The VanMetre name first became
known in the Lashburn, Canada area when our
parents, Charles Luther and Gertrude VanMetre
arrived from VanMetre, SD in 1914, with my
oldest brother, Louis VanMetre, in his first
year.
Our father was called
"Dutch" by his friends as his ancestry on his
father's side was Dutch from the
Pennsylvania Dutch Colony. He was born in
Vermillion, SD, in the southeast corner of the
state.
He
eventually owned a ranch on the banks of the Bad
River near VanMetre. This small town was first
named Bison, then later named VanMetre when the
railway came through and had to cross land
owned by Grandpa VanMetre. The Bad River was
aptly named as it was very treacherous. In the
morning it could be low and easily crossed, but
later could be a raging torrent becoming very
high with dangerous currents. Our mother
told us how our father, an expert swimmer,
rescued several people from this river.
Father
also had a livery stable in VanMetre. The
wealthy cattle buyers from Chicago would come
and hire him to take them to out-lying ranches
to conduct their business.
The
ancestry on our mother's side was Sioux Indians
of the United States, his mother being a
quarter-blood Sioux. He and my three oldest
brothers were members of the Sioux Indian
Nation. A U.S. Indian Treaty signed in 1919,
stated that any descendents of the Sioux after
that date would not be considered members and
would not receive free parcels of land from the
Nation. Because my youngest brother and I were
born after that date, we were not eligible. My
three oldest brothers each had a quarter of land
with oil rights, in the Cheyenne River Indian
Agency.
When our
father sold his Indian land to move to Canada,
he gave up his Indian rights. In a ritual,
proclaimed by President Taft of the United
States, he was given an arrow, considered to be
the last one shot from the bow, indicating he
was no longer to live the life of an Indian, but
was now to live the life of a white man. This
arrow was to always remind him of his noble race
and of the pride he felt in coming from the
first of all Americans. This gave him American
citizenship.
He was
also given a purse, a flag and a badge. I
remember the arrow in our home as I was growing
up but not until recently, did I know why it was
there. I still have the purse and badge and can
remember Mother using the purse many times
through the years.
When our
father was 13 years old, he shot his first
buffalo. I have a small amount of hair from that
buffalo. It had been used to stuff a small
pillow and given to me several years ago.
Our mother was
born in Minneapolis, Minnesota of Swiss and
German descent. Her father was born in
Dubuque, Iowa, but the ancestors on her
father’s side can be traced back to
1756, as all having been born in Glaurus,
Switzerland.
Mother spent most
of her youth in Milwaukee, Wisconsin where she
worked at an orphanage, caring for young
children. She and a girlfriend traveled west to
South Dakota where they bought a homestead. We
still have the repeater rifle she learned to
use. I have been told she became a very good
marksman.
She met and
married our father in Oacoma, SD in 1909. Their
first two babies died; the first at birth and
other at one month of age. Our oldest brother,
Louis, was born in 1913, and it was the next
year they moved to Canada where the soil was
good and the land cheap, unlike the drought and
hardships they had been having there (Oacoma).
The
homestead on which they filed was 15 miles north
of Lashburn and the price was ten dollars. They
built a log home, plowed the land and sowed the
crops with many hardships along the way. Mother
took her babies in
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the carriage and stocked the
grain or picked the multitudes of wild
strawberries so plentiful then.
Lashburn was a small town and
the only one close enough where they could sell
their grain and buy supplies. Mother made butter
in the pound press and took it to Snyder and
Armstrong’s Store where it was exchanged for
groceries.
Father increased
his holdings by buying another quarter of land
about two miles from the homestead. This was
owned by a man named Carl Winters and has, since
that time, been referred to as the “Winter
Quarter.” According to a letter Father received
from a land trust company, they sent him a
cheque for $585 for hauling estate’s share of
grain, namely 58½ bushels at ten cents a
bushel.
Families used to
get together on Sundays and drive to the North
Saskatchewan River for picnics and swimming.
Being an excellent swimmer, our father saved the
life of Fred Suttaby on one of these outings
when Fred became caught in a dangerous current
in the river. Sundays were also for
visiting friends. There was a different meeting
place every week so all had their turn. Homemade
ice cream often was the order of the day on
these occasions and ball games and other games
kept everyone busy. I remember hearing the names
of many old-timers in this respect . the
Christies, Nappers, Tingvalls, Turveys and
Coolidges, to name only a few. The nearest
gathering place for social functions was Banana
Belt School where my three oldest brothers
started their education. They rode horseback a
distance of four or five miles from the
homestead. Our father was known to have much
vocal talent and was quite often the master of
ceremonies at most programs and functions.
By early 1922,
our family had increased to five children:
Louis, Charles, John, Roy and myself. We were
all about two years apart.
Unfortunately, our
father was not able to see much of the fruits of
his labor or his family grow up. A heart seizure
brought on by high blood pressure took his life
in July of 1926. The farm property was auctioned
and the land rented. Mother became ill and was
taken to the hospital. An aunt from South Dakota
came up and took us back to the states for a few
months while Mother was getting medical
treatment. When she regained her health, she
came down on the train and brought us back to
Lashburn where the good people there had
obtained a house for her to rent. This house was
three-quarters of a mile east of Lashburn and
owned by the late Frank Spence. My four brothers
attended the old Lashburn Public School.
In late 1929 or
1930, Mother heard there was a possibility of a
new school being built near the homestead and
decided the farm would be a better place for the
boys to be working. By this time, Louis had quit
school and gone out to work. With four of us to
increase the enrollment, the district was
assured permission to build a school. It was
named Lenwall, after two soldiers killed
in the first world war, Len Moffat and Fred
Wall. It was not long before Charles quit school
and went out to work, too. John, Roy and myself
continued our schooling, the boys quitting at 15
years of age and going out to work between
helping farm the land.
The dry years of
the 30’s came along with many hardships. I can
remember the scourge of potato bugs – picking
them off the plants and throwing them into a can
of kerosene. We had no sprays then. Because of
the loss of the potato crops, there were many
time we had a diet of carrots and saskatoons for
several days and our school sandwiches had lard
instead of butter. I can’t ever remember going
hungry though as our mother, it seemed, could
make something out of practically nothing.
Many times she
would stay up at night to wash the boys’ heavy
underwear and dry them around the stove so they
would have it clean by morning. Money was too
tight for many changes of clothing.
The second world
war began in 1939, and my three youngest
brothers were drafted. Roy was in the air force
and John and Charles in the army.
In the early 50’s, our
mother moved to Lloydminster to live. She lived
alone until she was 93 years old when a disabled
hip made it necessary for her to go to a nursing
home for care. She was in the Lloydminster
Auxiliary Hospital for four years and finally
was called to rest in January, 1980, at the age
of 97 years and 10 months.
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