Everyone turned out to celebrate July 1st, Dominion Day. It was a pleasant time of the year when the heat of the summer settled over the community, and the woodlands once again became clothed with green, and the meadows were arrayed with wildflowers. Annually, on this day the citizens of Amesdale gathered at the airport to celebrate the nation’s birthday with fun and games, and a picnic.
Since the proclamation issued to all Her Majesty’s loving subjects by Governor General, Lord Monck on June 20, 1868, the celebration of the anniversary of the Act of Confederation, and the formation of the Dominion of Canada was a national holiday. Unlike Britain, the United States, France and Germany, which achieved nationhood in war, Canada demonstrated a new way of achieving nationhood, through peace.
With another long winter behind them, Dominion Day was a time for every man, woman and child to have a good time. The men who laboured on the section gangs and in the bush enjoyed a well deserved day-off. There weren’t any flags or speeches, it was simply good fun. However, the celebration reflected the optimism of a nation and its people emerging from the bleak conditions of the Great Depression which had driven many of them from dry impoverished prairies to seek refuge in the bush.
The optimism was reborn in later years, after the war when Dominion Day had taken a back-seat to news from the front. All the “boys” had returned from overseas, having won Canada’s greatest test and proven themselves and their nation by fighting in WWII beneath their own flag, the Red Ensign. Having seen a portion of the world, they returned with new skills, and renewed optimism to establish families in the place they themselves had been raised by the first generation of Amesdale pioneers.
During the early years the celebrations had been held anywhere there was room in this community carved out of the bush. Space was first found alongside the store during the 1920s, then in the school yard beside the newly constructed school during the early 1930s. The later Depression years saw it moved to the Relief Camp, built for the construction of the airport, and there it remained even after the airport was completed and the five bunkhouses were removed. The remaining sheds and the airport custodian’s home remained the centre of the festivities with Jack Nelson, the airport custodian, together with his wife Ella hosting the event often organised by Beatrice Ames and Laurie Ames.
Through the years, the ice cream was always the highlight for the kids. In this era before modern refrigeration which never did arrive in the community, ice cream was a rare treat. In the heat of the summer, the manufacture of ice-cream relied upon ice was removed from the icehouse and mixed with salt to lower the temperature. Then after much cranking of the ice-cream tub, the prized frozen delicacy was extracted to the delight of the children. Later, Gordon Ames in his truck would deliver store bought ice-cream all the way from Dryden, packed securely in dry ice for the trip. As if for Santa Claus, the kids waited anxiously for ice-cream’s annual visit.
Regardless of the location, the games were the same year after year. Sack races, three-legged races, and tug of war were the favourites, not only for the youngsters, but also for the adults. Jean and Irene Paridis, young sisters now married to the Thompson brothers, would practice for the event and consequently always won the ladies events. Siblings, Beatrice Ames and Fred Radford enjoyed the softball games, often taking the position of pitcher in the tournaments, as would Myron and Roy Thompson. Undoubtedly, there would have been a game of horseshoes, and much visiting in the shade of the trees, interrupted only by a dip in the cool water of spring-fed Airport Lake, lying just over brow of the hill upon which the airport was built.
Being a family event, drinking reportedly wasn’t normally a part of the event, but eating was. Sandwiches, potato salad, pies, cakes and Irene Thompson’s baked beans were standard fare.
One year, during the late 1940s, lightning struck with an explosion like a bomb going off. Jack Nelson, standing beside a car was knocked to the ground, landing on his backside as the lightning bolt struck a tree not five feet from him. In the tree, standing alongside an outhouse, the lightening ploughed a three inch deep strip down the trunk, from top to bottom ripping the wood into splinters like toothpicks as the big white streak tore through the tree. Fortunately for the pregnant lady visiting from Dryden, and at that the very moment comfortably seated upon the outhouse throne, the bolt bypassed the outhouse and proceeded to strike a nearby shed. The shed, storing jute gunny sacks in the attic, immediately burst into flames, while the bolt bifurcated sending a ball of fire tumbling through the door of a nearby building.
Like a volunteer fire brigade, Fred Radford standing within ten feet of the strike, together with the other men, grabbed jute sacks now strewn about the yard, and beat out the fire. Fortunately, the event left only memories and no injuries. Everyone returned home happily from the annual event, after a particularly memorable day of games, socialising, and of course…ice-cream. Such was life at Amesdale, long days of work punctuated by rich and memorable events with family and friends.
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