A pioneer family's story about early Edmonton: We Never Locked Our Doors, by Kathleen Rutledge
Born just before the First World War, Kathleen recalls her Edmonton childhood of horse-drawn wagons, bob-sleds, wooden sidewalks and never a dull moment.
Date: 1905 - 1915
My parents, Mary Elizabeth Maloan and Robert Swadel Robertson married in Carberry, Manitoba on June 18, 1905. They moved to Edmonton. Dad was manager of Alberta Lumber Co., later the lumber yard was called Armitage and McBain, on Jasper Avenue and about 93 Street. They moved to B.C. for a short time and came back to Edmonton, where Dad got a job with the Alberta Government as a bookkeeper/auditor. This took him to different villages in the North, where there was a Sheriff's office, to audit their books. He built our home in 1907 at 7824 Jasper Ave. It was the first home in this district. It was a large, ten room house. They had one son when they built. Eventually there were five children, I was the forth, the only girl. The Federal Penitentiary was on land between 84th Street and the Latta bridge (91 Street ?) on Jasper Avenue. We often saw the prisoners travelling in little coal cars on tracks which went under Jasper Avenue and came up again on the hill and finally disappeared under the river. The men worked in the coal mine (there were several coal mines under us).
The portal of one mine came up in Rat Creek Ravine, (which was behind our house) and the coal wagons had a trail up the river bank, about half way along what is now called Kinaird Park, and followed along in front of our house. The road was straight gumbo, and when it rained it was very soft and muddy. Naturally, the teamsters would cut new paths for their wagons, but when they came so close to our house that their wheels were actually brushing our front steps, Dad put up a pole fence along our property line - much to the chagrin of the teamsters!
The mine closed but we used their hill for many winters, sliding down on a bob sled. A bob sled is a 2 x 12 plank, with a small sled fastened securely on the back and another small sled attached to the front by a large bolt which would allow the driver to steer the bob sled. Six or more kids could have a glorious ride! We had a wonderful childhood. Three generations of our family have played in that ravine and riverbank. We attended Cromdale school, which was a shiplap sided house, with two large rooms, grades one to five. Then we went to Alex Taylor for grades six to eight, one mile away. We always walked home at lunch time. The weather never stopped us. Long underwear, high stockings, moccasins and warm coats and scarves, etc. We were certainly bundled up, but we went to school!
One noon, walking home from school along the 'Penn Stretch' I saw a large black tower of smoke coming from the direction of our home. It was 'The Old Mill' which was burning. This was in Borden Park. It was an entertainment facility. A long, covered water way, which was well tarred with pitch, and carried enough water so that flat bottomed boats could float along. The water was kept moving, and there were interesting things in the lighted windows along the way. One place there was a donkey, which kicked when the boat touched a certain wall. This was a grand place for lovers, except that the boat would suddenly come into a lighted portion. I believe the rides were 5 cents or possibly 10. It was never rebuilt after it burned down.
In June, 1915 the only serious flood happened in Edmonton. I remember being held in some man's arms and seeing a small structure float down the river with a chicken on the roof. Most of the lower parts of the city were flooded.
Dad has a horse and buggy. Water was delivered by a tank wagon. We had a large metal tank in the basement, and a cistern also for rain water. A pump for rain water was beside the sink in the kitchen for some years after the city water was piped in. People started building about this time and we didn't have as much territory for roaming about as we had had.
There was a wooden sidewalk down our street, build with 2 x 4s about four feet wide. Any irregularities on the ground was bridged over. These made lovely hiding places for hide and seek; also the bees would sometimes take up residence. Further up the street there was a three-plank walk, which went around View Point. One year we had a plague of tent caterpillars, which were so numerous that even the trains were slowed up because of them making the tracks slippery. We kids had lard pails with turpentine in the bottom, and we collected five cents for every pail full we turned in. It was interesting riding our bikes on that three plank walk!
Eventually there were three outdoor swimming pools - South side, West end and Borden Park. I learned to swim when I was eight years old. When I could dog paddle about eight strokes, the guard, Dave Sissons, allowed me to go to the deep end, grabbing the side rail every so often. The family, (without Dad) would go swimming at 6 am for a nickel each. When they noticed we addressed Mother as 'Mom', they charged her 10 cents. Before that we kids swam in a cement bottomed structure that later became the duck pond when there was a zoo in Borden Park.
I left McDougall school in my last year there to take a job in the City License Department, City Hall, on 99 Street. (This was depression time, and jobs were thankfully accepted) Thomas McCallum was our boss, and Albert Figg and Roy Foster were the rest of the staff. We licensed dogs, bikes, (we took the serial number, the make, colour, and license number, owners name and address. There were very few lost or stolen bikes that were not returned to their owners.) Bake shops, butcher shops, fortune tellers, peddlers, horses, etc., etc. I was there seven years - started at $50.00 a month.
I don't remember the exact year that the following happened, but it would be easy enough to find out, because Mr. Baker, who was an alderman, was acting mayor when the elected mayor was out of town for a time. Mr. Baker had a home in the Highlands and the thought was that a scenic road through the river valley would save driving time, as well as being very aesthetic. A road was cut from 82 Street and Jasper, down the riverbank, through a luscious high bush cranberry patch, to tie up with one that served the Highland Golf Course. Grading was done and heavy timbers were set on the river side of the road with holes bored through the toe ends to carry a heavy cable, which was supposed to keep the unwary from going over the side. Cement curbs were put on the steep 82 Street part. It was very handy in many ways - until the first rain downpour. The whole entrance to the road collapsed and slid down and that was the end of 'Baker's Folly'. Unfortunately, the name stayed for many years. Bits of cement and cable and posts can still be seen on this site. Our high bush cranberries never did come back. (Every late summer we would go down and fill a copper wash boiler with the cranberries, which made wonderful jelly.)
It is easy to ramble on, remembering different things - about the time the AWOL soldier (W.W. 1) hid in our house and when Mother found him (Dad was out of town up North) he was scared and dirty. Being Mother, she scolded him a bit and fed him and gave him and old suit of Dad's, told him to take a bath and to go to sleep, and because the uniform was dirty, she burned it in the furnace! Mother was very naïve. She saw the problem and fixed it. When the officers came to arrest the young man, they were horrified that she had burned the 'King's Uniform'! Well, she said she didn't think the King would be interested in it because it was dirty!
Our postman, Mr. Greenwood, delivered mail twice a day and once on Saturday. He would pick up any letters that Mother had to mail. A local letter was 2 cents and out of town was 3 cents. If it was mailed in the morning it was delivered in the afternoon! Once when Mother had to sign something that Mr. Greenwood brought, she was in the midst on bathing me, so she handed me wrapped in a towel, to him while she signed the form. Now that was a real postal service!
We had an opera company in Edmonton that put on Gilbert and Sullivan light operas. Dad was always in the chorus, so we had a good grounding in many of these musicals. I remember when Marion Anderson came to town to sing a concert. She had a beautiful contralto voice - but she was black. The Women's Musical Club tried to get a room for her at the MacDonald Hotel - but they could not accept her because of her colour! One of the ladies was glad to offer her accommodation. Thank goodness Edmonton had grown up a bit since then. What a glorious voice that woman had! I attended most of the musical events that happened in the city - in the cheapest seat! A wonderful, carefree, love filled life. Of course, our Lord played an important part in our home and activities. Most people, at that time, had a living faith. Integrity and honour were part of everyday life. We never locked doors. We never knew we were hard up, because everybody was in the same situation. Many people would come to the door with cards of pins and needles to sell. I still have some of those cards of needles! Many men were fed sandwiches on our back porch.