Not sure the best place to put this. Seeing as I posted most of his pics in this forum I may as well post it here.
Got a call from my Dad early this morning. My Great Uncle Reuben went to be with his Lord this morning at 5:20AM, from complications due to pneumonia.
His passing comes just 20 days before he made his 100th Birthday.
First off get this rolling. If ya don't like it, suck it up princess.
[youtube]pK7T5suoUnU[/youtube]
Mr.& Mrs. Albert Olson came to Bergen in 1907, along with Albert's brothers to seek homesteading titles on land an hour north west of Calgary. It was a cold terrible winter in 07 and they wondered what they got themselves into when the other homesteader's dead cattle lay dead beside the trail leading North West. Perished in the cold.
They made it and got their deeded quarter sections.
In those days there was no sawmill established so they built a ramshackle house on Albert's place and then helped eachother get established with log cabins. Three years later a little boy arrived just before Christmas. Thankfully by that time there was better living arrangements.
Reuben recalled his father hiring some Indian's from Morely to work at clearing the land. He said his Dad was advised against it but not once was there any trouble.
A little boy came up with his Dad. His name was Charlie Simeon if I recall right. He could only speak Cree so communication was out of the question.
Even with the gap in culture and tongue he and Reuben made up all sorts of games and played catch using a ball made of rubber string from store parcels.
When the work was done Charlie went home with his Dad. Years later Reuben went to the Sundre Stampede and there was a young Indian boy competing in the wild horse race, turned out it was Charlie and they had a great visit after so many years.
As a young lad Reuben was handed a Steven's Favorite and was then responsible for putting meat on the table. Mostly cottontail rabbits were on the menu, in those days they were thick with them. But when the chance offered, Reuben would hide in the bundles of hay and wait for the grouse to come out and feed at first light. He had eaten so much rabbit anything else was a welcome relief.
There is a beaver dam on the Southeast corner of their property he often would sneak in the reeds to get ducks. One time he recalled watching the ducks as he krept closer and slid a cartridge into the chamber without looking. As he closed the breech the cartridge went off due to having the rim on the inside of the extractor.
The case ruptured since it was not fully chambered and peppered his face with burning powder. From that day on that little rifle gave him the worst flinch and he hated it. Not like he had a choice.
Another time the neighbors decided to take a wagon ride from Bergen over to Burntstick lake, 25+/- miles away. On the rough and muddy trail up there Mr. Lund's wagon got stuck in the mire. He was not impressed and promptly called the quagmire an "a&*hole". Now most all the folk there were good Christian men, they bit their tongue and got the wagon out. Farther along they came to another mudhole and again they got bogged down. A trapper who came along, Martin Arneson, asked Mr.Lund what he was going to call this hole before he could say anything.
They got up to Burntstick and did some fishing for a couple hours. Reuben and his friend were just getting warmed up when the rest wanted to go home so they stayed behind to walk the whole way home!
They had their bedrolls and stayed the night at a trappers cabin on the way and made the rest of the journey the next day. Die hard fishermen!
Later as a young man he wanted to start his own homestead while they were still available, this would be about 1927 or so. Due to him being not old enough for the deed his father got the title and held it for him. A very nice piece of land clear across the Bergen valley with a good spring on it.
[youtube]2vLk1MyAcFE[/youtube]
Still yet to turn legal age Reuben decided to go for a pack horse trip into the Banff park. He slashed the trail in all by himself. On the way back out he was met by one of the Park Rangers who offered him a job to be a ranger, scout and guide back in the park full time when he saw Reuben's horsemanship and outdoors ability.
He thought hard about the offer but had to turn it down. The Homesteaders act stipulated the title holder had to clear a minimum amount of land each year and there was no way to get that done riding the back country.
To think, Uncle Reuben could have been sitting in the Beer Parlor with the likes of "Wild Bill Peyto", trying to keep him calm and rational. Reuben often wished he had taken the job. Farm life was not so easy as we all know.
Reuben was also on the road crew that built the road from the Bergen Store north to Sundre. Built by horse and freznos it was a very arduous job. Not many here have had the pleasure to drive that road but it is a neat bit of history. His father Albert was on the road crew that built the Bergen road that goes west from highway 22.
During this same time Reuben had the trouble with the black bear, this being 1928-32 somewhere. Each mornign Reuben would lower the cream he had gathered into the well to stay cool in the warmer days, this pesky bear figured a way to get hold of the rope, lift up the can and empty it, then be on his way. It would go north to the Red Deer Valley School to torment the teacher and students. The circuit became a regular routine.
Reuben had the local trapper put a set by the well, chained to a hefty log. Next day in the early afternoon his horses went berserk in the corral as a trapped bear began to bellar and ball, stuck inthe trap. Reuben ran for his 44 and got up to the well.
He recalled it not being a pretty scene with several shots being fired to kill the bear. He soon sold that Winchester and got a 1899 Savage in 303, lighter and packing a better punch.
