Purity Meats: A Place You Can Trust

Bill Friedrich walked to work in the winter snow of December 1935, thinking it couldn’t get much colder. It was 25 below in Regina that day. His leather shoes didn’t do much to keep his feet warm. It was 8:30 and he was late for work. He knew his father would already be at the butcher shop getting things ready for the day.

Bill Friedrich, right, standing in front of Purity Meat with sister Frieda and soon-to-be brother in law Frank Blenk (center). Photo courtesy of the author.

Bill was twenty-one. He had been working at the shop since he was fourteen. It had been seven years since he had started working at the shop full time, and he was wondering where it all had gone.

As he walked down Quebec Street, he could see the corner streetlight still on. The morning sun had not yet risen and it was still dark. To the right, he could see the lights of the butcher shop, Purity Meat. As he walked briskly along, the snow continued to fall gently. In summer, the streetlight would have been abuzz with mosquitoes. This morning it was ablaze with tiny snowflakes dancing around the light.

Bill had always dreamed of going to school. He loved reading and studying things, but his dad Nick had needed him, so he started work at the shop just after grade eight. As the story goes, Bill’s father had been visited twice by the Jesuits at Campion, because Bill had such promising marks. Each time, his dad had told them he needed Bill in the butcher shop. Later, Bill would brag how he could lift a side of beef with no problem in his early teen years. But he always kept a copy of his grade eight graduation certificate, with an average of eighty-four, in his home front room desk.

As time went on Bill would join and lead many groups, President of the Home and School, Treasurer of the Boy Scouts, Leader in the Christopher’s and finally the Third Order of St Francis. Bill had always wanted to be a leader in a public way. In later years Bill would demonstrate a deeper leadership by looking after his sick wife Kay, much to the detriment of his own health. Both would pass away two years from one another.

In the last two years of his life Bill, with his sons Robert and Charles, would go out twice a week for dinners and travel around the City sightseeing. Robert and Charles would see their dad every day in hospital, sometimes coming in late after parties. One day Robert would get a call from Bill’s doctor saying he had to make the decision to stop the dialysis process. Together they would agree it was time, and shortly after Bill would pass away.

Bill and his dad Nick had been close, often walking together to the train station to watch the trains come in from across Canada. Bill would miss his dad after his death early in 1936. Bill would say his dad had pneumonia before and that he just wasn’t a fighter. He said this with disappointment, wishing his dad had tried harder. This left Bill to run Purity Meat at the age of twenty-one.

Friedrich family in front of their home on Toronto Street, 1925. Pauline Friedrich (back left), her Dad Mr. Scarbon, Nick (right). Children in front. Photo courtesy of the author.

But right now, it’s December 1935 and as Bill swung the door open, Nick looked at him and smiled. Soon Bill’s older sister Anne would arrive after helping their mother. Bill headed towards the change room and got on his white apron. He walked over to the safe where the day’s float was kept. He quickly opened the door. Moving aside the nickel plated .45 his Dad kept there, he got the cash float for the day. It was Saturday and they could expect a steady stream of customers. Just then, Anne arrived chuckling to all and telling dirty jokes to everyone who would listen, especially the delivery boys who loved her humor. She smiled at Frank, the German boy staying with the Friedrich family. Frank smiled back from his work, looking at her fondly.

Bill put the float into the till and got ready for the day. Then he walked back into the freezer to grab a half pig, bringing it to the cutting block right behind the front counter. Butchering was hard work, and you had to have sharp knives. A constant sharpening could be heard in the shop.

Frank was already in the back, deboning meat for the grinder. Frank had come to them by way of Bill’s uncle, Joe Scarbon, who had taken Frank on at his farm near Limerick.

Scarbon’s Farm at Limerick, SK. Photo courtesy of the author.

The story goes that Frank had managed a ticket from Germany to Limerick, Saskatchewan. Upon landing in Limerick, Frank did not speak a word of English. He slept the first night outside the Railway Station, not sure what was going to happen. He eventually got work but was injured, leaving him without a job. Joe Scarbon took him in. As time went on Frank came to live with Joe’s sister Pauline (Bill’s mom) and the Friedrich family, and there began his career as a butcher at Purity Meat.

