The Big Move: From California to Saskatchewan, 1969

In the summer of 1969 when I was 14 years old, I moved with my family from California to Prince Albert, Saskatchewan. We had been Canadian expats in the Golden State for five glorious years. Dissatisfied with his job at a Kimberly-Clark pulp mill near Redding, California, my father, Jim Perkins, who had originally worked for the company in Longlac, Ontario (where I was born), accepted a position with Prince Albert Pulpwood, the company that supplied wood to the new Saskatchewan pulp mill.

As a Grade 9 student in Redding, I had a vague idea where Saskatchewan was. Not that I was taught anything about Canada in American schools, but I had, after all, lived in Canada until I was nine years old. Plus, my Grandma Verda made sure I did not forget my Canadian roots while we were living in California, sending me delightful treasures like a poster of Pierre Elliott Trudeau and a copy of Gordon Lightfoot’s iconic 1968 album, “Did She Mention My Name.” Not much about Saskatchewan, though, unless you count the lyrics of Lightfoot’s song, “The Mountains and Maryann,” that go, “And the prairie towns go sailing by / Saskatchewan there’s mud in your eye I’m leavin’ you behind.” Hmmm. Maybe not.

Me, my brother Chris, and my sister Julie in California, 1967. Note my shiny metal smile! Family photo.

On the eve of our departure, I was a skinny, insecure, braces-on-her-teeth 14-year-old. A significant move like this one – especially leaving behind two cherished friends – was highly stressful for me. My father later acknowledged this. “I think the move was toughest for Joan,” Dad wrote in his memoirs. “I attribute this to her age and quiet personality.”

One bright June morning, we loaded up our car and waved goodbye to California. Mom and Dad, my sister Julie, my brother Chris, our sweet, disabled dog Tee-Jay, and our crazy cat, Sam, were headed north to Prince Albert, Saskatchewan, none of us really knowing what we would find there.

I was leaving behind two great friends, an incredible high school band, skiing on Mount Shasta in the winters, vacations to southern California in the summers, and untold other adventures. But I was assured by my parents that new friends and new adventures awaited me in Saskatchewan.

First impressions

After we crossed the border into the province of Saskatchewan, the first thing that struck all of us was the remoteness of the place. “On our last day of travel, as we drove across the miles of flat open prairie towards Prince Albert, I started to feel a little uneasy,” my father wrote. “The terrain was a far-cry from that of Northern California. What was I leading my family into this time?”

For people who were accustomed to driving on multi-lane freeways with a gas station on every corner, the apparent isolation of our new home was alarming. Dodging the abundant gophers that regularly ran across Highway 11 as we headed north only added to our growing anxiety. (I later learned that gopher roadkill is considered by some as a sign of spring in the province.)

My family heaved a collective sigh of relief when we rolled into Prince Albert on July 2nd and discovered that there was an actual city there. It was lunchtime, and after wandering around downtown PA, we ended up at the coffee shop of the Marlboro Hotel. To our great surprise we found ourselves in the company of the man who was, and still is, Prince Albert's best-known celebrity: John Diefenbaker. Welcome to Saskatchewan!

But… Where were the trees? As a forester heading for a forestry job, my father found the lack of any trees (other than scattered scrub poplar), well, intimidating. When the moving van arrived from California with our belongings, even the Georgia-state truck driver was puzzled. “Man, they tole me you was comin' up heah to work in the woods,” he said to my Dad. “Where's the woods?” My father chuckled nervously at this question. Fortunately, however, he had by then made a few short trips north of Prince Albert and had seen some “woods” – enough at least to allay his immediate concerns.

My father, Jim Perkins, in the late 1970s. He became Vice President of Weyerhaeuser Canada Ltd., the company which took over the pulpwood operation, in 1986 and retired in 1989. Family photo.

