A Glibertarians Exclusive: North Country, Part I
Fort McKay, Alberta, June 1946
1923 Grey-Dort Touring Car
Corporal Ted Paige brought his old 1923 Grey-Dort touring car to a halt on the shoulder of the road, on a small rise overlooking the town. It was a clear, chilly day. The Athabasca River lay off to the right. A breeze stirred the leaves of a small stand of birches between the road and the river. Ahead, past the town, Ted could see a big expanse of spruce. He had arrived, here in the north country, and the little town looked just as his friend described it.
Ted had driven for two days to cover the three hundred miles from Edmonton to the Indian settlement which now lay before him. The battered old vehicle wasn’t really up to the trip, but it had been all he could afford. His demobilization pay from his service in the South Alberta Regiment hadn’t been all that generous.
At least it’s Canadian-made, he reminded himself. Not a Yank car. During the war he had been a gunner in a US-made tank, an M4 Sherman. The Shermans had replaced the Regiment’s old Canadian-built Ram tanks early in the war, but that didn’t relieve him of his preference for what was left of the Canadian automobile industry.
He pulled a wrinkled envelope out of his pocket. There was only a name on the sealed envelope: Penelope Testawich. The envelope bore no address. Ted knew only that the woman lived somewhere on the Reserve north of the village.
Ted Paige’s best friend, Albert Maskwa, had told him all about Penelope Testawich, except where precisely she lived. But he was in the right place, coming to the end of a trail that had begun in France, two years earlier.
He put the car back in gear. There was an old general store ahead, hopefully someone there would know where he could find the woman he sought. The old car’s tires ground in the gravel on the shoulder (tank treads grinding and squeaking, the big radial tank engine roaring) as he moved the car back onto the road.
The general store was dimly lit. An old Indian stood behind the counter, framed with jars of hard candies and cartons of cigarettes. He looked up with a narrow gaze as Ted walked in.
“Help you?” the old man asked, looking at Ted suspiciously.
I should have worn my uniform, Ted thought. A veteran might get a better greeting in a little town like this. “Pack of Players,” he said. The old man handed him a pack. As he paid for the smokes, Ted pulled the envelope out of his jacket pocket. “I’m hoping you can help me. I’m looking for a woman named Penelope Testawich. I understand she lives near here.”
The old Indian looked even more suspicious. “Why are you looking for her?”
“Do you know her?”
“I run the store. I know everybody.”
“You know Albert Maskwa?”
“I do. He joined up in 1942. Haven’t seen him since. Where is he now?”
Ted looked down at the floor. The memory was still hard to face (the sudden SLAM of impact, metal screeching, the wash of flame over the interior of the Sherman, scrambling madly out of the hatch, landing hard on the cool ground, and rolling frantically away from what Ted suddenly remembered the Krauts had derisively called the ‘Tommy-cooker’, the buzz of a Kraut machine gun and bullets whipping by overhead, the cold water of a roadside ditch) and so he took his time lighting a cigarette.
He took a drag on the smoke and answered. “Where is he now? By now he should be in the Bretteville-Sur-Laize Canadian War Cemetery in France. He was killed in November of 1944.”
“Oh. So, you served with him?”
“I did. He was a tank driver, and I was a gunner in the same tank. C Squadron, 29th Canadian Armored Reconnaissance Regiment. We got hit. I got out. Albert didn’t.”
“I see.”
“He was my best friend. My brother.”
The old Indian grunted. A young woman came in with two children in tow. Ted politely stepped aside so she could present her shopping list to the old man, who quickly bustled about selecting items, adding up the total, and taking the young woman’s money.
When the young woman left, the storekeeper went back to his spot behind the counter. “If you were Albert’s friend, then you’ll know that Penelope was his intended. He will have told you. Are you here to talk to her about Albert?”
Ted pulled the envelope out of his pocket. “After the Falaise Gap, Albert and I each wrote a letter. I wrote mine to my parents, down in Edmonton. Albert wrote to Penelope. We each kept each other’s letters. We each agreed that if we… got hit, the other of us, we would deliver the letters in person.”
