babysit me in Glidden.
I made a quick trip back to Gull Lake last Saturday. I took the long way around, making stops at Eatonia and Leader, dropping off papers at Bredy's General Store and Dirk Family Pharmacy. After a good night's sleep in my own bed, I was on the road again early Sunday afternoon. I traded vehicles with my husband, not wanting to take our car on the grid roads. I was now behind the wheel of our 2003 Pontiac Montana, heading north through Hazlet, somehow ending up at Abbey and only 13 kms from where I would be turning to find the Lancer Ferry sign with a CLOSED on it. It can't be closed, I thought to myself. Someone must have forgotten to switch the sign to OPEN. It would be silly to drive all that way to find that it was closed, so I pulled over to check my cell phone. According to the Government of Saskatchewan website, the Lancer Ferry was open. Success! I would go across the ferry, take some pictures at Eston Regional Park, and drop some papers at Eston on my way back to Kindersley. Sounded like a heck of a plan!
As I made my way to the ferry crossing, a half-ton truck was parked ahead, and I could see the ferry on the other side in the distance. I looked over at the sign. CLOSED. I got out of the van and asked the gentleman if the sign was, in fact, correct. He assured me that the ferry was closed and would not be open for at least a couple of weeks. The fellow got back in his truck while I stared dumbfoundedly at the swift-flowing South Saskatchewan River. I made a quick video with my cell phone and posted it on my Facebook page, looking for sympathy. No sympathy to be found!
I knew that Lemsford Ferry was open, so I continued west down the Correction Line Road until I found familiar territory again. I had a brief chat with the ferryman who makes the trek from Leader, and he repeated what the last man had told me. Lancer Ferry wouldn't be open for at least another couple of weeks. Who knew?
By this time, it was getting too late to backtrack to Eston, so I continued north on highway 21 to Kindersley. I did make one final stop before heading into town.
I have a confession, and to some, it may be odd, but I love cemeteries. I don't even have to know anyone that is buried there. I can spend hours meandering amongst the gravestones, reading names, imagining what their lives would have been like. I feel a sense of calm - never gloomy or morose.
Both my maternal and paternal grandparents are buried at Kindersley cemetery. It had been quite a few years since I had stopped to say hello and pay my respects. As I wondered about, familiar names appeared before me. Names that I hadn't thought of in many years. My babysitter, Tina Unrau, from Glidden, who used to sing, "I'm a Little Teapot," complete with the actions of the pouring spout. Tina passed away on September 1, 2009, four years after her husband Irvin. Not that far away from the Unrau's plot was Adam and Elizabeth Hammel. "Bessie" Hammel was our postmistress in Glidden for many years. She passed away in 2013 at the age of 96.
I did find Grandpa and Grandma Drummond's headstone first. I cleared off some grass clippings and paused for a moment. There were no tears, just thoughts of two uncles and a grandfather I never had the chance to meet. I came across my Grandpa and Grandma Maclennan's headstone just a few minutes later, again, stopping to pause to say a quick hello. That's when I began to wonder where my Uncle Neil was?
Neil Maclennan was my Godfather. He gave the toast to the bride at my wedding. He passed away unexpectedly in January 2016. I never had the chance to tell him that I loved him despite his teasing. I found my uncle at the columbarium. As I did before, I paused, and that's when the tears came. I wish that Uncle Neil was still around. He would have been my biggest supporter and fan. I'm sure he would have grabbed a stack of newspapers and handed them out to everyone he met on the street when he and Aunt Louise would be out for their evening walk.
As I got back in my van to head into town, I felt good knowing that I had taken the time to brush up on some family history - not just my own family but also the families of so many that call this great area home.