The Story of John Gregory's Mill


When I was 6, my family moved from our modest, but comfortable, Winnipeg home to a farm near Baldur. A young person making that move today would of course notice quite a change in the lifestyle, but over the decades there had been a great levelling in terms of the relative comforts and hardships that separate rural and urban life. Our farm home in 1955 did not have plumbing. Water was fetched from a well, hand-pumped and carried in pails. The outdoor facilities, shall we call them, were a hundred metres from the back door, and, yes, at times an Eaton's catologue did rest on the seat.

But six is a good age for making such a move. It was a bit like a camping trip, an adventure, and I was young enough not to be bothered by the lack of amenities and old enough to be curious about some of the changes.

I remember being quite interested in the whole process behind the creation of butter. In fact it was quite a lesson, because my mom made butter, not with a traditional churn - which I was to learn about later, but with that modern convenience we'd brought from our urban home - a Mix-Master! The fact that a wood-burning stove was our new oven was also a lesson. Our electric stove sat unused because, although electricity had recently come to the farms (late 1940's),  the 220 volt service required for large appliances wasn't installed. And if learning where butter came from was memorable, learning where beef came from was a bit of a revelation. I must say we took it well when our favorite calf of one year became hamburger the next, and after watching the rather unpleasant early parts of the process, we quite cheerfully helped out with the packaging, using a grease pencil to mark the wrapped cuts with what we considered witty and brave notations such as "Dicky's Rump Roast".

It was an education. One lesson I found especially interesting was learning about flour. It happened when Dad announced that he was taking a load of wheat to Holmfield to get flour. He explained the process, and indeed it made quite a bit of sense. Why buy it at the store when you had the raw materials right here?

Of course all these experiences were with me when, many decades later, I began my explorations into Manitoba's history. I learned that the Flour Mill at Holmfield had a long history and is/was an important part of the region's heritage. I learned that flour mills were a logical necessary and important part of the settlement experience. And I learned about an earlier mill in the same region, the traces of which are almost gone, but which have their story to tell.

Try this.

Go to Google Earth and enter the coordinates 49' 31'12.70 N and 99'49'34.35W.

With a bit of zooming you should find a view similiar to this one.

What we are seeing is a stretch of the Souris River about 10 km south south west of Wawanesa. Fortunately its one of those sections that are portrayed at a fairly high resolution.

Even a  curious and observant person might not notice the pair of lines running north-south to the west of the river channel. A person who did notice them might at first suppose that they were some sort of trail, but they don't seem to be going anywhere, at least the one on the right doesn't seem to go anywhere.  And would there be two parallel trails?

I'm happy to report that they aren't landing strips for alien spaceships or even ancient aboriginal linear mounds. They're much more recent. In fact they date from about 1890 and they represent the hopes and dreams of one of the area pioneers.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves...
 


The Evolution of a River Valley

Theoretically you can stand on one end of the eighty-kilometer wide Souris Plains and see to the other. In reality, a few wooded areas, a few dusty towns, and the slight curvature of the earth get in your way.  If viewed from its boundaries however, say the upper reaches of the Brandon Hills to the north or the Turtle Mountains to the south, it is indeed quite an unbroken expanse.  Where you to look closely, you might notice, cutting through these plains, in most places hidden until you are almost upon it, the surprisingly deep and wide Souris River valley.

The story of this particular river valley begins about 6000 years ago as the land in the southern prairies was coming out of the most recent (not perhaps the last) ice age.  As the glacier receded, melting on its way, the waters gathered, waited, and then followed the ice. They gouged deep trenches into the gravel and shale as they fell northwards. In a particular stretch of southern Manitoba, one such stream led into the province near the southwest corner and proceeded northeast towards present day Souris. It then took a right angle turn and charged southeast, then east, before emptying into what was to become the Red River. Their combined waters then flowed northwards into the retreating sea.

As the ice disappeared, the thick shell of the earth, feeling the effect of a much-lightened load, began to rise.  That threatened to block the path of the water, but it responded by digging its trench-like pathway deeper. This went on for some time (a short time in geological terms, and eternity in human terms) and the trench widened and sank ever so slowly downwards into the earth’s outer crust. A gorge was created, with steep walls - here lined with gravel, there with sand as it cut through an old delta, and further on, with shale walls as it moved through an ancient sea bed. Its appearance was not unlike those gullies one sees after a flash flood, a slash through the ground, barren and bare.

