LIFE STORY OF EDWIN K BRANDT Selections for "Garden Hill Visitors" Facebook page

NOTE: Whenever you see ‘Edit by son Lorne:’ or (italic content) it is an addition made by Lorne to clarify or help explain things better.

I, Edwin Kornelius Brandt, was born on August 21, 1921 to my parents, John K. and Anna (nee Thiessen) Brandt in Altona, Manitoba. Dad had taken up the public school teaching profession. He was at this time taking special courses given by the Department of Education in Altona. Dad had taught in Saskatchewan in the Herbert area. This is where he met up with my mother, during the time he was boarding in the Thiessen home, my mother's parents. 

My mother’s home district, Greenfarm, Saskatchewan, gave Dad a call to come back to teach in their school. This was a country school, so they now provided a small house for the teacher and his family. This is where I spent my younger years. Where I began school along with a number of my cousins, even an aunt and two uncles. 

We were a mile from the only small country church in the area, with my Grandfather, Johann Thiessen, being the lay leader. No ordained ministers at that time. The group was mostly the Mennonite Brethren Conference. At my age of nine, a missionary from China, a Mr. Wiens, held special evening services. Special meetings were held for young people and children. It was during these meetings that I, with my brother Peter and others, accepted Jesus Christ as our personal Saviour. With en­couragements from my Mother and others, I was protected from many pitfalls of a person's younger years.

I am thankful to my Lord, this step of faith in Jesus Christ has kept me from ever taking a cigarette between my lips and never a glass of beer. Our parents, especially my Dad, believed in clean living and a clean tongue. Swearing was not permitted in school or on the school yard. How differ­ent it is today. 

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Living in the country with poor roads etc., it was not easy to earn any money. So, each year I would send for cards, at Christmas time, Valentine, Easter, and walk, or drive a bike if it was possible, to many farm homes and sell the cards. I know that a number of the farm people bought the cards, not because they needed them, but to help me. About a mile and a half away lived a widow and her son and daughter who were part native. Her husband had fought in the Riel Rebellion. She often told me stories about those times; she was an old lady of about ninety (she did not really know how old she was). She never used the cards, she even showed the cards to me she had bought the last time I had been there, laughed about it and bought some more.

Edit by son Lorne: Father completed some High School and three years of Bible School in Alberta (Prairie Bible Institute). He was baptized before leaving that school. Then, he spent a summer working for Canadian Sunday School Mission in the Giroux/Stuartburn/Vita area of southeastern Manitoba.

While in south-eastern Manitoba I had learned that they were looking for teachers to go north on Indian Reserves. This would be an alternative service to joining the forces (war was still on) [Edit by son Lorne: My father was a Mennonite by upbringing and belief. One of the central features of the Mennonite Christians is that they do not believe in the use of violence. Therefore, it was against my father’s faith to go to war. In fact, there was an agreement between the Mennonites and the Government of Canada under religious freedom that allowed Mennonites not to go and fight but to do some other form of service for the couontry instead, called ‘Alternative Service.’ The reason they were allowed to do this was because of their conscience because of their faith. Thus, they were called ‘Conscientious Objectors’ or ‘COs’.] I had a temporary postponement from army duty due to illness. But this could be revoked any time. I was concerned, for I had made a commitment to serve the Lord in full time service. So, when I took the Model A Ford (that I had been using for the Canadian Sunday School Mission work in southeastern Manitoba) back to Winnipeg, I checked this out regards going north. I was given the assurance that very likely I would be able to go north. The only hitch in all this was, if I would get my call for the army, I would have to come back at my own expense. But I was told there was a way around that: from the Selective Service Department I was told to make an appointment at the Provincial Court House for a hearing for a 'conscientious objector' (CO) status. As soon as I would have my CO. standing, they would have all the necessary papers ready for me to sign, and I would be on my way north. 

