The Lucknow Sentinel, 1986-09-24, Page 4Page tueWow Sentinel, Wednesday, September 24, 1986
P.O. Box 400, Lucknow NOG 2110
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Hard work necessary
to make fair succossfal.
Whie most things are rarefy all things to all people, the 11.23rd edition
of the Lucknow Fail Fair came ,as close as humanly possible. .
Lucknow and area turned out In full force to make yet another fair a
success. While 'the attendance ;figures' aren't in yet, Lucknow
.Agricultural Society Secretary Ross .Errington said the ettendance was
about the same as last year's fair,. However, a jammpacked Lucknow
Community Centre played host to the Mies lVildwestern Ontario Pageant
with approximately 94g people attending: the first-class evenng which
alsofeatured the Carlton Show Band Who again provided excellent music
this year.
The fair contained every type of entertainment available with games
and contests .from frog races to.. atilt-waiking .for the younger people;
kiddie. rides
provided by the Bayfield .Lions. Club for .the toddlers;
livestock and horse competitions for the agricuitural.organizatlons In the
area .and lots of. things to see and . do for thole who preferred just to
`browse.
' Fall Fairs, In. this day and age, aren't a ,cheap proposition. High
overhead costs and extremely high costs for liabli ty Insurance are, in
many area communities, putting, a yearly fall .fair out of reach.
It's a .credit to the. Lucknow Agricultural Society, the organizers .of the
Fall Fair, to accept these :challenges and stili be . able to come away with
an extremely successful effort year In and year out. ASR
Write a letter
ro the: Editor
All aboard for a hayride
It was a great Sunday afternoon
through and through.
I'm referring to an aftem i n I .spent
two weeks ago with some horsealovers
in the Kinloss area who get together
every so often to hitch up their horses
and go for an old-fashioned hayride
throne the backroads of Kinloss Town-
ship just for the enjoyment of it.
On au invitation from Leo Murray to
perhaps get a few pictures of their
wagoneer and their horses before the
ride at the farm of Gerald Murray of RR
1 1lolyrood, I set out for the farm on a
cool Sunday morning. Rowever,, 1
didn't bargain to be asked along to ride
on the back of Mr; Murray's wagon for
the scenic country cruise.
Suffice it to say a 1 accepted,.
With a pair of riding horses turned
wagon horses for the trip (one of Mr.
Murray's draught horses had a foal
recently and was spared the trip) we set
out down one of the concession roads
with 12 other wagons' ahead of us,
One of the ,most out,ofnthe,ordinary
teams to make the trip was a pair of
donkeys called Minnie and Jennie
belonging to Jack MacKenzie of RR 3
Lucknow, The duo, brought up to
,Canada from the southern United States
some time ago, were all decked out for
the trip with matching straw hats which
fit comfortably over their *i -inch long
ears.'
ALAN
Far from being slow, the two kept up
with the rest of the pack for the whole
seven miles, ,ouch to the surprise of the
owners of the much larger draught
horses.
The day was an opportunity to just sit
back and enjoy the ride, and especially
enjoy the picturesque natural beauty of
the area which you somehow miss When
you are locked in the confines of an
automobile, As one person put it: "If
only some of those city people could
experience something like this just
once. This is really living!"
Except for the regular "pit stops",.
the wagon train arrived back at home
base about two hours later. Upon
arrival, everyone on the wagons was
buzzing about the wonderful afternoon
on the wagons.
For me, it was a super time that I
hadn't bargained for. Special thanks • to.
Mr, Leo Murray and the other riders on
out wagon, for putting up with my
incessant picture taking (although 1 ran
out of film about half way through).
Editor's note: Due to the recent death of
Don Campbell, the author of the popular
Redtrees column for the Sentinel and other
newspapers in the area, we 'thought if
would be a fitting tribute to Mr, Campbell
to reprint the last column of Redtrees. It
appeared in the Sentinel on ,August 27,
What is one lifespan as compared to the ,
age of this old earth? Just a raindrop in a
barrel of time! In only,a fleeting moment
we are born to engage in the battle of sur-
vival, knowing all too soon, we shall slip
quietly and unnoticed into oblivion.
