Lonesome Butte
Edna Fern wrote that the family spent time inside their grandparents’ house during the winter months at Lonesome Butte and enjoyed meals together in the kitchen. It would have been warm there with a wood stove fed with lignite day and night, but Lela remembered it was “darn cold” in the rest of the house. “The windows were covered with frosted ice and you couldn’t see out of them for weeks at a time.”
There were also other hardships, the main one being a shortage of water. Edna Fern wrote, “It was strange to watch Grandma use the whey from the cheese she made to wash the dishes in.” Every time water was needed, it had to be hauled in wooden barrels in a horse-drawn wagon from where Rock Creek and Hell Fire Creek joined a few miles downhill from the home.
Bugs and flies always got into the barrels, and they never had a fresh drink of water except when they went down to the creeks, so the children would sometimes ride along in the wagon with an uncle or their grandpa to fill up the water barrels. Edna remembered one such occasion when four-year-old brother Bob fell into Rock Creek. The water wasn’t deep, wide, or swift, but the danger seemed real even so, and Ruth rescued him. Ruth was confident in her rescue of Bob, having had the experience of pulling Edna Fern out of the fast-flowing Missouri the summer before.
Besides Uncle Percy, Uncle Burton was still living at home. He was the youngest in Alexander and Elizabeth’s family and was only thirteen when Pluma and her children began to live with them. He was only four years older than Ruth who was the oldest child of their grandparents’ oldest son, Joseph. Burton liked to tease his nieces: “the most distressing time for Ruth was when he paid Willie Sillyshanko a nickel to kiss her at school. That time he had gone too far and even felt guilty about it so he laid off.” Also, Burton had more interesting things to think about and became like an older brother to Pluma’s children.
Burton was a tall, strapping young man who had made a name for himself riding broncos at the Wood Mountain rodeo. He was only twelve when he first competed and was already driving the team of horses for a threshing crew. Burton had no trouble attracting girls at local dances, where he would “kick up a storm,” and could have courted any girl he wanted.
There were also other hardships, the main one being a shortage of water. Edna Fern wrote, “It was strange to watch Grandma use the whey from the cheese she made to wash the dishes in.” Every time water was needed, it had to be hauled in wooden barrels in a horse-drawn wagon from where Rock Creek and Hell Fire Creek joined a few miles downhill from the home.
Bugs and flies always got into the barrels, and they never had a fresh drink of water except when they went down to the creeks, so the children would sometimes ride along in the wagon with an uncle or their grandpa to fill up the water barrels. Edna remembered one such occasion when four-year-old brother Bob fell into Rock Creek. The water wasn’t deep, wide, or swift, but the danger seemed real even so, and Ruth rescued him. Ruth was confident in her rescue of Bob, having had the experience of pulling Edna Fern out of the fast-flowing Missouri the summer before.
Besides Uncle Percy, Uncle Burton was still living at home. He was the youngest in Alexander and Elizabeth’s family and was only thirteen when Pluma and her children began to live with them. He was only four years older than Ruth who was the oldest child of their grandparents’ oldest son, Joseph. Burton liked to tease his nieces: “the most distressing time for Ruth was when he paid Willie Sillyshanko a nickel to kiss her at school. That time he had gone too far and even felt guilty about it so he laid off.” Also, Burton had more interesting things to think about and became like an older brother to Pluma’s children.
Burton was a tall, strapping young man who had made a name for himself riding broncos at the Wood Mountain rodeo. He was only twelve when he first competed and was already driving the team of horses for a threshing crew. Burton had no trouble attracting girls at local dances, where he would “kick up a storm,” and could have courted any girl he wanted.
A typical one-room schoolhouse on the Canadian prairies, early 20th century.
Living on a prairie farm with no nearby neighbors was a new way of life for Pluma’s children. Their last home with their papa had been in the small town of Williston, North Dakota, where schools were open nine months of the year regardless of the weather. In this southern Saskatchewan homestead country, schools closed during the cold winter months because the weather was unpredictable and it was too dangerous for children to be riding horseback on their own in that season.
