On December 28, 1949 a fire broke out on the main floor of my grandfather’s house and it would change my father’s life forever. The following is a recently found article from the Saskatoon Star Phoenix, January 3, 1950, that gives a written account of the events of that day. Our family knew the story from accounts told directly to us by our father and mother and by our aunts who were rescued. My grandfather also provided an account of what happened in a family book he wrote.
My parents were married in July 1948 and their first son, my brother, was born in August 1949. They were spending the 1949 Christmas at my grandparent’s farm when the fire was accidentally started. My father faced the flames twice – once to help get my mother and brother out of the house and a second time when he went back in the burning house to the upstairs to rescue my two aunts aged 6 and 4.
Dad told us he wrapped the girls in blankets and ran down the stairs through the flames to safety. He was severely burned on his hands and face. The scars lasted forever but my aunts, Dianne and Lorraine, were not injured and have lived wonderful lives with their own families. My aunt Dianne gave the eulogy at my father’s funeral following his death on January 8, 2003 and said he was her hero. He was almost 75 years old.
It took a long time to travel the 28 miles from rural Saskatchewan, in the dead of winter, to the Tisdale hospital given the burns my father sustained. The family did not have a car so they had to travel by horse and buggy. He always spoke highly of the care he received in Tisdale and the subsequent care in Winnipeg, Manitoba.
There were many weeks in hospital where pins had to be inserted in some of my Dad’s fingers for them to function because the fingers were burned so bad. There was a concern that he would lose his right hand but all worked out in the end. At Grace Hospital in Winnipeg, Dr. Gerrard was doing new, exploratory work with skin grafting. Dr. Gerrard was able to take skin from my father’s back and inner arms and graft the skin onto his nose and face. It was nothing short of amazing the work that was done in 1950. My father credits these medical people with him enjoying a fruitful and productive life. Grace Hospital was operated by the Salvation Army and was the first Salvation Army hospital in Canada.
Another significant point that Dad always mentioned related to the cost of his treatment in Tisdale and Winnipeg. He never paid anything because they had no money. There was a small bill from the Grace Hospital, which I copied below, that covered the basic hospital stay and incidentals; however, Dad did not remember who paid the account. It is safe to say the Canadian taxpayer covered all the costs and this represents a case in point that the Canadian Health care system works.
It is with gratitude and with considerable humbleness that my wife and I have been able to support Saskatoon Hospitals over the last number of years. We are blessed in Canada for many things and our health care system is but one.
For over 50 years Dad worked, raised a family and never complained. In the winter the cold affected the pins in his hands and yet most of his work was done outside from cutting trees to feeding cattle. His face was also susceptible to the cold and it must have been so difficult working outside.
Given his circumstances he could have taken an easier route and accessed the Canadian safety net system beyond what the health care system initially provided. He never did. He worked and paid his bills and was an inspiration to any of us who knew his story.
My mother also deserves a word for her work while Dad was in hospital and during the years that followed. She worked hard and had very little in terms of material things. I’m so proud of both of them.
My father never received recognition of any kind for what he did that cold December day in 1949. He simply did what he had to do when the circumstances presented themselves.
Was he a hero – of course. Was he my hero – always.
My second cup is now empty……………..
Thanks for sharing Brian. Your Dad was a true gem of a man. Although I had heard that story a few times in my youth, it hit me hard as I read your words tonight and reflected on his heroic act. He saved a four year girl, who would grow up to be my mother. Because of him I am fortunate to work as a physician in the publicly funded healthcare system that helped your Dad heal from the severe burns he suffered 7o years ago. To say he was a hero just isn’t enough…so all I can say to my Uncle Merle is “thank you” from a very grateful nephew who wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. Kelly