[DebraSudlow.FTW]

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[DebraSudlow.FTW]

The following was written by Patricia Wesleyson, ca. 1980:

My Memories of Early Pioneering by Patricia Wesleyson

 In 1898, before I was born, my father decided to sell everything heowned in Austria and move to Canada. The Austrian people lived inpoverty. Jobs were scarce and land was expensive and therefore, it wasvirtually impossible for the poor people to own land. Big landowners,Lords, owned all the land and the poor were forced to work it for them orstarve. Even then they worked from sun rise to sun set for pennies perday. The pay was roughly about 50c per day for a man and 25c per day fora woman. At harvest time the ripened grain was cut down with sickles. Theworkers were allowed to keep one sheaf for every ten they reaped. Besides the cost of the land, another reason why people eventuallybecame landless was their custom of dividing the land among theirchildren. With the passage of time there wasn't any left to divide. Facedwith this situation many Austrians began to emigrate to Canada where theywere being offered a homestead of 160 acres of land free of charge. Myparents were two of many who decided to go to the new world. They didn'tknow what lay ahead, what they would find in Canada, but I guess theyfelt they had little to lose. My parents along with three children, two girls and one boy, arrivedin Canada in June of 1898. Their sponsor who met them, didn't know whereto send them and, of course, the immigrants didn't know where to go. Theywere kept in Winnipeg for six weeks until they found a place for them.Winnipeg was a very small town then with only a few buildings. Some menwere offered jobs in Winnipeg to help build needed homes, etc. However,most of the immigrants, including my father wanted land. That was thereason for coming to Canada. No one know what kind of land they would get. The more desirableland was already taken -- near towns, on rivers, near roads or railroads, etc. My father filed his homestead claim on some land that was 9miles from Sifton and 11 miles from Dauphin in the province of Manitoba.He couldn't find anything closer at that time. To get to this land, you had to build your own road. Several of the'future' neighbors got together and cut down trees and bushes, avoidingswamps and fighting hordes of mosquitoes, they built a makeshift road totheir farms. There were no roads anywhere near this area. To get anywhere the newarrivals had to ford rivers. This meant waiting until the water was lowenough to allow them to cross. There was an immigration buildingsomewhere in the area where the families congregated to cook their mealsover an open fire and to spend the night until they could buildthemselves a shelter of some kind. My parents moved as soon as theirhouse was partly built. I was born that July in a little stable in Sifton. Since it was warmthat time of year, the owner's two cows were outside in a pasture so wewere not disturbed, but had the place to ourselves.

Shortly after I was born, my mother had to take me to the ImmigrationHall to register my birth. There was no place for her to rest or put downthe baby anywhere. My poor mother must have been very tired.
A few days later we were back on the farm. The house was unfinished andit was raining. It rained for a whole wee. Everything was wet. Mothercouldn't find anything dry to wrap me in. Somehow I survived in spite ofthe discomfort.
However, we were not so fortunate financially. My parents had runout of money. My father sold everything he owned for about $600.00. Whenhe arrived in Sifton, he had to pay for filing the homestead claim, paysomeone to help hi move their belongings to the farm and he had to buyflour and other staples to keep his family alive until they could growtheir own food. There were wild animals around, but we had no way to trapor shoot them for food. Our family was starving in the land of plenty.
We discovered that a German bachelor lived not more than 3 milesaway from our place. He had immigrated about 2 years before. He offeredus help. One thing our family remembered was the sauerkraut he gave usthat helped us survive. He also took my father with him to Brandon wherethey worked in harvesting the grain grown in that area.
Brandon was at least 90 miles away from where we lived. Neither theneighbor nor my father had money so they walked all the way, followingthe railroad tracks.
The farmers around Brandon were quite prosperous, comparativelyspeaking. They had settled in the Brandon area some few years before myfamily arrived. They had good crops and paid workers to help them withthe harvesting, however pay was rather meager -- $1.25 per day forstooking and $1.50 for threshing. The workers were able to earn 35 to 45dollars each during the harvest period. With the money my father and theneighbor earned in their pockets, they decided to walk home again as theywere reluctant to spend $3.00 for a train ticket.
From the money he earned, my father had to pay taxes, buy moregroceries, shoes and a few other necessities. Our neighbor donated a bidload of cabbages so we had cabbage and bread to eat and tea to drink.
Of course, I don't remember these things, but my mother and theolder sisters told me about them.
Next spring when the weather allowed, my father cleared a couple ofacres of his land. The neighbor plowed it for him and when all was ready,father planted some wheat. The wheat grew beautifully, but before fatherharvested it, he and his neighbors again set out for Brandon to make somemoney helping with the harvest there.
When the men left for Brandon, the women and children were leftalone. It was during this time that a huge forest fire come roaringthrough the woods, burning everything in its path. The women had neverexperienced anything like this. All the women including my mothergathered together and decided to try and save at least one house and letthe others burn. So Mother gathered the children together and took onelook at the wheat she had harvested herself with a sickle, had tied intosheaves and left it stacked in the center of the field. She said a littleprayer as she gazed at the few things they had managed to put togetherthat year. The children were placed in sort of pit dug into the ground.The women themselves prepared to fight the oncoming fire. They had wetbags and tubs of water to help them, and somehow they saved the onehouse, battling the fire, the heat, and the choking smoke until morning.By then you could only see the smoldering logs that were once big trees.
My mother decided to go back home and see what happened to thehouse. As she walked through the thick, choking smoke that covered thewhole area, she couldn't believe what she saw when she reached theclearing where the house was. It was a miracle: the house was there,untouched by the fire and the little stack of wheat was where she leftit. The fire had burned around it but left the stack unharmed. The pileof dry wood stacked beside the house was spared. The fire had burned afew of the smaller branches, but died before it reached the larger logs.The straw roof on the house survived. My mother felt so grateful.Everything was almost back to normal.
Some neighbors lost their houses, others lost cows and crops. As forus we couldn't afford a cow for at least three more years.
It took years of very hard work, sacrifices and hardships to getahead. It must have taken about 20 years before my family becameprosperous enough to be able to afford some of the better things in life.
[SudlowMillerE.FTW]