Frank and Anne would eventually marry and live on the upper level of Purity Meat, working and playing tennis on Sundays often sharing a bottle of coke. Later they would move to St. Paul, Minnesota, starting a grocery store. Much later, Frank would decorate their home on 235 East Haskell Street each Christmas. He won the St. Paul’s Christmas decoration contest many times. At its height, Frank would dress up as Santa Claus, holding his dog and handing out candy canes supplied by the big downtown department store, Dayton’s.

Anne would go on to work at Piggly Wiggly and be involved in a store hold-up. Thinking it was a joke, she pushed the gun away only to be slapped by the robber, and have the robber assure her it was a real robbery.  She would laugh at it later and send the clippings back to Bill in Canada. Frank would eventually work at Peter’s Meats. While at Peters, Frank shared the Purity Meat Christmas sausage recipe. It turned out to be a great seller for them.

Anne Friedrich with soon to be husband Frank Blenk in front of Purity Meat, enjoying a coke. Photo courtesy of the author.

Back in December 1935, Purity Meat was a busy shop before Christmas. All sorts of people coming and going. Product came in the back door, delivery boys arriving by foot in winter and biking in summer. Each of these boys had orders for an area of the city they would cover. Some of the boys were better than others and occasionally one got fired for losing money or dropping meat from his bike carrier onto the street.

One such boy was Jake Suderman. According to his brother Peter, after many trials Jake eventually got fired from the shop. He would complain to his mother and she would say, “Well, you dropped a carrier full of meat in the Winnipeg Subway. Then you flipped the meat packages over so the customer did not see the mud on the bottom side. Another time you lost your cash float, and then Nick caught you in the freezer punching the daylights out of the liver. What did you expect?”

With that last episode Nick let Jake go.  Nick was a patient man, but continued carelessness was not tolerated. Nick had been trained in a German military school and had spent a stint in the German Army pre-World War I.

Other boys came to work as meat cutters. One boy, Mike Fellinger, would say he started work at Purity Meat at ten and fell in love with the place. The smell of saw dust and fresh meat left him entranced. He even slept in the shop some nights. Later, he would buy the shop long after the Friedrichs had left. Till this day the shop bears the Fellinger name.

Fellinger’s Meats, previously Purity Meat. Photo courtesy of Google Maps.

Every day the shop opened at nine am. Today they were expecting the Lieutenant Governor’s staff to come by for some crown roasts for a Christmas festive event. Many other customers during this depression time would come with food stamps, cash or ask for credit. The credit books were kept in a large box under the display case; there were literally dozens and dozens, all with names of people who owed money to the shop. Some people would later say Purity Meat had been their banker during the Depression. Many of these bills ended up in Bill’s attic, and later his son Robert would throw them out after Bill’s passing.

Just after nine, Rudy, Bill’s brother, ran into the shop laughing and kidding with the whole gang. He was late as usual. Nick looked at him, grabbed him by the pants and threw him on the butcher block, giving him a few hard spanks and saying in German this was the last time he could be late. Rudy jumped off the bloc and chuckled at everyone while heading to get his white coat.

Delivery boys for Purity meat, circa later 1920s. Rudy Friedrich center, others unknown. Photo courtesy of the author.

Rudy always had a special place in Nick’s heart, even though Rudy would test Nick’s patience. One story goes Rudy had wanted to play the banjo. Walking downtown, Rudy and his dad saw one in the store window, it was a beauty. Nick bought it for Rudy. Nick paid for music lessons for almost six months. Unbeknownst to Nick, Rudy had taken the music lesson money each week and bought himself and his friends’ cokes, not worrying about what would happen. One day Nick asked Rudy to play a tune for him; Rudy took the banjo and strummed a few strings. Nick, being a musician, immediately recognized Rudy had not learned a thing. He took a long hard look at Rudy and said, “That’s good enough, you don’t need any more lessons.” Each looking into the eyes of the other, not saying a thing, knowing the gig was up. Rudy would later recount the story saying he knew the old man knew, but not wanting to be seen as a fool, called the lessons complete. Rudy enjoyed that move by his dad.

