The Hess Family

By Joe Hess and Daphne Garrison

John Baptiste Hess was born January 1, 1848 at 6AM in Alsace.

Photo in Kansas about 1891, census 1900

John moved from Wichita, Kansas, to Edmonton in August 1902. He had taken a look at the country the summer before and this time, brought his family. His 21 year‑old son, Edward, and a neighbor, Isador Kehl, came with the freight car that brought their household belongings and four horses.

John Hess, his wife, daughters Katie and Clara, and 11 year old son Joe, came on the train.

The land rush was in full swing and the little city was thronged with immigrants. Accommodation was hard to find and the Hess' at last moved into an old store building at Lamoureux, near Fort Saskatchewan.

Here, they found pasture for the two horses they would need in the search for land. There were good neighbors near by; a family named Robinson who ran a small hotel. They had several children, includ­ing a baby, still in the cradle, named Violet.

John Hess, his older son, and Isador Kehl received plenty of advice at the Land Office and from other immigrants. They visited several dis­tricts, trying out the various trails that led out of the city. One of the best of these was the Landing Trail.

John Hess was not making his first move. He had endured great hardships as a solider in the short but disastrous war of 1870 that gave his native Alsace‑Lorraine to the Germans. Like a good many of his fellow‑citizens, he immigrated to America, followed a little later by this younger brother Edward.

They settled first in Fishbach, Pennsylvania, where there was a little colony of their countrymen. John was married there to Marie Magdalena Reith, daughter of Christian and Elizabeth Reith, fellow countrymen of Alsace‑Lorraine. John and his bride moved to Kansas as part of the westward migration that filled the roads of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri, with covered wagons, often hopefully dis­playing the slogan, "Kansas or Bust!" It is sad to record that many returned after only months, some grimly carrying the notice, "Kansas and the Busted!"

The Hess' did better than that. They stayed sev­eral years and John's children Edward, John Jr., Cecelia, Catherine, Clara and Joseph were born there. John Jr. and Cecelia died and were buried near Wilson, Kansas. Then, wearied of drought and tor­nadoes, they came to a far, new frontier where they would spend the rest of their lives. Edward and his family came in 1904 and settled near his brother.

All freighting ended on the Landing Trail when the railway reached Athabasca in 1912. Some time in that year, the last freighter would have made his last journey, unmarked and soon forgotten.

Before that time, great changes had occurred in the Hess family. Joe's mother died in 1905. In 1907, Katie married Billy Starr. They had 10 children: Helen, Con, Harold, Edward, Edna, Edith, Hettie, Violet, Doris, and Irene. The next year, his second sister, Clara married Roy Watts. (They had no fami­ly.) For a time, John Hess and his sons managed alone, and the sons were glad enough when their father married, the amiable and efficient, Mrs. Watts.

In 1913, Joe's brother Edward married Eleanor Rivers, daughter of Lawrence Rivers. They had six children: Roy, Harry, Lawrence, Marie, Ray, and Marilyn. Lawrence Rivers, an American homestead­er, played the violin for most of the neighbourhood dances. Rivers seemed remarkable. In a land where everybody rode horseback or drove a vehicle, he was a great walker. He thought nothing of going on foot to Edmonton and he made better time than some with teams.

The children who came with their parents to the settlements were growing up. Uncle Edward's lot, the Donnelly family, the Partons and Nelsons over west. Most of them expected to go on with the work their fathers had begun‑ Meanwhile, they would have a little fun. They would dance and play base­ball. They would go berrying. They would make love, get married, and have children who would do the same things all over again.

When the rails of another road reached Westlock, there was one more outlet for the crops of the north. Life would be a quiet climb toward success in the best country, they thought, on the conti­nent.

The First World War hurried the development of the farms as North Americans were urged to pro­duce more and more grain and meat for Britain and her allies. Joe Hess farmed the land of his aging father and his own.

Whether any young man as good‑looking as Joe was, with is black curly hair, flashing eyes and quick smile, actually remained "fancy‑free" is anyone's guess. But in 1918, he met the Robinson family again, and the baby, Violet, had grown to be a charming young girl. Thenceforth, Joe was in a hurry to assume the lifetime bonds.

The Robinsons had moved from Lamoureux to Radway Centre and then to Jeffrey. That was close enough for horseback visits. As his confidence grew, Joe appeared in a top‑buggy with a team, a white horse and a bay. Mrs. Hess remembers. They could go for a buggy ride or two. The cutter afforded still greater intimacy as the sleigh‑bells jingled and young cheeks grew red with cold.

They were married January 30, 1919.

The rest of their story is like that of many, a bit of prosperity in the good years after the war; the Great Depression when farmers had no money but plenty of food; the Second World War.

Their son, Walter served in the Army overseas. Again, Joe Hess kept the farm running, the "Homefires burning," as we called it. He farmed until 1958 when failing health caused him to retire to the wellknown little home in Westlock.

The children had all grown‑up and married: Walter to a girl from Ontario, Anne Tucker; Margorie to Tim Lynch, a son of a pioneer neighbor; Clara to Dr. Theron Garrison, son of William Garrison, a pioneer of the Edison settlement; Viola to Harry Lane, son of Tommy Lane, a well‑known farmer near Westlock; Pat to Ed Dempster, son of Tom Dempster, over on Highway 2.

There are 16 grandchildren and numerous greatgrandchildren. Many of whom gathered around at the golden anniversary of their parents in 1969.

Failing hearing kept Joe from enjoying any large gathering. But with his modern aid, he could talk well with friends, old and new, and they lightened his last years. With his family around him, Joe died in 1971 after a few days' hospitalization. Nobody ever left the Hess home without feeling a little better, what with Joe's stories of the old days and Vi's good coffee and baking.

Men like Joe Hess, like the land they serve, are the deep foundation of a nation's life. They lack the powerful drive that brought his father and uncle across an ocean and a great continent. They need no such urge; they are already here in the dear, chosen land. Not caring much for riches, they are happy in their work with their families and friends. They care very little about what is on the other side of the hill; it is probably very much like this side.

They feed the nation and millions beyond its boundaries. On a continent that has forgotten famine, they are little valued. The are readily exploited but slow to anger. They have enough material goods for their simple needs. As long as there are enough of these kindly simple‑hearted men of the soil, the nation is safe.

For they are the salt of the earth and we may add with fear of little contradiction; "Of such are the Kingdom of Heaven!"