grandpa john and the family homestead

I have to admit I was surprised and very touched at the response I got from Ricky's story. I can say with all honesty that he would have loved the attention. I am glad I decided to write it since I had been going back and forth on the idea. I have since realized that I should have been writing stuff like this long ago. Not only for myself, but for the girls as well. So today I'm going to continue the series with a little tale about my Grandpa John.

My Grandpa was born one of seven children to Polish immigrants in 1915. His parents had made the journey to Canada ten years prior and settled in Manitoba, where he was born. I can't say I know much about his childhood and in fact even his birth date was of some debate thanks to the poor record keeping of the time, although we always celebrated it on December 26. I do know that he grew up to be quite the handsome and stylish man in his day.



Eventually the day would come that he and my Grandma would marry and start their own family.



Now this is where the famous part of the story comes in, but it wasn't that way then. If you ever happen to find yourself at Birds Hill Provincial Park in Manitoba, follow the Old School Road past the campground trail head and you will find the Kudlowich Homestead.



Now originally this was the home of my Grandpa's brother, Great Uncle Frank and his wife. It was built by hand in 1936 by Uncle Frank, Grandpa and their youngest brother Uncle Joe. Uncle Frank lived on the farm until leaving for Ontario in 1943. It was at this point that my Grandparents moved in. All of this information is printed in the Birds Hill Provincial Park's self guiding trail pamphlet. There is more story to tell, but the version in the pamphlet and the version I had been told from my Grandpa differ just slightly.



My Grandpa was a horse man. In fact I think he'd have been happy and comfortable if the horse and wagon had remained the way for us to travel. He loved his horses and was proud of them. He fastened bells to their halters and the neighbours would know by the sound that Grandpa was coming. His horses were also well trained, knowing it was time to head for home when Grandpa would thump the side of the wagon with his hand not by him touching the reins as it is told in the pamphlet. While he was visiting neighbours their children ran past the horse and wagon accidentally bumping the side of the box as they passed and sending them home without Grandpa.



My grandparents called the homestead home for the next several years before moving to Ontario for good in the fall of 1950. The pamphlet claims they made the move in the summer of '50, but since my Mom was born in September of 1950 in Manitoba it was more likely a little bit later than that.