He loved breaking and working the big draft horses, Percherons being his breed of choice, he worked with them well into his early 90's. A calmer horse you would not be able to find than his. This was the Reuben I knew growing up, making the halters for all us kids in the 4-H club for our Steers and also the Equine club. He made his own harness and was quite famous for a time fashioning items for folks far and wide.
It wasn't until later when I started hunting that he would tell me his stories. A young kid rarely has time to listen to an elder and I was no exception but that changed. The passing of my Grandfather when I was 18 it hit me hard, and I took notice of those around us. In the later years I would go hunting at Reuben's, Auntie Esther having passed away he was pretty lonely.
We'd end up sitting in his living room until we ran outof words, then we'd sit not saying a word as we watched the sun set. 65 some years separated us but you wouldn't know it, he was one of my best friends.
Although he was not known by the family to give much of his stuff away, I guess I was the exception. He entrusted me to look after His Dad's Stevens and also the Remington 12C he bought from Martin Arneson in 1928. With that and Martin's old Bear trap he caught that blackie with I am honored to be the custodian of these bits of history until it is my turn to pass them down.
What a blessing it has been to know this man, few get to peer into a window that can go back 90 some years in the blink of an eye. I learned so much family history not to mention get a glimpse of what life was like then as he still lived that way until he could no longer.
We will miss you Reuben, your wisdom, iron will and that great way you could spin a yarn.
Take care and God's speed.
Albert Olson homestead Winter 1907. Albert on right
At the Sande homestead. Albert kneeling behind fence.
Another at the Sande homestead.
Reuben's Uncle Alvin's cabin. Alvin holding wood, Albert holding wash tub.
Circa 1908
Reuben's three sisters, Alvin in back ground. They shot the owls to slow predation on the rabbits.
Reuben with his dreaded Stevens.
Reuben and Albert watching a Buffalow being butchered. Sorry, he could not recall the story.
Reuben's Bear
Martin's trap
Riding out to Moose Mountain
Aunt Esther
Reuben's last trip to the field for a deer. 2007
The Steven's and the 12C Remington he bought from Martin in `28.
These are a bunch of pics I have never posted. They are from Wisconsin before the Olson boys moved.
Albert's brother Mose laying in front. Reuben's favorite Uncle.
What are you looking at?
Hurry up, this ain't light Jeb!
I said hurry up Jebidiah!
A Relation learning some taxidermist skills the old school way.
Before:
And after stretched over a saw horse frame. Sign me up.
Can I make a rug out of your dog Ma'am?
Got a call from my Dad early this morning. My Great Uncle Reuben went to be with his Lord this morning at 5:20AM, from complications due to pneumonia.
His passing comes just 20 days before he made his 100th Birthday.
First off get this rolling. If ya don't like it, suck it up princess.
[youtube]pK7T5suoUnU[/youtube]
Mr.& Mrs. Albert Olson came to Bergen in 1907, along with Albert's brothers to seek homesteading titles on land an hour north west of Calgary. It was a cold terrible winter in 07 and they wondered what they got themselves into when the other homesteader's dead cattle lay dead beside the trail leading North West. Perished in the cold.
They made it and got their deeded quarter sections.
In those days there was no sawmill established so they built a ramshackle house on Albert's place and then helped eachother get established with log cabins. Three years later a little boy arrived just before Christmas. Thankfully by that time there was better living arrangements.
Reuben recalled his father hiring some Indian's from Morely to work at clearing the land. He said his Dad was advised against it but not once was there any trouble.
A little boy came up with his Dad. His name was Charlie Simeon if I recall right. He could only speak Cree so communication was out of the question.
Even with the gap in culture and tongue he and Reuben made up all sorts of games and played catch using a ball made of rubber string from store parcels.
When the work was done Charlie went home with his Dad. Years later Reuben went to the Sundre Stampede and there was a young Indian boy competing in the wild horse race, turned out it was Charlie and they had a great visit after so many years.
As a young lad Reuben was handed a Steven's Favorite and was then responsible for putting meat on the table. Mostly cottontail rabbits were on the menu, in those days they were thick with them. But when the chance offered, Reuben would hide in the bundles of hay and wait for the grouse to come out and feed at first light. He had eaten so much rabbit anything else was a welcome relief.
There is a beaver dam on the Southeast corner of their property he often would sneak in the reeds to get ducks. One time he recalled watching the ducks as he krept closer and slid a cartridge into the chamber without looking. As he closed the breech the cartridge went off due to having the rim on the inside of the extractor.
The case ruptured since it was not fully chambered and peppered his face with burning powder. From that day on that little rifle gave him the worst flinch and he hated it. Not like he had a choice.
Another time the neighbors decided to take a wagon ride from Bergen over to Burntstick lake, 25+/- miles away. On the rough and muddy trail up there Mr. Lund's wagon got stuck in the mire. He was not impressed and promptly called the quagmire an "a&*hole". Now most all the folk there were good Christian men, they bit their tongue and got the wagon out. Farther along they came to another mudhole and again they got bogged down. A trapper who came along, Martin Arneson, asked Mr.Lund what he was going to call this hole before he could say anything.
