Some of the best kept secrets are often hidden under our very noses. I didn’t start listening to this wonderful radio station until the late 1990s. Why not earlier? I couldn’t say. I’m just glad that I finally started to listen. CKUA is one of the most unusual and renowned radio stations in the world. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.liveradioplayer.com/ckua-radio-network/)
Like many of you I love music. I used to play it but now I just enjoy listening to a whole range of musical genres – Country, Rock, Jazz, Blues, Folk, and just about everything in between. But, where on earth does one find such a range of music without spending a small fortune buying it?
The answer – tune into the CKUA Radio Network, right here in Alberta, Canada. This is truly a Canadian story. I’m certain many of you from Alberta have already heard about this great radio station. As a matter of fact CKUA is so renowned in Alberta, we even dedicated a display to it in our new Royal Alberta Museum here in Edmonton.
However, there are many people out there who have not heard about this powerful little radio station. So, I’m going to act as the messenger through this website to give Canada’s first public broadcaster (yes, you read right, ‘first public broadcaster’) a plug.
This post will be short and sweet. For more information about CKUA, and how you can tune in, wherever you are in the world, go to their website: https://ckua.com/. Once there you will find more information about the station, its history, hosts, upcoming events, and record library (one of the best in Canada, if not the world).
Here are a few highlights about this amazing radio station to get you started.
CKUA was the first public broadcaster in Canada, starting at the University of Alberta with a lecture series, in 1927.
Before the internet got going you could only tune into the station in certain places in Alberta (and nowhere else in Canada). Eventually the network built fourteen transmitters around the province so that all Albertans could enjoy their broadcasts. And now you can live-stream their broadcasts from anywhere in the world.
CKUA is donor-supported relying primarily on money acquired by fund-raising twice a year and from their regular subscribers. Their fundraiser this fall raised over one million dollars in about ten days.
CKUA’s music library one of the largest and most diverse in Canada. It contains more than 250,000 CDs and LPs. The collection represents 140 years of recorded music.
CKUA has over thirty-five hosts who, as the CKUA website claims, ‘plan and curate their playlists to their tastes, unencumbered by genre, decade or ‘hit’ lists.’ Each host usually comes from some sort of musical background. And folks, they know their stuff. I’ve learned more about music and the history of music by listening to CKUA than from anywhere else. And, you will hear music on this station that you will rarely, if ever, hear anywhere else. Many of CKUA’s hosts are on a first name basis with some familiar names in each music genre. And the personal interviews of musical celebrities by hosts such as Holger Petersen (a host for over 50 years of his Natch’l Blues show) and Terry David Mulligan (Mulligan’s Stew Show), are off the charts.
CKUA promotes local Alberta and Canadian talent. They give new Canadian artists a chance to be heard and hone their skills. The list of musicians they promoted is extensive: Jan Arden, K.D. Lang, Robert Goulet, Tommy Banks, Corb Lund, to name a few. (I seem to recall that Robert Goulet grew up in Edmonton and was once a host on the station).
CKUA’s extensive music library. I remember on some of the early fundraisers, volunteers used to run down to the library and pull out requests from donators who called in. A bit of a daunting task, given the size of the collections, and the building. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.flickr.com/photos/mastermaq/16698895761/in/photostream/)
CKUA is ‘Community’ Oriented
Perhaps one of the things that struck me most about the station is the involvement of the community in CKUA, and the involvement of CKUA in the community. That relationship has grown stronger since 1997 when the station shut down but was revived by a new board. Along with their 35 or more hosts, they have over 40 support staff and 500 volunteers. And to date about 12,000 donors, who provide 60 per cent of the radio station’s funding.
And the station supports some pretty awesome music events in Alberta. They often broadcast live at many of the folk festivals in Alberta – the Calgary and Edmonton Folk Festivals, for example, and many more. And bring in renowned musical acts from all over the world. If the JUNO awards are being hosted by an Alberta City, you can be sure CKUA will be there to do some live interviews.
I’ll end with a few personal notes about the radio station. In 1992, I was interviewed by CKUA regarding my work at the HBC Fort Edmonton archaeological site. They support community events. Somewhere in those CKUA library vaults there’s probably a tape of that interview.
In July, 2021 I turned seventy. My wife asked Terry David Mulligan to wish me a happy birthday on his show. Terry had already pre-recorded his show, but despite that he went out of his way to get another host to wish me a happy birthday. Terry didn’t have to do that, but that’s what he’s all about.
