The F.C. Hill Story
submitted by Frederick Clayton (Bill) Hill
I was born on December 14 , 1920. The first Child
of Roland and Amelia Hill. My early memories are of life on the
farm which was three miles from Medstead.
One incident I remember is the time I got lost. I was about four
years old. My dad went north across the coulee to Gus Carlsons
to see when the threshing crew were coming to our place. I followed
him but he didn't see me. When he came home, he found I was missing,
so he went looking and found me walking in a circle around a willow
bush and howling, as he would say.
One of the years when the crops froze so badly, my dad went to
Meota to thresh. I remember him bringing back the hayrack with
plenty of honey and jam for the winter. As the winter went by
I remember my brother, Terry, checking the cellar to see how many
jars of honey were left.
Another memory is the hailstorm of 1925. It knocked the shingles
off the house, broke windows, and killed all our chickens. I remember
having to sit up in a chair while my mother swept up the glass.
When my brother George, (Bud), was born , Dad had brought nurse
Drayton to our place. I went outside with my dad where he was
fixing the binder and we heard Bud's first cry.
When my mother died I was ten years old and there were five children
younger than I was.
When my sister Eileen, was in her high chair, I used to put my
finger on her nose and her mouth would pop open. It was a sad
day when my Aunt and Uncle came from Riverhurst to take Eileen
and my brother, Calvin, to help raise them. I was old enough to
remember the day very clearly.
Lily Jones worked at our place at this time, and I used to tease
her more than enough. One day she put a knife in the door to keep
me out, so I put a board over the chimney and smoked my sister
Enid and Lily out of the house. My sister Enid, being the oldest
girl, was left with a lot of responsibility.
We had lots to eat such as potatoes and salt pork in the summer,
and beef in the winter as it could be kept frozen.
My school days were spent at Marron school. My first teacher was
Miss Osser who boarded at our place. On my first day of school
she and I went to school with Topsey and the buggy. That day one
of the bigger boys spilled my cocoa. It was always understood
that you had to stick up for yourself so I tried to punch him
but he was bigger and the teacher soon put a stop to the tussle.
We usually walked to school and we were always barefoot in the
summer time. The two weeks holiday in the summer was no pleasure,
as I had to help dad put up the hay. The only reason I wanted
to go to school was to play ball, and also the fact that my dad
said I had to go to the school until I passed grade 8, even if
it took me until I was 80!
After I was finished school I went threshing every fall. My first
year of threshing was when I was 15 years old and that year we
put in twenty-eight days. Most of the threshers drew out money
for tobacco , etc.; but I saved mine so when threshing was over
that fall I had nearly $100. My dad had showed me how to pitch
bundles and I had a good appetite, which all helped me to survive
my first threshing days.
Then I bought a new sleigh from Barney Oxley, and a new set of
harness from John Wilson, a total of about $90 for both. My winters
were spent working in the bush. We hauled cord wood to the Birch
Lake siding, and ties and lobs to Soderberg's mill. We got $29
a car for block wood sawed at the siding. One year Alfred Miller,
Louie Christensen, and I were in the bush together. Usually the
first one back to camp, cooked the meal. When it was my turn I
put in the meat, carrots, and potatoes for stew. I also threw
in some beans, not realizing they should have been soaked first,
so when we ate the stew, the beans were still hard as bullets.
Louie said the germination in them hadn't even been killed yet.
There were always far-fetched bush stories too, such as the year
spring came so fast they had to gallop the horses to keep the
front bob on snow , the hind bob was in mud, and the dog was running
behind kicking up dust.
When our house burned my dad was in Regina and I was home alone.
It was a windy day in March and in about twenty minutes the house
was gone. I managed to save Dad's desk with some important papers,
and some bedding. Homer Wilson and Albert saw the smoke and came
to see if they could help. During all the excitement I had forgotten
about our house dog, and was relieved to find her right behind
my heels.
During my early farming years, I broke about 50 acres with 6 horses
and a 16 inch steel-beam brush breaker. Then I purchased a Harte
Parr tractor from the south, got a brush breaker and broke 50
more acres with it.
On November 17, 1948 I was married to Ruby Knutson. I purchased
buildings from Joe Raymond, three miles south of Medstead and
rented the land from the C.P.R.. Later I bought a half-section
in the same area from George Walker for $600.00, to be paid for
at $100.00 a year.
When my wife and I first farmed we had turkeys, sheep, chickens,
pigs, and milked cows by hand, and later milked twelve cows with
a milking machine and shipped cream.
One early morning, we looked out the window to see a coyote take
one of the full grown turkeys. Once some stray dogs killed and
mutilated ten or twelve of our sheep and I had to gather them
up on the stone boat. Then some of the chickens, smothered, and
one cold Christmas Eve, three sows all decided to have their little
ones, so all through the house creatures were stirring, as some
of the piglets had to be brought in and warmed. I drove a 1928
one and a half ton truck, model A, and it had one door missing.
This sounds like a farmers lament, but there were many happy occasions
to offset the disasters of the first years of farming. My wife
and I always seemed to be searching our pockets for money for
church collections, groceries, or gas, but times haven't changed
for us in that respect as we still do that today.
Our son Terrel was born in 1959.
In 1967, I got my leg caught in a power takeoff, and had to spend
several weeks in the hospital. The kindness of the people in the
area was evident, when many friends came and put in the crop.
It is great to live in a district where the spirit and cooperation
of the pioneers is still in existence.