I made the appointment and had to come back to Winnipeg the next week. When I was called before three judges, I saw that they had a secretary taking notes of everything. So, I said to myself, I will say no more than asked for. Seeing that all I really wanted was my CO standing, one of the judges got rather angry; one of the others told him to keep his cool. It almost seemed a laughing matter the way those three carried on. Finally, one said, "What do you plan on doing when you get your C0? We have the authority to do as we see fit." That's when I told them that I was planning on flying north to teach in a school under the sponsorship of the United Church. Then one of the judges said, "Guess that's where I withdraw my membership.” “How are you so sure of going north,” they asked. I than told them that the Selective Service had all my papers ready, all they needed was my CO standing. This angered the judges, and one said, "That's not the first time Mr. Brown (he was the chief officer) had put one over on them." So, the one who seemed more at ease in the whole thing, took a sheet of 8 by 11 paper and wrote a big ‘CO’ on it, gave it to me and said to go to see Mr. Brown. I was relieved and glad to leave the court room. A few others that were there in the court room said that they had never experienced such a case. They marveled that I had gotten my CO paper. I knew God had ways of doing things and He answered my prayer. So, I went to see Mr. Brown, who signed the papers, congratulated me and I left. 

I went home to get ready, good winter clothes, my own bedding etc. Mom did a lot of sewing for me. Two days later we got the mail: what do you think I got, my call to enlist in the army, bus ticket, meal tickets and the works. What now? Dad said, “You have to go back to Winnipeg and see Mr. Brown; another trip to Winnipeg.  I came into Mr. Brown’s office, he was not in, but his secretary said she would look at my papers. She took the whole works and tossed them into the waste basket, said I should go home and go north, with all her good wishes. 

On September 2nd, 1943, my parents took me to Winnipeg where I was put up in a rooming house for the night. On September 3^rd(my Dad's birthday) early, I was taken with others on a small bus to Pine Falls, on the Winni­peg River. Here we all boarded a large single engine seaplane, a Bellanca. We were fifteen passengers, all our personal goods, some freight, with two crew members. That was the beginning of my experiences for the next number of years. 

We landed on Favorable Lake, Ont., near a Gold Mine. We here dis­embarked. Myself and a 12-year-old boy were put on another seaplane for the rest of the trip. We now travelled on a Fairchild single engine plane. After a lengthy trip, we landed on Island Lake at the dock of the Hudson's Bay Company. They handled the freight and mail. This was the end of my trip – no, not quite. A canoe came alongside of the dock, and after a few words between the Hudson's Bay man and the two natives, my things were put on their canoe and we took off across the lake to a small Island. The men used

their paddles, motors were hardly known. We landed at the small dock of the United Church Mission, which was the end of my journey. I had arrived and this is what would be my home for the next two years. 

The settlement here was known as Garden Hill Settlement. Arriving in such a northern settlement was a strange experience. It was getting dark, but there was no electricity, no gas or oil and no running water. You cooked your meals in a wood stove, you heated your house with wood. For light, you used a kerosene lamp or candle. You made sure your chimney on the lamp was clean, so you could get all the light possible. There were no roads and no cars, transportation was totally dependent on water travel, the canoe. When winter would come and the lakes and rivers would freeze over, you depended on dogs to pull your loads. This was the north beyond what we like to call civilization.

There were a hundred and one adjustments to make. The couple that were my hosts in this Mission House were the Bill Neufelds, from North Kildonan, Winnipeg. They had come there in spring, so they could tell me many things about that part of our 'now' world.

That first morning I needed to get my bearings. It was early September, but the weather was turning cool. I was living on an Island; this meant I would have need of a boat or canoe to go anywhere. In some way, the school had become owner of an old skiff, a local built flat bottom boat. It needed to be put in the water, so the wood could expend and the cracks closed up. I used a borrowed canoe the first few days, while I was trying to get that old boat waterproof. 

It was a short distance across from the island to the main land, but the channel was deep and it depended on the wind; the water could flow one way or the other. The school as well as the Mission Church were across the channel on the Reserve. When I arrived at the school and opened the door to look inside, it was a dismal sight; the school had not been used for a year-and-a-half. Not only was it dusty and musty, but infested with mice. It seemed every drawer I pulled out or every cupboard door I opened, there were mice nests. I couldn't remember having ever had to do with so many mice and their nests. In all this I found a fair amount of school supplies, but much of it was chewed up. The mice seemed to have had a real hunger for wax crayons. Those crayons were in a real mess. It took a lot of sorting out, but there was a goodly share of useable stuff left. 