The old Indian looked at Ted. “That you did this, the two of you, that is a good thing.” He considered Ted through squinted eyes. “This town, this community, it’s a small community. We look out for one another. If anyone came to this place with bad intentions, they wouldn’t leave again.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Ted agreed easily. “I have no bad intentions. I came only to deliver this letter, to talk to her about Albert, and then I’ll go back home. I made a promise. I aim to keep it.”
“I believe you. Penelope, she lives up in the Cree settlement north of town. Take the road north. Take your second left. Go about ten miles. You’ll see a little white house on the north edge of a meadow, tucked in against the trees. You’ll find her there.”
Ted thanked the old man and turned to go. The old Indian called after him: “What if both of you had gotten hit?”
Ted stopped in the doorway and looked back. His shoulder, as if in sympathy, twinged; Ted reached to rub the scar that a German grenade fragment (the cold dark night, trying to get some sleep in a ‘fart-sack’ under the tank, the hard ground, the sudden burst of shots and bursts as German infiltrators attacked the bivouac site with sub-machine guns and grenades, scrambling for his revolver, the sudden flowering of pain in this shoulder as a grenade burst next to the tank, his arm dropping useless, the feeling of being dragged into the tank through the floor hatch) had left.
“Then nobody would have gotten a letter,” he said.
The old Indian pursed his lips and nodded. “Then it is a good thing you did not.”
Outside, Ted climbed in the old car. He pressed the starter button, but the car only replied with an anemic buzz. Sighing, he got out, reached into the back seat, and got the crank handle. He set the spark down low and opened the manual throttle a little, then cranked the car to wheezing life. Tossing the crank handle back into the back seat, where it landed next to Ted’s battered old suitcase and stained Army sleeping bag, Ted climbed back in and took the road north.
The road was dusty and lightly graveled. Ted counted, took the second road left, but had to guess at the ten miles the old Indian had mentioned; the old Grey-Dort’s mileage counter was broken. But in time he arrived at what could only be the house the storekeeper had described.
There was no real laneway up to the house, only a vaguely defined wagon track. Ted pulled off the road and walked up the track towards the house, through a field of fireweed. The house was small, no more than ten by twenty; calling it “white” was a bit generous, as it clearly had not been painted for years. A small stovepipe vented white wood-smoke to the clear blue sky. To the side of the house there was a large garden, where a few chickens pecked lazily around. As he approached, a dog started barking. He could hear a woman’s voice calming the dog. As he stepped onto the house’s tiny porch, the door opened.
Penelope Testawich proved to be a small woman, with long black hair, sad black eyes and delicately defined cheekbones set in in a heart-shaped brown face. She was wearing men’s trousers and an old un-dyed cotton work shirt. “You lost?” she demanded.
“No,” Ted said. He extended the letter. “I brought you this.”
She took the envelope. “That’s Albert’s writing.” She looked up at Ted. “He’s not coming back, is he?”
“No,” Ted said again. “He’s not. Miss Testawich…”
“Call me Penelope.”
“All right – Penelope. My name’s Ted Paige. I’m from Edmonton. I was the gunner in the tank Albert drove. He was my best friend. Albert was killed in November, year before last. It was… Well, it’s a long story.”
Penelope looked at the envelope. She wiped away a single tear, then opened the envelope and scanned the single page.
“You’d better come in,” she said at last. “I was about to make something to eat. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” Ted said.
“Then come on in.”
She stepped back out of sight, into the dark interior of the house. Ted followed her in.
***
If you’re travelin’ in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Why?
Did he make a pun I missed?
Excellent story
I’m guessing he corrected some grammar.
Nice.
Not sure how you keep coming up with these, but I thank you just the same.
Honestly I’m not sure either. Sometimes the idea just pops into my head. After my last couple of “Bob Dylan lyrics into a story” bits, a couple of folks had asked for Girl From The North Country, and I couldn’t come up with anything until POP there it was, full-fledged, and I just wrote it down.
Spent a fair amount of time researching the actions of the 29th Canadian, though, to get that right. That was interesting.
