
Fanny's Gift
©2006 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Now Fanny's past and breathed her last - we've lost a lovely soul
Nota bene, one of many, whose plight they will condole
While they profess their big success - two thousand ten again
It's bitter yokes they've left the folks who built this land for them
Refrain They did their best, their comtempt expressed, they laid her in the ground
But she's thumbed her nose,their contempt exposed, her plight's become renowned
The seed will root, the plant will shoot, her name will carry on
And Fanny's gift will uplift and bloom 'til they are gone
Now Alfie's heart was torn apart by what they did to her
He couldn't face that empty place - the loss of his dear girl
A love so long, a love so strong it couldn't be denied
They've placed their blame, not theirs they claim, I guess they're satisfied
She's made it clear we'd better fear it might happen to us all
Her voice has grown and they've been shown the way of their downfall
They will disclaim for that's their aim to play the numbers game
So let's be clear to their tin ear - Victoria's to blame

Through Your Eyes
©2006 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
As you gaze at your days in the pages of your life
The highways and byways, the choices were rife
If you find you're inclined to friendships strong and true
And you can count a few of those, you're blest enough for two
Refrain Alfie, you are one of those and I am truly blest
Your humour's like the alpenglows that warm a person's breast
Your words have shown my mind replays, my thanks for such a prize
I've seen a hundred years of days by looking through your eyes
On your birth, for what it's worth, Twain gave his last show
Reports that had him lost at sea - he'd look and let them know
His finale, Comet Halley, was the outset of your days
You've seen it twice, it's still as bright, you've lived within it's blaze
Looking back, keeping track of the fates of all your peers
They've all passed on and left you now in the twilight of your years
But you still can instill the joy that you extend
I thank my stars I've had the chance to call you my friend
Made me laugh, belly laugh, 'til the tears ran down my face
You've always been a friend to me, you've treated me with grace
Won't forget, won't regret; I'll always have that spot
Inside my mind for you to live, you'll come alive in thought

I Would Have Said
©2007 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
97 years, it was hard to believe, you were young, so young at heart
I never really felt you wouldn't be there, the basement would ever be dark
I never realy got the feeling it was time to say what I would have said
To thank you for the friendship, the stories and the humour I'll remember in the years ahead
Refrain You caught me by surprise, you never let me say goodbyes when you slipped away so fast
I would have said I wasn't ready, that my heading wasn't steady, wasn't ready for our time to have passed
I would have said that all your stories I would save in repertories to fill the years ahead
I would have said I would remember them and never surrender them, but cherish them instead
I would have left nothing unsaid
You lived your life well and you lived it on your own terms right up to the end
You knew that we would all be wanting you to carry on, your sorrow to transend
I understand why you went with no good-bye but it's hard to let it go
When you had so much to give it's us who has to live without your afterglow
You understand my mourning isn't so much for your passing as it is for my own loss
You lived your life full, you left when you were ready, you were always your own boss
But you left us all wanting just another corresponding with your spirit for your swan song
I cherish our time, I celebrate your life, I only wish I'd said so long

Ass Full of Glass
©2004 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Fanny whispered quietly in Alfie's ear
I really really really need a clothesline dear
Alfie figured big was his wife's desire
And a telephone pole would light up her fire
He planted that pole straight by the thumb
He crooked a hook and took a look and said: "That's plumb!"
Of Sourdough Alley it became the nub
Lines from the neighbours all joined the hub
One day the line got jammed up good
So Alfie got his spurs and he climbed that wood
Thirty feet he climbed up from the ground
Then he froze up and he couldn't come down
An hour came and went 'til Fanny came around
Alf said: "Get the firemen here to get me to the ground!"
But Fanny just laughed and never had a clue
She left him high and dry and wondering what to do
Another hour passed then Fanny came again
Alfie said: "I'm spittin' mad - I need the firemen!"
She left him again to ponder how the day would fare
He'd have to help himself or spend his life up there
He grabbed on tight and rode the pole on down
That mighty beak his only brake, his chin was turned to brown
Splinters sprouting from his face he hit the ground and lay
And thanked the lord that he would live to see another day
He hung up his spurs, kept his feet upon the ground
Then one day his mother's chimney got soot bound
He went and got a fire ladder in his panel truck
He ran it through the back but too far out it stuck
He ran it in the drivers side and stuck his head up through
And hooked his chin upon a rung and kept it straight and true
He thought he had it figured 'til his mother's came in sight
But then he had to back the truck to make the corner tight
The ladder hit the bank and drove it forward through the glass
And Alfie found himself on his ass in the grass
He sat there and pondered how his plight had come to pass
The ladder round his neck and his ass full of glass