Then, as now, a river tends to grow weary of its course and take every opportunity to strike a new one.  They erode the outer banks until a new path of least resistance opens and the water follows.  But in this case more powerful forces were at play. The speed of the earth’s rebounding crust finally overtook the stream’s effort to entrench itself and it found its path blocked, or rather, it found an alternate route.  It was “captured” by a northward bound tributary of the Assiniboine, and abandoned it’s ancient spillway at a point called the Souris Bend or the Souris Elbow of Capture, just north of present day Margaret.




The Souris Bend area.


It continued its trenching in that direction, and the earth’s crust kept rising until gradually both processes slowed down. The excess of melt water which had created these super rivers was finally all drained away, leaving great gullies with only a relative trickle, wandering almost hidden in their oversized containers, to remind them of their turbulent past.  And the river valleys entered the next stage of their development.

The steep, newly-etched valley walls began to crumble. In places where the material was softer in nature - sand or gravel - they quickly (in the geological sense) lost their jagged edges and became rounded and gentle in appearance. The valley walls through much of the path from the Manitoba border to Souris are gently sloped, with the river channel wandering from side to side, occasionally cutting a steep slice out of one side or the other. But as the channel turns southeast the earth’s outer layer appears to be made of sterner stuff and the river has been forced to cut more deeply into it as it descends towards the lower elevation of the Assiniboine Valley.  As the water makes it’s way downward at an increased rate, it rebounds from one side of the valley wall to the other and has cut sheer cliffs as it makes its turns.

The effects of the river’s action have produced their most dramatic results in the stretch after the river has made its abrupt change of course at what we now call the Souris Bend. From the bend on to Wawanesa, the river valley is at its most rugged. Steep cliffs overlook the river bends and quick drops in elevation produce rapids at regular intervals. There are places here that defy the stereotype of the “prairie landscape”.



Wild country, just upstream from the mill site.


In a time when the buffalo was the provider of all things to the inhabitants of this land of flat prairie and gently rolling hills, the sheer cliffs along the valley provided that most efficient of killing fields - the buffalo jump. That and the water and shelter attracted the first “settlement” of the area. For over a thousand years the river provided a central element of an enduring and, by comparative world standards of the time, highly successful lifestyle. Yet, according to the evidence of modern archeologists, this particular stretch of river was more hunting grounds than “permanent” or extended campsite. Even then the steep cliffs and deep valley may have been something of an inconvenience.  More extensive campsites are currently being excavated upstream where the wide sloping valley makes a riverside home more convenient.

And yet when the first European settlers began to arrive around 1880, they too were drawn to the riverside.  One of the first agricultural settlements in the area was Langvale along the east side of the river just downstream from the “Bend”.


Water and wood meant comfort and convenience, and the river valley held the only ready supply of both.  The prairie uplands were generally stripped of vegetation regularly by fire and trees only took hold near water.  These days living on a river bank can be quite an inconvenience. Bridges are expensive and none span the Souris between McKellar’s Bridge near Margaret and the bridge over Highway #2 at Wawanesa. If you live on one side, it’s quite a drive to visit your neighbor who lives just across the valley. The pioneers knew the shallow spots and, except in the high water months of April and May, could cross at will. You don’t want to try it with a pickup truck though, even with four-wheel drive! While the riverside locations provided water and wood, those that settled in the river valley soon found the flat uplands were easier to till and provided better crops.

With the arrival of the railways and the automobile, locations that once were on the beaten track suddenly were distinctly off of it.  The remains of the Gregory Mill, hidden in a tangle of riverside brush at the northern limit of the Souris Bend Wildlife Management Area tell the tale of that change brought by the new transportation realities.  It went from being a much sought-after service and a technological marvel, to being a worthless anachronism in just over a decade. Today a pile of rubble and a deep ditch remaining at the site are scarcely recognizable for what they were.