Finally, I found enough in paper, scribblers, some pencils and crayons to get me started. The various 'Dick and Jane' sets of readers were in boxes; they had not been damaged too badly. There were enough for the first 4 or 5 grades; I was able to salvage some arithmetic spellers and language study books. I was   amazed at how many books and other supplies they must have had. All this had been shipped in by Indian Affairs Ottawa, and I was sure they had no idea what had become of it. So, after cleaning house, sweeping and dusting, it didn't look too bad. There was a round-bellied stove in the middle of the classroom. I found a fairly good pail and a dipper, the water fountain I assumed. I found no drinking cups. I wondered whether they all drank out of the dipper from the pail? What should I do for cups? I gathered tin cans, soldered handles on them, there!

In all, there were desks and seats for 32 pupils, some single and some double. During this time, when I wasn’t cleaning up, some children came to look. I felt they had come to 'look over' the new teacher. I tried to have a conversation with them, but they either would not or could not speak English. I of course could not understand a word of their Cree. Finally, a girl of about 12 years old let on that she could understand a fair bit. I told her who I was and she was quick to tell the other kids what I had said in Cree. I told them that as soon as the school was cleaned up and as soon as we would have some cordwood for the heater we would have school. 

Well, news travels fast, the next day it seemed everyone on the reserve knew about me and what I was up to. So, some men and some women came to look. Again, I tried to impress on them, that they must supply the wood for the stove. Whether they understood, I wasn't sure, but the next day when I came across the channel to the school, there was a small pile of wood. But it was green, and how do you heat a school room with green wood? 

So, I began to look around for some dry wood. The woods began about some 200 feet away. A couple of boys, ages 10 to 12, soon came to help. I visited a few homes near the school and encouraged them to bring wood to school. The excuse for the men was, they were getting ready to leave for their winter traplines, they were busy. The hunters and trappers would leave each fall to their winter trapping places, some 30 to 30 miles away. They took with them food rations obtained from the fur traders. Some took their families with them; a number of them left them on the reserve. This meant the women and their children had to fend for themselves, cutting wood to keep their fires going, trap some small local animals or snare rabbits for food. 

Often one would not see these men till Christmas time. They would then come back with their catch of furs, to help pay their accounts at the fur traders and restock their supplies for their return trip. If their families were on the reserve, they would spend Christmas with them, and leave after New Years’. This was all part of their life.

To begin school was a scary preposition. I was sure that every move I made was noticed by all the little eyes that looked at me. Discipline was not a problem, they all were afraid of the teacher.

School opening was announced and on that first day, 19 children came. It was quite a day. We spent some time in trying to get the names, at least their first given name. The surnames were slow in coming. In spite of the fact that adultery was not an acceptable way of life, many of the children thought it rather funny for me to try and get their family names straight. Though some of the children came from the same household, same family, they did not have the same fathers. It seemed best to simply register them with their first names and leave it for now. Next was to try and get their ages, and I soon found that we had children from about 6 years to 13 years of age. Once that was settled, came the task of figuring out just where to put them as to grades or classes. Only two or three could make out some of the words in the simplest readers. Arithmetic was a little differ­ent; they had learned to count. The 1,2,3 figures were understandable for them, but what to do with those figures could become a problem. To get them to understand addition, subtraction etc., was another story. 

I very soon could see that using the Dick and Jane series for readers was out of the question. A car, a bus, a train meant nothing to them. They knew the water transportation and winter dog team sledding. I was stuck - but I felt that God gave me wisdom to do something completely off the record. I got a scribbler, used stick figures and tried to show words like, 'sit', 'stand', 'run', 'jump', 'catch', etc. Then I cut out pictures of 'dog', 'sleigh', 'canoe' etc. But what were they? Because a couple of the kids had a bit of English, I tried to get them to tell me what those words or pictures were in Cree. That really got them going, and soon we had a fairly extensive list of words which they know knew what they were and tried to pronounce them in English. Whether six years old or thirteen years old, they were all in the game, learning. A stranger walking into the classroom at such a time would have wondered what was going on. Everybody talked. 