On that December day, in the back area of the shop, all kinds of processes were happening. Sausage was being pulled from the smoker and taken to the front to be hung as a display. Several kinds of fish were on ice. Sides of beef lay on the cutting block as Frank worked on them to get the best cut without wasting meat.

The front door was unlocked and the first customer, Mrs. Schmidt, came in. Rudy went to the counter to meet her, joking with her as the women all liked him. She wanted four pounds of hamburger and Rudy weighed out four pounds, adding some extra meat as he kidded with her. “Can I put it on my account?” she asked. “Why, of course.” Rudy grabbed her account book and ignored that she had not paid last month’s bill. “Will that be all?” “Yes,” she said, and out she went.

Then came Mrs. Zeck. “What can I get you?” said Rudy, and on the day would go. All nationalities all shapes and sizes, each person coming to the counter many times. Nick would speak to them in their language to get the sale going. It was truly a smorgasbord of languages all smothered over in good humor.

1935 Friedrich Family showing off a bit in front of their home on 18 block Toronto Street. Both generations (Left to Right) Rudy, Nick, Anne, Pauline, Bill and Frieda doing okay during the Depression. Photo courtesy of the author.

Bill was at the back of the shop and heard a knock at the back door. He looked outside and there was Mrs. Koski, asking if they had any soup bones or leftover scraps. Bill smiled and said “Wait.” He walked over to the barrel that had all those odds and ends and put them in a paper bag. He handed them over to her. She smiled a half smile and walked out of the back way.

Anne answered the phone and started kibitzing with the customer. It was Mrs. Bokitch. Anne finished up the order. She told Frank to put together the order for Mrs. Bokitch and have one of the boys deliver it, by noon, to 2067 Ottawa Street. Frank looked back at her and winked; Anne turned a little red and took the next phone call smiling.

The morning went by. About 10:30, a German shepherd dog showed up at the front door and a customer let him in. He was a fine specimen of a dog; the story goes he was dropped off by a travelling German soldier. “Hector is here,” said Anne. “Okay what we want for lunch,” Nick asked. Someone rang back, “How about pork chops.” Bill cut a half dozen pork chops and wrapped them in lots of brown paper and tied the order around Hector with a special leather collar. “Home Hector,” Bill said and out the dog went back to the Friedrich house, some five blocks away. Later in the afternoon, Hector would return with the same mission, only now for supper. This was repeated six days a week. It was rumored that on his way to the butcher shop, Hector had killed his fair share of cats.

Rudy Friedrich with Hector the German army dog. Photo courtesy of the author.

As noon approached, Nick checked his gold Studebaker pocket watch and said, “It is getting close to lunch.” At twelve the shop closed, and the family would walk back to the house where Pauline (Bill’s mom) and Frieda (his sister) had prepared the noon hour meal.

Later, Frieda would become the in-store money manager working with the daily accounts. Her daughter Lorraine would say Frieda could make the adding machine whir running many columns at one time, both mechanically and by memory. Frieda loved adding numbers.

Eventually Anne and Frank would live on the upper level of Purity Meat, with Frieda and her husband Jake Fiesel on the second level. Between the two couples, they would have four children in that building. Anne would have Anne and Marie and Frieda would have Lorraine and Bobby. The two families would share many fun times with the kids playing many tricks, especially Lorraine shaving young Anne’s hair unexpectedly. Later they would all move out and live in their own homes. Lorraine was always Bill’s buddy, following him all around the Butcher shop and going for walks with him, and especially having a coke next door.

Back in 1935, as the Friedrichs walked from the shop to home, they passed the Ukrainian Communist Hall, the German Harmonie club and the Jewish synagogue. They lived in the east end of Regina in what was sometimes called German town. This part of Regina held a wide variety of communities all living together and making their collective small businesses work. The Jewish community had their own school, synagogue and ran many small businesses from groceries to clothing retail outlets. As time went on, the children of these families left Regina in search of careers in bigger cities across Canada and beyond.

Once in the house, the family sat around the dinner table talking about their evening plans. Bill was going to the Trianon Dance Hall to hear Count Basie play. Many bands travelled the rails stopping at towns like Regina, Swift Current and so on.