Establishing the Mill

The story of the mill begins in 1882 when John D. Gregory, from Wingham, Ontario, came to Manitoba and began scouting locations for a mill site. In 1883 he took title and settled on NW 34-6-18, a farm that straddled the Souris River about five miles upstream from were it now passes under Highway #2 near Wawanesa. The site he chose was, technically, an ideal site for a mill.  The river in the Souris Bend area makes a rather sharp descent (as local rivers go) onto the Assiniboine Plains allowing for a considerable current.  There were breaks in the valley walls on each side of the river, allowing for cart trails, and hopefully, a rail crossing. He built a mud dam to back the water up to ensure a steady flow, erected an impressive stome mill building, set up the necessary equipment and opened for business. At that time he was 40 km from the rail line but he hoped that it would come to him, or he saw the business as viable regardless. The first dam had a head of eight feet of water, and the mill building was said to have the “most improved machinery” and a capacity of 75 barrel per day.



In the mid eighties “very liberal local patronage” meant that the mill was operating day and night. This prompted expansion and improvements, noteably the addition of a steam engine in 1885.  At that time farmers were coming from a radius of 50 km.  [1]

Mr. Gregory, like other entrepreneurs who moved to southwestern Manitoba in those times, was banking on the steady and enduring economic growth of the area.  His idea was right.  His location turned out to be wrong.  The beautiful riverside setting was indeed aesthetically pleasing and convenient in an era when rivers provided transportation, water, wooded areas, and power for mills. The early settlers were from Ontario, and they had water-power on the brain. All early settlements. Souris (Plum Creek) Millford, Old Stockton, were, to an extent, judged on the availability of water power. But two things happened. First they soon realized that prairie rivers were somewhat season and unreliable as a source of water power, and second; steam power was quickly becoming a more reliable, and in the long run, less expensive, option.

And while Mr. Gregory adapted by adding steam power to his mill, his location was not destined to be a population centre.  The rail lines passed to the north at Wawanesa and to the south at Boissevain. Transportation quickly shifted from river and cart trail, to rail and graded roads, and eventually to the automobile.

Mr. Gregory was not alone in selecting a location that was ideal for one era, just as the world was quickly slipping into the next one. Hindsight makes re-thinking his decision just a bit too easy. The truth was that he had every right to expect that a rail line was coming soon and in the meantime there was a substantial local need for his services. In fact, the very lack of a railway meant that a new settlement needed a mill. Wheat was plentiful, imported goods were expensive. Locally ground flour kept families fed. A survey of pioneer reminiscences in local histories reveals that a trip to the Gregory Mill was a memorable event.  People came from as far away as the Boissevain district.  The trip would likely involve an overnight stay at one of the many “Stopping Houses” that provided the early equivalent of the roadside motel and restaurant.  Children would long remember the first time they got to accompany their father on such a trip.  [3]



A view from the hiking trail that leads to the mill site.



As far as railway location goes, his property was a good as any potential place to cross the Souris. The CPR was completed from Winnipeg to Brandon in 1881, and already there were all kinds of rumours, and quite a few proposals, for branch lines.  Conventional wisdom dictated that at least one more east west line between Brandon and the US border and Mr. Gregory was somewhere in the middle of that expanse. Rather than wait for a line it was better to build and establish a viable operation in the hopes of attracting a rail line.  Throughout the province upstart villages with names like Rapid City, Mountain City and Crystal City were based on just such hopes.

Newspapers of the mid 1880’s offer us more glimpses of Mr. Gregory and his mill and help to illustrate their respective places in the local community and its economy.

By 1882 he was apparently established in Winnipeg and seems to have been exploring his options. The first mention of him appears in the Winnipeg Daily times of September 20, 1882, which reports that he had already bought and sold (at a tidy profit) one farm in the area. The Winnipeg Daily Sun reports that Mr. Gregory along with two others had “returned to the city, after a visit to the famous Rock Lake district in Southern Manitoba. They speak in the highest terms of this section as an agricultural district.”  One can infer that he was scouting for a suitable location.  Another story in November of 1882 has him reporting on crops in the vicinity of the Elliott Settlement near where he was to build his mill.  The Times reports refers to him as “an old and experienced miller” and indicated that he is “personally acquainted with a number of settlers” in the district.


Mr. Gregory also appears in one of those interesting features of early papers: the hotel guest list!  Reports in 1883 indicate that he was staying at the Brunswick for a time in June and at the Grand Union in September. No doubt getting a mill set up and running necessitated some “business travel”. [4]



A Local Institution

The first mention I found regarding the mill itself was incidental and gave no details as to its location,  mentioning only that a missing horse had been “traced as far as Gregory’s mill, Souris, where it was probably ground up into sausage meat.” Was that some sort of inside joke? A short notice in paper the following month offers a bit more information, and includes his operation as part of the community of Whitehead, a fledgling village centred around a country store and post office a few kilometres west of the mill site. Charles Kent was the storekeeper who located “on the track leading south to the grist mill erected by John Gregory on the Souris River...” [5]



Winnipeg Daily Times, 16/04/83

This reporter didn't get the names correct, but construction started that summer and the  mill was built "up the river'".