That was interesting.
I went a different direction and spent some time researching Gray-Dort. Man, what an exciting time for the automobile industry. So many stories like G-D.
Great story but you couldn’t drive to Fort Mac, never mind Fort McKay until the 1960s–only way in was by plane, train, river or rough trail. Fort Mckay is in a beautiful spot along the river, with giant oil sands mines on each side today. It is a wealthy little community of around 900 Dene, Cree and Metis people.
I was wondering about that, but was unable to find any information. Chalk it up to “willing suspension of disbelief,” I guess. Either that or he drove the trail. Those old cars were tough. Right?
No worries. It’s a great tale about people, not a history. To this day the highway ends just northeast of Ft. McKay. To get to Ft. Chipewyan you have to take the ice road in winter or boat or fly in summer.
Does anyone have a link to the submission guide? I am going to make 2 (two) submissions today and its been so long I want to make sure I get the details right.
This?
https://www.glibertarians.com/2020/04/working-with-wordpress-a-guide-for-glibs-authors/
Yes, thanks much!
*cheers*
Remember to turn off the sidebar and turn off “featured image” in the post. 😉
THANK YOU!
Huh. Never done that on my posts. Should I go to the box, and feel shame?
Yes, for 2 minutes.
I learned a lot from Tonio’s “A Call for Better Formatted Posts”
Also, you don’t want to be lame.
At least it’s Canadian-made, he reminded himself.
I guess he didn’t have a Ross.
/duh
Look at the date.
Good stuff, as ever, Animal.
Nuts….fridge was supposed to be here between 8 and 12. Lowes.com says “6 stops away”. What a waste of time. Got some reserve stuff done this morning, but I suspect I’ll have to make up hours later this week or just waste leave on this whole day (prob make up the next couple of days).
Lowes.com says “6 stops away”.
Better than “6 months away”.
Yeah…I probably should have just gotten delivery soonest (week before new years) since it was in stock – rather than trying for a more “convenient” time – already got delayed 2x because of weather last week.
Yeah, we have a new washer coming from Home Depot. Supposed to be here last Saturday. Oopsie! Now supposed to be here a week from tomorrow. Here’s hoping the current one can hold it together that long (prognosis: uncertain).
And here I thought “In Stock” meant “at the store”, not “somewhere in the United States, probably.”.
The town of Stock? Stockholm? On the SS Stock off the coast? In the stocks for bad behaviour?
Builder is supposed to give us a closing date sometime this week. Generally that is set up 45 days in advance, which would be Feb 28 at the worst (45 days from Friday). Which is the last day in our rental, so that works. I am hoping for Feb 25, to give me a weekend to move boxes before the movers move the furniture. I am not paying them to load and unload boxes from the storage unit. They can earn money from moving heavy stuff.
Either way it is going to happen the same, I just hope to have a place to go sleep that isn’t the floor of the new house for a few nights.
So there is a small hill just outside our new neighborhood and from the top of the hill there is a gorgeous view of the mountains to the west. Someone was on that hill, looked at the view, and said “You know what we need to build here? An Amazon distribution center and a storage facility.”
The neighbors here successfully blocked one recently. Now they are losing their minds about a proposed RV storage place across the creek from our neighborhood.
Lots of NIMBYism around here. Neighbor didn’t think much of my idea of creating a fund and buying the land.
Two local fights right now. A gas station near some homes that want to maintain their semi-rural environment that was more rural before the homes were built and an RV park near the lake.
some homes that want to maintain their semi-rural environment that was more rural before the homes were built
My favorite. Ranks up there with people moving into farming areas and complaining about the farming. I’m guessing its the same people:
“See that field next to your subdivision? Its used for farming.” *cue protests*
“See that field next to your subdivision, just like the one your subdivision was built on? They’re going to build another subdivision there.” *cue protests*
I had a neighbor in a ratty mobile home (She was here before me). She moved out, her grandkids moved in, took all the aluminum off the house and sold it and moved out. I had a realtor friend contact the property owner in CA and bought the 40 acres. A junker came buy and got the remnants of all the junk that was left.