Rudy was playing hockey that night as he was a budding player with a local junior team. Someday he would get a shot with the Leafs. As he would later say over coffee, in camp they nicknamed him Fireball Friedrich. In later years Rudy would have a small convertible car he would tear around town with, always full of guys and gals having a great time. He would go on to play in the west coast league out of San Francisco, breaking a few bones. He retired to be a Cadillac salesman in Edmonton.

Frieda Friedrich in Rudy Friedrich’s Speedster . Photo courtesy of the author.

Back in 1935, most evenings Anne would stay home and listen to the radio with Frank and the family. Frieda might invite Jackie (Jack Fiesel, her future husband) over to hang out. Nick often walked down the street to the German Harmony club where he would play cards. Some nights the whole family would listen to the radio and hear the odd speech from Hitler, rolling on the floor at his outrageous outbursts, never thinking much would come of this clowning. Other nights the family might listen to Nick and fellow singers present some German classical musical such as Schubert at St Mary’s church.

After lunch, the group headed back to the shop to continue the day’s business. As they arrived a black car came to the shop from the Lieutenant Governor’s House; the head cook Cheu Lee had come to buy the meat for the Christmas dinner being put on at Government House. Nick always served these dignitary customers, going over the details of the meat. He had handpicked each side of beef from the Burns killing plant only two blocks from his shop.

Nick had worked there as a foreman and had good relationships with all the staff there. After the Government House people left, it was mid-afternoon, and Hector showed up again for a cargo of fresh meat. This time a roast was picked as the shop would not close down till seven.

Around this time various staff members would go next door for a soft drink. Even though money was tight, there always seemed to be enough for a soft drink often split between two or more. December could be a cold time, but people walked everywhere, some dropping by the shop on their way up town or back. The streets in those days were filled with walkers as opposed to cars. Public transit ran on rails with street cars. Some of those rails still lie buried in Regina Streets today. Later, electric trolleys would take over with overhead lines which in winter would spark on the lines looking like a Mexican firecracker running down the street - quite the free show.

During the day, a rich mixture of languages could be heard - everything from Romanian, Serbian, to all kinds of German, Low German, and High German. Some of these community members would come by and leave tickets to upcoming events. One such event was an all Nations dance being held at the Ukrainian Hall two weeks later.

Purity was a bustle of activity with delivery boys coming and going, customers arriving and the constant process of order taking, joking, kidding and deliveries being made from the back of the shop to all over. Farmers would also come in to talk to Nick about some of their animals. Often, he would buy direct from them their chickens, cattle and pigs. Nick knew a lot of people and was good with all of them. He had a special spot for veterans, as he had been in the army himself. He was fortunate enough to leave Germany before the Great War (First World War). A story goes that his mother had a dream of a Great War. Nick was her youngest and dearest son and she urged him to leave Germany.

As the day wound down, the family got ready to close the shop and go home for supper. Sometimes deliveries would come late and some of the family members would stay to deal with the fresh meat or the sausage that was coming out of the smoker.

In those days, few people had cars. Nick and his family would walk home in the early evening to the house on Toronto Street, talking about the day’s customers and some of the events that happened: deliveries mixed up, folks with no money, customers with a good joke, and some not so happy.

As they entered their Toronto Street house, they walked through the veranda, kicking off the snow and entering the house to be greeted by Hector and the smell of a good roast. After washing up they would sit around the table while Nick cut the well-done roast. They talked more about the day and maybe some of the current events. Frank came in with Bill as they had stayed late to bring the sausage from the smoker.

Frank had joined the German Bundt and would head off to a meeting later. This was a small group of local German youth who in reality had no idea what they were doing, just marching and having fun with some whimsical military daydreams. However, once war was declared, the family would watch Frank burn his uniform in a barrel in the back yard, all hoping no one else saw him.

Most evenings, Rudy would get a fresh shirt. It was said his mother had once ironed three shirts in one day for him as his social life was so busy. It was also rumored that, as a teen boy, he had a fort in the back yard where he entertained girls. Being so busy, he was told to close the fort as he was losing too much weight.