After handing out a scribbler to each child, I worked on the fact that each one should print his or her name on the cover. That was not an easy task. They all seemed to have their own names, which we would call nicknames, that which was used in their homes. Those were not their real given names, but you try and sort it all out if you can't speak their language nor they yours. Then, as they pronounced their names, I tried to write them on the blackboard so they could copy them. You can be sure, some of those names on their scribblers did not look like what I had written. But they will learn is what I thought, even though slowly. Like the boy they all called, Johndennie, but what I found out later was that his name was John Henry. We had a Mary, Sarah, Clara, John, James, Peter etc. It showed that most of the names these children had were names from the Bible. The Church was an important part of the peoples’ life. It was the church missionaries that brought religion, church, schools and helped to get them the medical. So, the Bible was not an unknown book.

James Evans, a Methodist missionary from England had come to these areas years before and studied the language enough to be able to talk it. He is the one that invented the Cree syllable system and put the Cree language into writing. The language system consisted of small figures, little triangles, little curves, dots and lines. Evans found that there was a system to the total sound structure, and made a simple set of these figures so that anyone could rather easily learn them and thus be able to read Cree. 

To the Cree people themselves, the reading of the Cree Syllabic system was an art they were fast losing. The children learned some of the Cree words with the regular alphabet (I will attach a complete syllabic system of the Cree language on the next page). 

Back to happenings at school. The Indian Affairs Department sent in a number of large boxes of 'Eskimo Biscuits' for the children. These were vitimin-enriched biscuits. I gave each child one of these each lunch period. But when the weather got cold, I felt this was not enough for them; they got no lunch at home. So, I requested from the Indian Affairs Agent permission to use some of the relief goods for lunches. From those relief goods, I was able to glean 'rolled oats', 'strips of bacon', 'white beans,’ rice and some 'powdered milk'. So, each cold day while the class was in session, a pot of 'mush' was cooking. The children had to bring their own dishes and spoons. Lunch time became a great feast for them. This did not only help their physical make-up but it sure helped in attendance. Nobody wanted to miss the meal. 

Progress was very slow. Some of the older children did catch on to the English and could read fairly well, but some really did not understand what they were reading. They memorized a lot of the words. I also tried to teach them to be clean, take care of their books etc. I got a good supply of covers, so each hard-covered book was covered and on it the name of the book and their own name.

Jackets and big boots had to be carefully put in order. They loved singing, so a number of good songs were taught. I tried to teach them two-part harmony, but that was not an easy task. They could not read music, and the music scales were another hard item to teach.

To make Christmas cards or prepare for it was not too bad. They knew all about Christmas and Santa. When it came to Valentine’s Day, they were not too sure as to what to do with cards I helped them to create. For a boy to give a Valentine to one of the girls became a real joke. So, some of those things were best just left alone.

You can be surest that the first year was an eventful year. Who learned more, myself or the children, is hard to tell. In those years, the T. Eaton Company did a lot for needy people. I made a list of all the boys and girls and their ages and sent it to Eaton's. They would make up gifts wrapped in Christmas paper with writing on them whether boy or girl and approximate ages. They were small items, but this way each child got a pretty wrapped gift at Christmas. Everyone seemed to enjoy and be happy.

A task that I got involved with, and did not enjoy was to try and get rid of 'lice¹ most of the children had. I inquired about it and the Medical Department of Indian Affairs sent in a lotion I should use. This meant, if their hair were rather long, it had to be cut, then washed and the lotion applied. Then their heads had to be covered with a 'cheese cloth' to keep the lotion content to do its thing. I was thankful that I never contracted lice during those tasks. The children took all this in good faith, though I never did hear what or how the parents felt.  Being 'wards of the Government', they were used to this kind of treatment.

The Indians were wards under the Government according to the treaties they had made years ago. But why should they complain? They got every­thing given to them, schooling, with all the supplies, all medical help, whether medicines locally or be flown out to Hospitals, rations in vouchers to the local trading posts when they were sick and could not go out fishing or hunting. They got their nets which they used for fishing the lakes. The parents were given enough cod-liver oil to do them daily. Those that went to school got it daily, administered by the teacher. In my 20 years among the natives, I have signed, not only hundreds of dollars of vouchers for food, clothing, plane rides to hospitals etc., but thousands of dollars. The people paid no taxes, whatever we handed out came from tax dollars through the Indian Affairs. When they built a house (of logs) they got the windows, and roofing supplied from Indian Affairs. They would get permission to build a certain number of houses per summer. Supplies were then shipped in to finish the structures.