So, for those of you out there who love music and haven’t given this radio station a try, tune in and find out what it’s all about. I’m sure you’ll find something on their eclectic playlist and programs you like. And I guarantee there will be some surprises. I’ve been listening for over twenty years and am still entertained and learning. I hope you will be too.
Jack, Worthington Hagerman, also known as the ‘The ‘Old Disc Jockey’, who is no longer with us, started as a host at CKUA in 1949. Jack left behind an incredible legacy. His shows still air every Sunday on CKUA. For more information on this remarkable man go to: https://ckua.com/read/how-john-worthington-hagerman-became-the-very-essence-of-ckua/. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://ckua.com/read/how-john-worthington-hagerman-became-the-very-essence-of-ckua/)
Outside of Edmonton’s Green Onion Cake Man restaurant, which opened in 2018, located on 118th Ave and 91st Street.
I was surfing the web reading about all the great Canadian cuisine. And then I thought of green onion cakes, made right here in Edmonton. So famous that there is an exhibit about them at the new Royal Alberta Museum. And so popular, it was suggested they be named the City’s official food. Then I checked Wikipedia only to find that green onion cakes were not listed on its Canadian Cuisine web page. How can that be?
I texted the recently opened Green Onion Cake Man restaurant in Edmonton and asked them for an interview. Maybe they knew why their highly popular Edmonton food, now found in many major cities in North America, was not on Wiki list of Canadian cuisine? Cuisine, from East Indian to Scottish food, and everything in between, was on those lists. Why not green onion cakes?
Fresh green onion cake, from the Green Onion Cake Man restaurant. When I tasted them, I wasn’t disappointed.
Green Onion Cakes: A Little History First
Chinese green onion pancakes, or Chong Yao Beng (green onion, oil pancake) is a unleavened flatbread folded with oil and finely minced green onion. It varies somewhat in ingredients and production, depending on where it is made. Traditionally a street food, it is now served in many restaurants in North America.
There are many green onion cake recipes and cakes out there to choose from. But I had to try the ones at the Green Onion Cake Man, and ask restaurant owner, Mr. Siu To, about their Edmonton origins. And, why wasn’t this cake adopted earlier in other North American cities as more Chinese people immigrated to Canada? It wasn’t long before I got some answers.
The Green Onion Cake Man Restaurant
Current research suggests that Siu To and his wife Yeenar were the founders of green onion cakes in Canada. They started making them soon after immigrating from Shandong Province, northern China in 1975. In northern China, traditional Mandarin cooking differs from southern Cantonese cooking. ‘More simple, less ingredients’, Mr. To explained to me. But Mr. To’s cooking has caught on. Recently the green onion cake story has been covered by many news outlets, especially after the opening the Green Onion Cake Man restaurant (CBC, Edmonton Sun, The Star, Jennifer Bain).
Siu To, now 79 years old, opened the Happy Garden and the Mongolian Food Experience restaurants in the late 1970s and 80s in Edmonton. His first customers were mostly Taiwanese who really liked his cakes, even though this was not typical southern Chinese fare. According to Edmonton’s historian laureate, Chris Chang-Yen Phillips, “It represents a bit of a shift in Chinese cuisine in Alberta from being a Cantonese-style cuisine to sort of experimenting with other food traditions in China.”
But it was Edmonton’s major festivals in the 1980s, Taste of Edmonton, EdmontonFolk Fest and the Fringe, that really put green onion cakes on the map. They were great festival food favorites and Siu cooked them right there.
My interview with Mr. Siu To, showing me two of his frozen products. Read on for more details below.
One of the first questions I asked Mr. To: ‘Why all the media attention in the last few years?’ He thought it was because people like genuine food being made fresh, right in front of them. That also explains why his cakes caught on at the festivals. Because he fried them right there.And they tasted great.
I entered the restaurant. It was a small, neat place, seating about twenty people, and the emphasis was all on food, not decor. Once in the door, you looked right into the kitchen and watched the cooks preparing your dishes. It reminded me of the original The Only restaurant on East Hastings Street, Vancouver, in the 1980s. Straightforward and simple. But, some of the best seafood I have ever tasted, anywhere.
Standing at the counter of the Green Onion Cake Man, I watched as Linda made fresh green onion cakes for me to take home.
I sat down with Mr. To, hoping to find out a little more about this simple, but delightful food. After only a few minutes of chatting, I already knew one reason why his cakes were so popular. This man was passionate about his cooking. And sharing it with other Canadians. As we talked, he explained that cooking was more than throwing a bunch of ingredients into a frying pan. It was an art and had to come from the heart. I couldn’t agree more.