Med Michaely
©1925-2005 Albo/Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Med Michaely with a rick - rick - rickety Ford,
Med Michaely, riding around like an English lord.
He took Petri for a spin,
They rode out, they had to walk in.
Med Michaely with a rick - rick - rickety Ford.
Toots Chenoweth was a gallopin' fool of a lad.
Toots raced Dolly down Columbia like he was mad.
Neck in neck with Henderson's “Rags”,
Crowe's “Black Beauty” to the rear did lag.
Toots Chenoweth was a gallopin' fool of a lad.
Toots and Dolly, like lightning down the street;
Toots yelled “Haw!” but Dolly had to go “Gee!”
Her oats were up on Washington Street,
But the Bank of Montreal first heard her hoofbeat.
Toots and Dolly, like lightning down the street.
Eldred Jewell, with a shake-shake-shakity hand,
Eldred Jewell, as a hunter shoulda been banned.
He spotted that grouse and he started to shake,
He shot through the roof before Alfie could brake.
Eldred Jewell, with a shake-shake-shakity hand.
Father Mac with the slip-slip-slippery Ford,
Father Mac said a prayer to his Lord.
He slid on down the hill on First,
Thru the bank on the corner the car did burst.
Father Mac with the slip-slip-slippery Ford.
Ollie Tishauser went to drop that steer.
Ollie Tishauser showed that steer no fear.
A hammer in one hand he swung,
A scimitar in the other was slung.
Ollie Tishauser went to drop that steer.
Ollie Tishauser couldn't believe his eyes.
Ollie Tishuaser gaped as the steer did rise.
He ran like hell with no pretense,
Ass in hand he jumped that fence.
Ollie Tishauser couldn't believe his eyes.

The Jug in the Sun
©2003 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
I'll tell you a story of the day Roy Stephens' Hudson almost burned,
And Alfie solved the mystery and explained the lesson learned.
Now Roy would never ever drink the water from the reservoir.
It was full of frogs and they pissed and they crapped, and who knows how much more?
Margaret and Roy would always go to the water barrel on the Cascade,
And fill their jugs, and go for a walk, and talk of the life they'd made.
When Margaret and Roy returned from their walk the smoke hung like a veil.
Roy couldn't get to Alf's garage quick enough to rant and rail.
Refrain
"Kid," he said, "you better come and have a look at the Hudson's wires.
The car caught fire, short circuit in the wire, near burnt her to the tires".
Alf said "Roy, that could never happen, that's not where the wires run.
It was the jug in the sun, magnified a ton, that accounts for the damage done".

Toe Tappin' - No Rappin'
©2003 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Remember the days when swing was king, two steppin' around the floor?
Jumpin' and a jivin', whalin' and a dippin', callin' out for more.
The dancin' of the fiddle like water on a griddle with the steel guitar between.
The clarinet's silk, the growl of the sax; the drummer's on caffeine.
Refrain
Gimme that toe-tappin', no rappin', finger snappin' beat.
I like that knee slappin', swingin' on the eight beat, bouncin' in my seat.
With a flat pickin', silly grinnin' smile upon my face,
While the two steppin', whirlin' couples twirl at a furious pace
Remember the time when rhythm was religion and the back beat carried the tune?
Folks would get wound from the beat of the sound and some even howl at the moon.
You couldn't sit still or stand in one place, you had to be movin' around.
Guitar pickin' eight notes, drummer and bass makin' swing time in the background
Remember the bands who could make you jump; do you long for days like those?
Bob with the western swing playin' San Antonio Rose.
Benny and Glenn with the big bands gettin' everyone in the mood,
And lining up to take a ride on the Chatanooga Choo.
Remember the tunes that would stick in your head and soar to the top of the chart?
Judy went to see the wizard and sang from the strings of her heart.
Red had rhythm and Ted was in the money and Artie began the Beguine.
Paul hung his hat on a paper moon while Jimmy ate tangerine.
Remember Benny jumpin' at one o'clock in a little grass shack by the sea.
While Glenn was on american patrol, keepin' the country free.
Benny was singin' with a swing while Glenn was lost on a wing.
Duke said it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing.
If you've come here for the answers to the puzzle about how many big band
swing songs are referred to in the lyrics, here they are:
1st Verse - Jump,Jive, and Wail (Louis Prima).
3rd Verse -
San Anotonio Rose (Bob Wills), In the Mood and Chatanooga Choo Choo (Glenn Miller). These three in the 3rd verse are also where the
guitar accompaniment plays variations of their themes;
4th Verse - We're Off To See The Wizard and Zing! Went
The Strings Of My Heart (Judy Garland), I Got Rhythm (Red Nichols), We're In The Money (Ted Lewis), Begin The Beguine
(Artie Shaw), It's Only A Paper Moon (Paul Whiteman), Tangerine (Jimmy Dorsey);
5th Verse - One O'Clock Jump and My Little Grass Shack in
Kealakekua Hawaii and Sing Sing Sing With A Swing (Benny Goodman); American Patrol (Glenn Miller); It Don't Mean A Thing If It Ain't
Got That Swing (Duke Ellington)