In spring, everyone would go out 'rat' (muskrat) trapping. So, school would shut down. Good trappers would come in to the Trading Posts with hundreds of muskrats. Since school was closed, the teacher could do other things. So, during these two months, I got an invitation to come down the Lake some 25 miles to help Austin and Gladys Huchkinsons. They operated a small Fur Trading outlet, associated with Canadian Fish Company. So, on a beautiful sunny day, they had sent out a young native man with a dog team to pick me up. This would be a new adventure for me. The Trading Post was situated at the Island Lake Gold Mines, which had just that year closed down. Austin and Gladys had three little girls, ages from three to seven years old. They also had a native girl working for them as a house maid. The ride for those 25 miles seemed long, since I ran about half the way.

The young man was not very obliging; he was not in favour of me coming there. The maid that was working as house maid was his girlfriend, and he thought he would lose her to me, so he was not very nice on the trip. When I told this to Gladys upon arriving there, she sure gave the young native a calling down. Upon arriving there, I also found out that the Hutchkinson's had another couple working for them, the Harts, who were part native. They had a small boy about age 7.

My number one task was to have regular school classes with the three children, two girls and one boy. It was not easy since it was in their home. We got along fairly well, since they were well-behaved children. I mainly worked on the three R's, so they would know numbers and able to grasp some reading. Besides that, in the afternoons I helped in the Trading Post. This gave me an opportunity to meet people and learn some of the ins and outs of the Fur Trade. The majority of furs of course were muskrats. The larger furs like fox, mink, wolves etc. had been caught during the winter months. We did get in some beaver, squirrels and rabbits. Shortly after arriving here, the warmer weather came and the ice soon was unsafe for travel. Austin had obtained a machine on skis and driven with a large propeller driven by a large motor.

Life went right along. The days were mild, with a lot of sun. The snow was fast disappearing, and the ice o£ the lake was very poor. Something that was new to me, was that the ice 'candleized', as if the ice became thousands of long ice pieces, like candles. This of course was unsafe for travel. As the ice melted along the shore lines, the ice began to move

with the wind, pushing large ice pieces on shore. It was shortly before the ice gave way, that Austin wanted to make one more trip to a trapping camp. He took with him the native chief. Well, they did not make it over a weak spot and broke through the ice. Later the chief bragged that was a cold bath, the first for that winter. On early morning ice, the machine was pulled out and brought home. During this time of year, travel became almost impossible. No planes could come, since they landed with skis on ice. So, there was no mail or freight service either. Since we did not have telephones or two-way radios in those days, news from the outside was cut off.

As part payment for helping this family, they gave me a canvas covered canoe. This would make travel across the small channel for school much better. I enjoyed that canoe, and spent many hours paddling about. All to soon my time spent at the Hutckinsons was over and I was taken back to the little Island, known as Mission Island. The ride back was by canoe with a motor.

School was opened again and enrollment was a bit better than the year before. For me it was much easier, and the children knew me. There were a few new kids and a few others didn't show up; guess they stayed out with their dad trapping and spring fishing. Some had remembered a fair bit, but others had forgotten most of what they had learned. So, I had to begin all over again with them. I continued my own word lists and used the readers for extra reading. The days were longer and the weather was warmer.

School would carry on all summer. During the month of July was what was known as 'Treaty Time'. This is when all the natives of that reserve would gather on the open area near the school. They would pitch their tents, usually near to each other in extended families. Soon it looked like a 'tent city', especially at night, when they had some sort of light in their tents and an open fire nearby. No, there was no hydro, they used candles or oil lamps. There were people, children and dogs everywhere. The camp fires were used for their daily cooking.