An 1884 submission from that community was prophetic and reflected the hope of numerous small settlements in the era before rail lines were plotted out:

“This infant city has not shuffled off this mortal coil, but promises to be a fine place if only the railroad would come anywhere near. Mr. Gregory is in Ontario; expected shortly.”

A related article goes on to outline plans for a “picnic and celebration” at the “mill at Whitehead.” on June 28 featuring “games and amusements of all kinds” and goes on at length to extol the virtues of the area, the wonderful river valley views. few days. Another article informs us that, ” The Souris City people propose celebrating the 28th June instead of the First of July. They will go to the mill at Whitehead, and enjoy themselves in true picnic style.” [6]

The location, given as 34/6/18, is the mill’s location, not that of the actual “town”,  so it seems that the recreation potential the mills attractive riverside location was already identified. For a short time the “infant city” of Whitehead was the social centre of the region! [7]

A report from nearby Langvale in 1885 noted that the “flouring mill of Mr.Gregory” had been shut down due to low water, but that a “powerful engine” was being installed and that the mill would be running again in a “few days”.  In June of that same year we note that Riverside Municipality had remitted Gregory’s taxes. This is something municipalities did as a way of supporting needed services.
 

1886 brought more expansion as a letter to the editor reported that ”the flouring mill at Whitehead is running full blast night and day” and that the “energetic proprietor” had just completed an addition to the facility. He goes on to say, ”All we want is this part of the country is better railway facilities.” 

Also in 1886, rumours persisted that a rail line might cross the valley near the mill as Mr. Nichol of nearby Souris City reported that the railway engineer was coming back to ” try Gregory’s Mill crossing”.

On a more personal note, we learn that in 1886 Mr. Gregory was a vestryman of the Rounthwaite Anglican church.  [8]

The mill is mentioned often in the accounts of the Souris City settlement a few miles downstream, and in reminiscences of pioneers of the Wawanesa and Riverdale areas. Blanche Miller, writing in the “Riverdale Heritage” recalls that her father Billie Miller worked in the mill from 1884 to 1888 with Richard Skuce and George Durnin. Gregory’s two sons were also employed, making it a fairly large operation. [9]

The Riverside History also reports that the mill offered the latest in technology and that:

“Customers had come to Gregory's Mill from all directions, some as far south as the U.S. border. The flour, of superior quality, milled by the "Hungarian Patent Process," was drawn to Brandon by mule team and horse teams, made three trips a week to the flour in a warehouse until a carload was gathered, to ship east by rail. On the return trip, they brought back provisions needed at the mill.”  [10]

Reports in local histories, based as they are on reminiscence, are often somewhat contradictory in relating the story of the mill. One common element however was the reference to its short life span. Most report that it existed during the 1880’s and that it closed after the dam was twice destroyed by spring runoff. The general consensus was that it was no longer operating by 1890. [11]

In this case the local legends don’t match the facts. Far from being discouraged by minor setbacks, delays in railway access, and problems with the dam, Mr. Gregory instead of retreating, pushed forward.




A rare map from the era showing the Gregory Mill location.

From Warren Upham's 1890 map of the Lake Agassiz: Scanned from The Historical Atlas of Manitoba




Expansion & Competition

In about 1888 he began a considerable expansion. A higher dam was constructed about a kilometer upstream. The first attempt was cut short when high water “carried away a piece of the west bank" but the work was completed and certainly must have been the foremost feat of engineering in rural Westman at the time. A report in the Brandon Sun described it thus:

“The dam, is 600 feet long, 160 feet wide at its base and 29 feet at the top, is 30 feet high from the bed of the river, and is composed entirely of trees, brush, boulders gravel and earth, intermixed, forming an impenetrable mass, capable of resisting almost any pressure. Behind the dam there is now a body of water with a head of 28 feet, covering 5000 acres, and extending for 6 miles to the south. The race is 4000 feet long and from 6 to 18 feet; much of the material taken from this was used on the dam.”  [12]

