Day 2 would be THE highlight of all. After a breakfast-in-shifts-and-don't-be-late we drove past iconic grain fields to Glaslyn (pop. 357), the starting point of the legend of our ancestors in North America. (It's fitting that on the day many memorialize the Sept. 11 Ground Zero, we are actually at our own family's ground zero...). Artifacts include fire trucks, hand-forged farm implements, and classic push bikes. But the most important structure in town is the train station, still standing where our family jumped off in 1929. Our T-shirts matched our giddiness as we roamed the grounds, gleaning nostalgia and inspiration like our women gleaned the wheat fields.
The actual tracks of the arrival! A caboose to explore. The impressive 40,000 gallon water tower, itself featured in a National Geographic magazine spread. Our generous, friendly, and knowledgeable hosts --- the salt of this particular earth. The hospitality overflowed with a home-cooked picnic on the grounds. Even the honorary member of our bunch --- Flat Ryan --- was on track for an unforgettable day.
Our hosts jumped in again to find the site of Greenpark School, where some of the original kids attended. A first for me --- we were picked up in a school bus and driven to other legendary spots. The grown-over house of the Kozakavitch family, who sheltered our ancestors from their first brutal winter in Canada. The 2-storey interior still had coats on a rack, hundreds of canning lids, and an assortment of ladies' shoes. The American Pickers went to work gathering mementos. But most of the many outbuildings have collapsed, revealing only their hardworked age.
At last we came to the actual 160 acres of the homestead. Now a common pasture, but chills and thrills to imagine our people hand-building a cabin to live in and work from. A pilgrimage completed, with humility but excitement. They were here!
Down dusty backroads to the weary National Hall, where they went to dance on Saturday nights. Polka? Waltz? Amazing that a structure from the 1920's, out in open fields all those winters, still stands! Shall we dance? Outside, a more recent farmer's daughter explained when the canola is ready to harvest.
Still more! 10 miles south is Jackfish Lake where the family walked to the nearest beach. Overlooking the lake is Saskatchewan's only lighthouse, the bizarre result of a politician's tourism scheme. Expansive view of calm waters below. But the water was much rougher back at the motel waterslide; maybe we could have used that lighthouse? Look out below!
The actual tracks of the arrival! A caboose to explore. The impressive 40,000 gallon water tower, itself featured in a National Geographic magazine spread. Our generous, friendly, and knowledgeable hosts --- the salt of this particular earth. The hospitality overflowed with a home-cooked picnic on the grounds. Even the honorary member of our bunch --- Flat Ryan --- was on track for an unforgettable day.
Our hosts jumped in again to find the site of Greenpark School, where some of the original kids attended. A first for me --- we were picked up in a school bus and driven to other legendary spots. The grown-over house of the Kozakavitch family, who sheltered our ancestors from their first brutal winter in Canada. The 2-storey interior still had coats on a rack, hundreds of canning lids, and an assortment of ladies' shoes. The American Pickers went to work gathering mementos. But most of the many outbuildings have collapsed, revealing only their hardworked age.
At last we came to the actual 160 acres of the homestead. Now a common pasture, but chills and thrills to imagine our people hand-building a cabin to live in and work from. A pilgrimage completed, with humility but excitement. They were here!
Down dusty backroads to the weary National Hall, where they went to dance on Saturday nights. Polka? Waltz? Amazing that a structure from the 1920's, out in open fields all those winters, still stands! Shall we dance? Outside, a more recent farmer's daughter explained when the canola is ready to harvest.
Still more! 10 miles south is Jackfish Lake where the family walked to the nearest beach. Overlooking the lake is Saskatchewan's only lighthouse, the bizarre result of a politician's tourism scheme. Expansive view of calm waters below. But the water was much rougher back at the motel waterslide; maybe we could have used that lighthouse? Look out below!
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