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Date: 1950

January 1950, started off very cold, with temperatures reaching -40 degrees Celsius. It was the practice of the Artic Ice Company to remove ice from the river at a point approximately where the White Mud River enters the N. Saskatchewan river. A service road was constructed on the river, starting just above the High Level Bridge, to give access to the site.

During the depression years, a toboggan slide was built at Capital Hill, which proved very popular. It was discontinued during WWII because many of our young men were away.

I was engaged to my future wife, Alice McDougall, and to celebrate her first day out after being confined for three weeks with pneumonia, I decided to look into the rumor that the toboggan slide was being rebuilt. The “ice-road” would offer the best access, so I drove down past the High Level and proceeded up the river. When we reached the point where the ice was being cut out, it was obvious that the road went no further and we would have to turn around.

There was a car parked there with the motor running. It was the watchman’s daughter bringing him his lunch. We passed the watchman nearby, with two heavy pails of ashes in his hands, which he was carrying to the riverbank. He made no effort to stop us as we passed. Coming to the end of the road, I made a “u” turn in front of the parked car and started down river.

All of a sudden the front of the car broke through the veneer of ice that had formed over night, and the car started to sink in the frigid water. We tried to open the front doors to escape, but the car had already sunk to the point where the ice jammed them shut. I yelled to Alice to get in the back seat and try the doors. She said she could not budge the back door either. I managed to get mine open just enough that I could put my own body part way out to prevent it closing. With some urgency, I told Alice to try and get out the narrow opening that existed. Although we both had on heavy winter overcoats, she managed to get by me and up onto the ice. I then climbed out and we walked only a short way before our clothing was frozen solid. I turned to look at the car. It was gone.

We were fortunate that the other car was there, and we climbed into the warm interior. The lady in the car drove us immediately to my home in the Highlands, where I told my dad that his car was at the bottom of the North Saskatchewan River.

We suffered no more than the shock of the event, and the cost of recovering the car, which was accomplished the same day.