Good hunting, Sonny
We will reminisce Ken’s life, talk about the good times, the hard times and share some our favourite stories before we send him on his eternal voyage. Ken, with his family came to this area during the Great Depression. They lived in tents while his father built their first sod house. Having a steady diet of bush rabbit and wheat tea, facing hardships that required both physical and mental strength; they persevered enduring hardships almost unimaginable to us to today. Between farming, cattle hauling and supplying tamarack fire wood to the hospital, Ken and his wife Thelma managed to start a fishing camp at Ministikwan Lake and a few years later another camp at Fowler Lake. They built wooden boats for their rental fleet, accommodating those who challenged the roads and trails of the day. In 1958 or 1959 the dams burst between Galletly Lake and Worthington Lake allowing huge northern pike to migrate into Worthington Lake. As this became known there was a fury to fish on Worthington, so Ken took his boats over there while the chase was hot. One of his notable customers back then was Bill, some of you may recall the Bill & Bill radio show out of Edmonton. Occasionally you would hear Bill reminisce about their times fishing for those big pike on Worthington Lake. Ken became well known around the lakes. He would always find you a boat or somewhere to park your trailer or if he wasn’t home when you came off the lake with a rental, the door was always open for you to leave the money on the table. I am not sure that would happen today. If you spent any time around Ken you would know he always had an opinion; whether it was politics or other wise, you knew when he started flipping his hat on and off he was passionate about the topic. You may have shared a sealer or two of potato wine while around the lake or perhaps on Primrose Lake when he was a fish buyer for Clarks out of Meadow Lake or perhaps he picked up a conversation with you out of the blue at an auction sale. Ken was always accommodating and fair with family, neighbours and friends. In their retirement years both Ken and Thelma were usually around and when we would be away, the alarm from the Trading Post was forwarded to them. We had been experiencing a number of break ins and he attempted to be on the scene as quickly as possible, usually a good 45 minutes before the local authorities. One night around 2 a.m. their phone rings, it’s ADT and the alarm went off so Sonny and Thelma head up to the lake. Sonny has his trusty 32-special along as a precautionary measure. When they arrived the lights inside were on so they knew this was no false alarm. Remember Donna’s mother is now 80 years old and Sonny handed her the gun and says “okay, you cover me.” Can you imagine this 80-year-old woman, who had probably never even shot a gun, at 2 a.m. when it’s pitch black outside being told to protect her mate of the past 50 odd years, as he attempts to subdue the perpetrators? How funny is that – as it turned out the thieves were already gone and no shots were fired. Ken loved being in the bush, he was an avid hunter always taking people to the bush for a deer or moose hunt. On one occasion he was accompanying me and several non-resident hunters, we had been chasing a couple of whitetail bucks when several shots rang out. When we fi nally all rallied together, everyone wondering what was up, with a straight face Johnson says he just sent a couple of warning shots attempting to change the direction in which the deer were travelling so someone else could get a shot. That was over 20 years ago and each time the boys from Jersey would visit Ken, inevitably they would inquire whether or not he had sent out any warning shots, a humorous connection with our customers. Ken was lucky in a sense, always managing to stay away from doctors and the hospital. Although three years ago he did have colon cancer, then he landed back in the hospital after having a stroke, where he was given two weeks to two months to live (he lasted almost two years). This news weighed heavily on Ken, I think he was hoping for a quick exit. Ken spent his second last summer in a place he loved, living in a log cabin on the shores of Ministikwan Lake, visiting with the campers and fishermen and watching the sun go down. As Ken was letting go, his daughter Donna sang his favourite songs, offering him calm and quiet company until he reached the other side to be with his wife and daughter Carol, who had gone before him. May the good Lord offer him peace and joy. Good hunting. |
