 David Morrison Blaikie
A Nova Scotia
lumberman
1909-1976
8. Depression times
Around 1932 - I'm not sure of the year - a branch of the Sons of
Temperance division was formed. There had been one in operation some
years back, but it had been crowded out by other events, and allowed to
lapse. Now, however, it was decided to re-open this branch - the
Agricola Division, as it had always been known.
Perhaps the fact that it provided something for the young people to do
may have been more than anything else responsible for this
re-organization. Anyway, I can't remember any particular zeal for the
good of the cause, except that each member had to take a pledge of total
abstinence from all alcoholic beverages. This wasn't too tough an
obligation, as there were a good many teetotallers around, many more
than you'd ever find at present.
I suppose there may have been 30 or more numbers. The head officer was
known as the Worthy Patriarch. This office was at first filled by an
older man, Chrieghton Cox, who really did take the cause of temperance
seriously.
There were a number of other offices filled by those best fitted, or to
be less charitable, by anyone who would accept them. Meetings were held
once a week during the fall and winter months, usually on Friday nights.
Emphasis on fun
Various committees were formed, chief among them being the entertainment
committee. Frequently other division branches were invited to visit, or
our branch would be invited out to visit them. The entertainment was
local, and consisted of songs, dialogues, instrumental music, and so on.
Sometimes a spelling match broke the monotony of the other
entertainment. Temperance wasn't too prominent, except that at each
meeting, every member was required to state that he (or she) hadn't
violated the pledge. Any that had done so usually didn't come back,
except occasionally a few backsliders would show up at a later date and
be "re-obligated".
This division provided an opportunity for members of the community -
mostly young people - to get together at a time when there was little
other entertainment in the community. Cars were scarce, and so was cash.
Young people are usually adaptable. They accepted this, and other
available forms of entertainment, there being nothing better at hand.
Some of the activities were really good, and would even be enjoyed
today.
Of course, there were times when the committee's efforts fell rather
flat. One such occasion happened some years before the Depression. The
worthy patriarch felt impelled to make a speech, in which he complained
about the dullness and general monotony of the programs. The group
needed, he said, "something new, something original and snappy that
would provide excitement. His speech went on and on, duller than the
entertainment he was hoping to replace.
Firecracker caper
A couple of young fellows sat listening to his appeal for originality.
Then, one of them quietly produced several fire-crackers, asking his
companion: "Do you suppose that these would be original and snappy?"
"Got a match?" the other asked. They were sitting in the back row of
chairs. Quietly they lit a firecracker and tossed it forward under the
rows of chairs.
Nothing happened. "Must have gone out," one said. So they lit another
one, and threw it after the first. Again, no result. So a third one was
lit and launched. Then, all at once "Bang! Bang! Bang!" The three of
them went off one after the other in the hall, where the ceiling had
been newly calcimined.
Showers of the calcimine came loose and fell to the floor. Nervous
females shrieked and climbed onto chairs. Pandemonium reigned. After a
few minutes things quieted down to a point where there was some
semblance of order. But no one knew what had caused this scene of
turmoil.
Patriarch furious
At length, someone spied a still-smoking firecracker under a chair. This
let the cat out of the bag. The culprits, undiscovered, chose to remain
that way. But the worthy patriarch was furious. Calling the meeting
together, he made another speech, which was in itself entertaining, at
least it was listened to a lot more attentively than his previous one.
In it he blasted anyone stooping to such a trick as being lower than a
penitentiary inmate. By comparison, all the great criminals of history
were made to seem pretty good guys. Hitler hadn't made his appearance at
the time, but his level of morality was about equal to that of the
fire-cracker outlaws, he said. He strongly insinuated that if justice
overtook them, they would be expelled from division, and beyond that,
disgraced forever.
No one came forward to confess, so eventually the worthy patriarch ran
out of steam, and dismissed division for the evening. As the members
filed out the door they gathered in small groups to assess the
situation. While everyone wondered who was guilty, there was a general
feeling that, for one evening at least, everyone had been royally
entertained.
Confession at last
It's doubtful that the names of the miscreants would ever have leaked
out, had they not discovered that innocent parties were being blamed for
this incident.
So they decided to confess. By this time the patriarch had cooled off
considerably. But still a bit sore, he asked why they had resorted to
such a trick, disrupting the entire meeting.
They reminded him of the speech he had been making, calling for original
and exciting entertainment. The firecrackers, which had unquestionably
caught everyone's full attention, was an obvious answer to his spend,
they suggested, or perhaps he had never really meant what he said in the
first place.
