Chapter Three: Establishing the Hay River Chapel
We started Sunday school in our little house during the winter of 1950 and the room was packed with around 25 children. On the Sunday evenings we would have a service in which only a few adults would attend, but during those winter months we made some wonderful friends. ... They became some of our most cherished and closest friends.
Teaching Sunday school and other work with children, such as Ken’s scout troop, was an excellent way to
connect with Hay River families. I brought my Sunday school class outside that first winter, 1949-50, for an
historic photo—the first Pentecostal Sunday school group in the Northwest Territories. (3.1)
Time to Build
In early spring of 1950 the days were lengthening, bright and sunny. Ken decided it was time to clear the snow off the lot next to our cottage for a church building. Logs were peeled and hauled in for the foundation. He was able to hire two men to help him through the construction. As for me, I didn’t sit idle. My job was to feed the fellows their lunches at noon, and sometimes their suppers. As this was all going on I found myself feeling nauseous and food did not appeal to me. I made a visit to our neighbour lady, a former nurse, and told her how I was feeling. Right away she knew the problem, and it wasn’t a problem at all. There was a “little one” on the way! In spite of how I was feeling, I continued cooking for the men until the construction was completed.
The foundation of the chapel was laid in the spring of 1950. (3.2)
Later in the spring of 1950, the church walls are up. Our honeymoon cottage that Ken built in 1949 stands
to the left. (3.3)
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From Chapter Six: Into the Sixties....
The Hay River Flood of 1963
The spring of 1963 was a time of uncertainty as we had just gone through a very cold winter in the North while down south (geographically “up south”), Alberta had a very early warm spell in March and April and the snow and ice there were melting quickly. The water in the Hay River and its tributaries in northern Alberta was rapidly accumulating and heading north, downstream, to the mouth of the river where it empties into Great Slave Lake. But with the persisting freezing cold, the ice along the northern part of the river was thick, as was the ice on the lake. Signs of spring were nowhere to be found north of the border.
We were awakened early one morning with a knock at the door with our neighbour, Phillis Smales (McCordic) announcing that the ice on the river was breaking up. This occurrence in the North commonly is called simply “break-up.” She suggested we jump in the car to go see the spectacle. I woke the kids and off we went down to the river, about three blocks or so from our house. We drove over to where friends from the church, the Bodvarsons, lived, close to the river bank, and then drove out toward the West Channel, a fishing community about three miles along the lake shore. Many other townsfolk were doing the same. Close to the river we could see the water rising quickly, and as there were a number of dogs and dog houses close to the water, Ken and Dr. Penny began to untie them so they would not drown in the rising water and ice floes. After about an hour or so we headed home, but by the time we arrived water was already coming in our back yard. You could clearly see it pouring in. Knowing this was getting serious, I jumped out of the car as it was parked on the road out front on a little higher ground, and rush into the house to grab what I could. Not having time to think, I ran upstairs to the kids’ room and pulled out a drawer or two and dumped everything into shopping bags. I also had a clothesline full of laundry that had just dried, so I quickly took this off the line and stuff everything into a bag. By the time I finished grabbing what I could, I had to wade in ice cold water up to my knees to get to the car. As it turned out, we never went back home for over three weeks! We did, however, have plenty of socks for the kids since this is what happened to be in the drawers I emptied!
In less than a day, our town was submerged in several feet of water with large chunks of ice floating freely through the yards and along the streets. Our new house was on pilings and a little higher off the ground so we had a bit more time to move furniture, books and other items to the upstairs or to the tops of tables and counters or on top of Ken’s desk in his office. Ken and a handy man for the Mission, Henry Norn, worked hard that morning. Judging by the high water marks on our walls, we had about five feet of water in our living room.
….
McGee’s house that popped out of its basement can be seen a little tipped on its side, center left in the photo. Some folk in the
water on the street are trying to get a closer look. (6.2)
Another interesting situation developed. Not only did one or two homes pop out of the ground, houses and other structures began floating around as water coursed through the town. Our new house was firmly fixed to the foundational pilings so it did not move, but the church next door floated across the street to the neighbours who happened to be named, John and Mary Pope. So, the Pentecostal Church ended up in the Pope’s yard! The Legion Hall, a popular dance and drinking establishment in town, was located on the property right behind the church facing the next street over. It floated into the church yard, all in all, an interesting rearrangement.
Though the water had receded considerably the third and fourth days of the flood, this section of the main street still shows the
water flowing freely past some warehouses and the BA gas station in the distance. Notice how buildings and vehicles are
scattered randomly. (6.3)
The Yellowknife Transportation building close to the river shows the water has dropped a foot or so, but this photo gives a
good indication of the amount of ice that flowed through town, adding to the devastation. (6.4)
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