Closing Chapter

First of all, there is more to the story about Rufus and his real father, Fred Alnander.

In 1974, at the age of 58 and after an extensive search, Rufus received word that he had an uncle who was a professional paint artist living in Sweden and his name was Fritzoff Alnander!  Dad wrote  to his Uncle with the address given, introducing himself and asking him where his natural father was and whether he was still alive or not.  When Fritzoff responded by mail, his response was in Swedish!   Dad could not translate and so Rufus and Stella naturally headed off to see Sig and Erna since Sig was Swedish.  Sig translated and in his letter, Fritzoff announced that Rufus's father was still alive and living in Naples, Florida!  

Rufus thanked Fritzoff in his response and then wrote a letter to his father, Fred Alnander, but it took awhile to get a response from Fred. For you see, Fred had put his relationship with Emma behind him as he became married himself with two children, now middle aged. He also had to explain to his wife, who did not know that he had an illegitimate son, and so needed a little time! Further mail correspondence occurred with both and it was always Frtizoff needing someone to translate Rufus's letter and Sig needing to translate Fritzoff's letter to Rufus!  Frtizoff said that he was planning to go visit his brother Fred soon and perhaps we could all meet together in Florida, which Fred agreed to.  

Mom and Dad brought Sig and Erna with them to Florida since they now were very intrigued with this story and Sig could translate for Dad if need be.  They all met Fred and the rest of his family for the very first time, including his wife and Dad's half brother and sister and their families, and Dad's Uncle Fritzoff. In 1975 his father Fred and family drove an RV up to Canada and visited Dad on his new farm near Duchess and had a visit with Emma of 76 years for the first time since their break up in 1916. This was a big event for Rufus getting his own natural father and Emma in one room together talking after all those years! 

While visiting with us on the farm, we also took Fred and family to see his original homestead and the location of where his little hut was located 'across the river'.   There also was a social visit with Sig and Erna and it was during this visit that they came up with the idea of taking a picture with Rufus and Fred on a horse, father and son.  Now the only time I ever saw my father on a horse in my complete  lifetime was in this picture since his days on a horse were over.  He had moved on.  

Dad was always good at being able to focus and apply himself for the project undertaken.

I have a picture frame on my desk containing a poem with my father's name at the bottom of it and an airplane to begin with to label Dad for who he was, the flying farmer. This poem meant so much to Dad because it represents the story of his life completely:

I always thought Rufus wrote this poem because why would he 'sign his name' at the bottom of the page, albeit electronically? A little naïve I was, perhaps. Also for him to come up with some ancient, fancy words, I decided he really wanted to make a classic. Well, truth be told, this poem was not written by my father at all, but by Sir Henry Wooten (1568 – 1639)! The actual version of the poem is twice as long and so he only kept what was the most relevant for him! Dad, you cannot do that! He probably did it quite innocently. I should best scratch out his name and put down the true author of this poem! Because of its importance, however, I will leave it on my desk.

Pansy noted that five Chudleigh brothers (my Great Uncles and Grandfather) all died within two years of one another (1946 – 1948). The first one was Fred, then there was George, Norman, Perce, and Edward, all before I was born.  When Edward passed away and once her family was well established, Aunt Bess moved in to the Empress Hotel in Victoria, BC for retirement and lived there for a further 10 years and passed away in 1969 at the age of 92! She was treated like royalty by the hotel patrons, having her own private suite. I remember going to Victoria once with my parents to visit her. The Hotel always put on a huge buffet supper on Sunday and as a young lad, I could eat as much as I wanted. My mother had to drill me before arriving as to which silver forks and spoons to use for each course before going on to the main meal. I felt like we were visiting British Royalty...how appropriate!

But lets get back to the year 1950. When I came into this world on May 23rd, there was family around the farm, some that came for a visit, then left, all knew a lot more than I did for what went on before I arrived, and I had no idea what they were talking about and why they talked the way they did. They came with scars from the past, excessive baggage or karma which helped shape their personality and behavior. Any changes made to building or farm through time was more meaningful for them and came with some hesitation as they were rich in knowledge from what had happened before. Despite the significant and important role the horses played, I never saw a horse on the farm as they all had passed away before I was born, and there was no need to replace them. I knew nothing, free of the past and had nothing to fall back on to shape my identity, thus creating a generation gap with new and different ideas, more willing to accept change. 

If you were to travel through Alberta now, towns and villages have grown, but the number of people in the country are far less, with bigger farms using huge machinery, thus eliminating the manual labor component. If you were to comment what existed at one time when driving through an area, the younger generation would ask: “Really?! Where?!” There would be very little trace of the number of residences, barns, and corrals in support of the higher density since their buildings and yard deteriorated quite rapidly upon lack of use, or abandonment due to the weather elements. Previous farm yards, including trees were also destroyed to free up more farm land. 

Fencing has almost come full circle, starting with the earliest settlers being ranchers and keeping their cattle on the open range. With the introduction of irrigation and farming, each homestead became mixed with livestock, including work horses, and grain, every place had a barn and the land and yards were fenced to control the animals and to mark your territory. Once automation allowed for the manual component of farming to be minimized, certain rural people became specialized into farming only. Therefore the amount of barbed wire fencing has been greatly reduced to only support the ranchers. What is farm is farm and what is ranch is ranch. You know there is nothing but farm when all you see is crop and no fence.

No irrigation ditches are left other than the main canals that are lined now to eliminate seepage. Alkali flats and willow infested ditch banks are all but gone as land has been restored to support crops again and maximize production, making effective use of land available using efficient farming operations. Berg's lake is no longer, just a coulee now with no dam, as it is not required anymore.  Water in the district is delivered scientifically to the field underground using pipes and computer run pivotal sprinklers have replaced the need for labor intensive flood irrigation methods.   Habitat continues to adapt to the changing environment. What was haven for the pheasant and garter snake is much more now a struggle for survival.

Following are landmarks that no longer exist in Duchess, the importance of which was described earlier:

• • CPR Royal Railway Line – gone

  • CPR station – gone

  • Grain elevators – gone

  • Livery stable that became the community hall – gone

  • Greyhound bus depot – gone

  • Pool hall - gone

  • School dormitories - gone

There were a lot more changes over the years and so you can hardly recognize the village and surrounding area anymore. It is a shame to think that Duchess at its peak used to be a commerce centre with its own bank and the locals did not have to go to other centres for shopping, but now it is much more like a bedroom community for Brooks. What is left is the memories for what it once was. 

In preparing this log, I had some curious questions unanswered, but fortunately have come up with most of the missing pieces to the puzzle. Sometimes I needed to ask both Aunts separately for the real story since either could have told me only what they wanted me to hear. The research and questions raised definitely helped me reach closure for what was unknown for that generation of Chudleigh family and for the respect I gained from certain relatives and neighbors/ friends. Despite how relevant are the names Chidley, Alnander, and Pierson, I am a Chudleigh, always have been, and always will be.   I recall asking Dad once if he were given an opportunity to do it all over again for his time prior to meeting Stella and he very quickly, sternly, and emphatically said ...no. I knew from this that any issues and problems I have incurred to this point are pale in comparison to the hardships he endured.

The time I spent with Pansy and Elizabeth allowed us to remember and get a break from any age related issues they are currently struggling with. Time was of the essence to get this story told. Now if only I had my hands on that mandolin, sitting on the front seat of Sethen's coupe and had that in my garage...