I asked Mr. To whether the cakes he makes are like the traditional ones in northern China? Mostly, he said. But there was one major difference (which I had not read about before). He said, traditionally green onion cakes were leavened. He explained that he uses baking powder in his cakes, instead of yeast. With baking powder it was easier to control how high the dough rose.
We got around to talking about Edmonton’s numerous festivals. I asked why he choose green onion cakes for festival food, and not something more familiar to Canadians? Like Chow Mein, for example? And not surprisingly, one reason was, practicality. By preparing the green onion cake dough beforehand, he could then quickly flatten the dough balls into cakes and fry them on site. There were fewer ingredients to prepare, fewer pots and pans to carry, than cooking Chow Mein.
My last questions dealt with the popularity and origins of green onion cakes in Canada. Mr. To explained that most Chinese immigrants to Canada came from southeast China, including Taiwan and Hong Kong. Many Chinese Canadian restaurants focused on Cantonese cooking, and not so much northern Chinese cuisine. Lucky for us, Mr. To ended up in Edmonton.
And the reason for its almost instant popularity. Simple – easy to make, easy to cook, inexpensive, and very tasty. A hard combination to beat.
Have Green Onion Cakes Spread Beyond Edmonton?
After my interview, one question remained: After over forty years of existence in Edmonton, do all areas in Canada now have those yummy green onion cakes on their menus? (I asked my wife if we could do a road trip to all major North America cities to do the research. Still waiting for an answer.)
The faster, easier way to find answers was to check the web. I typed in “green onion cake restaurants in…..,” and then the name of the city. Before I get to Canada, surprisingly the few major American cities I checked some restaurants had green onion cakes listed on their menus (New York, Boston, Chicago, Seattle, Washington DC, Los Angeles, San Diego, Los Vegas). And also, London, England and Paris, France. Certainly not like Mr. To’s originals, but something similar.
Next, I checked the major Canadian cities, especially the capitals of every province, and a few extras (i.e., Montreal, Calgary, Vancouver, Saskatoon). Did any of their Chinese restaurant menus list green onion cakes? Restaurants in seven provinces (Nova Scotia, Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, Alberta, and British Columbia) listed green onion cakes. No green onion cakes on menus of any restaurants in the other six provinces (Newfoundland/Labrador, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, Nunavut, Yukon and North West Territories). The four other cities listed above had at least one restaurant that served green onion cakes (a few had over ten).
Along with these facts, and further chats with some Facebook friends, living in less populated areas of Canada, two things became apparent: 1) restaurants in the provinces with the top seven highest Chinese populations listed green onion cakes; and, 2) once you leave the high population centers, even in Alberta, green onion cakes are still a relatively unknown fare for many Canadians. I really feel for you people.
But we still don’t know whether the green onion cake idea spread from Edmonton where it originated, or, was independently conceived by new Chinese arrivals in other cities. Which ever way they spread, it required a sufficiently high Chinese population first to support this food. And that only occurred in major Canadian cities.
And like many other foods and fashions, green onion cakes are being modified according to the tastes in a particular area. In one Toronto restaurant, you can order a folded green onion cake with a chive filling. In another, the green onion cakes are thinner, flatter and flakier than what Mr. To makes.
Called ‘Chive Pockets’ on their menu, these filled pancakes from the Golden Dumpling restaurant, Toronto, look like folded green onion cakes with a filling. These thinner, flaky green onion cakes, from the Juicy Dumpling restaurant, Toronto, are similar to Mr. To’s, but with perhaps less baking powder in them.
What’s Next for the Green Onion Cake Man?
Although Mr. To isn’t exactly a spring chicken, he is still thinking of new ways to share his knowledge of northern Chinese cuisine with fellow Canadians. Now he has developed dishes for Edmontonians to cook at home.
During our interview, he brought out two samples of his frozen Chinese dishes: 1) Singapore Noodles; and, 2) Yaung Chow Fried Rice. Take them home, thaw them, cook briefly and enjoy. I can’t wait to try them.
Singapore Noodles with shrimp and a sauce to pour over the ingredients.Yaung Chow Fried Rice bowl, frozen. Just warm it up and you’re ready for a great eating experience.
Siu has now developed six frozen dishes and three frozen soups that you can cook at home. But, it wouldn’t surprise me if there is more to come.