The following was written by Patricia Wesleyson, ca. 1980:

My Memories of Early Pioneering by Patricia Wesleyson

 In 1898, before I was born, my father decided to sell everything heowned in Austria and move to Canada. The Austrian people lived inpoverty. Jobs were scarce and land was expensive and therefore, it wasvirtually impossible for the poor people to own land. Big landowners,Lords, owned all the land and the poor were forced to work it for them orstarve. Even then they worked from sun rise to sun set for pennies perday. The pay was roughly about 50c per day for a man and 25c per day fora woman. At harvest time the ripened grain was cut down with sickles. Theworkers were allowed to keep one sheaf for every ten they reaped. Besides the cost of the land, another reason why people eventuallybecame landless was their custom of dividing the land among theirchildren. With the passage of time there wasn't any left to divide. Facedwith this situation many Austrians began to emigrate to Canada where theywere being offered a homestead of 160 acres of land free of charge. Myparents were two of many who decided to go to the new world. They didn'tknow what lay ahead, what they would find in Canada, but I guess theyfelt they had little to lose. My parents along with three children, two girls and one boy, arrivedin Canada in June of 1898. Their sponsor who met them, didn't know whereto send them and, of course, the immigrants didn't know where to go. Theywere kept in Winnipeg for six weeks until they found a place for them.Winnipeg was a very small town then with only a few buildings. Some menwere offered jobs in Winnipeg to help build needed homes, etc. However,most of the immigrants, including my father wanted land. That was thereason for coming to Canada. No one know what kind of land they would get. The more desirableland was already taken -- near towns, on rivers, near roads or railroads, etc. My father filed his homestead claim on some land that was 9miles from Sifton and 11 miles from Dauphin in the province of Manitoba.He couldn't find anything closer at that time. To get to this land, you had to build your own road. Several of the'future' neighbors got together and cut down trees and bushes, avoidingswamps and fighting hordes of mosquitoes, they built a makeshift road totheir farms. There were no roads anywhere near this area. To get anywhere the newarrivals had to ford rivers. This meant waiting until the water was lowenough to allow them to cross. There was an immigration buildingsomewhere in the area where the families congregated to cook their mealsover an open fire and to spend the night until they could buildthemselves a shelter of some kind. My parents moved as soon as theirhouse was partly built. I was born that July in a little stable in Sifton. Since it was warmthat time of year, the owner's two cows were outside in a pasture so wewere not disturbed, but had the place to ourselves.