My favorite. Ranks up there with people moving into farming areas and complaining about the farming.
Heh, a neighbor down the road complained about my donkeys braying during the night.
Not much to say in response other than Yep, they do that.
My favorite is still the people moving into the “Butchertown” neighborhood in Louisville and complaining about the smell. Ummm….there is still an active hog slaughtering plant, its been there for more than a century, deal with it.
My neighbors aren’t too close but sometimes when I’m outside I can hear their dogs barking, it’s what dogs do. I hear some of them shooting frequently in the nice weather, they occasionally hear me shooting. I have good neighbors.
We’ve gone two weeks without our trash getting picked up – see if they finally show up this Weds.
“two stops away now”
ok. Here now. I’ll stick a pic on twitter later.
Excellent story.
“Girl From The North Country” is a great song.
Off to a good start. Looking forward to the next.
Good stuff Animal thanks.
Seconded.
Bob Saget eulogies seem non-stop on the Philly newscasts. Just because he grew up in the area and went to Temple U? Hope the rest of you aren’t bombarded with him. My kids used to watch him on “Funniest Videos” where I found his humor terribly sucking. I really don’t see what this “one of the country’s funniest guys” stuff is about. R.I.P.
I’m the same age as the Olsen twins so I did grow up watching Full House (I was a kid too!). America’s Funniest Home videos was amusing enough to waste an hour watching. I guess those are nice memories of Bob.
When I discovered he did stand up as a teen and he was known for being a “dirty” comic I was pumped to watch. I thought it was terrible.
Hmm. Did you ever see his version of “The Aristocrats?”
High-Larry-Ows!
I think I’ve seen maybe 6 episodes of Full House because a) I was in an in-between demo that wasn’t the target demo and b) most of the time, I didn’t have a TV and/or didn’t have time to watch. I was not impressed with the show, but then I don’t care for sitcoms in general. I rarely watched America’s Funniest Home Videos because I don’t like slapstick comedy, pranks, or fail vids. Anything where people get punked, pranked, or hurt, I’m out. I heard part of his standup routine once and it was not funny.
So “Bob Saget” and “comedian” don’t really go together in my mind.
Funny animal videos sometimes, though.
Perhaps more of a comedians’ comedian.
Yup. We were definitely the wrong age for either of those shows. And I like (some) sit-coms.
IIRC, my kids liked it when they were little. I think that’s where I got my exposure to it.
Full House was absolutely horrendous.
He should spend a few years in Purgatory just for that.
Listening to Marc Maron’s tribute repost, he’s witty as hell, usually “on” but subtly. At least in conversation.
…to answer Mo’s Q.
He said his favorite FH episode is the last one.
Great story. Thanks.
Thanks, Animal. The story is great, I’m concerned about the large garden that far north. Now I have to wait another week.
Lots of large gardens up there in those days. Long, warm days in summer make up for short growing season. Even north of there in Fort Chipewyan there were large gardens in every yard until transportation improved in the 1960s onward. Agriculture Canada had test stations across the north developing crops that would grow in this type of environment as far north as the Yukon.
I spent about two months up there a decade ago interviewing around 50 kids, regular folks and elders on the five First Nations surrounding Ft. McMurray. Lots of history in that country. In Ft. Chip the graves are on the surface as it in the Canadian Shield.
Same here in Alaska. Lots of folks (including us) have garden plots and greenhouses. Ditto for the long days. Lots of truck farms over around Palmer.
The northern climate can be very strange. In 1984 I was planting trees around 100 miles north of Ft. Nelson in June and it was above 90 degrees for 24 days straight. We started work at 4 am and worked until noon because there was a fire ban. In the early 2000s I was in Ft. Nelson in October and all the stores still had their flower pots full of healthy petunias and other flowers. In Calgary, we had frost over a month earlier.
It snowed on my birthday, June 11th, north of Red Lake, Ontario. We went to the state fair in Palmer, biggest cabbage I’ve ever seen. Also the crafts and arts were just beautiful. My friend in Eagle River had potato vines I estimated at 14 feet and super potatoes.