“Finally, when spring came,” Edna wrote, “Grandpa put Ruth and me on horses to ride four and a half miles to the closest school, South View, in the Killdeer vicinity, where Papa and our uncles had gone to school. I had never been on a horse before, so Grandpa lifted me up onto the back of a husky grey mare; my short legs barely reached across its broad back and anyway I didn’t know how to use my feet and the reins to tell her to move ahead so Grandpa got impatient and kicked her in the stomach. This so startled the mare that she jumped ahead and I went flying through the air.
“Mother was watching and decided then and there that I should stay home until I had a chance to learn to ride. I didn’t go back to school until a year later after the grey mare and I had spent time together and had a chance to become friends. When I did ride off with Ruth and Lyman the next spring, the four and a half mile ride went quickly with other kids joining us along the way.”
The only other child Edna Fern vividly remembers meeting during the years Pluma’s family lived on the old Haverfield homestead was her future husband, Laurence Ernest Anderson: “The first summer after we moved to Canada, just before I turned seven in late July, a tall, slim man stopped in our grandparents’ yard and I heard him through the open window asking Grandpa if we had seen some horses that had strayed from his ranch up north. Curious, I shyly came out of the house and sat on the steps watching and listening.
“The man was wearing an old Stetson, a leather vest, and cowboy boots, and he was standing close to a large black horse holding the reins with gloves on his hands. Sitting on the horse was a boy about my size with curly blonde hair and curious blue eyes. We were both too shy to say anything but later Grandma told me that the boy’s name was Ernest, and though his last name was Anderson like Mother’s people, these Andersons weren’t related to us.”
“Finally, when spring came,” Edna wrote, “Grandpa put Ruth and me on horses to ride four and a half miles to the closest school, South View, in the Killdeer vicinity, where Papa and our uncles had gone to school. I had never been on a horse before, so Grandpa lifted me up onto the back of a husky grey mare; my short legs barely reached across its broad back and anyway I didn’t know how to use my feet and the reins to tell her to move ahead so Grandpa got impatient and kicked her in the stomach. This so startled the mare that she jumped ahead and I went flying through the air.
“Mother was watching and decided then and there that I should stay home until I had a chance to learn to ride. I didn’t go back to school until a year later after the grey mare and I had spent time together and had a chance to become friends. When I did ride off with Ruth and Lyman the next spring, the four and a half mile ride went quickly with other kids joining us along the way.”
The only other child Edna Fern vividly remembers meeting during the years Pluma’s family lived on the old Haverfield homestead was her future husband, Laurence Ernest Anderson: “The first summer after we moved to Canada, just before I turned seven in late July, a tall, slim man stopped in our grandparents’ yard and I heard him through the open window asking Grandpa if we had seen some horses that had strayed from his ranch up north. Curious, I shyly came out of the house and sat on the steps watching and listening.
“The man was wearing an old Stetson, a leather vest, and cowboy boots, and he was standing close to a large black horse holding the reins with gloves on his hands. Sitting on the horse was a boy about my size with curly blonde hair and curious blue eyes. We were both too shy to say anything but later Grandma told me that the boy’s name was Ernest, and though his last name was Anderson like Mother’s people, these Andersons weren’t related to us.”
Edna Fern remembers that she and Ruth and Lyman and Bob got more gifts than usual at Christmas that year because their mother still had some of Joseph Arthur’s insurance money and she sent away for fabric to make gifts for the children:
“She shut herself into a room where she could make her creations without nosey children bothering her, but typical of my curious nature I looked through the keyhole and saw that she was sewing a rag doll for me—that couldn’t have delighted me more! Since I loved my mother with all my heart, anything she made would have been a delight to me, but I loved dolls so I was especially happy and eager for Christmas morning.”
“She shut herself into a room where she could make her creations without nosey children bothering her, but typical of my curious nature I looked through the keyhole and saw that she was sewing a rag doll for me—that couldn’t have delighted me more! Since I loved my mother with all my heart, anything she made would have been a delight to me, but I loved dolls so I was especially happy and eager for Christmas morning.”
“On Christmas morning we all found pieces of hard candies in our stockings along with an orange and the handmade gifts mother had made for us. I remember that Lyman was the only one who managed to have candies left by New Year’s Day, but my rag doll lasted much longer; she kept me company in my make-believe play for many years to come.”
Byron Haverfield with wife Coral and son, Springfield, Oregon, circa 1930.