Nothing Like the Real Thing
I had to ask Siu whether he tried green onion cakes at other restaurants. Yes, he had, but they weren’t like his. Did other restaurant owners call him for advice or for his recipe? He said, very few had but he knew they came in and tried his cakes, without talking to him.
If you are ever in Edmonton, or somewhere near 118th Avenue, go grab some green onion cakes and those new frozen dishes that you can cook at home. Even though there may be other green onion cakes out there, there’s nothing like the real thing. Made by Canada’s original Green Onion Cake Man. Mr. Siu To.
Siu To, at the Green Onion Cake Man restaurant talking to his customers.
Note: My ‘fly by the seat of my pants’ research in this article is hardly state of the art. But, it’s the best I could do on short notice, without extensively traveling. There may be other places in Canada where you might find green onion cakes, that I missed. If so, please let me know.
I recently cruised the South Pacific, ending up in Australia, before returning to Canada. I saw some pretty interesting displays of Indigenous history and culture on many of these islands, and Australia. What caught my attention was an article in THE AUSTRALIAN, December 2019 , similar to the above New Zealand piece, suggesting that there be more recognition of Australian Aborigine places in Sidney, New South Wales. But in a more visible, concrete manner – Signs for key places and suburbs in the City. That led me to thinking back about Anthony Henday’s journey into Alberta.
What are we doing in Canada (which means settlement or place in St. Lawrence Iroquois language) to recognize Indigenous history and place? A very cursory review suggests we’ve done plenty, but there is a long ways to go.
Powell River, Sunshine Coast
Recently I looked at a tourism map of the Powell River Area, Sunshine Coast, British Columbia. An area I am very familiar with and where I live for parts of the year. Most islands, and other major places, have an equivalent Tla’amin (Coast Salish) name beneath the English name. A good start, but I saw few Indigenous road or place signs in the City. It was only recently, in 2017, that the popular Willingdon Beach area in the City, the spot of a former Tla’amin Village, was recognized and signed.
In 2017 steps were also taken to incorporate more Indigenous names in the Powell River region.
Edmonton
When I look around my City, the number of Indigenous names for roads, places, etc. are few and far between. I counted two names (Bearspaw, and Ekota up to the letter M) when going through the list of streets and avenues which numbered in the thousands. The City of Edmonton claims there are a 128 Indigenous place names. However, that list contains places such as St. Albert Drive and Whitemud Drive. For me, these names are hardly Indigenous. At least I don’t see the connection.
But, there is a movement afoot in the Edmonton area to rectify this problem. I refer you to an article written by Caroline Barlott, 2017, entitled, “Naming Amiskwaskahegan: Why Edmonton’s Place Names Matter.” The author makes a convincing argument why a more Indigenous visible presence is valuable. She interviewed Calvin Bruneau, Chief of the local Papaschase Band, whose views about Indigenous place names are enlightening.
Back in 2000, while attending the EPCOR Hearings in Edmonton (on whether to expand the existing power facility), I listened to Cree Elder, Wilson Gotchew speak about the Edmonton area. He recalls that it was called, ôtênaw (A place where everyone came). The Cree also called it, ‘Amiskwaskahegan‘ (Beaver Hills House). While that may have been the name specifically for Fort Edmonton, the region where the fort was located may have had a different name – such as ôtênaw. Regardless of what it was once called (and it probably had many over the centuries) the City and region have an Indigenous equivalent which is now being recognized.
From what I understand more Indigenous names are planned for some of the new southeast neighborhoods – such as Decoteau. But surely there must be other local names. One of the problems that arises, is where do we look to find them?
The new Decoteau neighborhood, southeast Edmonton is named for Alex Decoteau, a Cree Olympian in track and field, and the first aboriginal police officer in Canada.
Back to The Henday Story and Attickasish
In my earlier Anthony Henday blog, it was evident that there were other members in Henday’s party, such as his Cree guide Attickasish, whose name could just as easily have been put on that Edmonton road, or a neighborhood, sign (or signs of any highways that run from Saskatchewan into central Alberta, such as highway 13) for his courage and knowledge in leading Henday into Alberta. Without this man, and others like him, Anthony Henday, Samuel Hearne and Henry Kelsey would not have traversed parts of the Canadian west or north, and made it out alive.
What were Middlemen/Women in the Fur Trade?
