An "Unlooked For" Start

by Hope Klein, Dixonville, Alberta

It was a time when the Forest Industry was just beginning. A time when large buildings, solid and concrete, were taking over the shed roofs that had sheltered the old sawmills. Band-saws and J-Bar Sorters were replacing the Gang-saws and Green Chains. It was a time when people were just starting to be aware of the fact that we had to preserve our wonderful, extensive wilderness against man, as well as against lightning and fire. A time when the Alberta Forest Service was still young enough that almost all of the Ranger's work was done out in the field, when paperwork hardly even existed, when people, as well as the land, were still a bit wild.
It was a time that stories are made of.

***

The pick-up slid around the corner, spitting bits of sand and fine gravel onto the young man slumped against the wall of the Hotel. He had his head in his hands and didn't seem to notice any of it. Not the dust, nor the gravel, nor the truck. The pick-up fish-tailed a bit and then stopped, sputtering away to itself. The driver's door opened and a big man got out, leaving the door hanging open. He made his way around the box of the pick-up, dust puffing up around each step, and stopped in front of the young man.

For awhile he just stood there with his hands on his hips, staring down at the fellow in front of him, then he said, "What's your name there, boy?"

The fellow, still hunched against the wall, lifted his head slowly, carefully, as if worried that any sudden movement would jar his head loose. He squinted up at the giant of a man in front of him, but he couldn't get his tongue working right, so he didn't bother trying to say anything at all.

The older man towering over him shrugged, "I'm Ferguson, and you're working for me now." He reached down and grabbed the young man's collar in one big fist. He hauled him into a semi-upright position, and when the fellow couldn't convince his legs to hold the rest of his body up, Ferguson wrapped his fingers around the back of the other man's belt and hoisted him into the box of the pick-up. Ferguson, eyes squinted against the dust, made his way back to the driver's side of the pickup and climbed in without a word. The sand that made up the road was very dry, more dust than anything else. It hung in the air over the town and coated everything. The powdery stuff was a foot thick in places. Worse than mud, Ferguson figured, and had about as much purchase to it for the tires. The truck stuttered and bucked a bit, then finally started plowing it's way through the sand.

***


Ferguson's wife saw her husband's pick-up coming down the street. She smiled to herself, she'd never have believed that she would ever call the dust bowl outside her home a street, but she did think of it as such now. She watched, still smiling at her thoughts, as her husband got out of the truck, and began to haul the fellow out of the box. The younger man pushed him away. Ferguson just grinned a bit, leaned back and landed one of his large fists on the other man's jaw. Mrs. Ferguson's smile faded as she turned away from the window and hustled her children into the back room.

When she came back into the kitchen, her husband was holding his new employee under the pump. The young fellow was spluttering away, trying to swear.

"Better watch your tongue there, boy, or my wife just might wash your mouth out with soap!" Ferguson smiled at his wife as he spoke.

The young man twisted his head out of the larger man's grasp and turned to see Mrs. Ferguson standing quietly by the door.

"Sorry, ma'am," He slurred the words slightly, but he was standing on his own now.
She smiled at him, and said in her Scottish brogue, "Sit down now, and I'll have supper on in a minute."

He looked from her to her husband, confused now.

The giant of a man next to him laughed and slapped his shoulder, "You're working for me now, young man. You got yourself a choice, near as I can see. I need a towerman for tomorrow, and I need fire-fighters. You pick which." Ferguson went on, not giving the other a chance to answer, "And you don't know it yet, but Jeanie here won't let anyone out of this house without feeding them at least one good meal ."

"Terrible, it is, what they feed those working men." Mrs. Ferguson bustled around the stove. "Men cooking for themselves on those towers all alone. And on the fire-line, who knows when the food's to come." Her voice was bright, and rolled from her with that golden brogue, and her eyes shone as she fussed over the young fellow.

Ferguson grinned, settling his big frame into the chair between the counter and the table. Nothing he enjoyed more than seeing Jeanie fussing over a young'un. "Well, boy, what's your name, now?"

The young man worked his jaw for awhile with no sound coming out but, finally, he managed to blurt his name. "Steve. I'm Steve." He grinned foolishly, and Ferguson laughed again.

"Well, we got that much out of you at least."
"Now, Ernie. Be easy on the lad. Look at him eat now. Hasn't got any meat on his bones at all." Mrs. Ferguson scolded.
A big hand waved in the air, and Ferguson attacked his own meal, then stabbed a fork at Steve. "Well-"
The young man glanced up.
"What'll it be then? To the fire with you, or up to the tower-"
Steve hardly even hesitated. He'd fought fires before. "Tower." And then he was eating again.
Ferguson grunted.

Mrs. Ferguson sat down at the table across from Steve, and pushed the potatoes closer to him. "Well, you set up an account for him at the store. Make sure he brings food up there for himself. Can you cook there, lad?"


