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Dido hated being wet and cold. It bothered his arthritis which was everywhere in his body but espe cially bad in his legs. There’s a wrinkled black and white picture of him back when he was young and strong and looking as invicible as anyone would if they had seven brothers. He’s standing beside a trapper’s tent in the bush up north. Behind him are hundreds of muskrat skins strung out on a line. That’s how he bought his first piece of land — by standing knee deep in icy water, setting traps. Jakoc “ Kuba” Harasymm was Dido’s father. In 1906, he came from Chorkol, Ukraine in Halychyna, to work in a flour mill in Sifton, owned by Ukrainians who had immigrated earlier. He was one of thousands of Ukrain ian immigrants also known as Galicians, Bolsheviks, Bohunks, and garlic eaters. Eventually some of them were labelled enemies of the state and they were interned in camps across the country. Around 1915, camping in Banff or Jasper was not a pass-time that Ukrainians pursued willingly. More likely, they were there as pri soners of Canada. A few never left, dying in the camps or, like Ivan Hryhoryschuk, killed while attempting to escape. But just as my great-grandfather sometimes passed as a Russian to gain social privileges back in Europe, he would learn to pass as an Anglo, Jacob Har rison, in Canada. During the depression, Dido rode the rails with a few of his brothers and thousands of his peers. He didn’t go to war but some of his brothers did. One of them ran away. Walked away from the barracks and went home. Three months later they retrieved him from his parents’ fields and gave him free room and board in the Headingly jail. Dido and all his brothers eventually settled down with families. They became milkmen, farmers, gas sta tion owners, plumbers, and citizens of Canada. But they weren’t quite Canadians. Their first language was Ukrainian and Christmas was celebrated on January 6th, not December 24th. The Ukrainian Catholic Church was the center of their social life and making home brew was a cultural pursuit no different from cooking pyrohy, holubtsi or borshch. They married Ukrainian girls from Ukrainian communities in Ukrainian ceremo nies. And for the most part, Dido’s Kids did the same. And they too lived in small Ukrainian towns on the prar- ies. But now and again, one or two moved to Winnipeg or Edmonton or Calgary where they lived with Germans, Italians, Poles, Czechs, Roman Catholics, Protestants and Baptists. Inevitably, the sons and daughters of Dido’s children grew up, and before anyone realized that it had happened, Dido’s grandsons and granddaughters grew up too. And they had become Canadians. We might understand some Ukrainian, but we don’t speak it. We married Germans and Italians and Poles and Roman Catholics and Protestants and Baptists. We’re doctors and teachers and firefighters and public servants. Christmas comes in December and Easter is here when the kids are off from school. Baba is a long drive away and somewhere along the line nobody learned how to make good borshch. We spent a few weeks in the summmer with Baba and Dido when we were small, but now that we’re older and married, no one seems to go back except for funerals. I wish I had kept Dido’s wallet, but at the time, it didn’t seem like much. The leather was cracked and worn and except for the driver’s license and an old receipt, there was nothing hidden inside. Nothing except a baptism certificate, tucked away in the plastic window, that read Petro Harasym. About the author: Cal Harrison is a 30 year old marketing man ager in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. He spent his early years in Dauphin, Manitoba, a strong Ukrainian center north of Win nipeg. Summers and special occasions were also spent with his grandparents on their small mixed farms near Dauphin where he learned the customs and culture of his Ukrainian ancestors. Currently Cal lives in suburban Winnipeg with his first generation Italian wife and is working on an MBA at the University of Manitoba. Although he is well published as an illustrator, this is his first published work as a writer. ERRATA On page 21 of the September 1996 issue of Our Life, in the biography of Mary Dushnyck, the next to the last paragraph in column two should read: “ In 1991 I was elected vice-president of the Ukrainian National Association (UNA) (“Soyuz”) and served four 4-year terms (16 years). I also chaired its Women’s Committee which was charged with building the Lesia Ukrainka monument in Soyuzivka. Isydora Borysova, sister of Lesia Ukrainka, was present at the unveil ing in 1976. Since 1982 I have been an Honorary Member of the UNA General Assembly” . On page 22, paragraph 2, line 9 should read”... and for Sen. J. Buckley.” We regret the errors. Видання C оюзу Українок A мерики - перевидано в електронному форматі в 2012 році . A рхів C У A - Ню Йорк , Н . Й . C Ш A.
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