Individuals, such as Attickasish, walked in many worlds – sometimes among different First Nations or in the white traders’ world. They often brokered deals in trade and exchange between the two parties. Similar Indigenous individuals likely existed for centuries before any white contact or the advent of the Euro-Canadian fur trade. Trade and exchange were always part of First Nations culture in almost every part of North America. A few other names come to mind:
Thanadelthur
Thanadelthur (c.1697-1717) was a Chipewyan (Denesuline) woman of incredible courage. She was many things to many people – a peace maker, guide, teacher, interpreter. During this period of history, tensions between the Cree and Chipewyan were high. Thanadelthur managed to negotiate peace between the Chipewyan and Cree peoples during the early fur trade. She was also instrumental in creating ties between the Chipewyan people and the Hudson’s Bay Company. The Hudson’s Bay Company was indebted to her for being an important conduit to negotiate peace, and eventually trade.
Matonabbee
Serving as Samuel Hearne’s guide in the 1770s, Matonabbee was a powerful leader of his people and revered by the Hudson’s Bay Company. Hearne described him as the “carriers of the rest.” He organized and led his people to trade with the Hudson’s Bay Company. Without his help and influence, among his people and other First Nations, Samuel Hearne would have been toast. Dead, lying somewhere out on the Arctic tundra. Matonabbee, by bringing his people to trade with the Hudson’s Bay Company, became very wealthy; only to redistribute that wealth among his people (sometimes he was given gifts of 1,400 made beaver by the HBC before trading even began). His generosity with his people and others, earned him more power and prestige. After all, then, and now, that’s what wealth got you.
“…persevered with courage…to visit the Athapuscow Indians for several years successively; and at length …brought about a lasting peace, but also…established a trade and reciprocal interest between the two nations”. (Samuel Hearne, describing Matonabbee)
Attickasish
We know little about Attickasish except through Henday’s eyes and his few journal entries, where he is occasionally marginalized – put in the background as the ‘help’. But when you read carefully, Attickasish was a force. He, like Thanadelthur and Matonabbee, had considerable influence among his people, as well as others such as the Blackfoot, and with white traders. Here are a few excerpts about Attickasish from Henday’s journal:
July 22, 1754: “…at night I went to my tent, and told Attickasish, or Little Deer, my Leader, that had the charge of me…”
October 14, 1754: “…Attickasish, Canawappaw, Cokamanakisish, and the other of our leaders walked in from about 4 Miles farther then we; came to 200 tents of Archithinue Natives…Attickasish my guide, informed him I was sent by the Great Leader who lives down at the great waters, to invite his young men down to see him…”
From these few lines it is clear that Attickasish knew the country to successfully guide Henday west. He was the intermediary between Henday and the Blackfoot. And, he must have known some Blackfoot to interpret Henday’s wishes to their leader. Without his guidance, Anthony Henday would not have made it to the Edmonton Area.
Why Then, No Attickasish Names?
Anthony Henday is commemorated on that freeway sign. Attickasish’s name is nowhere to be found, either in the City or the Province. Eventually maybe there will be an Attickasish Highway sign, instead of that boring Highway 13 sign which runs partly across two provinces where he traveled (becoming HWY 14 in Saskatchewan). Surely we can do better than that!
The Many Problems of Naming Communities and Places
Equal voice is the key in naming places. I’m not advocating that indigenous names replace current signage or completely replace signs like Highway 13 (they should compliment them or be added when new place signage is needed); only that they have a greater presence than currently is the case. The McGillivrays, Campbells, and Rutherfords are important historic figures and should also be recognized. But they hardly represent all of Alberta’s history. To ignore the fact that other people had names for places or contributed to our past, is to evade reality.
There is a danger in denying or erasing a people’s history and identity; whether it be deliberately or inadvertently. As one famous person (whose name eludes me at the moment) aptly put it, denying a people their history results in a loss of their culture, and eventually their identity. Small, concrete gestures matter. Gestures that are seen often, by many people.
A Work of Collaboration
People from many walks of life can help in this process: Indigenous peoples, historians, ethnohistorians, archaeologists, City planners and politicians, and you the public. As an archaeologist, I can point out key places in the City that have a long Indigenous history, based on the archaeological evidence. Places you would never think of, such as Mt. Pleasant Cemetery or Magrath Heights Park, or the old Strathcona Science Park. Then its up to members of the Indigenous community to come up with appropriate names for some of these long-forgotten places.
I leave you with these last words about the significance and importance of places and signage by our current Mayor, regarding Indigenous place names and signs :
“In the gesture of working to acknowledge that the language of this place historically was a different language, that’s how we recognize and decolonize what is otherwise a narrative of conquest — and language is part of conquest.” (Mayor Don Iveson, Edmonton, 2016)
A good start but there is still much more that can be done, in the City, and the province.
