Tag Archives: fire

happiness

Cochrane Eye Opener: The Fire at the Alberta Hotel

I found a couple of copies of something called the “Cochrane Eye Opener”, which seems to be a handwritten news type booklet. I’m not sure how long this Eye Opener operated for, but this one was printed around Christmas time of 1927.

The first story in this edition of the Eye Opener is called “the fire” detailing the fire that destroyed the Alberta Hotel (since we seem to be on a prairie fire theme), and an account of the fire at the Alberta Hotel can be found on this history of Cochrane site.

Answering to the toll of the church bell, many Cochrane citizens gathered to watch a roaring blaze which completely destroyed the historic Alberta Hotel. It was a wonderful sight. Never in the history of the village has such a fire occurred.

In its history, the hotel has had two other fires, however, these were but minor ones, each one being extinguished before it gout of control. But nothing could have checked the final blaze. The three-story structure burned as if it was an immense heap of firewood saturated with coal oil.

The fire started in one of the front rooms of the (second?) floor, soon spread to every corner of the building.

Roaring and cackling, it burst through the floor sending a shower of sparks into the air to be blown fat over the railway track by a gusty north wind. Three or four inches of snow on the ground and roofs prevented these sparks from igniting any other buildings.

The hotel disappeared very quickly. In about two and one half hours the site changes from a modern boarding house and beer parlour to a heap of hot embers.

There are a few stories written here, some of the handwriting has faded, but what’s there is a fun little window into life in Cochrane in 1927. As someone who grew up eating at the Cochrane Cafe, and who was saddened when they finally closed their doors a few years ago, it was kind of fun to see their advertisement in this paper.

The handwritten story about the fire
Some advertisements for paper
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happiness

Pigs Living High on the Cow – Percy’s version of the 1936 Fire

It’s funny how the same situation can elicit such different recollections – here’s Grandpa’s version of the story of the fire. I have previously posted Grandma’s version here and another version here, as well as some photos here.

You’ll notice there is no mention of Grandma trying to outrun the fire in her car with her toddler and her baby bump. It is, though, a really good description of how it must have felt for him, and all of them, after the fire when they were trying to figure out how to feed and care for their cattle.

We had serious droughts which created feed shortages but the worst situation I experienced was in the fall of 1936 when a disastrous fire burned all our feed and most of the pastures. That evening when everything was burned and things looked hopeless, Ken Coppock, Sec. Manager of the Western Stock Growers paid me a visit and told me to come and see him as he would help to figure out a way out of this predicament. At this time, there was a lot of straw stack, some three and four years old up in the Olds district. Ken contacted a man up there for me who acquired enough straw to winter what cows I had to get through the winter. The government was shipping cattle at the time free of charge from southern Alberta which was dried out, and so Ken got me on the band wagon as well. There was some losses, a lot of defending on what kind of a farmer was looking after the cattle. There were about five hundred or more head and these had to be placed in small lots around the country at different farms. One place in particular, the cattle did not do well because they were not getting enough water. Roads were blocked for a couple of weeks and I was unable to check this particular herd until several cows died, which were then hauled up to the pigs. Instead of cows living high on the hog, the hogs were living high on the cows.

It was a happy day the following spring when I trailed them home from Cochrane. It took some of them longer than others to make the trip, but they sure knew their way home.

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Grandma’s Account of the Great Fire of 1936

I was so incredibly happy to discover that I have Grandma’s story of the fire. I heard her tell this story often when I was a kid and it always fascinated me. How brave she was!!! And as I read this account I had to ask myself “was this were Grandma’s intense need for a cup of tea in a crisis came from??” At Christmastime I was sharing stories with my cousin about all the times Grandma needed to stop and have a cup of tea when things went wrong. My story was from when she broke her arm. The doctor was trying to get an X-ray done and was having trouble. Grandma also was having trouble as 4pm had come and gone without her mandatory cup of tea. She began very clearly explaining to the doctor that it was going to be necessary to stop what they were doing so she could have a cup of tea. She was feeling a bit faint you see. I ran out to the cafeteria and got her some tea – while it wasn’t up to par because it came in a disposable cup and tea belongs in a teacup- it worked it’s magic and even the doctor was impressed at the change in Grandma. X-rays were done, cast was put on, and we were on our way.