***


The next morning Ferguson backed Steve for an account at the store and they got grub, then headed up to the Forestry lookout tower that Steve was to man for the next 5 to 6 months. Ferguson showed the young man what his duties were, and then left.

Steve was on his own, with no contact to humanity except for a black box of a radio that had a tendency to quit at the worst possible moments. In fact, that was one of the first things that Steve did. He took the thing apart, just to see how it worked.

Throughout the summer, Ferguson would show up at the tower. Grinding his pick-up over the trail that was no more than a line slashed out of the timber. A line that tried to miss most of the low, wet spots, but failed rather miserably. More often than not, by the time the giant of a man reached the hilltop that the tower was perched on, both he and his truck were covered in mud, or layered with dust.

Steve would hear him coming and slip down the ladder to put water on to boil. Ferguson hated that black mud that other folks called coffee. It was tea or nothing. And then they would sit and tell lies to each other for hours, either in the cabin, or if thunderstorms were brewing and the fire hazard was high, they'd both climb up into the cupola to keep an eye out for fires. Occasionally, if the hazard was low they'd even drive or walk around the area surrounding the tower. Just touring, and exploring, enjoying each other's company and the wildness around them.

Sometime close to the middle or end of September, when Steve was starting to count down the days when he would 'get out' of the bush and 'back in' to civilization, Ferguson showed up again, and the two of them set out for a tour. They were driving through a break in the trees, dodging mudholes and rocks, when all of a sudden a big old bull moose stepped out in front of the truck. The rack had at least a 50 inch spread (although the actual size varied tremendously later on, depending on who was telling the story). Ferguson let the truck roll to a stop and grabbed his gun from Steve's lap. He rested the barrel of the rifle on the door of the truck and sighted in on the moose. He squeezed the trigger. And nothing happened. Frowning, he pulled back the bolt.

"This thing never misfired on me before," he muttered under his breath. He looked into the chamber. It was empty.

Still a bit confused, he looked up. The moose was gone, and so was his chance at a full deep-freeze for winter. He turned to Steve who was trying, unsuccessfully, to sink under the floorboards.

Now Ferguson was angry, he had three kids and a wife to feed, as well as the odd young bachelor who inevitably showed up at their door before supper time to wheedle a meal out of Jeanie. "What-n-ell did ya do that for?" he roared at the younger man as he got back into the pick-up and slammed the door.

Steve's own temper flared, "Well, the way you drive this thing, bouncing all over the place, I thought for sure that rifle of your's was going to go off and blow a hole through this bucket of bolts you call a pick-up. Or through my foot. Or through something."
Ferguson just looked at the angry young man next to him and then started laughing, his own anger fading away, "Well, you know, I sure wouldn't have minded if that old moose would've been that "or something" of yours."

***


Later that fall, Ferguson came to take Steve back to town. They were down on roads that actually had a bit of gravel on them, when they crossed over a small culvert. On one side of the road, the culvert was hanging slightly, and the water, as it fell out of it, had gouged out a deep pool. Two boys were crouched by the pool, fishing. Ferguson grinned at Steve, and they hopped out of the truck.

The big man stood on the road, glaring down at the boys, "Don't you fellows know that fishing season's closed?" At that time Forest Rangers were responsible for everything from enforcing hunting and fishing regulations to fighting forest fires.
The boys' eyes widened as they shook their heads.
"Well," he went on, "I'm gonna have to send you both back to town now."
The two boys started gathering their gear, casting scared glances over their shoulders at the towering man.

"No, I think maybe you boys had better leave those poles, and that tackle with me," Ferguson's voice was gruff, "I'll take it back to town for you, and give it to your parents. I don't want you two stopping at some other little stream along the way."

The boys looked longingly at their gear, but they stammered out a quiet, "Yes sir," and headed out of there, throwing frightened looks over their shoulders.

Ferguson waited until they were out of sight, and then started to chuckle. He scrambled down the bank of the creek with Steve close on his heels. They made it back to town late that night, and they each had a nice mess of trout with them.


***


Steve's tower season was over. He bummed around for the winter, doing odd jobs here and there. A bit of trapping, some logging, working at the Wild Game Checkpoint for awhile. Basically, whatever he could find. But the next summer he was back on the tower. He had caught the bug, and it changed his life. This was just the start of a career that would last longer than 30 years, but even more telling, was the fact that he was seldom thrown out of the Hotel after that first summer.

This the story of Hope Klein's father's start with the Alberta Forest Service. He began his career, as told here, as a Towerman, working his way up to Senior Towerman, into the Radio Room, until he finally retired as a Comms Technician after 30 years of service. He has always loved his time as a towerman, and always talks of the whole experience as a start in a career that he didn't know he was looking for.

Back to the Home Page