In my next blog I will explore other Indigenous names and places in Alberta gathered from one of the most extraordinary, rare pieces of historic evidence – a preserved over two-hundred year old Indigenous map, drawn by a Siksikaman, for trader and explorer, Peter Fidler.
Whenever I travel down Anthony Henday Drive in Edmonton, Alberta, I am reminded of this man’s journey to Alberta 266 years ago; and of my own somewhat peculiar involvement in it. You see, there are many ways to explore and understand human history. I thought I might gain more insight into that sometimes murky past by doing something a little different. But, before I tell you about what I did, first we need a little background about Anthony Henday.
Anthony Henday Drive, a ring road which goes entirely around most of Edmonton. Constructed over a 26 year period at a cost of $4.3 billion, the highway can have a traffic volume of 106,000 vehicles per day.
Anthony Henday’s journey to Alberta
In the first half of 1990s the then Provincial Museum of Alberta wanted to develop a new First Nations gallery of culture (which opened in 1997). My job was to help develop a First Nations-European contact display. Anthony Henday I thought. That’s a great contact story. A no brainer. ‘Who is that’, you ask? You know, the dude who, in 1754, paddled, rode, walked, from Hudson Bay to Alberta to ask the ‘Archithinue’ (probably Blackfoot) to come to York Factory to trade (a distance of over 1,500km). He was one of the first white men to contact them in our province. (The French may have been in Alberta earlier. But that is another story).
“…where we were conducted to the Leader’s tent; which was at one end, large enough to contain fifty persons; where he received us seated on a clear (white) Buffalo skin, attended by 20 elderly men….Attickasish my Guide, informed him I was sent by the Great Leader who lives down at the great waters, to invite his young men down to see him and to bring with them Beaver skins, & Wolves skins; & they would get in return Powder, Shot, Guns, Cloth, Beads, &c. He made little answer: only said that it was far off, & they could not paddle.” (from Anthony Henday’s journal, October 14, 1754, somewhere near Innisfail, Alberta)
After the Blackfoot leader turned down his request, Henday wandered around Alberta for the rest of the winter with his Cree and Assiniboine companions, not really knowing where he was and almost totally dependent on them: November 16, 1754. “Women making cloathing for cold weather…” Those women made his clothing as well, or he likely would have froze to death. The group eventually ended up near or at Edmonton in the spring of 1755.
Over the years there has been considerable controversy surrounding Henday’s journal (of which there are four different versions, none being his original) and his journey west. Was the whole thing a fabrication? Did he travel this far west? And, how do we know Henday ended up in or near Edmonton? His journal entries are quite specific on both direction and distance; and, occasionally land-forms. Before coming to Canada he was a seaman (some think a smuggler) in England. Sailing required a rudimentary knowledge of navigation including the use of a compass. Note the direction and distance of some of Henday’s journal entries: Sunday, October 12, 1754: “Travelled 8 Miles. S.W.b.W.”; Wednesday, October 30, 1754: “Travelled 4 Miles W.b.N.”; Thursday, November 7, 1754. “Travelled 4 Miles N.W.”
These are compass bearings. it is highly likely Henday was using a compass rose such as the one shown below:
This compass rose has only 16 points and is divided into sixteen segments (22.5 degrees each). Some compass roses are divided into as many as 32 points of direction. On occasion Henday uses a 32 point bearing (e.g., “Travelled 4 Miles W.b.N‘).
There are also a lot of problems when taking Henday’s directions and distances and plotting them on a modern map to see where he traveled. Alwynne Beaudoin, Royal Alberta Museum, and I did just that realizing, and taking into account, that magnetic north in 1754 would not have been the same as it is today (see our article for more detail, listed in the references at the end of this blog). Also, how accurate was Henday in estimating distances in a canoe, on horseback or on foot? Here’s roughly the route that many of us think Henday took when he got near Edmonton. He likely came up Saunders Lake, and the Gwynne Channel (located south of Edmonton which connects to Blackmud Creek.) His journal entries indicate that after journeying up Saunders Lake, he trekked approximately 20km on the ice of a river until he reached the North Saskatchewan River. (A cursory look on a map of the Edmonton region shows there are not many creeks or rivers big enough to choose from). He most likely continued north up the Gwynne Channel, and then followed Blackmud Creek (which connects to Whitemud Creek) until he reached the North Saskatchewan River, putting him in today’s Edmonton – a distance of approximately 20km.