Beyond the close circle of family and
friends, few of us are privileged to leave
even the faintest mark upon the pages 'of
history. Inevitably, all things must come
to an end and today, you and 1 will be say-
ing goodbye to Redtrees,
"Where is Redtrees?" Although 1 have
been asked this question a thousand times,
1 have evaded the answer until now,1 knew
many of my readers would be disappointed
to learn the Canadian Scottish settlement
was merely a figment of my imagination.
At least, that is what it started out to be.
But 1 am a sentimental dreamer and have
allowed my fantasies to run wild. 1 .can
even stnell the wood smoke rising from the
log cabins. To me, Redtrees represents
every eominunity carved from a harsh
wilderness by the pioneers.
"Why was it called Redtrees? The
Reverend Duncan MacLeod saw a
message from heaven written into the
crimson beauty of the maple trees. "W.e
should look no mare free a name," he
shouted triumphantly as he pointed to the
flaming tree tops. "Can ye no see it written
by the hand of Almighty God? Thisplace is
Redtrees
Human nature has changed little over
the last hundred years and many people in
my own community resemble their
counterparts in Redtrees, 1 see a little of
Doctor Cameron in every ,medical practi-
tioner who who places his calling above
material gain and I regret his personal
sacrifice is not fully appreciated by those
he so diligently serves. It was ever thus.
When 1 see the pirates of religion making
their weekly tear -jerking plea for funds on
television to a gullible public, I am
thankful the majority of ministers shun
blatant hypocracy. The Reverend Duncan
MacLeod, without elaborate sets, actors,
and lavish auditoriums with the angelic
choirs and musicians, managed to put his
message across when he said: "kis easier
for a camel to pass through the eye of a
needle than for a rich man to enter into the
Kingdom of God."
Thankfully, the strong,silent men of our
Chatting
.
y Aktoltivitt..
community (such as Hamish Murdoch and.
Allan Livingstone) still remind us that "if
a country is worth living in, it is worth
fighting for". They belong to a fast disap-
pearing breed which, once ensured our
future and gave us a reason to be proud
and patriotic. They might ask us what we
have done to deserve the right to live in-
such
nsuch a bountiful land. Who will defend
freedom and democracy when all the real
Canadians have disappeared from the.
s e e n e ?
When things look gloomy . there is
nothing we can do except laugh, and We
are grateful to all the Chippy Chisholm of
this world. We listen to their outlandish
tales over and over again, Just look
around, I am sure you will see old Chippy
wherever men gather to escape from the
women who presuinbly dominate their
lives.
The real backbone of Redtrees was its
womenfolk. Behind the scenes, they stood
by their men, through all adversities,
hiding their fears of the unknown in a
strange and hostile bush. If any good has
emerged from these modern times, it is
surely we now recognize they are equal (if
not superior) to men.
I have left the main character until last.
Neil MacCriinmon is the one who is closest
to my heart. Until be emigrated to Canada,
he lived in a croft on the Isle of Skye with
his father, and scratched a living as a
sheep farmer, When he had the opportuni-
ty to escape from his poverty-stricken en-
vironment, he. was reluctant to leave his
father. Normally, Neil was not given to
signs of emotion, but as he was walking
away from the croft with MacLeod, he saw
his father,s face at the window.
"Wait another minute Reverend. I hae
tae run back an' say goodbye tae rni father
just one more tirlrie."
"If it's forever, MacCrimmon,"
MacLeod said. "How many times can you.
say goodbye?"
So as I go, let me imagine the pipes of
MacCrimmon playing a lament for the
passing of Redtrees. Perhaps you will
allow me to visualize all my readers as
friends and hope my writings in some way
added a little happiness to their lives. The
motto of the Campbells is "Ne
Cbliviscaris" (Forget not). I hope Red»
trees and I will be remembered.