Groomers' Goddess
©2003 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Refrain
Early in the morning, just before the dawn, the morning star appears and you know
That Venus, the groomers' goddess, will wash away the night and bring the morning on with a glow.
Four days of grooming the ski runs on the hill; twelve hours a night, that's your fate.
Working when it's dark and sleeping when it's light; four days to make that your slate.
Then just when you're used to the graveyard shift and catching up on all the sleep you can.
Four days off; reverse your days for four, then start the whole thing over again.
Back in the days before tillers came along, and powdermakers ruled the hill
And blades were new, planers obsolete, and twenty-one hundreds filled the bill.
Grooming uphill you'd never think to do; you'd have to climb the long way around.
Halfway up the run you'd stop and set the brake, and shovel snow to cool the rear end down.
Then tillers came along, and skiers wanted more, more than just a cat to make it flat
Driving in a blizzard six hundred miles or more; a groomer's night is more or less like that.
Those were the days of yore, Buffalo Ridge before I took the D8 cat and cut it back
It used to fall away, to the north the ridge would lay and snocats found it hard to stay on track.
The night before the race, the course was set up hard. It snowed all day, the powder two feet deep.
They had to have it tilled, the Pisten Bully tried, barely hanging on, the ridge too steep.
Down the Granite Bowl, three-sixties all the way; the course was scraped, and Audrey's eyes were wide.
The Yodel Inn was warm and folks were feeling good, the snow too deep to till, you know I tried.

A Background of Blue
©2002 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
In the mountains of North Carolina, in the winter of '49,
Eddy Merle Watson was born under weather unusually fine.
The weather stayed warm and smiled on the newborn, hinting at things to come.
But Merle learned early where the blues came from and what it takes to overcome.
Polio struck him at six, for two months paralyzed from the waist down.
But the gift of a bike from a friend of Doc's helped him with his limp and got him up and around.
For the rest of his life, he was often in pain, but he never let it hold him down.
His spirit and his music overcame the pain; music far and wide renowned.
Refrain
Like the tinkle of chimes in a gentle wind, the bubble of a small waterfall,
The gurgle of a brook and the patter of raindrops, the Wood Thrush singing his call;
Merle picked a song and the notes washed over you, delicate, gentle, and true.
His harmony with Doc like a rainbow of colour, seamless on a background of blue.
Only months after learning his first chords, Merle joined Doc on the road.
Twelve thousand people heard him play for the first time; fifteen years old.
Later that year they recorded their first LP “Doc Watson and Son”.
Four million miles on the road was the price for the Grammies they won.
They played at concert halls in the cities and kraals in the African veld.
Each a master, together unique for the way their guitars would meld.
In 1985 Merle won “Best Finger-Picker of the Year”,
But he never knew; before he heard his death brought an end to a stellar career.
It was late October in the middle of the night and Merle lay awake in his bed.
He went to the basement to trim some panelling and try and clear his head.
The saw blade jammed and a splinter kicked back and embedded itself in his arm.
He knew he needed help so he fired up the tractor and headed for the next farm.
The first three neighbours all knew him well but no door opened until,
Weak and cold, he found a house where a light was on at the top of a hill
But the splinter was huge and the folks where afraid to try and take it out they claimed.
So Merle said “I'll do it myself. Can you give me a knife and something for pain?”
All they had was wine, so he sterilized the knife in the wine then drank.
He grabbed the knife and he dug for the wood, but the wood felt big as a plank.
He got it out and they bandaged the wound; he was weak and he left in shock.
He got on the tractor and drove away, but going down the hill the tractor brakes locked.
The tractor slid off the driveway and rolled down the bank and Merle was thrown.
When everything came to rest, he was under the tractor; he'd died alone.
From the pain in his hip to the pain in his heart for his loss when his marriage was through,
His life was a tapestry of bright shining lights always grounded on a background of blue.

