I remember, as probably others do, of a night in winter when we had gone to church to some function and a blizzard developed. We were not able to go home and someone suggested we go to Mr. Ainley’s store and spend the night. We made coffee and sandwiches and played games until morning.
One Saturday morning Rosemary Trackwell and I started the hike to my cabin. We had gone about four miles when we saw a wagon approaching. The two men stopped and asked us if we wanted a ride. Rosemary was getting tired so we climbed up on the high spring seat atop several side boards. We had not gone far when we noticed a motorcycle coming, (an almost unheard of thing in those days). We asked the driver if his horses would be afraid of the machine and he said he did not think so.
When that motorcycle got closer to us, those horses when crazy. The driver was thrown from the wagon and the other man jumped out, leaving Rosemary and I stranded in the racing wagon, pulled with wild, runaway horses. I saw we were headed toward a deep coulee and I yelled for Rosemary to jump.
We leaped from the wagon and I hit the ground with such force that I just doubled up. I could not get my breath and they carried me up to the hotel at Carter. I was put to bed where I remained for the day. I did not seem to be hurt, but I was in shock.
The horses had veered their course and straddled a barb wire fence, and finally hit a telephone pole. One horse was so badly cut from the fence that it died.
I had such wonderful neighbors. The nearest was Mrs. James Cullen from Wisconsin. We had an understanding - if I needed anything I would hang a white sheet outside my house. Some other good neighbors were the Jim Morarity’s from Chicago. Little Mrs. Morarity never quite adjusted to the rugged life. She was always wishing she could be walking down Madison Avenue in a white suit with a bouquet of violets pinned to her lapel.
One winter’s day after a big blizzard when through, when the snow was very deep, she saw me walking across the country to Carter and remarked to her husband, “I do not believe that Miss Carr has any feeling, going out on a day like this”. What she did not know was that Miss Carr had to sit in the dark the night before because she was out of coal oil.
Take a look at my paintings: davidmarchant2.ca
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