Personal Story – Page 5 – A Deck of Ancestors

52W Mark III – Week 29: Automobiles

I don’t know if my father acquired it before or after I was born, but for us the first family car was a 1966 Oldsmobile Cutlass. Or, as my father called it, The Hutless Cutlass.

Me in front of the Hutless Cutlass a month before my fifth birthday, in Creighton, Saskatchewan. My father often took me fishing. When we lived in Creighton, we usually went fishing at the lakes and rivers right over the border in Manitoba. Here I’m holding a jackfish (northern pike), but what I really preferred to catch were pickerel (walleye).

My father bought it when we were living in Lethbridge, Alberta. The Hutless Cutlass travelled all over western Canada, both as we moved around the country and for many family road trips. With my youngest sister, it meant that there were six people packed into that car (dad sold it before my youngest brother was born). Invariably, whether we were in Creighton, Saskatchewan (on the border with Manitoba, next to Flin Flon) or Duncan, British Columbia, the road trip was to Lethbridge to visit family. Since my dad loves exploring, that car has probably driven over nearly every primary, secondary, and tertiary highway from the Pacific to Manitoba.

The Hutless Cutlass was old school – no power steering, no power brakes, no air conditioning. I remember it had a choke. From time to time, while checking under the hood, he’d have me open or close the choke, or rev the engine.

At the A&W Drive In in Terrace, British Columbia, with my sister and Mrs. Beasley.

One night, when I was about 13, my dad and I went to a hockey game in the small prairie town where we were living at the time. We got home pretty late. We didn’t pull into the driveway. Instead, we parked in front of the house, with the engine running. If memory serves, we were listening to the sports highlights on the radio. Somehow the conversation turned to me telling my dad what I knew about operating a car. I then bragged that I probably could even drive it. Dad doesn’t let it slide; rather, he says show me. So we switch seats and I drove very slowly and tentatively down our empty street at the edge of town.

Sometime when I was 13 or 14, my father traded the Hutless Cutlass in for an Oldsmobile Delta 88. It was a real land yacht, and the car in which I learned to drive and took my driving test. (I am always quick to point out I took my driving test during a blizzard – how Canadian!) When I was in grade eight or nine, sometime after my dad traded it in, I saw our old Hutless Cutlass parked downtown. Of course, I had to check it out. The interior had been completely redone in some sort of heavy metal decor. I particularly remember that the steering wheel had been replaced with a metal chain with the links welded together so that it formed a circle. That poor car.

52W Mark III – Week 28: Trains

My grandfather, Leo Burgess (1920 – 1995), worked for the Canadian Pacific Railway for 32 years. I’ve written about various aspects of his time with the railway, such as the fact he was a proud member of his union and his brushes with Hollywood, including meeting his movie idol Glenn Ford.

*Some of the items my grandfather used as a conductor, which are now in my possession*

Leo was based out of Lethbridge, Alberta. He started as a brakeman and worked through the ranks, later becoming a yard manager. Early on, because of winter layoffs, he chose to work for the CPR in Cranbrook because there was more work there during the winter to provide a steady income. In 1972 he became a conductor, performing that role until his retirement in 1982.

One of my earliest memories was travelling on the train from Medicine Hat to Lethbridge. I’m sure my mother would correct me if I’m wrong, but in that memory I am sure my grandfather was travelling with us.

My grandfather often brought me to the train station in Lethbridge when I was little. Of course, the highlight was always getting to go on to the caboose. Of course, I’m showing my age in being able to recall a caboose as an everyday working part of a train and not just as a museum piece.

One of my favourite photos, showing me with my grandfather. If there’s any doubt, he’s the one on the left.

The station building still exists and has been designated with heritage status. In the 1980s, the railyard was relocated a few kilometers west of the city and the tracks were removed from central Lethbridge. In 1987, the station building was converted into the Lethbridge Community Health Centre and it still serves in that capacity.

The former train station in Lethbridge is now the Community Health Centre. This caboose remains preserved beside the former station building. I wonder if my grandfather ever worked on this specific railcar. Heck, I wonder if this is one of the cabooses that he took me on!