There was a moderately sharp bend across which he could construct a “mill race” or channel to direct the flow to the mill. That mill race is still visible today and must be seen to be appreciated.  Time has erased almost all other traces of the operation, and a river traveler will pass the site by unless he knows what he is looking for. One has to marvel at the engineering, and just sheer work, that must have been required to build it the mill race.  What equipment would they have to move that amount of earth?  Where would they get such equipment - before the municipalities had even begun to plan the grid of gravel roads that were to appear with the advent of the automobile?  Some stretches are gouged out of the hillside, while in other places the sides are built up like dikes. The whole enterprise must have involved a substantial effort - in time and money.



120 years after it was abandonned - the mill race is quite visible today, from the hiking trail to the mill, and from Google Earth!


The cost was 15000 dollars, an amazing amount of money for a local enterprise, but Mr. Gregory projected that he now had enough water backed up to allow for 3 month of operation during times of low water flow, and could boost his capacity to 125 barrel per day in the winter.  [13]
  
All this expansion despite bad news on the railway front!



The End of an Era


By 1889 we had, not one, but two railways about to cross the district.  One was angling up from Morris to Brandon, and destined to cross the Souris River at Wawanesa while the existing line from Winnipeg to Glenboro was finally to be extended to Souris. A newspaper report noted that Gregory Mill and a mill at Souris City served the local area but that, “before another crop is marketed things will be changed” and that the new Northwest Pacific and Manitoba Railway line the Municipality would have “unsurpassed railway facilities.  [14]



The region had two rail lines by 1891. The siding at Elliott's was the closest railway link for Mr. Gregory's flour, about eight kilometres away.

The railway came as close as eight kilometers and Mr. Gregory was soon exporting flour. The Brandon Sun reports that in June of 1890 he shipped 2 cars of flour from Elliott Siding. [15]

Perhaps Mr. Gregory, who instead of retrenching, had expanded his operations, was going to remain viable. The mill was obviously thriving in 1891 when we see a report from Belmont where they were “agitating for a good grist mill” noting that “almost every day”  teams passed through on their way to Gregory’s which was 40 kilometres away.  [16] Despite the fact that a closer rail line would have provided better access to export markets, the mill was providing a valuable service to locals who continued to patronize it.

In 1892 a notice by the Oakland council appeared in the Sun advising that there would be a vote on a bylaw to “grant a bonus of $1000 to John Gregory’s mill”.  Having a nearby mill was so important that incentives were often provided by towns or municipalities. [17]

The article notes that:

“Mr. Gregory intends increasing capacity to…250 barrel during the next year if he succeeds in getting better shipping facilities. At present he is five miles from the nearest railway station, but he is confident that he will be able to overcome that difficulty before long.” [18]

He still hadn’t given up! Perhaps a spur line wasn’t out of the question?

Well that “difficulty” never was overcome. The site of the Gregory Mill, today, as it was then, is still eight kilometres from a rail line.

As it turned out it likely wasn’t the lack of access to the export market that sealed the fate of Gregory’s Mill.  It was the establishment of mills in the new population centres that sprang up along the new railways that spelled the end.

For example, until Glenboro got its mill in 1994, (also with $3000 bonus), many from that area had patronized Gregory’s Mill. [19]  At Holmfield to the south, a mill was serving the Killarney and Boissevain  district. Wawnesa was exploring the idea of offering a bonus get one started in that new village.

I could find no notice in the media of the day regarding the closing of the mill. Reference to it just ceased to appear, in much the same way that references to the abandoned towns of the settlement era just disappeared. Instead, what we learn from the newspapers is that mills were springing up elsewhere. And so was Mr. Gregory.

By 1895 he was applying for a bonus offered by the municipality of Oakland for the erection of a new mill at Nesbitt, some twelve kilometres northwest of his old location.



The mill was towards the bottom right corner of the picture and 10 metres up the bank. I believe that the first dam was here – likely designed  to direct the flow to the right bank.


Taken from  the hill north of the mill (see picture on the left).
Photo from the S.J. McKee Archives, Brandon University.


A letter appearing in the Daily Nor’Wester submitted by George Fawkes of Nesbitt, dated May 21, 1895 reports that Nesbitt and district voted on a bylaw that granted a bonus of $3000 towards the erection of a mill, that John Gregory had applied for said bonus, and that Mr. Gregory, in response to a question from a councilor said he could be up and running within ten days of gaining access to the site. No mention is made of Mr. Gregory’s previous mill but it seems likely is that this more about moving his operations than starting anew?