I’ve given you the first chapter of my life. Now as I’ve told you, I married Percy Copithorne in 1931 – really in the midst of the depression, the early beginning of the dirty thirties. I was fortunate to marry a man of such integrity and his knowledge of the country and cattle industry gave him and advantage in those terribly dry years. I think it was in 1904 Percy’s father got two CL brands for his cattle, CL on the right hip for his own, and CL on the right ribs for Percy.

They built us a lovely little cottage near the established ranch home. The neighbours and half of Cochrane shivaried us and later the community put on a dance in the hall and presented us with a lovely silver carving set and several other matching pieces of silver. They are a close knit community and I loved them and still do. Percy helped build that hall in 1926 and to get it started he rode horseback after supper after doing a hard day’s work and sold shares to people in all the neighbouring districts. He later was secretary-treasurer for it for many, many years. The ladies in the district had a committee and took turns making all the sandwiches and cakes for the dances. We also scrubbed that huge floor by hand, carrying water up the in cream cans. Then waxed and polished it by hand. No electricity, we used those frightening gas lamps for light. In those days the hall was famous for its good coffee made in big copper boilers and for it’s good lunches. If you were thirsty for stronger drinks there was no bar but many had a flask out in their car.

Our home always had natural gas to heat it but there was no power nor running water for the first five or six years. Then we had a dealcoe engine then a wind charger to get electricity. It was a happy day when the Calgary Power hooked up to our place.

While my father-in-law lived I had no hired men to cook for, but he died in 1936. My first child Sheila, was born in 1935 and in 1936 our part of the country south of the Bow River experienced the worst prairie fire in its history. Late in the evening of November 18, we saw a very small puff of smoke up west in the part we now call Sibbald Flats. Next day the fire stopped at Bowness – a stretch of about 30 miles. Percy and Jack Copithorne left home on horseback about 4am the morning of November 19 and met the fire at Frank Sibbald’s. They spent a very busy day with many other neighbours trying to save homes and cattle. At times the wind was 90 miles an hour and the air was full of dust as well as smoke because it was the driest year our country has ever seen. The fence posts burnt, the cattle were blinded and burnt and lost. The telephone poles burnt and Ernie Crowe (?) our operator in Cochrane kept everyone on our party line (17 of us) in touch with conditions for as long as he could. I remember the last thing he told us was to go down and stand in the creek to save our lives. I was quite stout, expecting Marshall in March and I was advised to get int he car and try and drive to Cochrane. You jut couldn’t see where you were driving but when we turned north to drive to Cochrane, the Messer’s newly renovated house was all in flames, and a half mile further the Brushy Ridge school was all in flames and no sign of children. Also, Calaway’s dairy barn nearby was in flames. We turned east there to get to Calgary, knowing by then that the fire had swept across between us and Cochrane. Heading east down past Taylor’s their barn was on fire and rabbits and cattle etc were travelling with us, many were balls of fire bouncing along and the fence posts were on fire. We turned south on the first road allowance heading south, hoping to get on the Coach Road to Calgary. But down near Wallace’s the wind had blown a big hay stacker through the fence and it stuck on the middle of the road. We couldn’t even see it, the dust and cinders were so thick and we crashed right into the centre of it and had to stay put. As the boards on it caught fire, the young man who was driving for me would get out and rip the board off and it would sail away in the the wind all on fire. The cinders were so thick we kept choking. Fortunately i had a big jar of milk with me for poor little Sheila, and we used that to wipe our eyes and nose and mouth so we could breathe. I expected the car to explode any minute. There was a pail full of tools and loose hay hanging on the side of the stacker right beside me. Suddenly my side of the car was a wall of flames outside but it soon burnt out.