Joe Moris
©2001 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
In the spring of 1890 Joe Moris hired on to do some assessment work on the Lily May
Joe and Oliver Bordeau left Colville by sleigh; at the Little Dalles they hired a boat and crew.
They went on up the Columbia River, disembarked at Trail Landing, the snow too deep for horse to haul supplies.
Over 5 feet of snow they packed their gear, only travelling in the mornings. The Dewdney Trail took them right to the Lily May.
Assessment work was almost done when bare ground first apeared on the south side of Red Mountain; the colour caught Joe's eye.
Oliver Bordeaux had no money, said he'd pay Joe when they got to Nelson.
Joe said "That's okay, I need supplies."
At noon on the 18th day of April assessment work was done. Joe went to have a closer look at Red.
On the way he found a cropping, located the Homestake claim; never made it all the way to Red.
They went to Nelson, but still no pay for Joe he went to work at the Silver King; 17 1/2 shifts; he bought supplies started downriver.
At Trail Creek the weather was too bad to prospect so he went to work on the Homestake and waited for the weather to clear.
Along came Joe Bourgeous and said: "Abandon that claim and come with me. I've found some good prospects up on Red.
They located the Centre Star and the Idaho, the War Eagle and the Virginia.
They staked the Centre Star extension and called it Le Wise.
They went to Nelson, their samples assayed; the best at 3.25 a ton. Bourgeous said: "Well that's not worth the price."
Moris said: "We'd better record, go back and find some better ore." Bourgeous said: "Okay, but I won't pay."
They went to Topping to record their claims, said: "We've got 5, we can only keep 4. If you pay them all we'll give you one."
For $12.50 Topping bought the Centre Star extension. He went, had a look, said: "I'll keep it!" and called it Le Roi.
As time went on they all sold their claims. Centre Star, War Eagle, and Le Roi became household words in the mining world.
Trail Creek grew into Rossland; 7000 people at the height of the boom; from the Rossland Stock Exchange grew the TSE.

Wolfsong...Nanuk in the Field of Dreams
©2001 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
The moon was full and the snow was deep up on Record Ridge.
Nanuk and I were grabbing some turns at the top of the Field of Dreams.
The night was brite and the sky was clear, my headlamp mostly unused.
The snowpack was bulletproof, powder on top, no surprises in store.
Turns were easy, nothing unexpected; the powder settled down.
No tracks in and no tracks out; we had the place to ourselves.
Refrain
Nanuk sang a song at the moon with her chin pointed straight up into the sky.
Our tracks made dollar signs deep in the snow right down the Field of Dreams.
Right down to Record Creek just above the meadow; it was too good to leave alone.
We climbed back up to our camp to the rhythm of the swish of the skins on the snow.
We were ready to call it a night by the time we got to the top of the ridge.
A hot cup of tea and a cookie for Nanuk and then we were ready for bed.
Our snowcave was warm and we settled down snug; we dreamt we were still making turns.
Nanuk kept running and singing in her sleep 'til finally I shut down too.

Letters From Irene
©1990 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
I promised you a letter, but somewhere along the way it became a song,
and things that I never got said found a place to be heard.
You came so suddenly into my life, you took me by surprise,
but somehow it felt like an expectation fulfilled.
I know you're a long ways away but I'm having a hard time trying to find
any other reason not to see how far we can go.
When you went away a little part of me stowed away and went with you.
Funny how willingly it went and how I let it go.
What it left wasn't empty, it was more of a little warm spot some where in there;
an abstract vision becoming clearly defined.
I find myself remembering conversations I had with you.
Instead of having new ones with someone else I want letters from you.
So when the stars shine take a moment to look and pick a bright one from the west,
and chances are that I'm looking up at the same one as you.
And I hope that one day soon I'll be singing this to you and I'll hear your voice again,
but for now I'm always looking forward to letters from you.
For now I'm always looking forward to letters from you.

