Commitment to Community

What eastern Alberta and Saskatchewan lacks in mountain vistas, it makes up in its people, its beauty more like the rolling sublime yellow blooming fields we often experienced as we traveled through this immense region. Highlighting two situations we experienced during our truck and trailer trek through this region highlights this commitment to community; The first, externally it looks like a quite, beautiful and sublime RV park next to a small almost dried up lake close to the small town of Innisfree, but with a closer look through an after-hours evening conversation with a couple in their 80s who volunteer their time, it is much more. Commitment exampled through dedication and sacrifice, a giving back to the community that nurtured their lives, speaks volumes about the individuals' and community's hope for better times on this remote eastern plains town of Alberta, still-ever dependent on nature's beneficence and bane of fury, an attempt to lure new business through wayfarers like ourselves, to temper nature's harsh truth of farming without irrigation during the ever-present threats of drought, torrential rain, or the rise and fall of commodity prices on the world market, all well beyond any of their control or influence. More to be said on this later.


The second example of commitment to community was exampled by our "happenstance" acquaintance on a bright sunny Sunday morning, a small Anglican congregation of eight or ten folk committed to each others' lives, committed to their historic church presence in their town of Kenaston, a "bustling" population of 259, a community with hope for the future and a satisfaction in the ever-present "today." The congregants of Saint Columba Anglican Church loved having surprise visitors from afar making us feel at home immediately, and after the service we were more than invited to join them for coffee at the local restaurant, one of two places open in town for business, the other being a antique shop. The non-ordained, lay leaders, three in all, were studying via the internet under the auspices of the regional Anglican office, to be ordained as deacons. The church polity requires ordained deacons to administer communion, thus it was relegated from a weekly event to a month event when a traveling priest would make his rounds. The one leading the service that early August morning was a homemaker, determined with her fellow distance-learning students to provide for the continuance of the church's presence in the life of their community, honoring the 99 year history. As I observed, their numbers are small, but their love for each other and the community that cradles them is great.

Back to the community RV park of Innesfree. As with many plains towns, whether north of the border or south, Innesfree is fighting for its life, having just lost its one and only grocery store. Full of pride this town, I have learned, is actively stuggling for its remaining importance in a string of many towns along Provincial Highway 16 east of Edmonton and northwest of Saskatoon. Its answer is to try to slow down the passerby to stay in an affordable camp area replete with beautiful facilities, clean restrooms and competitive ball fields to attract regional events. Through the modest fees collected and a passel of community volunteers to manage and maintain the way-stop, this RV park/town park is the pride of the community. The older couple I mentioned earlier, long-retired from a life farming, now resides in a modest seniors apartment complex in town while working the front office about half-time, sharing their load together. They were a delightful couple with deep roots, the kind of stock you would want for neighbors, friends and representative of the best type of family. Age made no difference in our conversation that went well beyond an hour past closing time, their insistence, not mine. I thought they would be tired, as I was, but they were so full of life and so motivated by what their work means to the future of their small town.

No far outside of this town, we experienced the field of hay, land so fertile that it is hard to imagine its production, other than to see it in the round haystacks.
The last picture is typical of many of the old farm houses, abandoned over time to give way to larger spreads as a way of economic survival in the mechanized era.

Next stop, the famous President and the not-so-famous national park named after him. North Dakota here we come! Hint, who was known as the first conservation President who also became his own taxidermist and started his own personal natural history museum when he was but a youth? Further hint for those who need more help, where did Teddy bears get their name?

As I wind down this segment, I came across a picture I took from the highway, a curious sight seen miles away, a man-made hill on top of a small bluff, a ski run on the plains of Saskatchewan! I learned later that it was built and had run for some years as a training ski jump for local competitors to prepare for competitions elsewhere. The owners could not keep it cash flowing to keep up with the bills and repairs, thus the reluctant closure. This hill may be the best representation of the region's tenacity and creativity to work against odds, or rather to work with the land and its resources. Who would have thought to see a ski run here?

I am having too nice a time this morning, enjoying the time to write, reliving the recent trip and thinking of my young grandchildren, five in all. Let me share with you this ode to grand-parenting, found proudly displayed in the front yard in the little town of Ceylon Saskatchewan, a place we informally stopped and camped at for overnight. Perhaps some day we will once again settle down and plant our own grand-kid garden to welcome those precious loved ones to grandma's and grandpa's place.