They got up to Burntstick and did some fishing for a couple hours. Reuben and his friend were just getting warmed up when the rest wanted to go home so they stayed behind to walk the whole way home!
They had their bedrolls and stayed the night at a trappers cabin on the way and made the rest of the journey the next day. Die hard fishermen!
Later as a young man he wanted to start his own homestead while they were still available, this would be about 1927 or so. Due to him being not old enough for the deed his father got the title and held it for him. A very nice piece of land clear across the Bergen valley with a good spring on it.
[youtube]2vLk1MyAcFE[/youtube]
Still yet to turn legal age Reuben decided to go for a pack horse trip into the Banff park. He slashed the trail in all by himself. On the way back out he was met by one of the Park Rangers who offered him a job to be a ranger, scout and guide back in the park full time when he saw Reuben's horsemanship and outdoors ability.
He thought hard about the offer but had to turn it down. The Homesteaders act stipulated the title holder had to clear a minimum amount of land each year and there was no way to get that done riding the back country.
To think, Uncle Reuben could have been sitting in the Beer Parlor with the likes of "Wild Bill Peyto", trying to keep him calm and rational. Reuben often wished he had taken the job. Farm life was not so easy as we all know.
Reuben was also on the road crew that built the road from the Bergen Store north to Sundre. Built by horse and freznos it was a very arduous job. Not many here have had the pleasure to drive that road but it is a neat bit of history. His father Albert was on the road crew that built the Bergen road that goes west from highway 22.
During this same time Reuben had the trouble with the black bear, this being 1928-32 somewhere. Each mornign Reuben would lower the cream he had gathered into the well to stay cool in the warmer days, this pesky bear figured a way to get hold of the rope, lift up the can and empty it, then be on his way. It would go north to the Red Deer Valley School to torment the teacher and students. The circuit became a regular routine.
Reuben had the local trapper put a set by the well, chained to a hefty log. Next day in the early afternoon his horses went berserk in the corral as a trapped bear began to bellar and ball, stuck inthe trap. Reuben ran for his 44 and got up to the well.
He recalled it not being a pretty scene with several shots being fired to kill the bear. He soon sold that Winchester and got a 1899 Savage in 303, lighter and packing a better punch.
He loved breaking and working the big draft horses, Percherons being his breed of choice, he worked with them well into his early 90's. A calmer horse you would not be able to find than his. This was the Reuben I knew growing up, making the halters for all us kids in the 4-H club for our Steers and also the Equine club. He made his own harness and was quite famous for a time fashioning items for folks far and wide.
It wasn't until later when I started hunting that he would tell me his stories. A young kid rarely has time to listen to an elder and I was no exception but that changed. The passing of my Grandfather when I was 18 it hit me hard, and I took notice of those around us. In the later years I would go hunting at Reuben's, Auntie Esther having passed away he was pretty lonely.
We'd end up sitting in his living room until we ran outof words, then we'd sit not saying a word as we watched the sun set. 65 some years separated us but you wouldn't know it, he was one of my best friends.
Although he was not known by the family to give much of his stuff away, I guess I was the exception. He entrusted me to look after His Dad's Stevens and also the Remington 12C he bought from Martin Arneson in 1928. With that and Martin's old Bear trap he caught that blackie with I am honored to be the custodian of these bits of history until it is my turn to pass them down.
What a blessing it has been to know this man, few get to peer into a window that can go back 90 some years in the blink of an eye. I learned so much family history not to mention get a glimpse of what life was like then as he still lived that way until he could no longer.
We will miss you Reuben, your wisdom, iron will and that great way you could spin a yarn.
Take care and God's speed.
Albert Olson homestead Winter 1907. Albert on right
At the Sande homestead. Albert kneeling behind fence.
Another at the Sande homestead.
Reuben's Uncle Alvin's cabin. Alvin holding wood, Albert holding wash tub.
Circa 1908
Reuben's three sisters, Alvin in back ground. They shot the owls to slow predation on the rabbits.
Reuben with his dreaded Stevens.
Reuben and Albert watching a Buffalow being butchered. Sorry, he could not recall the story.
Reuben's Bear
Martin's trap
Riding out to Moose Mountain
Aunt Esther
Reuben's last trip to the field for a deer. 2007
The Steven's and the 12C Remington he bought from Martin in `28.
These are a bunch of pics I have never posted. They are from Wisconsin before the Olson boys moved.
Albert's brother Mose laying in front. Reuben's favorite Uncle.
What are you looking at?
Hurry up, this ain't light Jeb!
I said hurry up Jebidiah!
A Relation learning some taxidermist skills the old school way.
Before:
And after stretched over a saw horse frame. Sign me up.
Can I make a rug out of your dog Ma'am?