War markets
Slowly the depression years dragged by. I always think of this period in
two sections -- the first, which started in 1929, and lasted until
around 1935, and the second, which lasted from 1935 until the second
world war erupted in 1939.
From a financial viewpoint, the years of the first period were critical.
By 1936, there was a slight improvement, and 1937 was still better. This
only a comparative improvement, for these years were not really good
either. Then things went backward again - 1938 was not as good as 1937,
and 1939 wasn't much better. Then came the outbreak of the war in
September of 1939, which changed the whole picture.
This was especially true in the lumber business. The export market to
England sprang alive almost over-night. Importers there, knowing what
was likely to be ahead of them, were anxious to get in as good a supply
of lumber as possible before submarine attacks became serious. And early
in the conflict, the general devastation caused by the war created
markets for all lumber that could be produced.
Transportation changes
A great change in transportation had occurred in the previous 10 to 15
years. In 1929, Roy and Glenn bought a Whippet-Six truck. Previously,
they had only an old model T Ford truck, which was used mainly for
hauling laths. Lumber for export was still hauled by a team of horses to
railside in Upper Musquodoboit. But with the advent of the "Whippet six"
truck, the transportation of lumber by
horses was soon phased out.
After 1929 there were several years when there was little or no export
market. This caused a new development, seemingly unimportant at the
time, but which was destined to revolutionize this small business in the
years to come. With the virtual lapse of the export market, some other
means of making aliving had to be devised.
Hauling lumber to Truro with horses was uneconomical, but the new truck
made this practical. As trucks go today, this one wouldn't have amounted
to much. But it would haul nearly 2000 feet of rough green lumber, and
3000 feet of dressed, dry lumber.
New customers
Various contractors were solicited for business. Among them were Frank
MacCurdy, Howard Hayman, Tommy Irving, and J.N. Kenney. At the time of
this writing, Frank MacCurdy was the only one still living - and was
around 90 years of age. The last report I heard of him, he was still in
good health.
It wasn't easy to get new business at that time. The price had to be
right, which meant very low. It was mentioned earlier that dressed
boards were delivered in Truro for as little as $23.00 per thousand
board feet. That was rock bottom, and sheathing and 2 x 4 brought only
around $15.00 per thousand. These contractors knew nothing of the
quality of lumber produced by our little firm, so getting a new
market wasn't easy. Still in time a passable market was developed.
One thing could be said of these contractors: They were excellent people
to deal with. They had to be tough regarding price, for the prices paid
them were low too. As we found them, they were all honest men.
Howard Hayman
Howard Hayman prided himself on his honesty. He might also have prided
himself on his profanity, of which he had an excellent flow, and he
wasn't backward about using it. However, he had a prejudice against fir
lumber.
Today, fir and spruce are usually sold together as spruce lumber, a
practice widely accepted in the industry. But not to Howard Hayman. His
fanatical hatred of fir led him to insist on spruce, even when his
suppliers had to sort the two species of wood in order to satisfy him.
He would reluctantly allow spruce and fir being mixed in a supply of
boards and 2 x 4. But when it came to timbers, such as 6 x 6 and larger,
his insistence on spruce was absolute.
I remember a time when someone brought him a load of timber which had
several pieces of fir in it. When Howard saw it, he went berserk. He
blasted this poor soul, his father, his grandfather, and a few more
generations back to the hottest corners of hell, telling him to take his
fir back with him; and beyond this he made one or two other impractical
suggestions as to where he could put the fir when he got there.
House orders
These contractors usually made up a specification of the different sizes
of lumber to be used in a particular house, and asked for a price on it.
Since business was deplorable, competition was keen. For a few years,
this type of operation, together with a little custom work, and a very
little in the way of exports, was the line of business which was
followed. The planer had to be brought into operation
for this, because the lumber used in building houses all had to be
dressed.
Apart from those few hard years, when there was little export market,
another 15 to 20 years were to pass by before the dressed lumber
business became the norm and was adopted almost completely. Yet it's
start was back then, during those Depression years. As for the
contractors, a few remained customers for as long as they stayed in
business.
As the depths of the Depression years began to lessen, the export market
again became profitable, and absorbed much of our production. In the
manufacture of lumber there are some sizes produced which do not sell
well on the export market. Therefore these sizes were sold to the
contractors. They included the boards, and some 2 x 4 and wide 2" widths
was also included.
