Coming home!

A homecoming 

If you're not from the Prairie, you don't know me. You can't know me. You see...

My hair's mostly wind - my eyes filled with grit. My skin's white then brown - my lips chapped then split. I'd lain on the priairie and heard grasses sigh. I've stared at the vast open bowl of the sky. I've seen every castle and face in the clouds. My home is the prairie and for that I'm so proud. 

If you're not from the prairie you don't know my soul. You've not fought my blizzards - you don't know my cold. You don't know my mind - nor ever my heart. Unless deep within you there's somehow a part. A part of these things I say that I know. The cold and the wind, the ice and the snow. But say that you have and then we'll be one. For we will have shared that same Prairie Sun. 

Some people know me through my books. If You're not from the Prairie is my most known. Some, though significantly fewer, know me from my time in Regina or maybe even earlier days...from my time as Bert and Cecile's boy (or Diane's little brother) in Gravelbourg. My late Father was known as Bert although his name was Wilbrod ad name that was, for many, too hard to pronounce.

Even though it was somewhat imortalized in the lyrics in Johnny Cash's hit song, I've been Everywhere, few know of my home town Gravelbourg or of the many other little towns near mine. Several of these great towns are now ghost towns but were once the homes to many of my friends. Towns like Bateman and Meyronneare are simply gone. They are no more. How can that after having boasted such great baseball players as the legendary Leslie Bonnet. How about Coderre (half the town was made up of Coderres and could they ever play ball) and Courval? Mazenod? Some exist on google maps. Does that mean that they really do exist?   

But Gravelbourg (population today of about 1100 as compared to the 1600 of my youth) remains much as it was even after having lost my high school College Mathieu to a tragic fire. This merits a little background. 

The provincial legislature had authorized a college for Gravelbourg in December 1917 (the year of my late father's birth). It was intended as a boarding school to ensure the survival of the French Canadian inheritance in western Canada. The College promoted classical and technical training in French, and by 1924, it had also become affiliated with Ottawa University and offered high school diplomas and Bachelor of Arts degrees. Though all my studies were in French, all but English, it was no longer affiliated with Ottawa leaving us on our own to find post secondary opportunities. 

At the tender age of 4, I began school at the Jardin Notre Dame. There, I was taught by Oblate nuns until I moved to the main College where I was taught by Oblate Priests. I graduated high school and began my university education at 15, not recommended btw. 

The College's historic main building (the large light roof in the picture above) was tragically destroyed by fire in 1988; however, a new, modern campus was quickly constructed and ready for operation by 1989. Following the amendment of the Education Act in 1993 to allow for the management of Francophone schools by Fransaskois, French education would become much more accessible in francophone communities. The recruitment of young people for the college was affected, and Collège Mathieu began looking at other forms of student recruitment for its programs.

In 2003-2004, an agreement was reached between Collège Mathieu and the Francophone school division for the latter to take over the academic programming of the institution. The following year, the integration was complete when the Francophone school division took possession of the main building to continue French-language education for secondary students. École Mathieu is part of the Conseil des écoles fransaskoises and offers education in French from preschool to grade 12. 

College Mathieu is now the only French-language post-secondary technical institution in Saskatchewan. 

The post office remains as I knew it, even without Rose and Simon Mailhot whom we all knew and loved. Mail delivery didn't exist. We went to the post office with the key to our small mailbox. In the event of a parcel, either Rose or Simon would have to help out. I was blessed knowing them in later years and was at Simon's bedside the night before he died. They were the best of the best. 

The cathedral is magnificent and worth the drive just to see it. It is stunning! The interior is hand painted much as many of the most beautiful throughout Europe. The models used were locals which in itself is a story worth hearing.

I had best give this a rest as I could go on for days. There are buildings I'd like to talk about. And people...oh my...people. There are people I knew that might no longer exist, although in many cases, they and/or their families live on. Couture, Chouinard, Lizee, Fauchon, Legault, Thetrault, Carriere, Chabot, Tardiff, Wong and Shervan...not to forget the first protestant I was to meet, Donny Hamilton. 

Enough already. Now on to my homecoming. 

I expect to be additing to this however as of today, here's what it looks like. 

For a more complete look at my calendar, click here.

Good luck and good health....