LOL! Bully!
I do like your authoor’s voice, Animal.
One question: wouldn’t she have known by now that he had been killed?
Albert might not have had any next of kin alive (or there). Certainly that much time after the war, the assumption would be.
Plausible.
My operating assumption was that the community didn’t know. The storekeeper – trust me, small town general store owners know everything that goes on – didn’t know, so safe to say word hadn’t trickled back. Albert and Penelope weren’t married, his parents were dead, and she’s way out in the boonies.
Bad gas travels fast in a small town. So if anyone knew, everyone would have known.
“Bad gas travels fast in a small town.”
Too many jokes.
Well, it’s Canada, so…
Not in northern Alberta in those days–particularly if he was First Nations.
Underrated album
Interesting listen. Geopolitical Sitrep 01 08 22
I remember the 80s when we went from being weaker than the Soviets / Warsaw Pact to far stronger in terms of conventional war fighting capabilities. The West hasn’t accepted it yet, but the balance has shifted back to Russia. NATO idiots strutting around like it isn’t the case is dangerous and stupid.
Granted we’ve stood down a lot of our armor in Europe, but the big story is the demilitarization of nearly all of Western Europe.
That’s one thing I enjoy about “Red Storm Rising” – great descriptions and breakdowns and details of the different NATO military forces including their own reservists and training forces. Virtually no comparison to today.
Clancy does a good job of describing “follow-on” forces on both sides. When I was in the National Guard, I was in an armor battalion in a mech infantry division – one of those big follow-on units that would be headed to Europe in the Soviets invaded. Until, that is, they took away our tanks and retrained our troopers to be prison guards in Iraq. Now those units are essentially worthless against a real army.
Bob Saget talking about getting his booster shot a few days ago.
Ouch. That’s gonna leave a mark.
Justin truly is a lightweight.
??
Notice how he ignores Pooh Bear.
Sadly, this is probably accurate.
https://twitter.com/ItsAlekz/status/1480598606394580993?s=20
From June 2019
Ignores, is too timid to approach, potato potahto.
OFFS. At the NY Post. I’m not even going to read it, since they are a major purveyor of doompanicterror.
The gist of the response is that it looks like cross-contaminated testing equipment rather than an actual hybrid virus.
Behold!
I like the “older” version:
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7b/66/b2/7b66b225b12af38f531cd7651290239d.png
Nice.
Either way, we appear to have none to offer.
Don’t give Fauci any ideas.
I was putting together the target stands NOT currently lounging in Rochester.
I’m using the same socket set I bought in 1977. I paid $1 for it. The sockets/wrench/extensions/adapters are pristine, the case has moderate rust. Hanson Tools, made in Taiwan. Apparently I got the only decently manufactured thing in that benighted decade.
https://www.popsugar.com/food/dunkin-omelet-bites-winter-menu-48673658
Let’s call it Keto friendly.
Bacon & cheddar bites == 7g carbs. To me, that’s too much for an egg-and-bacon dish.
That’s why it’s only “keto friendly”.
Competing w/ Starbucks, no doubt:
https://www.starbucks.com/menu/product/2122116/single
9 gm carbs. But your least-worst option for food at Starbucks, I think.
Um, compared to most options, either of these is a solid choice. Even if you are trying to keep your carbs below 50 grams.
I do Atkins induction @ 20g. I never allowed myself to graduate to the ongoing weight loss phase. 7-9 grams is too much for my purposes.
I’m suspect you know this, but induction is meant to be just a couple of weeks.
.
Oh yes. Well aware.
Yes, that’s pretty low for real life. I did 20 for 75 days awhile back and was really fucking happy to be done with it.
Eh, I did it for about a year. Felt good. Mental health was better, relatively speaking (without drugs). I didn’t find anything too onerous about it once I had passed 2 weeks.
I’ve mentioned it before, but doing some experimenting on glucose response to different carbs is quite enlightening. Turns out carb response – like very other goddamn thing in nutrition – ends up being N=1.