A map of the Edmonton area showing Saunders Lake, Gwynne Channel to the south, connecting to Blackmud and Whitemud Creeks to the North Saskatchewan River.
The Making of the Anthony Henday Diorama
We developed a diorama with Henday sitting in a large tipi feasting with the Blackfoot leader. One side of the tipi was open displaying a large mural depicting the rolling landscape in the Innisfail area and the camp’s curious onlookers peering in, having probably never seen a white man before:
Anthony Henday sitting to the ‘Archithinue’ Leader’s right. In the foreground are the trade gifts Henday brought with him and the bowl of buffalo tongues which the group are feasting on. His Cree ‘companion’ and Attickasish (decked out as a trading captain) are on Henday’s right. An elder sits on the left side of the Archithinue leader
Casting My Head and Hands
We needed mannequins in the Henday diorama, including Henday. I was asked if I would like to be Henday. To do that, I would have to have my head and hands cast. Without much hesitation or forethought, I agreed. What better way to get into character, and perhaps even divine what this guy was like 250 years ago. Really get inside Henday’s head.
In hindsight what was I thinking? I didn’t realize that in order to be Henday I had to have my head and hands encased in cement – well, a form of plaster of Paris. My mustache was shaved off, my eyebrows greased up and my hair covered in plastic. (Those of you who are claustrophobic should maybe stop reading this blog now.) First, they greased up my hands, then poured plaster over them, and told me not to move them. Of course, as soon as they said that I immediately wanted to move my hands. It took twenty minutes for the plaster to set and I managed hold up, kind of. But the worst was yet to come.
My head was next. What I didn’t know was that my entire head would be covered in plaster. My only connection to life consisted of two small nose holes to let me breath. At that point lots of things went through my mind; mostly of what potentially could go wrong. So, they poured plaster over my entire head with just those two little holes connecting me to life. ‘Just try to relax Heinz. This won’t take long.’ I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see. My head was getting rather warm as the plaster set. The only thing I remember thinking, was: ‘Don’t panic, don’t start hyperventilating or you will suck plaster up your nose.’
Me (Anthony Henday). There is no painting, sketch, or even a description of what Anthony Henday looked like. Born in 1725, he would have been about 29 years old when first entering Alberta. Given the time period and his rough mode of travel, he likely would have had a beard and long hair.
Despite my worst fears, the results turned out pretty good, as you can see from these images. I was dressed in the style of the time period. I received hair and a beard. Thousands of people have looked at me (Henday) over the years, not knowing who I really was. I’m still sitting there on a billboard beside the Queen Elizabeth II Highway, near Innisfail, Alberta, somewhere near where Henday probably met the Archithinue in 1754.
As to being any wiser about Henday’s life, having my head encased in plaster? I would not recommend this method to anyone.
The Historic Sites of Alberta Anthony Henday sign beside the Queen Elizabeth Highway, near Innisfail, Alberta. (Courtesy of Alberta Culture, Multiculturalism and Status of Women.)
The Henday diorama and the old Provincial Museum of Alberta are gone. So is my head. I am in the process of asking about it; maybe even getting it back. I just talked to the Director of the new Royal Alberta Museum, Mr. Chris Robinson, about my head. (He didn’t even know that I was in that diorama posing as Henday; it was before his time as director). He’s looking for it. Wish me luck.
Henday in 1997 (left). The wannabe Henday today, much greyer and older (other left).
Note: Hey, Edmontonians, or other Albertans, Canadians, take a survey of how many people know about Anthony Henday. At your next dinner party, on the streets of Edmonton, your local hockey rink. Wherever. Ask people who Anthony Henday is and what he means to this City. I’d love to hear the results. I would guess, approximately only one-third of the people you ask will know, yet many of us see that sign almost every day. I’m doing my own survey and will post all results in a later blog. Maybe by then I will have found my head.
References
Beaudoin, Alwynne Beaudoin and Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 1998. Where Was Anthony Henday and What Did He See? Alberta Archaeological Review 28:25-31. [Alwynne Beaudoin and I traveled around the Innisfail area trying to use Henday’s directions to find land-forms and reconstruct his journey. As we crested a rather high hill that morning, I looked west and saw the Rocky Mountains, as Henday might have. I (and others) always wondered why he never mentioned them in his journal, until I read a quote from David Thompson about those same mountains: “At length the Rocky Mountains came in sight like shining white clouds in the horizon, but we doubted what our guide said; but as we proceeded, they rose in height their immense masses of snow appeared above the clouds…” (David Thompson’s journals. In Travels in Western North America, 1784-1812, edited by Victor G. Hopwood, pp.94.) And, then once the humidity had increased in the afternoon, we could no longer see them.