Of course, I would be remiss if I did not repeat the fact that working on the train crew for Superman: The Movie was one of the highlights of his time with the CPR. During the eulogy at my grandfather’s memorial service, one of his friends told an anecdote that suggests my grandfather felt that he had gotten familiar with the cast and crew. The scene took six days to shoot. Apparently during a break in filming, Ford was talking to a group of railway workers when my grandfather sauntering up, put his arm around the actor, and said, “How’s it going, Glenn?”

My grandfather was working in the engine during the filming of this scene. My parents live about a 30 minute drive from where this was filmed. The tracks are gone, but the memories live on.

My grandfather is the man wearing a cap standing on the right side of the photo.

52W Mark III – Week 25: Storyteller

I’ve wracked my mind, and I cannot think of who the storytellers in our family might be. However, I have no problem identifying the storykeepers. They might not spin yarns or be captivating narrators, but they are always willing to share the family lore if asked. I wouldn’t call my mother a good storyteller, but I can absolutely count on her to provide the answers to questions I might have about even the most obscure bits of familial trivia.

I’ve been keeping the family history since I was in elementary school!

While I don’t consider myself a storyteller, I definitely count myself amongst the family storykeepers. I think by definition, genealogists are storykeepers. It’s not often that I’m asked, but I’m more than happy to share the stories whenever someone in the family should ask.

^{Pages from a family history photo album I made.}

I will concede, however, that maybe I have become a storyteller. This blog is now two-and-a-half years old. This is my third time participating in Amy Johnson Crow‘s 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks and my 129th post as part of the challenge. I’ve even turned my first year’s set of posts into a print book and have nearly completed turning the second year’s worth into a digital book.

I guess that makes me a storyteller!

52W Mark III – Week 20: Taking Care of Business

When I was a kid, we moved around a lot. People often asked my if my dad was in the military. No, he was a Woolworths manager.

My father entered the Woolworth manager training program right out of high school. Back in the day, the program involved a lot of moving around. Later, promotions almost always meant a transfer. He was with the company for 28 years, leaving the company about six months after Wal-Mart bought it out in Canada. That’s a story for another time.

My sister and me at the Woolworths in Regina

My dad began his career with Woolworth’s in Lethbridge, Alberta as a management trainee. He once told me that his very first assignment on his first day was to unload a shipment of bras, and the female staff stood there giving him a hard time. Next, my dad trained in the Regina, Saskatchewan and Medicine Hat, Alberta stores, where he was an assistant manager.

Dad’s first store as manager was in Flin Flon, Manitoba. After Flin Flon, dad was transferred to Terrace, B.C., and shortly afterward to Duncan, B.C., where he opened a new store there as the Associate Manager.

Grand Opening of the Woolworths in Duncan. My dad is second from the right.

At one point, the Canadian head office in Toronto transferred dad to Kirkland Lake, Ontario. However, when the international head office learned about the transfer, they cancelled it. They thought it was too much to move a man with young kids halfway across Canada.

My dad (left) at the Canadian head office in Toronto.

Dad transferred to North Battleford in 1974 and was General Manager when Woolworths opened a large new store there as the anchor tenant of the Frontier Mall in 1975.

Dad quit in the early 80s and went into business as a sales agent for a furniture company. The new career was not what dad anticipated, and he did not enjoy being separated from his family as the job entailed a great deal of travel. He returned to Woolworth’s a few months later. As he had been replaced at the North Battleford store, he was assigned to the Woolworths in Swift Current, Saskatchewan. He commuted from North Battleford to Swift Current, a distance of about 320 kilometres. Dad was there until he was transferred to Terrace, British Columbia six months later.

Four years later, the company transferred dad to William’s Lake, B.C. In 1989 Woolworth’s converted all of its larger Woolworth stores into Woolco stores, which included the Williams Lake location.

Until last Christmas, I had no idea my mom still had these.

In August 1991, dad was transferred to the Woolco in Chilliwack. In March 1994, Woolworth’s sold its Woolco stores to Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart transferred Hans to Hinton, Alberta that same month. Dad left the company in August 1994. My parents and younger siblings then moved to Lethbridge, where we still had a fair amount of family. My dad briefly went into sales before he and my mother bought a small motel in southern Alberta. My dad has now been a motelier longer than he was a Woolworths manager. My youngest sibling and I have had much different fathers!

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