Shortly after I was born, my mother had to take me to the ImmigrationHall to register my birth. There was no place for her to rest or put downthe baby anywhere. My poor mother must have been very tired.
A few days later we were back on the farm. The house was unfinished andit was raining. It rained for a whole wee. Everything was wet. Mothercouldn't find anything dry to wrap me in. Somehow I survived in spite ofthe discomfort.
However, we were not so fortunate financially. My parents had runout of money. My father sold everything he owned for about $600.00. Whenhe arrived in Sifton, he had to pay for filing the homestead claim, paysomeone to help hi move their belongings to the farm and he had to buyflour and other staples to keep his family alive until they could growtheir own food. There were wild animals around, but we had no way to trapor shoot them for food. Our family was starving in the land of plenty.
We discovered that a German bachelor lived not more than 3 milesaway from our place. He had immigrated about 2 years before. He offeredus help. One thing our family remembered was the sauerkraut he gave usthat helped us survive. He also took my father with him to Brandon wherethey worked in harvesting the grain grown in that area.
Brandon was at least 90 miles away from where we lived. Neither theneighbor nor my father had money so they walked all the way, followingthe railroad tracks.
The farmers around Brandon were quite prosperous, comparativelyspeaking. They had settled in the Brandon area some few years before myfamily arrived. They had good crops and paid workers to help them withthe harvesting, however pay was rather meager -- $1.25 per day forstooking and $1.50 for threshing. The workers were able to earn 35 to 45dollars each during the harvest period. With the money my father and theneighbor earned in their pockets, they decided to walk home again as theywere reluctant to spend $3.00 for a train ticket.
From the money he earned, my father had to pay taxes, buy moregroceries, shoes and a few other necessities. Our neighbor donated a bidload of cabbages so we had cabbage and bread to eat and tea to drink.
Of course, I don't remember these things, but my mother and theolder sisters told me about them.
Next spring when the weather allowed, my father cleared a couple ofacres of his land. The neighbor plowed it for him and when all was ready,father planted some wheat. The wheat grew beautifully, but before fatherharvested it, he and his neighbors again set out for Brandon to make somemoney helping with the harvest there.
When the men left for Brandon, the women and children were leftalone. It was during this time that a huge forest fire come roaringthrough the woods, burning everything in its path. The women had neverexperienced anything like this. All the women including my mothergathered together and decided to try and save at least one house and letthe others burn. So Mother gathered the children together and took onelook at the wheat she had harvested herself with a sickle, had tied intosheaves and left it stacked in the center of the field. She said a littleprayer as she gazed at the few things they had managed to put togetherthat year. The children were placed in sort of pit dug into the ground.The women themselves prepared to fight the oncoming fire. They had wetbags and tubs of water to help them, and somehow they saved the onehouse, battling the fire, the heat, and the choking smoke until morning.By then you could only see the smoldering logs that were once big trees.
My mother decided to go back home and see what happened to thehouse. As she walked through the thick, choking smoke that covered thewhole area, she couldn't believe what she saw when she reached theclearing where the house was. It was a miracle: the house was there,untouched by the fire and the little stack of wheat was where she leftit. The fire had burned around it but left the stack unharmed. The pileof dry wood stacked beside the house was spared. The fire had burned afew of the smaller branches, but died before it reached the larger logs.The straw roof on the house survived. My mother felt so grateful.Everything was almost back to normal.
Some neighbors lost their houses, others lost cows and crops. As forus we couldn't afford a cow for at least three more years.
It took years of very hard work, sacrifices and hardships to getahead. It must have taken about 20 years before my family becameprosperous enough to be able to afford some of the better things in life.
[SudlowMillerE.FTW]

The following was written by Patricia Wesleyson, ca. 1980:

My Memories of Early Pioneering by Patricia Wesleyson

 In 1898, before I was born, my father decided to sell everything heowned in Austria and move to Canada. The Austrian people lived inpoverty. Jobs were scarce and land was expensive and therefore, it wasvirtually impossible for the poor people to own land. Big landowners,Lords, owned all the land and the poor were forced to work it for them orstarve. Even then they worked from sun rise to sun set for pennies perday. The pay was roughly about 50c per day for a man and 25c per day fora woman. At harvest time the ripened grain was cut down with sickles. Theworkers were allowed to keep one sheaf for every ten they reaped. Besides the cost of the land, another reason why people eventuallybecame landless was their custom of dividing the land among theirchildren. With the passage of time there wasn't any left to divide. Facedwith this situation many Austrians began to emigrate to Canada where theywere being offered a homestead of 160 acres of land free of charge. Myparents were two of many who decided to go to the new world. They didn'tknow what lay ahead, what they would find in Canada, but I guess theyfelt they had little to lose. My parents along with three children, two girls and one boy, arrivedin Canada in June of 1898. Their sponsor who met them, didn't know whereto send them and, of course, the immigrants didn't know where to go. Theywere kept in Winnipeg for six weeks until they found a place for them.Winnipeg was a very small town then with only a few buildings. Some menwere offered jobs in Winnipeg to help build needed homes, etc. However,most of the immigrants, including my father wanted land. That was thereason for coming to Canada. No one know what kind of land they would get. The more desirableland was already taken -- near towns, on rivers, near roads or railroads, etc. My father filed his homestead claim on some land that was 9miles from Sifton and 11 miles from Dauphin in the province of Manitoba.He couldn't find anything closer at that time. To get to this land, you had to build your own road. Several of the'future' neighbors got together and cut down trees and bushes, avoidingswamps and fighting hordes of mosquitoes, they built a makeshift road totheir farms. There were no roads anywhere near this area. To get anywhere the newarrivals had to ford rivers. This meant waiting until the water was lowenough to allow them to cross. There was an immigration buildingsomewhere in the area where the families congregated to cook their mealsover an open fire and to spend the night until they could buildthemselves a shelter of some kind. My parents moved as soon as theirhouse was partly built. I was born that July in a little stable in Sifton. Since it was warmthat time of year, the owner's two cows were outside in a pasture so wewere not disturbed, but had the place to ourselves.