Early afternoon when the air was clearing a bit, Uncle Sam Copithrone drove down that road and was surprised to find us. He took Sheila and I into Vera Wallace’s for a cup of tea, then on home. Percy didn’t get home until evening. Imagine my worry for him, and of course he thought I was safe at home all that time. The fire jumped the creek, about a mile jump from one hill top to another and just north of our home. Our buildings were saved, but many of our neighbours’ buildings and livestock were lost. We had to shoot about 20 head of freshly weened calves, they were blind.

We didn’t harvest enough feed that fall but anyways it all got burnt in that fire. Ken Koppock, manager of the Western Stock Growers visited us right after the fire and he and Percy figured if they could get the cattle to the Olds district where there were lots of old and new straw stacks, they could save them. The government was shipping cattle by train from all over the dried out Southern Alberta, so we got them shipped up there but there were many losses.

As I said, I didn’t have the hired men to cook for while Percy’s Dad was alive. He died in 1936 and then I found myself cooking and feeding a gang of men in my tiny little house with two babies to care for as well. I had a very good girl to help me. When haying time came, they cut about a thousand acres of prairie land and would cover an average of a quarter section a week with a crew of nine or more men. I’m happy to say Percy’s young brother Clarence lived with us much of the time after his father’s death. He was only fourteen years old when his father died and he was like a big brother to my family. We began building bits and pieces onto our house when we could afford it and we were a happy family until Polio struck down my youngest daughter Margie in 1952 but she has lived through it gallantly. My children rode horseback to school up to grade nine. Then Sheila and Marshall went to Mount Royal College and from there on into their careers and managed to graduate from Stanford and then law school in spite of her handicap.

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Edna’s Story 10 (FGK 127)

There were three or four steady men to cook for and do their laundry. I was kept quite busy. The men milked about a dozen cows and separated the cream. We had to walk over to the dairy every morning (located near Annie’s house) to wash the pails and separator rain or shine. One bowl had 35 disks which had to be washed and rinsed separately. I churned once or twice a week and with the butter and eggs bought the groceries. Butter requires a lot of cold, cold water to wash all the buttermilk out of the butter to make it firm. Then you add salt and work it in, then pat it into a mold so that the result weighs exactly one pound. My churn was a big wooden barrel one that made about thirty pounds at a churning. We carried the water from a well on the other side of Annie’s house. It seemed like a quarter of a mile away.

We had a big windlass built out in the corral and butchered our beef there. Hung it up on the windlass to clean and skin, about an hour’s work. Then after it hung in a cool place for ten days, we would cut it up and put it into a brine and some jars and cook it. I also canned chicken. I remember one time I starved the roosters and other chickens to be butchered as usual the night before so they would have empty crops and be easier to handle. Never thinking about the weed seeds in the bottom of the trough. The chickens ate them. I had forty beautiful jellied jars of chicken but when I opened them to use they smelled so strong of stink weed and tasted like it too. I nearly wept when I couldn’t use them.

The year of 1936 was the driest one anyone could remember in our district. There was practically no crop to harvest nor hay to cut. Percy was very worried about feed for the cattle, and he had the enormous tasks of settling affairs of the estate as well. The dirty 30s seemed to be extra dirty to us when we lost our beloved parents but all over Canada people were suffering poverty and drought, so many, so much worse than we were. The men left the cattle out on the range waiting for the first fall of snow because there was so little feed at home. Cattle from the district have used the range at the base of Jumping Pound Mountain and Moose Mountain since long before it was made into a forest reserve. Riders camped up there to round up the cattle and bring them home early in November if not sooner.