A simple glucose monitor and a week or two of experimenting will blow you away. For me, sweet potatoes are a hard no, but honey, corn tortillas and bananas barely move my glucose at all. So weird.
I’m not concerned about my glucose. I’m concerned with the number on the scale.
Secondly, there are some foods that trigger sugar cravings and I’m not going to subject myself to that. Honey is one of those.
Thirdly, I’m not a foodie. Food is the enemy and eating is a chore. I’m not going to cook much. I’m not going to experiment. There are a whole lot of foods I don’t like. Low-carb means that if I can tolerate monotony (I can), I don’t have to think about it too much. Not having to think about it too much is invaluable to me.
7g carbs – must be using flour or bread crumbs to hold it together.
Sugar, too.
https://abcnews.go.com/Health/wireStory/californias-newsom-health-coverage-immigrants-82182935
Well, it’s one way to speed the exodus/collapse.
Probably should have included this blurb:
Congratulations, CA taxpayers!
Congratulations,
CAUS taxpayers!CA’s problems become all of our problems. This has already started with FedGov bailouts under COVID.
Which is part of the reason Blue State governors prolonged the covidpanic. New York had been bankrupt for several years before getting the bailout, and there was no way a second Trump administration was going to bail out the states.
Right?! We’re swimming in dough now.
The clowns are claiming “economic recovery” when in reality it was the Feds spraying money everywhere.
Feds can print CA dollars, only usable there, to avoid contamination and inflation in the other 56 states.
If it sucks illegals-on-welfare out of other states, yay?
I’ve known probably a dozen illegals, all of whom worked. Hard, manual labor for low pay.
I’ve also talked to people chasing welfare fraud. There is definitely a big illegal welfare scam industry – not just illegals cashing checks for themselves, but illegals farming welfare with dozens of false (often stolen) IDs. Its a cartel thing, apparently.
I don’t think you can get federal Medicaid funding for illegals. This should cause major problems with CMS, if CA is thinking about putting them in the Medicaid program. (Yes, I said “should”.)
They aren’t fucking immigrants. They’re aliens, and illegal ones at that. Stop conceding the premise.
(not you Sean)
Will he provide free health coverage to Novak Djoković, too?
New York Could Make History With a Fashion Sustainability Act
I’m completely torn here. I hate everything about the law and who is promoting it. OTH, I’m enjoying both the companies and the types of customers this impacts.
Wouldn’t it affect pretty much every athletic shoe company, too?
I think the athletic shoe companies were already forced by the SJWs to be rather open about their materials and manufacture.
So they may already mostly comply. They also likely don’t have as much of a NY presence so they can be forced as much to comply.
Meh, like anyone cares that their stuff is made by slave labor.
Nothing says “we care” like making clothing vastly more expensive. Sorry, poor people.
Since everyone’s been talking about the Oh-My-God-Icron variant, I thought I should share something that got sent to me as it relates to the current OSHA mandate arguments.
Dr. Jay Bhattachrya filed this amicus brief with SCOTUS as part of the argument. I don’t know if it will get anyone’s attention, but it sure got mine.
His argument, in sum, is that Omicron is now the dominant strain of the virus and that the OSHA mandate can’t possibly be justified in light of that reality. The data is tentative, to be sure, but it strongly suggests that omicron actually lessens deaths, even from delta. In short, the panic-demic is over because of omicron, according to the good doctor. Lots of good information in there for anyone who’s curious.
I have had more people tell me today that they have covid than in the past 18 months combined. We have it, most of our friends and family have it, branch covidians have it, unvaxxed have it. The pandemic is going to be over in 2 weeks at this rate.
Same here.
Some people pretty sick too. Not, take me to the hospital sick, but flat on their back for a good number of days.
Aw rats, does this mean I have to go back to the office?
OSHA mandate can’t possibly be justified in light of that reality
?
Great story opener, Animal.
Great story, Animal. I have learned that I need to set aside time to read your work when there is unlikely to be distraction–I really like taking the time to immerse myself in the worlds you create.
Nice job, Animal. You really have a gift at these things.
I am enjoying your new story!