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.