This year, late in the evening of November 18th 1936, Jack Copithorne came up to visit Percy and to point out a pin point of smoke southwest on the range. They became very worried and decided to leave for the round-up camp, “The Lone Star” about 4am the next morning. I remember setting bread and baking it that night, along with fries and other food to send up with the wagon later in the morning but the wagon never left home. The men left on horseback and when they got as far as Frank Sibbald’s they met the fire and it swept past them. Here at home we had a high wind and the air was so full of smoke and dust you couldn’t see anywhere. Percy went into Sibbald’s and phoned home to tell me to send a man and a tractor up to Sibbald’s. He ploughed quite a furrow down north of Sibblad’s house to save it if the wind changed. But there was just no way of stopping that fire.

I was expecting my second child then, not quite as active and spry as I’d like to have been, but able to do the work just the same. When word came over the phone to vacate our homes and go to the creek for safety from the fire, I decided to put Sheila in the car and try to drive to safety. The story of my being trapped in the fire is told elsewhere in the history of our district. When I got home from the episode, I had a good two inches of solid cinders in my hair which took several shampoos to remove. The fire never reached our house and so I had done the wrong thing and got severely told about it even though it was not all entirely my own idea of what was best to do. When Percy came riding home he had lost our precious collie dog somewhere in his mad travels trying to save livestock. We wondered if we would ever see him again and loved him almost like a person. The next day, half of Calgary drove out to view the devastation and most of Cochrane too. All of the burnt country looked the same, just miles and miles of black cinders – no fences – no telephone poles, and nothing alive. Percy’s cousin Claude drove over to the Brushy Ridge area and while driving about three miles north of us, he saw something move. He got out and called to it and it nearly knocked him down racing to him and piled into the car. Claude continued his tour and then came to see ow we were doing and you can imagine our joy when “Buster” got out of his car. We often wonder if Buster recognized a Copithorne about Claude, or if there was something familiar about his voice. There were literally thousands of people milling around there and Buster was a very shy dog.

The following week, the ranchers started out to locate feed for their cattle. Percy’s brother George had just bought a new car and he offered to drive Percy, Frank, and Clem Gardner up into the Olds country to buy some straw stacks. They got a few miles north of Calgary when the car hit some loose gravel and rolled over into the ditch. It rolled over about four times before it came to a stop against a telephone pole, and it was upside down. No one was hurt at all, but they said everything was all mixed up like a pup’s breakfast inside that car. Later in the week they got to Olds and arranged to ship their cattle and put them out in little herds on the many farms that had straw stacks. Some of our men spent the winter up there looking after the cattle. What a winter that was! I think Percy became very well acquainted with the farmers around Olds and the snow was so deep up there that it was piled 10 feet high on the side roads.

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Waterton memories 

Waterton has long been one of my favourite places. I first went there on a school trip when I was 9 and it’s had a special place in my heart ever since. 

In recent years it’s become a happy place the kids and I have shared. There is a certain kind of peace we find in those mountains that we can’t find anywhere else. 

So today, as our beautiful haven is on fire, we spent some time with our happy memories of a place we love. It’s a special place for many of my friends as I’ve noticed them putting up some of their favourite Waterton photos. 

Nature will heal itself, it always does. But in the meantime we pray for the people and animals in the way of the fire. And remember all the happy moments we have spent in this magical place. 

It is my happy place. 

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the ups and downs

I’m not going to lie… today I was in a pretty crappy mood. I did a session of healing light yoga – and while it generally makes me feel good, and always makes me feel better in the long run – today it made me pissy and upset. Love how that energy moves around all those stored emotions and lets them come bursting out. Ugh.

This evening as I was driving the boy home from school we saw a huge fire in the direction of our homes.  I knew it wasn’t our house based on the location, but it looked like either the community hall or my cousin’s place and that freaked me out. We drove as fast as we could to get to where the fire was – it was a trailer that caught fire on the highway. Many phone calls were placed between cousins to find out what was going on, and we were all relived that everyone was ok, the fire didn’t spread, and that it didn’t affect any of our homes.

