HUMBOLT A MEMORY

                                         Coincidences, or something more?

This is April the 8^th 2018, two days after the horrific Bus crash of the Humbolt Broncos Hockey team.

The name Humbolt, has had an effect twice in my life. Once when playing hockey in Humbolt Saskatchewan in 1955/56. And again, about seventy years later while exploring my genealogy tree.

In the 1950 to 1956 time frame a group of rather talented teenage hockey players who for one reason or another, were not playing organized hockey so they decided to form a touring hockey team. This rag tag bunch hailed from several High Schools in the Saskatoon area. They would play any team, any age group, anywhere. The idea was to have fun, be entertaining, (like the Harlem globetrotters) and with any luck, win all our games.

They were called The Saskatoon Wildcats. 

It was a bitter cold evening in late December or January 1955/56, as we pulled into the parking lot. As usual we were almost late, and the building was already full. We were playing their Senior team and were looking forward a good clean game. Our team received relatively few penalties, partly because we only had four defencemen and six forwards. We had some very good players such as, Manager, Rudy Sokalofsky, (he did everything) Art Jones, Bob Stark, Vic Worobey, Bruce Pultz, Irvin Sabadka, Brian Bearling, Me, and others I just cannot remember with my 83-year-old brain.

We were playing the Humbolt Senior Team.

The Game began and was a see-saw battle through the first two periods. In the third period they got a goal at about half time, we tied the score a few minutes later.

I won the faceoff and through a few nice passing plays, suddenly I was almost on a clear breakaway, that is except for one of their excellent defenceman. He was sort of hanging on to me as I tried to get around him. I had just fought clear when I felt his glove grab my leg and I fell to my knees.

 The defenceman fell on top of me. I managed to pull away, with all my might. Just as I managed to get clear of the defenceman despite the noise and excitement I heard a soft exclamation “Oh my God.”

Any forward playing Hockey in any league, after getting away from a defenceman, has one thing in mind ‘Go fast, Score’

To this day I don’t know why, but I stopped instantly, and turned back to see the fallen defenceman. 

Just writing this paper today I cringe as I remember!

He was laying on his back, there was a slight gurgling sound. Suddenly blood was bubbling out of his upper thigh area, right through his heavy hockey stocking! He looked at me with wide eyes as I dived on top of him. He was losing his color. I placed both hands over the bubbling blood and pushed as hard as I could, as I screamed at the top of my lungs for a Doctor. It was then I realized I was being punched on the head by what turned out to be his brother.

 Then the brother realized the situation and put his hands over mine. I realized this boy was going to die if we didn’t get a tourniquet.

 I pulled my hands from under his brothers and skated (and screamed for help) as fast as I could to the far end of the rink, jumped over the boards and ran through the crowd to the small eating area, leaped over the counter and grabbed a towel out of the hand of a girl drying dishes, and immediately ran back. By the time I got back, probably two minuets, there was a small crowd surrounding the fallen player, he was unconscious. I believe there was at least one doctor, and maybe a nurse or two.

 From that time until we got to the dressing room I remember nothing. My brain had turned off, I didn’t know what was going on. The injured player was rushed out through the rear doors. (we were later told the hospital was behind the rink). Both teams were sent to their dressing rooms    We understood this was to clean the ice (a large area of blood) and decide if the game would go on. We didn’t want to continue and understood the other team did not. As we sat there in total silence, some of us took our skates off to rest our feet.

I took off my left skate first, what a relief as it slid off, and my toes started to recover.  The instant I started on my right skate I noticed it seemed a darker color, and my dark colored stockings, seemed darker. Then as I pulled the skate very gently off, a small trickle of blood rolled off the skate. I then noticed the back of my skate blade was covered in dried blood. Then the enormity of the situation struck me.

“Oh no!” I cried. “My blade must have cut his leg.”                                                                                                                    

My skates had been sharpened so many times, the back of both blades had been ground down to a virtual point.

As it turned out, the blade tip had entered deep into his thigh, and when I pulled extra hard, his artery had been severed.

In those days skate blades didn’t have the plastic tips on the back to prevent just this sort of accident.

The officials decided the game would continue. Both teams played as in a trance, we won by a large score and have felt guilty ever since.

Our team volunteered to give blood, and stayed at the rink for several hours, until the hospital told us to go home.

                                                  Part Two – Humbolt -  Genealogy

In the 1911 Canadian Census I found my Grandmother and Grandfather lived in Humbolt Saskatchewan, with their three children, Wilfred, Walter, and Hunter.

They both worked in the one large hotel, William as the Cook, and Nellie as a Waitress. The 1911 Census was very detailed giving wages and number of hours the citizens worked.

A very and intriguing aspect of this Census was the family appears to have been done twice. Once at the Hotel by the Parents, and again, by Nellie’s Mother, Melisa Visiting from Ireland I believe to help with the Children.