Guest writer Barbara Richardson retired a year ago to Alberta from a career in the Foreign Service. She lived in Ottawa, Manila, Nairobi, Dhaka, Harare and Prague and was Ambassador for three assignments. Coronavirus was not in her retirement plan.
Retirement brings the luxury of time. Freed from work pressures and child-rearing demands, we now have time to dilly-dally down memory lane. To deep dive into our childhood. To research our stories.
I saw a train today for the first time in awhile, and off I went. Meandering along my memory lane and ending with reflection on the contribution trains have made to Canada and the role they have played in the span of my life.
British Columbia joined confederation in 1871 after Prime Minister John A. Macdonald promised to build a transcontinental railroad that would link the province to the rest of Canada. From the early days of construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway, the imported Chinese rail workers were new immigrants building our country. This influence on the population and culture of Canada is profound. Over the course of construction and by the end of 1882, of the 9,000 railway workers, 6,500 were Chinese Canadians. They were employed to build the B.C. segment of the railway through the most challenging and dangerous terrain. And then they settled here, to help build our county’s future. In my 12 years of schooling in Alberta in the ’60s, I recall one Asian family in my schools. Today our country reflects a completely international population. Those first Chinese workers became early Canadian pioneers.
Trains also brought our iconic CP hotels, Canada’s ‘castles’. Built to accommodate rail travellers. How many of our generation have special memories of these hotels across Canada? Snapshots scattered across our lives. Moments of holiday stays, conferences, weddings, meals experienced in these scenic hotels. Always a bit awed when walking into their magnificent lobbies. Long-stored and special life memories — a gift of trains.
During the depression, more than 2 million homeless became hoboes — a term forgotten now. Often the only way they could search for work was by hopping on freight trains, illegally. I was fascinated, as a child, with stories of them ‘riding the rails’. And with a piece of cloth, a pole, some old, baggy clothes and smudged face, and this legacy of trains, I had my perfect Halloween hobo costume.
Those freight trains were essential for the economy in Canada, moving our Alberta grain and oil to market. My generation rode that wave of economic growth and prosperity. Up until the 1990s, the average freight train in Canada was about 5,000 ft (1.54 km) long and weighed 7,000 tons. But it is now not uncommon to see these trains stretch to 12,000 ft, sometimes as much as 14,000 ft (more than four km), weighing up to 18,000 tons. Did you count the cars out loud on long car rides? How many of us have nostalgic memories of train whistles and playing near the tracks? We may be the only generation that placed coins on the train tracks to try to flatten them on the rails as the train sped past! Were our parents worried about us playing by the tracks or walking across the trestles prepared to run if we heard the whistle? Probably not. ‘Helicopters’ were aircraft back then, not parents.
Trains are also central to my family history. My paternal great-grandfather came to Calgary on May 23, 1883, on location work for the engineering department of the Canadian Pacific Railway which was then nearing completion of the first Trans-Canada railway. In the spring of 1884 the Canadian Pacific Mail Company was organized, and he was given the responsibility of carrying the mail to and from all the camps 50 miles from the end of track. In 1886 he settled in Banff, and in 1887 he started in the hotel and real estate business in Calgary, activities he carried on until his death. That makes me a fourth generation and my brother’s grandchildren the sixth-generation of Calgarians. Thanks CPR.
And trains also conjure up a most treasured memory from my childhood. Every summer our family would decamp to our lake cabin to spend a few carefree, glorious weeks. It seemed an endless drive (190 km), at the time, in a car crammed with four impatient kids and summer clothes. But for several years, when we were very young, our parents would allow my sisters and me to ride the Dayliner passenger train instead. Long before the fear of strangers and abductions ruled our psyches. They would see us off on the train in Calgary and then pick us up a few hours later, in Lacombe in central Alberta. I’m sure for them it was brief, glorious freedom. And for us, three little girls? A train ride on our own was a thrilling adventure!
Trains. An historic, iconic, fascinating part of our generation’s experience. What are your memories? Take time to ponder, remember, research. Memories are there; we now have time to follow them — and share them in the comments below. •
Glen Wickens says
Thanks, Barbara, for a very enjoyable trip down the tracks of memory. I had the great pleasure when I was an undergraduate of working as a porter on the famous CPR passenger train, The Canadian. I remember long freight trains going through the Spiral Tunnels, the engines emerging long before the cars at the rear entered. Then it was our turn. Shut down the ventilation system and hope for the best. Safely through, the passenger train stopped at Field, BC, still my favourite lookout point in the Rockies. If someone writes the Canadian version of Norman Maclean’s A River Runs Through It, a good title would be A Train Runs Through It.
Barbara Richardson says
Agree! Can’t imagine how long the big ones are now!
Barbara Richardson says
Can you imagine how long it takes the big ones to get through now!
Tim McPhail says
Thank You Barbara, very well written !! I especially enjoyed your love of ” Railway Hotels “, which I share with you. I always try to book a room in one of the Canadian Castles when I travel in Canada. It takes me back to an earlier time in our nation’s history.
Barbara Richardson says
I love the glamour!
Linda Richardson says
Very interesting historical perspective Barb and I loved the memory of riding the train from Calgary to Lacombe with my sisters. I also remember that we would sometimes have to spend some time at the Lacombe station waiting for Mom and Dad and little brother, talking to the baggage handlers and trying not to make a nuisance of ourselves. That would definitely lead to a call to Child Welfare today! Simpler times for sure! Other great memories include taking the train cross country to Toronto for university and riding many trains while travelling in Europe with a gal pal in 1979.
