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“But with love, we are creative. With it, we march tirelessly…we are able to sacrifice for others.”
-Chief Dan George-
It was July when I volunteered to join our parish’s Legion of Mary for our annual mission trip abroad. I was assigned to Canada to minister to the Cree Indians for a month. My group was one of several representing the Midwest. All groups were to meet in Minneapolis, Minnesota our rendezvous point before heading off to our various assignments.
The bus ride from Chicago to Manitowoc, Wisconsin was slow. It stopped in nearly every tiny town along the route. Hours later we pulled into Manitowoc a small lake front city north of Milwaukee. Two nuns met me at the bus station then drove me to their St. Paul the Apostle Parish. I spent the night in a large Victorian house adjacent to their convent in the country. Being a big city boy the quiet, pitch black night sky, combined with noises made by a very loud assortment of God’s creatures of the night took a bit of getting used to but somehow I managed to get a few hours of shut-eye.
The next day was Sunday. After Liturgy and a hearty all-you-can-eat lumberjack breakfast, I helped the nuns load our stuff in their car and started the long drive to the Twin Cities to link-up with the rest of the groups. The drive through Northern Wisconsin was breathtakingly beautiful. The rolling green hills of the countryside was indescribable. Reflecting on nature’s beauty one can easily understand why some of the world’s premier writers, artists, and thinkers were inspired to greatness after spending time in the country away from the madness of city life. Hours later, we arrived in the Twin Cities.
We spent the night at a private home. After breakfast the next day we assembled at St. Stephen’s church to meet the rest of the groups. After a brief prayer for a safe trip we boarded our cars and station wagons then started our long journey to our mission stations. Our first stop was Winnipeg, Canada.
The song ‘America the Beautiful’ came alive as we drove through the length of majestic Minnesota. Across the Mississippi at its beginnings was a tiny river wide as two small streams joined together. I looked out over the countryside its grandeur further enhanced by the Handel concert played over the radio made our trip all the more memorable.
It was sometime later when we drove through Fargo. The North Dakota landscape was scenic but flat. I only wished we could have spent a night under the panoramic big night sky of the Dakotas.
Our caravan of cars crossed the Canadian border without much ado. We arrived in Winnipeg early that evening. We bedded down for the night at some small motel near the heart of the city. At first glance this city appears ordinary like other cities. Winnipeg is located near the geographic center of North America. Though small by big city standards ‘Winnipeggers’ have lots to keep them busy besides work, ice hockey, and other outdoor activities. Home to the Royal Winnipeg Ballet and various cultural centers it was the only city to have hosted the Pan-American Games twice once in 1967 and again in 1999.
Canada is very large. The logistics are staggering. It took us many hours to drive from our initial border crossing point to Winnipeg. At a restaurant on the outskirts of Portage La Praire I foolishly let my stomach overrule my brain. In a fit of hunger for pancakes and bacon like a moron I accidentally left the car keys in the ignition then locked the door. Only a minor miracle enabled me to use a coat hanger to unlock the door through the small crack in the upper part of the window. We sped past Riding Mountain National Park past mighty Lake Winnipeg finally arriving in early evening in The Pas a small city half way through Manitoba.
Driving through The Pas to St. Mary’s Cathedral, we parked our cars then unloaded our luggage at the rectory building. The staff welcomed and showed us around the place and escorted us to our rooms. An hour later we had dinner. After we ate we had a meeting to choose our assignments. Using the ‘Eene-Meanie-Mighty-Mo’ method I picked Sturgeon Landing a small Indian village on the Saskatchewan border. I couldn’t sleep; I was anxious to get started.
Early next morning after breakfast we had Morning Prayer. Two women volunteers one a nun the other the daughter of a very well-to-do entertainment executive were to join me in Sturgeon Landing. We did some shopping to stock up on a month supply of food and other necessities. When we entered a grocery store an odd feeling came over me. At the time I couldn’t identify it. A strange sadness overwhelmed me. I didn’t tell the two women about my sudden mood swing and pretended nothing happened. We bought what we needed and quickly left.
Years after I left The Pas I discovered the source of my sadness. Hatred for the Native Peoples was intense. Being half-native myself explains the chilly reception I received in the store. Less than two months after departure, Helen Betty Osborne a young Native girl and aspiring teacher, was abducted, driven to the outskirts of The Pas where she was beaten, raped, then murdered by a car load of white teenagers. The more the poor girl screamed and pleaded for mercy the more her killers savaged her. They left her to slowly die in agony from her wounds alone in the freezing snow. The good citizens of The Pas knew the girls killers but did nothing.
The city hid the perpetrators from the law under a veil of silence that lasted 16 years after the killing. Thanks to the dogged persistence by Canada’s finest, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the murders were brought to trial. Ms. Osborne’s killers received light sentences and more than likely walking the streets as you read this article. The dead girl’s case is but a single incident of native women being violated in Canada. The book Conspiracy of Silence that later became a TV mini-series written by Lisa Priest is about the murder of Helen Osborne. I didn’t mingle much with the people of that city. To be continued in issue 456 Nov 1-15.