On a set day, a plane would arrive; on it was the Indian Agent, his clerk, the Doctor and his helper, and of course the R.C.M.P. in. his bright red coat. They were there for three days. Everyone had to be registered and every man, woman and child received a crisp new five-dollar bill. The Indian agent would talk to the men (not women) about assistance they could get, health care and what they needed to do for the school. Also, that they would have to again haul the goods - like medicine, school supplies etc. from Norway House by canoe. If weather was in their favour, they could make a return trip in ten days. The second day of Treaty, a second plane came in with the X-ray crew. They brought in a portable X-ray and power plant to run it. By this time, the Doctor had most of the people lined up who should be first to have their X-rays taken. This was to check for tuberculosis (T.B.) among the natives. Many did not want to be x-rayed, for they feared that if they were found with T.B., they would be flown out and maybe never return. So, the red coated R.C.M.P. made his rounds to seek out those the Doctor had on his list to be X-rayed. At a later date, a plane would, come in and pick up those that were suspects for T.B. This also became part of our job, to help them to go. Overnight the 'treaty bag' with all the cash was stored in our house. The R.C.M.P. brought it to our house and picked it up the next morning.

During 'Treaty Time' there were all sorts of activities, such as running races, sack races, canoe races, tug-of-war and wheel-barrow races. They all seemed to have a gay time. There was no school during this week, which gave me a good chance to see what was going on.

School had to carry on. Just before treaty and after, since most of the people were near the school, many of them wanted to attend. Well, how much I was able to teach them or they learned is hard to say. I had as many as seventy-five kids in school at one time in 32 seats. Well, they came to see, and everyone got one of the Eskimo biscuits at noon and when they left after school. That was a great attraction. After a while most of the people left the 'treaty grounds' so school attend­ance laid off to the regulars.

My second year now, I did a lot of visiting. I also visited a fair bit with the Fur Traders, the Hutckinsons. They were always ready and willing to give me rides on their boat. Their store was about a mile east; on another Island. They had moved there in spring, from the mine site some 25 miles away. Now their 2 daughters and their cousin also attended school with me.

October 22, 1943, the Neufelds (with whom I had been staying) had a baby daughter. They did not arrive back at Island Lake till by plane December 18.

It was with mixed feelings when I made the decision to leave Island Lake, at least for a two-months holiday. The decision to leave early came when we got word that the last 'mail plane' before spring break­up would arrive March 21st,1945. All good-byes had to be said, things at school cleaned up and all reports and paper work done.

My plans were to fly to the railway at Ilford, Manitoba and go home the next day from there by train. The plane arrived at 2:30 p.m. After unloading and preparing for take off, with a final wave of the hand, we were off. 

We touched down at Oxford House and God's Lake and arrived at Ilford just as it was getting dark. It was a cold night, we were finally taken to the Hotel by a pick-up. When arriving there, I was told the train had passed through the day before and the next train would be one week from then. 

After spending a chilly night in that Hotel, the next morn­ing I walked the mile to the shack that was considered the airport. I watched the plane come in for more freight. I helped them load, nothing else to do. The plane made two trips that day and came back for the night. Since I had helped the pilots load when they came in, I had some of their lunch and they offered me to sleep on one of the bunks. The next morning, I walked back to the Hotel and picked up my suitcase after I had helped them reload the plane. When they came back, after a quick lunch, and loading the plane, they said I could go with them south. I was the only passenger.

When landing at Shamattawa, just over the line into Ontario, there were a fair number of boxes to be unloaded. Next, after taking off, we landed again in God's Lake to pick up some freight and the mail. We flew over Island Lake to Favorable Lake, Ontario. Here fifteen passengers with their things were loaded who were all left at Berens' River and we continued on to Lac Du Bonnet. After checking out things the pilots were asked how they could have a passenger from Island lake when they had not stopped there on their return trip. The head pilot just said "Don't ask too many questions" and the subject was dropped!

After sorting things out, now quite late, we were driven by special taxi to Winnipeg, where I still was able to catch a bus for home, which was the Burwalde School, north of Winkler (Winkler is about 75 miles southwest of Winnipeg. This school mentioned was at the time a country school where my grandfather was teaching.). This was a Saturday night, so I sure surprised my parents and family. Having come through Winnipeg with my northern clothes (beaded Indian parka) and all the traffic and people on the streets, was a scary entrance into civilization. But I got through it all and thank my God for helping me on the way.

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