Shortly after I was born, my mother had to take me to the ImmigrationHall to register my birth. There was no place for her to rest or put downthe baby anywhere. My poor mother must have been very tired.
A few days later we were back on the farm. The house was unfinished andit was raining. It rained for a whole wee. Everything was wet. Mothercouldn't find anything dry to wrap me in. Somehow I survived in spite ofthe discomfort.
However, we were not so fortunate financially. My parents had runout of money. My father sold everything he owned for about $600.00. Whenhe arrived in Sifton, he had to pay for filing the homestead claim, paysomeone to help hi move their belongings to the farm and he had to buyflour and other staples to keep his family alive until they could growtheir own food. There were wild animals around, but we had no way to trapor shoot them for food. Our family was starving in the land of plenty.
We discovered that a German bachelor lived not more than 3 milesaway from our place. He had immigrated about 2 years before. He offeredus help. One thing our family remembered was the sauerkraut he gave usthat helped us survive. He also took my father with him to Brandon wherethey worked in harvesting the grain grown in that area.
Brandon was at least 90 miles away from where we lived. Neither theneighbor nor my father had money so they walked all the way, followingthe railroad tracks.
The farmers around Brandon were quite prosperous, comparativelyspeaking. They had settled in the Brandon area some few years before myfamily arrived. They had good crops and paid workers to help them withthe harvesting, however pay was rather meager -- $1.25 per day forstooking and $1.50 for threshing. The workers were able to earn 35 to 45dollars each during the harvest period. With the money my father and theneighbor earned in their pockets, they decided to walk home again as theywere reluctant to spend $3.00 for a train ticket.
From the money he earned, my father had to pay taxes, buy moregroceries, shoes and a few other necessities. Our neighbor donated a bidload of cabbages so we had cabbage and bread to eat and tea to drink.
Of course, I don't remember these things, but my mother and theolder sisters told me about them.
Next spring when the weather allowed, my father cleared a couple ofacres of his land. The neighbor plowed it for him and when all was ready,father planted some wheat. The wheat grew beautifully, but before fatherharvested it, he and his neighbors again set out for Brandon to make somemoney helping with the harvest there.
When the men left for Brandon, the women and children were leftalone. It was during this time that a huge forest fire come roaringthrough the woods, burning everything in its path. The women had neverexperienced anything like this. All the women including my mothergathered together and decided to try and save at least one house and letthe others burn. So Mother gathered the children together and took onelook at the wheat she had harvested herself with a sickle, had tied intosheaves and left it stacked in the center of the field. She said a littleprayer as she gazed at the few things they had managed to put togetherthat year. The children were placed in sort of pit dug into the ground.The women themselves prepared to fight the oncoming fire. They had wetbags and tubs of water to help them, and somehow they saved the onehouse, battling the fire, the heat, and the choking smoke until morning.By then you could only see the smoldering logs that were once big trees.
My mother decided to go back home and see what happened to thehouse. As she walked through the thick, choking smoke that covered thewhole area, she couldn't believe what she saw when she reached theclearing where the house was. It was a miracle: the house was there,untouched by the fire and the little stack of wheat was where she leftit. The fire had burned around it but left the stack unharmed. The pileof dry wood stacked beside the house was spared. The fire had burned afew of the smaller branches, but died before it reached the larger logs.The straw roof on the house survived. My mother felt so grateful.Everything was almost back to normal.
Some neighbors lost their houses, others lost cows and crops. As forus we couldn't afford a cow for at least three more years.
It took years of very hard work, sacrifices and hardships to getahead. It must have taken about 20 years before my family becameprosperous enough to be able to afford some of the better things in life.

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