A bit of background about my father’s new job. In 1965, the Saskatchewan government signed an agreement with Parsons and Whittemore Inc. (P&W), a New York-based company. Under the terms of the agreement, P&W constructed the pulp mill at Prince Albert which came on stream in 1968. Part of the P&W agreement with the province was that the government would supply the wood to the mill, leading to the establishment of Saskatchewan Pulpwood Ltd. (later renamed Prince Albert Pulpwood Ltd.). Tom Ballantyne, formerly from Longlac, was manager of the operation when my father arrived on the scene. As superintendent (later manager) of services, Dad was responsible for forestry planning (areas to be logged, roads to be built, areas to be reforested, etc.), main road location, main road construction, equipment maintenance, reforestation, and public relations.

Impact on Teenaged Me

After we arrived in Prince Albert, I was immediately taken under the wing of Tom Ballantyne's daughter, Karen, one of my childhood friends from Longlac. I spent most of the summer of 1969 with her, camping with the Ballantynes at the Minowukaw Beach campground at Candle Lake. I will never forget sitting on the sand dunes at Minowukaw on July 20th looking up at the night sky while two American astronauts walked on the moon. In hindsight, the decision for me to spend my first Saskatchewan summer at one of the most beautiful beaches in the province was an inspired choice on my parents’ part.

While I was cavorting at Candle Lake that summer, my parents bought an attractive, three-bedroom bungalow on Baker Place in Crescent Heights. They spent 28 happy years in that home.

Curiously (to us), many of the streets in Prince Albert still weren’t paved. Walking to school on rainy days was a bit of a challenge. Still, it did not hold us kids back from going to our favourite neighbourhood hangout, the Quarter Moon on the corner of 6th Avenue East and Branion Drive, our regular source of candy, chips, milkshakes and ice cream cones.

Even as I was filled with proverbial adolescent uncertainty about where I belonged, I was transitioning from being a geeky kid to being a… what? I wasn’t sure. But the braces came off my teeth shortly after arriving in Prince Albert, and I started to blossom. Suddenly, I was pretty. Still totally geeky, but pretty. As an uprooted teen, permanently disconnected from my two best friends in California, I had no idea how to deal with that. As a result, I struggled.

My Grade 10 school photo at age 15, three months after arrival in Prince Albert.

Mom to the Rescue

When people ask me what it was like to move from California to Prince Albert in 1969, I sometimes tell my band story. That same year, my California high school band marched in the Pasadena Rose Bowl Parade. The following spring, my new band, the Prince Albert Junior Lions “A” Band, marched in the Moose Jaw Band Festival Parade.

When we lived in California, my mother signed me up for so many activities that I literally had something on every day of the week. School band (I played flute), piano lessons (which I loved), Girl Guides (camping!), junior church choir (with practices every Thursday night, and services every Sunday morning) – the list goes on. Mom’s guiding hand was just as effective in our new Saskatchewan home.

The family band in California with my mother, Mary Perkins, at the piano. Family photo.

The first activity Mom signed me and my tuba-playing sister (and later, my trombone-playing brother) up for was the Prince Albert Lion’s Band. My band story above – a rather snooty attempt at humour – makes the Prince Albert band sound like a come-down, but it really was not that bad. For one thing, I had no right to be a band snob. I was not the greatest flute player – I didn’t practice enough.

Secondly, while the Moose Jaw band festival was no Rose Bowl Parade, neither was it a “Hicksville” event. It was a significant competition that attracted bands from all over North America. Most importantly, the PA Lions Band was an excellent band thanks to its director, Bandmaster Robert (Bob) Gibson. I was fortunate to have been a member of the Lions “A” Band for three years during the early 1970s.

My sister, Julie, with the PA Lion’s Band director, Bob Gibson, April 29, 1971. Prince Albert Daily Herald photo.

Without a doubt, however, the best thing my mother signed me up for was the recreation leadership course offered by the Prince Albert Parks and Recreation Department during the Easter break of 1970. This four-day course was a prerequisite for anyone wishing to apply for employment as a supervisor with the city’s summer playground program. On March 19, 1970, I was awarded a leadership certificate by the City of Prince Albert and, at the age of 15, got my first real job – thanks Mom!

