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| McDougall's sawmill, 1960 |
Chapter 6
My parents were in their
mid-40s when they boated out to Bow Narrows Camp for the first time together in
mid-September, 1960. Behind them was
Ohio, the construction business and all of their families. Ahead was a new
dream, adventure and … the unknown.
They had a little money
in their pockets from selling their summer cabin on the Pickerel River. All of
this they gave to Bill Stupack as a down payment on the camp. They were starting
over, from absolute scratch, and that didn’t faze them in the least. They
had seen hard times back in the Great Depression and had gone on to prosper. They
could do it again.
Mom loved the camp as
much as Dad. They immediately saw dozens of ways to improve the buildings, the
docks, and the rest of the infrastructure. One of the first big changes when
they took over in 1961 would be to offer American Plan which included meals and
guides in addition to the Housekeeping Plan where guests did their own cooking.
Their intention was to
find work in Red Lake and spend their first winter in Northern Ontario so they
would be Johnny-on-the-spot to take over camp the following spring. Dad was a
master carpenter, capable of building everything from forms for concrete to buildings
to fine finish work such as cabinetry and staircases. Mom could cook, wait
tables, do bookwork, manage a business and almost anything else. They were both
smart, hard-working, friendly and conscientious.
We only spent a week or
two at the camp because Bill needed the cabins for moose hunting which started about
Oct. 1. Dad made the hour-long trip to Red Lake one day before we left camp and
found a house to rent for the winter. It was one of several new cabins that Ken
McDougall was building on property behind his general store and trading post in
Red Lake. Dad could pay the rent by building more of the cabins. He also hoped
to find other carpentry jobs.
That first winter at
McDougall’s cabins was our introduction to Red Lake’s frontier culture and gave
us an inkling into First Nations relationship with other Canadians.
We didn’t realize it
until years later but these cabins were Ken McDougall’s way of objecting to the
Ontario Government’s treatment of native Ojibwa people.
The Ojibwa, and further
north, the Cree, were not allowed to live anywhere except on the reserves or in
established towns. No more could they be scattered across the landscape as they
had done for over 10,000 years.
Before Europeans arrived,
big lakes like Red Lake and Trout Lake had native communities while every other medium-sized
lake had single family structures from which the families trapped, hunted,
fished and gathered wild rice.
Although they weren’t forced
to the reserves at the end of a bayonet government regulations gave them no
other choice.
The First Nations’
homeland was now Crown land. Native people retained their traditional hunting,
fishing and trapping rights to their treaty areas but the Crown had the right
to issue licences to cut off the timber and mine its minerals.
At the same time Ontario
had long ago established registered traplines which allowed trappers to live on
their ‘lines during trapping season. This was done, at least in part, to
regulate the harvest of beaver, Canada’s national animal.
Beaver were responsible
for the creation of Canada having been the main fur sought for hundreds of
years by the Hudson's Bay Company as well as the North West Company. At one time beaver
were nearly trapped to extinction but then fur prices fell so low that no one
trapped them at all. Beaver populations grew to such enormous levels that a
plague overtook the furbearers. The disease was more deadly than over-trapping
and nearly wiped them off the face of the province.
After that Ontario
created its registered traplines. Many of them measured 100 square miles or more.
Only one individual and his personal helpers (this could include family) were
allowed to harvest furbearing animals from each trapline. The trapper was required
to abide by a strict beaver quota. He could not harvest more than 100 per cent
of his quota and also not less than 90 per cent.
Most of the trappers
were, of course, native, especially in remote areas.
So this let them still
live on the land but just during the six-month winter. They were forbidden to
live in their cabins any other time. Since they were impoverished, it seemed
unlikely they could afford to live in towns. Thus they would be forced to return to the reserves where the
federal government paid for housing but did so inadequately. The result being
ghetto-like conditions with many families living in single structures. And with
the reserves' remote locations, there was no way to make a living.
Lots of native people objected
to this reality and spent their summers in Red Lake instead, crowding in with relatives
who did own homes or just living outside – homeless.
Most of the men took jobs
guiding at fishing and hunting lodges (like Bow Narrows). Others worked on
fire crews for the Department of Lands and Forests (now Ontario Ministry of
Natural Resources and Forestry.)
Not surprisingly, the
diaspora native people found themselves in led to major social problems. Many turned
to alcohol.
It would be many decades later that we learned about the worst of the First Nations experience -- residential schools.
McDougall decided to help
them out by building inexpensive cabins behind his historic store on Red Lake’s
waterfront. He owned a sawmill on the other side of Howey Bay from the town and
all the material for the cabins, except windows and shingles, were his own.
Native people could pay
their summer rent by trading him their furs in the winter. This would give families
a place to stay in the summer while the men worked at the camps.
The Ontario Government
was furious.
This is when we moved in
to one of the first cabins. They were available because it was the start of
trapping season.
The road behind the store
went up a steep hill and was made from sawdust. Our cabin had three rooms. Sawdust
was used for insulation. A cheap airtight wood stove provided heat. McDougall
provided slabs from the sawmill for firewood. The cabin had electricity but no
water. The bathroom consisted of an outhouse placed above a metal drum. There
was no soil in this part of town, just exposed bedrock. We got our water in
pails from a communal pitcher pump a couple of hundred feet from the cabin.
We had no furniture, but
Dad made a table from an old door and 2x4s. He also made a couple of benches. We
had two folding lawn chairs from our camping trip on the way to
Red Lake. The cheap plastic air mattresses that we had slept upon while camping were
our only beds.
We did, however, have two
luxuries that our neighbours did not: a propane Servel refrigerator and a
propane kitchen range brought from the cabin at Pickerel River. The neighbours
either cooked on their airtight heaters or had wood burning cook stoves.
When we left the Pickerel
River, my sister Sandi, and her new husband, Cliff, had come along. They now took one of the bedrooms and Mom, Dad and I the other.
Cliff was a clever,
handy, fellow and soon found a part-time job working as a truck driver
delivering furnace fuel to homes in preparation for winter. Dad, of course, was
working as a carpenter.
We could buy groceries
from McDougall’s store. This was a classic general store with a main glass
counter with canned goods on shelves along the wall behind it. A giant wheel of
Black Diamond cheese sat on a table in the center of the room. Other shelves
held boots and clothing. A barrel contained army surplus .303 rifles that sold
for just $5. There were many bins of traps and snares. Little had changed in
the store from the times of the 1926 Gold Rush.
Under the glass counter
was mixed hard candy and one time my dad gave me a nickel to buy some. I came
back to the cabin with a small brown paper sack generously filled to the top
with delicious peppermint and horehound candy. We pretty quickly consumed it so
in a few days Dad walked down to the store and this time asked for a quarter’s worth. McDougall’s
right-hand man, Bob Alexander, filled exactly the same size bag for him. Dad
laughed and appreciated what was going on: Bob helped out little kids who had
next to nothing to spend but charged adults full price.
The next order of business was to enroll me in Grade 2. It would prove to be a harrowing experience.
...to be continued
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2 comments:
Dan- I'm trying to figure out where McDougall's was located. Is the building still standing?
It was nearly on the corner as you turned west from Howey Bay at Hammell Narrows. It was past Viking Outposts' docks and before you came to the fancy houses in the narrows. It was a tan brick building with a false front. I can't think if it is still there.
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