Council was also considering a similar deal for a mill at Wawanesa but some (those from Nesbitt)  argued that two mills in the municipality were not needed.  A few weeks later the Nor’Wester reported that as of May 29 the first machinery was “brought into town today” The article confirms the earlier report that John Gregory was the miller in charge and went on to say that the mill would be operation for this year’s harvest and that he assured the reporter that the “mill will be first class in every particular.”  [20]


In a somewhat contradictory report we see that the Oakland Council meeting report from June 13, 1895 indicates the Mr. Gregory attended and that his application was accepted. At the same meeting the council decided to approve his application. [21]  It could be just bad reporting or it could be that then. as now, sometimes things proceed ahead of “official” authorization.

Later that summer he was hospitalized for a problem with his foot, which eventually led to amputation, but with a favourable prognosis. [22] On June 21 of the following year he died. [23]

When John Gregory bought his riverside property and started his operation he must have been a wealthy man.  He is said to have died broke, having lost a hundred thousand dollars.  [24]



Little is left of the walls.



A sign informs today's visitors.


The building was abandoned and slowly disintegrated.   Rainwater leaked in, destroying the roof and weakening the mortar in the stone walls and vandals broke the windows and eventually pushed in the walls.  The sight now now difficult to find.  Trees have surrounded what is left of the foundation making it virtually invisible to a passer-by on the river.  One might notice the rocks, originally from the walls, that have tumbled down the steep bank as far as the water’s edge.  Thanks to the efforts of Arthur Bund of the Nesbitt area, the large stone that once served as a doorstep for the mill now rests in the Minnewawa Cemetery near the junction of Highways Two and Ten.  A huge gear from the mill itself is in on display at the Sipiweski Museum in Wawanesa, and a few other scattered remnants of the machinery have found their way into private collections.  Who knows what else might lie buried under an unassuming pile of  rubble on a secluded river bank.


 

Bibliography

1. Brandon Sun Weekly 10/12/91
2. Riverside Centennial Committee, Riverside Heritage, 1996, 253
3. Riverside Heritage, story by Margaret Bissett P29
4. Material from newspapers:

Winnipeg Daily Times 20/09/82, 08/11/82, 21/09/83
 The Winnipeg Daily Sun 30/09/82, 21/06/83

5. Stuart, J.A.D., The Prairie W.A.S.P (A History of the Rural Municipality of Oakland Manitoba)  Prairie Publishing Company, Winnipeg, Mb  87
6. Brandon Sun Weekly 12/06/84
7. Riverside Heritage, 1996, 253
8 Brandon Sun Weekly 05/02/85, 01/04/86, 19/08/86, 08/04/86)
9. Riverside Heritage, 1996, 59
10. Riverside Heritage, 1996, 253
11. Riverside Heritage, 1996, 52
12. Brandon Sun Weekly, 10/12/91
13. Brandon Sun Weekly, 10/12/91
14. Brandon Sun Weekly, 13/06/89
15. Brandon Sun Weekly, 12/06/90
16. Brandon Sun Weekly, 05/03/91
17. John Everitt, John & Kempthorne, Roberta, The Flour Milling Industry in Manitoba Since 1870, Manitoba History, Number 26, Autumn 1993
… “bonuses” were offered by towns, villages, and municipalities in order to attract millers to, or keep them in, their communities. The bonuses were designed to increase the overall supply of mills, but they may have also affected the distribution, by attracting a miller to one settlement, and thus crushing the hopes of a competing neighbour.  ….  Between 1882 and 1890 at least two dozen bonus offers were made in Manitoba. In 1890 there were 22 small mills across the province, nine of which may have resulted from the bonusing system

18. Brandon Sun Weekly, 09/06/92
19. Glenboro and Area Historical Society,  Beneath the Long Grass, 1979,  123
20 Daily Nor’Wester 23/05/95  &  31/05/95
21. Brandon Sun Weekly, 13/06/95
22. Brandon Sun Weekly, 22/08/95 & 06/09/95
23. Vital Statistics Manitoba, http://vitalstats.gov.mb.ca/Query.php
24. Riverside Heritage, 52