Barbara Richardson says
Yes imagine us alone on the train! How old do you think we were?
Linda Richardson says
I am not sure but if Don was already born then you would be 5 or 6 and Judy and I would be 8 or 9 and 10 or 11.
J Grant McPhail says
Thank you Barbara for conjuring up distant memories.
Barbara Richardson says
Enjoy them!
Pam McPhail says
Thanks for stimulating a trip through the past, Barbara. The floodgates — railway crossings — opened, bringing to mind numerous train rides across the country. I must admit traveling in Coach class — no berth — in my younger years was not as pleasurable as occupying a private cabin later in life. A good addition to a bucket list? Stay or dine at every grand railway ‘castle’ in Canada!
Barbara Richardson says
A great idea! That would be a wonderful trip! When I was in Prague, I used to tell them that Canada had lots of castles! Castle mountain too!
Ken McLean says
There used to be a passenger train from Sherbrooke to Montreal and we enjoyed taking it. On one occasion we went to the Sherbrooke station to catch it, and no one was there. I used the phone there to call their headquarters and they said they’d call the ticketmaster. They called him at the station and we could hear the phone ringing, but of course no one answered because no one was there! I think we had to come back later.
Pam McPhail says
That passenger train originated in Halifax and came through Moncton and Sherbrooke en route to Montreal. My nephew Rod rode it several times from Mt A to visit us in Lennoxville. You’d have a comfortable mode of transportation to see James and Katie these years if only Via Rail had maintained the service.
Barbara Richardson says
Great story!
Catherine McCallum says
Your story really resonated with me and brought back a flood of memories of my multiple trips across Canada on trains. Particularly around Lake Superior which seemed to take days! Trips between Calgary and Edmonton when my sons were babies was a more relaxing way to travel and more scenic than driving, especially in winter! Good read.
Pam McPhail says
In summer 1970 my mom dropped off Ingrid, Linda and me on Highway 2 on the outskirts of Edmonton to hitchhike with our camping gear to Banff and beyond. I don’t imagine many people do that anymore, the train offering a safer option. I love the landscape between Edmonton and Calgary, though monotonously flat it may appear to non-Albertans, and prefer to travel by rail or motorcoach — rather than plane or car — to admire the scenery.
Barbara Richardson says
Glad the story brought back good memories
Patricia Young says
This posting is a fine reminder of the essential role trains have played in the development of Canada and in the lives of Canadians. As I have often lived near rail tracks throughout my life, the sound of the whistles or horns and the rattling of the wheels, day and night, are familiar rather than disturbing, reassuring me that all is well. They always bring a slight thrill. One journey in particular stands out. In 1966/67 the Geography Club of our small-town Ontario high school worked hard at various jobs to earn money towards a special trip. At spring break, we boarded CN’s Super Continental in Toronto heading for Vancouver. We took over an entire sleeping car with seats converting into cozy berths, two students up and two, down. Our teacher woke us before dawn one day as the train approached Jasper. We had arrived at the mountains! Later in the day a kindly conductor permitted a few of us to stand on the little porch of the caboose as the train made its astonishing journey from snowy Jasper to the desert landscape of Kamploops. I spent as much time there as possible. Thanks to the efforts (and suffering) of those early Chinese immigrants, our train safely wound its way, clinging to narrow ledges carved out of the sides of mountains, through tunnels with no end in sight and over bridges spanning unimaginably deep ravines as it followed two great rivers, the turquoise Thompson which eventually joined the brown Fraser. This one day remains my most thrilling Canadian memory.
Pam McPhail says
Your memory is so vivid and inviting, Pat, that it’s easy to understand why you recall your train trip fondly these many years later.
Barbara Richardson says
Some small moments in life stay with us forever
Marie McLean says
When I was 11, my parents (who did not have much money at all) took me, my sister and one brother on a train trip from Ontario to Vancouver. It was a huge gift to us. I still feel guilty when I remember we children (who were never allowed to play cards at home – religious reasons), were taught a card game by a couple of fellow passengers and our parents had to plead with us to go up to the glass-domed car to look at the scenery. I also remember my parents’ humiliation when the waiter in the dining car refused to serve us as my father had not left a big enough tip.
Barbara Richardson says
Your feelings at the moment must have been strong to stay with you so long.
Marilyn Rivers Bowerman says
Thank you for these reminisces. When I was an undergraduate at U of A, I would hop on the train to Vancouver at least once a year, usually in March. The goal was to feel the soft west coast air on my skin, breathe ocean air deep into my lungs, and simply to feel alive after the deep freeze Edmonton winter. The journey was a different matter. I travelled by coach accompanied only by my books, pen, paper, and cigarettes. I’d listen to the clattering of the train on the tracks, stare out at the changing and disappearing landscape, and drift out of the present moment into another time. On one trip I read most of Tolstoy’s, “Anna Karenina” and in my reveries imagined 19th century figures walking through the smoky wafts on the train only to be jarred into reality by a group of friends in jeans and t-shirts. Those were the days. Slow travel that’s fit for the imagination and daydream might be possible again one day again soon.
Pam McPhail says
“Anna Karenina” is one of my all-time favourite novels — and what an apt choice to read on your train trip. Thankfully, you have not followed Anna’s tragic tracks!
Barbara Richardson says
Let’s hope that we can soon return to carefree travel and reverie!