FROM AN EMAIL

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MY CHURCHILL MEMORIES

My Churchill memories go back to 1953, when I first moved up there with my mother and father, Lloyd and Edna Marshall. My father was working as the manager of the whaling plant on the “Flats” at the time and I was three years old. My two older brothers remained in Ocher River, MB, until the school year was out so all of my friends at that time were either Inuit or Cree.

I was privilege to be well liked by the people who lived there on the Flats and was given a small harpoon head and a decorated fringed jacket. Later I inherited a beautiful snow knife that my father was given by Pierre Toooo.

I can still recall, or maybe it is just from being told, playing with my friends and learning several dialects of Inuit during the next two years. Many people from Churchill likely knew the people I was growing up with at that time like the Toooo’s and the Hicks brothers. Many of the pictures of that time are on the CD that was sold on the Churchill group site.

About the time I was ready for kindergarten we moved to the Fort which was still an army base. My most vivid memories, besides all of the great friends I made there, include the sighting of the Russian sub in the Bay, hiding under my desk when the siren went off, and being lucky enough to live across from the theater, restaurant, library and eventually the teen club. I recall, too, when Hearn Hall had not yet been made into a school and served as a craft shop where we went to do photography, leather work and make rings. In 1962 I remember hearing of President Kennedy’s death on the radio there and going home with a heavy heart.

Of course these are just a few memories and I could easily write a trilogy if I made my remarks more detailed and included the entire sixteen years I spent north of the 59th parallel. Some of the famous people I did met there were Anthony Quinn, The Guess Who (at the Teen Club before the show they gave at the theater), Ann Murray, (who shocked the heck out of me before going on stage by clapping her hands together in front of me with a big smile on her face), and a dim memory of Farley Mowat (when he was interviewing my dad for a book he was writing). There are now, as I am sure you know, our own home grown “famous” people like Brian Ladoon and Shelia Watts as well as others.

Please forgive any spelling errors of anyone’s name!

Contributed by Roman (Curtis) Marshall, Winnipeg, Manitoba
(I formerly went by the name of Curtis Marshall.
I changed my first name after my mother
passed as she told me she had
always wanted me to have that name.)

Churchill Memories: Continued 

I will try to fill in a few gaps from my last entry to this site to supply a more rounder picture to my Churchill friends, acquaintances as well as those who arrived there later.

My brief stay with my parents and then my older brothers, Floyd and Brent, on the Flats held their share of adventure, excitement and some trauma as well.

I recall how the fathers of my Inuit friends would cut off a thin strip from the dorsal fin of the whales, chop in into small pieces and give it to all the children as nature’s gum. It was very salty and chewed like regular gum, minus the bubbles of course, and lasted all day with its flavor intact. Few of my friends who lived in town or Fort Churchill could say they had shared that experience.

I also had the opportunity to go out on a few whaling trips when my father went along to make sure I wasn’t knocked overboard. It was truly exciting and even though I was young I swear the memories are there from the experience. I recall the two men in the front of the whaling boat who harpooned the whales, the ones who tossed in the empty oil barrels to keep them afloat and the sharp shooters that used their rifles to make sure none got away.

The huskies who roamed the whaling plant were not a danger, like the large packs that were kept in town. Still there were some dangers living on the Flats. I remember falling into a pile of hot ash that had been left out to cool after being used in the whaling plant to render the cut up blubber down to oil. One day I was playing tag and, being tagged to be “it,” I fell headlong into the hot ash. My father had to rush me to the Fort for medical treatment for my arms and I had to wear a cast on both arms for several months, as well as exercise my hands and arms with a rubber ball when they were nearly healed. I also had a few other accidents there, but that was by far the one I remember the most.

My first days of school in Fort Churchill were in kindergarten and every time lunch came around I would sneak out and spend half the day trying to find my way through the mazes of hallways in G-block back to my parents' apartment. Soon my older brothers were given the unpleasant task of breaking me of that habit.

Hockey had to be the biggest attraction in Fort Churchill with the large arena, although I do remember falling through a pond near the airport at the Fort and having to crawl, clutching the grass still in the ice at the bottom and breaking up to the surface on the edge of the pond. My friends helped me walk back to G-block and my clothes were frozen solid, but my greatest concern was what my parents were going to say when they finally say me.

I played junior hockey and I remember how many times I found myself in the penalty box because some of the other players knew how I reacted to a cheap shot, or being hit by a stick when the referee was looking the other way. I loved to play or go to the games, although I couldn’t come close to having the hockey skills of my brother Brent. He was great at baseball and basketball, too.

The real heroes of the ice for me, though, were George Hicks and Barney Toooo, his half brother. Many the free skating night we had I would do my best to keep up with him as he flew around the sides of the boards working on his speed and keeping his legs in shape. Of course I was but a distant shadow behind him but it was still an execrating experience.

In my teen years another exciting memory comes from the rocket research range. Chris Brandy was my friend and his father was running the range at the time. On several occasions we were invited up there to watch the Black Bart rockets being sent up to test the Artic Lights. On one occasion I remember they let Chris turn on the ignition key and let me push the release button. I believe Chris had had the opportunity before so it was not as a big deal for him. Chris passed away several years ago before the last reunion and he is missed.

I guess I could go on about all of my encounters with polar bears and the serious little scares I had in my teens, but everyone has a story or two to tell on that subject. Now the Fort is gone and from what I have seen of Churchill I might get lost with all of the changes. I am proud of my friends who remained to carve out a business there and can tell new comers of what life was like forty or fifty years ago.

Roman (Curtis) Marshall, Winnipeg, Manitoba

Wendy gave Lois a hair cut.	Watch that coffee, dad.
Yeah, it's me!	Floyd, Brent, and me, along with some men at the Flats.
Me and a family friend.	Mom and the boys.
Edna and Lloyd Marshall at the Churchill Legion.	Dad with boxing gloves, joking about my burn.
Marshall family picture, 1968.	Brent, friends, and me.
Boy Scouts at the Fort.	Friends playing.
Playing with the Husky pups.	Legion parade.
More pictures coming soon!