Another of Joseph’s brothers, Uncle Byron, was batching in a shack not too far away on his own homestead, down the road where Hell Fire Creek met up with Rock Creek. Byron lived in a small two-room shack and hired Pluma to cook for him and keep his rooms tidy. Edna Fern wrote, “Uncle Byron was a gentle, kind man and it’s likely that he hoped he might find a wife from this arrangement, but it was Percy who mother became enamored with and maybe it was because of this that the next year Byron gave up on farming and headed west to Springfield, Oregon, to seek his fortune.”
In Springfield, Byron worked as a mechanic and met his wife, Coral. Lela said, “Despite having weakened sight in one eye from being hit by a stone-covered snowball, Uncle Barney was able to do his work.” When Byron left for Oregon, no one could have known that his success as a mechanic would help to keep Percy and Pluma’s family afloat ten years later when drought forced them to leave their southern Saskatchewan homestead.
Not long after Byron left, Percy and Pluma slipped away on horseback to Glasgow, Montana, about 80 miles south, to “get hitched.” Edna Fern remembers them returning in a buggy with a new broom sticking up among other household effects. They had become man and wife, and Pluma now called herself Pluma Estelle Haverfield; unlike most brides of the time, she had changed her first and middle names but not her last name.
“As young adults,” Edna Fern recalled, “we learned from Uncle Percy, who became our stepdad, that he had always taken a shining to our mother, even when she was his sister-in-law and even though he was six years younger than she was. Papa had been demanding of our mother but Percy treated her like a queen—they were genuine partners in their marriage.” Lela recalled that her mother referred to her older siblings’ papa as “Uncle Arthur” to her but seldom talked about him. She doesn’t remember her dad, Percy, talking about Joseph Arthur or any of his older brothers who had left home when he was young.
“Percy loved his nieces and nephews and accepted us as his own children,” wrote Edna Fern. “At first we called our new Dad ‘Stepper’ for stepfather, but over time we started to call him Dad.”
In Springfield, Byron worked as a mechanic and met his wife, Coral. Lela said, “Despite having weakened sight in one eye from being hit by a stone-covered snowball, Uncle Barney was able to do his work.” When Byron left for Oregon, no one could have known that his success as a mechanic would help to keep Percy and Pluma’s family afloat ten years later when drought forced them to leave their southern Saskatchewan homestead.
Not long after Byron left, Percy and Pluma slipped away on horseback to Glasgow, Montana, about 80 miles south, to “get hitched.” Edna Fern remembers them returning in a buggy with a new broom sticking up among other household effects. They had become man and wife, and Pluma now called herself Pluma Estelle Haverfield; unlike most brides of the time, she had changed her first and middle names but not her last name.
“As young adults,” Edna Fern recalled, “we learned from Uncle Percy, who became our stepdad, that he had always taken a shining to our mother, even when she was his sister-in-law and even though he was six years younger than she was. Papa had been demanding of our mother but Percy treated her like a queen—they were genuine partners in their marriage.” Lela recalled that her mother referred to her older siblings’ papa as “Uncle Arthur” to her but seldom talked about him. She doesn’t remember her dad, Percy, talking about Joseph Arthur or any of his older brothers who had left home when he was young.
“Percy loved his nieces and nephews and accepted us as his own children,” wrote Edna Fern. “At first we called our new Dad ‘Stepper’ for stepfather, but over time we started to call him Dad.”
Pluma and Percy Haverfield around the time of their marriage in 1922.
Marcie Goodrich (Whalley) found this marriage certificate while doing some genealogy research in Utah during the summer of 2015.
Percy and Pluma state that their home address is Roanwood, Montana (near Opheim). Wallace Taylor notes that while the Alexander Haverfields farmed in the Lonesome Butte area of southern Saskatchewan, they continued to receive their mail in Roanwood, as it was the post office that was nearest to their homestead and, in any case, most of their correspondence was with their relatives in the United States.
Percy and Pluma state that their home address is Roanwood, Montana (near Opheim). Wallace Taylor notes that while the Alexander Haverfields farmed in the Lonesome Butte area of southern Saskatchewan, they continued to receive their mail in Roanwood, as it was the post office that was nearest to their homestead and, in any case, most of their correspondence was with their relatives in the United States.
Caption.