It kind of put things back in perspective for me though. Not only do I have this home that is filled with love to live in, but we are surrounded this tribe and we all care for and look out for each other. It’s not something that everyone has, and it’s not something that we had for our 10 years spent as gypsies. I’m so grateful for that and I’m so happy to be here surrounded by these people. Happiness moment….

It’s not our thanksgiving, but I sure have a lot to be thankful for. I loved seeing all my American friends celebrate their blessings online today.

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Fire food

I found myself in kind of a funky mood this afternoon. I’m not totally sure why, but I was. We had planned on going to the creek for part of the afternoon and to have supper (it was maybe the best meal of the summer – I love food cooked over the fire). I am so grateful that’s what we did because it totally changed my outlook. I went from being out of sorts to laughing and really enjoying myself. Of course the fact that he brought me chocolate significantly helped with the mood shift. It was less the food and more the thoughtfulness behind it that was the reason for the attitude adjustment. 

There is a certain peace I find at the creek that I don’t find many other places. It seems to only take me a few minutes and I am completely relaxed. I’m so grateful to have a place like that and to have my tribe. Happiness. Pure happiness. 

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The thunder rolls, and the lightening strikes….

Earlier this evening I had the unexpected pleasure of being alone in the house. I celebrated by happily enjoying a big ole piece of chocolate cake in front of the TV. Because sometimes such things need to be done. 

Suddenly the house felt like it was lifted up off it’s foundation and then dropped and shaken side to side all the while being completely lit up. Thunder and lightening hitting at exactly the same time. I could feel it right in my heart. I rolled off the couch onto the floor shaking, Ella’s eyes were bugged right out of her head and she was literally climbing the walls screeching rawwwwarrrrr over and over, Dottie was running wildly around the room whining so loud it was like a scream. 

I was lying there thinking what do I do? I’m going to die, what can I do? Oh right – Grandma would be furious with me for being so stupid as to have the TV on. I managed to turn it off and then looked outside to check the buildings. My cousin’s house was ok as was the barn and the other buildings. I tried mom but she was not answering. It was pouring rain by then so I didn’t run outside. The kids called from up at my cousin’s to say they were ok – shaken but ok. So I figured we were fine. 

Fortunately a neighbor was driving by because the lightning struck a fence post at the end of the yard. In the opposite direction of where I had been looking naturally. I was looking at buildings and tall trees – it decided to hit the fence post. The neighbor came in and started putting out the  fire. At the same time my cousin was coming home and saw the smoke. So it was the CL fire truck and fire fighters to the rescue. 

See that person in brown holding the hose? Same cousin I wrote about a few days ago who carried herself so elegantly at the Stampede. If I’m ever in crisis this is a person I want in my corner. 

The CL fire truck.  
 

My happiness moment today: the kids and I went and saw Minions. It was funny but no where near as good as Inside Out. Obviously I’m not used to going to movies in Calgary. The theaters were always almost empty in Roanoke, and they’re also pretty quiet in Cochrane. We walked into the theatre in Crowfoot a half hour before it started (very unusual for us. We usually arrive when they’re playing the commercials) and the only spots left were front row. We sat down in front and I looked back for Jacob – he had plunked down in a solo seat half way down – and a lady about a third of the way up started beckoning to me. She was there alone with four kids – bless her- and she pulled her kids up onto one row – so the 5 of them were sharing 3 seats- and gave us her other seats. I thanked her and we chatted a bit. She was from Cochrane and was waiting out the storm before driving home. This was the afternoon storm, not our electric explosion. 

I realize I get caught up sometimes by the jerk that cuts me off, the person who speaks rudely to me, or any number of other wrongs that can happen. But the world is full of wonderful, kind people and I am so much better to focus on them. Random acts of kindness are like rays of sunshine on a dark day and I’m grateful I got to experience one today. Happiness on a thunder storm day! 

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