Halifax and Dartmouth
About this time the Dartmouth Lumber Co. entered the picture. As the
name indicates, it's main plant was in Dartmouth, but it also had a
branch in Halifax. As time went on the company bought from us a fair
quantity of sizes unsuitable for export. They were our first major
customers in that area, and the only ones there for quite a number of
years. They were an exceptionally good company to deal with, and we sold
lumber to them from that time until our own business was closed down, a
period of at least 30 years.
In the early years of the 1930's, I became the sawyer on a permanent
basis. I had been doing more and more of this anyway. Roy had enough to
do without the responsibility of sawing, and I welcomed the change, as
it seemed an advancement to me.
It was hard to get markets for lumber at this time, so the size of our
mill crowd was kept to a minimum in order to keep down expenses. I had
no canterman, and this continued to be the case until around 1940.
However, as better markets developed, production did increase to some
extent.
Million board feet
As I remember, 1937 was the first year in which our production of lumber
exceeded a million feet, board measure. We could have done better than
this, except for the fact that the dressing of the lumber, and the time
spent in the sawing of shingles, held back the production of rough
lumber.
The frantic struggle for markets during the early 1930s resulted in some
memorable customers. One of these was Caribou Gold Mines. This company
was really a rather insignificant branch of the coast to coast mining
firm known as, The Consolidated Mining and Smelting Co. It was a huge
concern then, and is bigger than ever now, with headquarters in Trail,
B.C.
The Caribou Gold Mines flourished for two or three years. We supplied
them with big timbers 8 x 8, 10 x 10 and 12 x 12, for timbering their
shafts, as well as a considerable amount of smaller lumber. The price
for this lumber was by no means high, but there was no question
regarding the company's ability to pay for it.
Caribou Mine
From the mining company's viewpoint, the gold-mining operation in which
they were engaged in Caribou was a small and unimportant one. If, after
a reasonable length of time, it failed to show a profit, it would be
closed down. The ore was a very good grade, and the operation might have
lasted many years but for one thing: the ore vein was only a few inches
square.
To get at it meant taking out vast quantities of useless rock, and the
expense of doing this made the operation uneconomical. Its closing down
came as quite a blow to residents of the area, many of whom had come to
depend on the employment that the mine provided.
As far as we were concerned we lost a good customer, but that was one of
the things that went with the lumber business, and it could only be
offset by looking around for additional orders somewhere else.
Moose River write-off
Around that time we became involved with another mining company in an
area very close to the preceding one. This was the Moose River Gold
Mining Company, and from a financial viewpoint the result was very
different. Our business transactions with them took place during the
toughest years of the Depression.
They gave us an order for four or five truck loads of lumber. On
delivery of this lumber our bill was submitted to them. But by this time
their money had evidently run out. The company had been formed by a few
individuals who had taken the trouble to incorporate, and when their
original supply of money was exhausted, and their prospects for were
un-encouraging, they decided not to continue the operation.
A little investigation indicated that taking legal means to collect this
account would be useless. These men had lost the money they had already
put up, and were not about to lose anymore. While this was a case of
legal honesty, which was really moral dishonesty, there was nothing that
could be done about it.
The account, around $150.00 - $160.00 was sadly written off our
company's books. This doesn't sound like much money now, but in that day
things were different. It represented a loss of several hard day's work,
at a time when everyone was struggling for survival.
Flies in the hash
One rather amusing incident occurred in connection with this sale, in
which we were doubtful winners. Roy and I had taken a load of this
lumber out to Moose River. And by the time we had unloaded it, it was
time for supper. The men employed at the mine had their meals in a camp,
which was supplied by the mining company. The cook there may or may not
have been a good cook, but he was a hospitable soul, and gave us a
cordial invitation to have supper at the camp.
We gratefully accepted his kind invitation, and the first thing served
to us was a large plateful of hash. Delicious as it appeared, there were
some drawbacks. Before I had eaten any of my serving, my appetite was
reduced 100% by the discovery of two large flies, fried to a crisp, and
mingled with the other ingredients.
There may have been more than two. I really don't know. After this
initial discovery I completely lost interest in hash. Roy was sitting
across the table from me, eating his serving with gusto, and with the
cook was within hearing, I was unable to convey to him what I had
discovered. A few other items on the table looked more palatable, and
with my appetite reduced, they supplied all I wanted for
supper.
On the way back Roy remarked, "That was darn good hash. Why didn't you
eat yours?" I explained that my appetite had been spoiled by the above
mentioned flies, and by the possibility that further investigation might
have disclosed more of the same. Revealing this to Roy was a mistake. He
nearly threw up, saying, "For God's sake why didn't I keep quiet about
it."
I never was much good at dodging the truth. |