Burpee, Lawrence J. [editor] 1973. The Journal of Anthony Henday, 1754-55. York Factory to the Blackfoot Country. Canadian House, Toronto. [There is a lot of controversy around Henday’s journal, of which there are four different versions, and where exactly he traveled. Some scholars even claim they are a fabrication. However, based on his descriptions of land-forms, rivers, and directions, I believe he did make it to Alberta. Just not always where Burpee puts him. Despite all these problems, the Henday journal is a great little read]
MacGregor, J.G. 1954. Behold the Shining Mountains. Applied Arts Products Ltd., Edmonton, Alberta. [Historian, James MacGregor also plotted Henday’s route from Hudson Bay to Alberta, based on his journal entries. It differs considerably from Burpee’s map. Burpee has Henday turning south, after meeting the Archithinue, and returning to York Factory, via the Red Deer River while MacGregor has him turning north and ending up along the North Saskatchewan River. Almost al Henday’s entries after that meeting are to the west and north.]
I live in the tranquil, lovely neighborhood of Pleasantview, located in the heart of Edmonton. My house sits at the base of Mount Pleasant Cemetery, which is perched on a very high hill (known as a kame – a short ridge, hill, or mound deposited by glacial melt-water sediments). Based on past research, similar large hills in Edmonton contain archaeological sites representing a First Nations history that goes back thousands of years (for more details see: Heinz W. Pyszczyk, Elizabeth Noble, Ross W. Wein. 2006. ‘Aboriginal Land Use in the Greater Edmonton Area’. In: Coyotes Still Sing in My Valley : Conserving Biodiversity in a Northern City. Spotted Cow Press). But one would never know it, by just looking around the neighborhood.
The top of Mount Pleasant Cemetery, one of Edmonton’s highest points of land. This south facing hilltop would have been an ideal camping and lookout spot.
Excavations, by Mr. Charles Ramsey, Stantec, at the base of Rabbit Hill (a kame), southwest Edmonton, before residential development.
Projectile points found at the Rabbit Hill excavations, some dating back to approximately five thousand years ago.
My Back Yard
It was reasonable to ask then, what might be in my back yard, since it is located close to the base of a kame?
As I was building my new walkway in the back yard, here is what I found. It wasn’t an earth-shattering discovery – actually, almost expected given what we know about these hills. But, it did show that First Nations People camped here long before the first Europeans ever stepped on this ground.
Some artifacts from my back yard. From left to right: Two quartzite stone flakes from making stone tools; a quartzite uniface, perhaps being shaped into a knife; and, a piece of butchered animal bone.
Much of the ground in my neighborhood, including my back yard, has been severely disturbed over the years, so these artifacts are no longer in their original context. It is virtually impossible to date the stone artifacts. But there are still some places in my community, and elsewhere in Edmonton, where the ground is not disturbed, where intact archaeological deposits might still be present.
So people of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, what lies beneath your feet that you don’t know about? Probably more than you think!
References
Very little published material exists about the Prehistory (that period of human history before the written record) of the Greater Edmonton Area. Here are a few key references (but by no means all) about First Nations archaeology before Europeans entered Alberta:
Pyszczyk,
Heinz W. 1996. Archaeology Guide
& Tour of Greater Edmonton Area. Provincial Museum of Alberta. (Copies
of this booklet should be in the Edmonton Public Library, or University of
Alberta Library)
Pyszczyk,
Heinz W., Elizabeth Noble, Ross W. Wein.
2006. Aboriginal Land Use in the Greater Edmonton Area. In Coyotes
Still Sing in My Valley: Conserving Biodiversity in a Northern City, edited
by Ross W. Wein. Spotted Cow Press.
B. Newton and J. Pollock, J. W. Ives, Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 1985. Strathcona Site (FjPi-29) Excavations. Archaeological Survey of Alberta. Manuscript Series 2, 3, & 4. Alberta Culture. (This volume is out of print but should be in the University of Alberta library, and perhaps in the Edmonton Public Library. This is a technical report describing the archaeological remains recovered from the Strathcona site in east Edmonton.)
Losey, T. C. 1971. The Stony Plain Quarry Site. Plains Anthropologist, 16-52: 138-154. (Description of a Prehistoric site along the Saskatchewan River, west of Stony Plain, Alberta. Quite technical.)
