Can’t Say I’ve Ever Been a Jamaican Bobsledder

Can’t say I couldn’t be.

Can say I wouldn’t want to be.

The first statement, a double negative. The second statement, a double positive.

Did you take the time to watch this closing clip of Cool Runnings?

Apart from being filmed in Alberta, neighbouring province to the west of Gravel Roads. Apart from starring John Candy, the last of his films released in his lifetime. Apart from featuring the first and only raw egg as a major player in a major movie  —  to the best of my knowledge  — as a good luck charm.

The movie is all about starts and finishes, and more starts and finishes, and more starts and finishes.

Saskatchewan circa 1930

My father immigrated from Ukraine arriving in Saskatchewan, in the dead-of-winter, 1927. Not unlike the Jamaicans arriving in Alberta, in the dead-of-winter, 1988. It was a shock to both parties.

In the winter of 1929 I looked after some stock for Kelly Aziz and in 1931-1932 earned a wage of $10-$20 a month from R.H. Reeve in Dafoe as a farm labourer. By 4:00 a.m. porridge, milk, eggs, butter, and bread were on the table for breakfast. By 7:00 a.m. the 10 horses had been fed and harnessed. We were ready for the day ahead. Source: One Man’s Voice.

In the spring of 1930, as relayed by my father, he received his first lesson in mechanized farming. Mr. Rizik introduced him to the “seeder”, a metal trough equipped with tilling spades. He and Mr. Rizik filled the seeder with wheat seed. And hooked it up to the horses. He was instructed to drive the field in a circular fashion, outside in. Seeding as he went.

My father was so impressed. And proud to be the first of the hands to be entrusted to do so. He drove that horse and seeder from sun-up ’til sun-down. Seeded half the field. So wanting to thank Mr. Rizik for his faith in a young immigrant worker.

Mr. Rizik stopped by at the end of the day to check on my father. He complimented him on his work ethic, not stopping for lunch, or dinner, or coffee, or water, other than for the horses. Then he pointed out that the seeder needed to be refilled after being emptied, and needed to be checked frequently for said reason.

Which meant Dad drove and drove and drove, however diligently, from sun-up ’til sun-down. For the most part with an empty seeder.

Was Mr. Rizik angry?

No. He patted my father on his tired, drooping shoulders and said something along the lines of “I should have explained it better. Tomorrow is another day”.

So the story went. So the story I choose to believe.

Seeding as you go.

Our daily lives are filled with many starts and finishes. Many false starts and many false finishes.

Many mis-directions. Many well-intentioned empty seeders. And much forgiveness. Above all forgiveness.  And rightly so.

We know that tomorrow is another day.

Until it isn’t.

Me? I’m seeding Gravel Roads. And you?

Sanka, Ya Dead?

A teaser.

Which is where we started

Watch the first clip. It’s the epitome of “seeding as you go”.

Still in disbelief? Then you’re on your own. Lovingly, but on your own.

With or without the applause.