On this night, Jackie came by to court Frieda. She talked to him about how they needed to be apart for a week, so Frieda could have her freedom. Bill would eavesdrop on these conversations and chuckle as he knew she had a new boyfriend. Eventually, though, Frieda and Jackie married.

Jake Fiesel, later owner of Fiesel Billards, with future wife Frieda Friedrich goofing around. Photo courtesy of the author.

Bill loved to dance and in the evening many nights he would head over to the Kliesinger Hall and take in a local big band or some touring band. The bigger bands were at the Trionon where folks like Sachamo Armstrong might play.

Nick often walked down the street to the German Harmony club where he would play cards. This club would change its name during the war to the Victoria Club, because a Regiment from the South of Sask would ransack the club and local German businesses as some sort of retaliation for the war. Bill was lucky the Regiment did not come to Purity Meat, but they did go to Jackie’s father’s Billiard Business, sacking Fiesel’s Billiards. A picture in the Leader Post showed him standing by a pile of pool tables.

Nick also enjoyed singing and participating in concerts and other events. To say Canada has a multicultural past was an understatement, as so called All Nations Dances were held regularly where German, Ukrainian, Romanian, Serbian and Polish could be heard. Nick often bought tickets to these events to ensure good community relations.

Life in east Regina was a veritable multicultural feast. Some evenings Father Kruvitz would come over and share a little family time, talking about life in St. Mary’s Catholic parish and laughing with the family. Later in life, he would run an ad in the parish bulletin advertising Bill as the most eligible bachelor in the church. Ann, Father Kruvitz’s sister, would eventually hook Bill up with Kay Schmidt.

Kay was the daughter of Emil Schmidt, a local businessman. This was a lucky streak as for many years, Kay had lived down east but came home for Christmas. As the events were told, Kay had had a spat with her dad one day and left the business in a huff, vowing never to return, heading down east to find work and fun. She ended up working in Windsor, Toronto, and Buffalo, New York, travelling freely as few women of her age could.  Later she and Bill would buy a new house and car and start a family with two boys. Bill would eventually sell Purity Meat and move into a smaller shop, finally working happily as a Meter reader for Sask Power. To his credit, he never missed the business, but always enjoyed meeting former customers on his meter reading rounds or coffeeing all across town.

Nick would die of pneumonia the winter of 1936, and Bill would take over the leadership of the family business. Bill would go on to join the Airforce at the start of Second World War. Rudy joined the Navy. Bill would come home after his family called to say he was needed in the business, and Rudy would go on to leave the Navy and play pro hockey, even trying out with the Maple Leafs. Rudy would also break ground by marrying an Irish girl from the Cathedral area, marrying at the Cathedral itself. The day of Rudy’s wedding, Bill caught him crying in the front porch. When Bill asked why, Rudy would say he was giving up a wonderful life. Bill would assure him he would be fine as a father and husband, and he did that.

Frank would sneak into Anne’s bedroom in the house on Toronto Street one morning and steal a kiss. Anne and Frank would marry and leave for St Paul. As the years passed, the family all travelled back forth visiting one another. Sickness would take many of them early, but they all knew one thing: they had all worked at Purity Meat, a name you can trust.

Back to that winter day in December 1935. In a few days, Christmas would come on a Sunday and the shop would be busy all day Saturday with customers coming in for Christmas hams or turkeys and specialty sausages. The Friedrichs would serve them all till after six and walk home together. At home Nick would decorate the Christmas tree with real candles and light them later in the evening, making sure they did not catch fire. The family would gather round and sing a carol or two and go off to bed. They all felt lucky to have real jobs, good clothes, a roof over their heads and a case of pop once a week during the Great Depression.

Bob Friedrich.

BOB FRIEDRICH is a retired federal public servant who worked most of his career at the Dept. of Canadian Heritage. After his 30-year career Bob engaged himself in the very elements he had supported in his work at Canadian Heritage. 

He began teaching one-off courses at the University of Regina and in the community on grant writing.  Bob has received numerous awards for his work with non profits and is deeply committed to the newcomer community in Canada. Bob is an author, publishing his book on grant writing called the 10 Essential Rules for Successful Grant Writing.

As well, Bob enjoys writing stories about his family and their early days in Regina.

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