During my three summers with playgrounds, I formed life-long friendships with fellow supervisors. I discovered that I could handle emergencies on my own – like removing shards of broken glass from small feet. I got a great tan. Most importantly, I learned leadership skills that have served me well throughout my life.

Working as a playground supervisor in 1970. Prince Albert Daily Herald photo courtesy of Bill Smiley Archives.

Adapting to Saskatchewan Culture…

There was so much to learn about our new Saskatchewan home. What are sloughs? Like the name of the province, even spelling and pronouncing the word is tricky. Why does everybody say they are going to “the lake?” Which lake? Even though Saskatchewan has thousands of lakes, it didn’t seem to matter. Spits? Turns out sunflower seeds were the best snack ever. Boh? By the time I was sneaking, underage, into the Marlboro Hotel bar, Bohemian beer – brewed in PA – was a staple. Was it fall suppers or fowl suppers? No matter which, they were amazing. Vi-Co? A Saskatchewan-only term for chocolate milk. Bunnyhugs? A Saskatchewan-only term for hooded sweatshirts – not hoodies!

Bohemian beer label.

No introduction to Saskatchewan would be complete without indoctrination into Rider Nation. My father’s boss, Tom Ballantyne, started taking Dad to football games in Regina shortly after we arrived in PA. The Saskatchewan Roughriders ended the 1969 season with a record of 13 wins and 3 losses, finishing first in the CFL's Western Conference. Ron Lancaster was quarterback, George Reed was fullback, and Eagle Keys was head coach. It was an exciting year to step into Riderville.

… And Ukrainian Culture

An example of Ukrainian humour: “Metro” – a character created by Regina comedian Les Pavelick – sold 50,000 copies of his album, “11 Days from Christmas” (1975).

As a teenager, the thing that impressed me the most as a new arrival in Prince Albert was the Ukrainian culture. I attended some highly energetic Ukrainian weddings where I ate some delicious food – perogies, sausage, borscht, cabbage rolls – and learned how to dance the polka, the butterfly, and the schottische.

Ukrainian jokes were commonly heard in in Prince Albert in 1969 and I was never sure whether to laugh or not. The jokes referred to Ukrainians as “Bohunks” or “Ukes” or worse, and often poked fun at Ukrainian accents. For example: QUESTION: What's a paradox? ANSWER: Two Ukrainian mallards (“pair of ducks”).

Clearly, Ukrainian jokes were derisive and I, as a newcomer, could not understand how people could get away with telling them – especially with so many people of Ukrainian ancestry in the community. But these crude ethnic jokes made people in Saskatchewan laugh – or at least they did in the early 1970s.

I Survived

Moving is a stressful life event. I can only imagine what it must be like today for new Canadians from Syria or other countries when they arrive in Saskatchewan to start a new life. I do know that it was difficult for me, an adolescent girl who was going through physical and emotional changes, to adapt.

Singing in a folk group at P.A. Tech, 1971. I’m at the far right.

Nevertheless, after three years of high school in Prince Albert, I survived. Just as my parents said I would, I made new friends – some of whom I still call friends today. I attended teen dances at the Rec Centre where I heard great Canadian bands like Chilliwack, Lighthouse and Witness. I sang in a folk group and played my flute at school variety nights. I flipped burgers on the ice of the North Saskatchewan River for the Prince Albert Winter Festival. And I graduated in 1972 and went on to university in Saskatoon.

Most significantly, my love for Saskatchewan grew by leaps and bounds. My love for the beauty of the province was born in the sand dunes of Minowukaw Beach at Candle Lake. My love of prairie history grew, perhaps in part, from my exposure to the wonderful Ukrainian people, food, weddings – and even to those awful Ukrainian jokes – that I encountered in Prince Albert.

Joan Champ.

Joan’s love of stories led her to study western Canadian history at the University of Saskatchewan where she earned a master’s degree. Her knowledge of history opened the door to a career at the Western Development Museum, first in exhibit production and finally as the chief executive officer for all four WDMs. Joan retired from the WDM in 2016. She has written history columns for several community newspapers throughout the province. Joan and her husband Gordon Brewerton live in North Battleford.

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