The Flying Steamshovel
©1989 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Here's a tale of derring-do from 1902.
An engineman whose name was Lou, well he had a dream and flew.
Lou was pulling a crack train out of Spokane that year.
With his clothes and his manners he was out of place at Mrs L'Equer's.
Lou went to work at the Nickle Plate Mine and there he got his chance.
A shop and a dream was the winter's scene in Rossland that year.
And everyone wished he'd blown himself up that February night;
He'd been such a pest they needed a rest but he paid them no mind.
On a winter's day in nineteen-two he made his dream come true.
The townsfolk came at a run and watched to see what he would do.
Lou built himself a head of steam, the rotor began to turn.
Then he turned a valve and the pushprop spun to the wonder of everyone.
Engineer Red and his fireman watched as Lou climbed aboard.
The downdraft blew and the road was swept and Lou was all alone.
Up he flew 'til he cleared the hotel, then he realized the flaw;
The one-lunger stopped on top dead center, he corkscrewed into the road.
Red and his fireman dragged him from the wreck; the helicopter dream was done.
Lou went East with a road show; he was handy with a song.
For 22 years not a word was heard just a legend from the early days,
When word came back of a locomotive foreman retired in an eastern yard.
And that is the story of the day that Lou and his steamshovel flew.
He followed his dream tho a broken man was all he had to show.
He picked himself up, kept his feet on the ground; but in his mind he knew
That for one brief moment he rose up high and he made his dream come true.

The Jeldness Tea Party
©2001 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Olaus Jeldness came to Rossland in 1896.
The son of Norway brought his skis and a way of life was born.
In 1900 Rossland held the first Dominion Championships.
Jeldness won two gold medals for ski running and ski jumping.
Jeldness invited 25 guests to the top of Red for a feast.
He cooked up a banquet; his guests fought their way through the deep snow right to the top.
The feast was royal and they washed it down with large amounts of Jeldness Tea.
All of the guests got too drunk to walk so he sent them all down on skis in the dark.

Father Pat
©2001 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
Father Pat was born Henry Irwin in Ireland in 1859.
A boxing championship and degree at Oxford; he became an Anglican priest.
His boyhood dream to be a missionary was realized in 1885.
He went to Kamloops to assist Vicar Horlock and there he met Francis, the love of his life.
Every 6 weeks he rode 1200 miles to the mining camps and preached where he could.
It was during that time that he first came to Rossland and became the miner's friend.
In 1887 he transferred to Donald, a busy railroad town in the Selkirks.
His circut was long it went down the Columbia and on down the Arrow Lakes,
Up the Kootenay to Nelson then Cranbrook, Golden then back to Donald.
In '89 he went to New Westminister, assistant to Bishop Sillitoe.
In January 1890 he and Francis were married.
Ten months later she died in childbirth and took their baby with her.
Refrain
And he never forgot her love; she was always in the back of his mind.
He threw himself into God's work but he never got over her death.
And the rest of his life he drove himself hard with never a thought for himself,
But his greatest desire was to finish his life and be with his true love again.
He stayed with Bishop Sillitoe and his wife until 1894.
His father got sick; he returned to Ireland and stayed 'til '96.
During that time both his father and the Bishop passed away, but Father Pat endured.
He asked to be transferred to Rossland; they appointed him Mission Priest in '96.
He found his true calling with the miners and prospectors; they said he'd recorded his claim in heaven.
His door was always open and more often than not he gave up his bed to someone needy or sick.
His services were held in bar rooms as often as in churches; he'd walk to Grand Forks in a day.
He once left his bishop standing in the street while he joined some miners in the bar.
His parishioners resolved to replace his green and threadbare coat, and got him something warm to wear.
A few days later the green one was back, the new one warming someone else.
One day while riding his circuit on his old horse, Tom, he was harassed by three newcomers.
As he revived the two he put down, he preached on the evils of hooliganism.
He layed out the crosscountry snowshoe races, carried sick miners from the mountains into town.
By 1900 Rossland got too civilized; he went to a post in the Okanagan.
In December, nineteen-one, worn out and needing a rest,
He boarded a train heading east, on his way home to Ireland.
A few miles from Montreal he left the train and decided to walk.
The next morning a farmer found him, feet frozen walking on the ice.
They took him to the hospital, Notre Dame; he smiled at the pain, wouldn't give his name.
The doctors and the sisters, his last congregation, watched him bear his pain with patience and grace.
On the 13th of January, nineteen-two, his journey finally came to an end.
He was taken back to New Westminister and buried in the same grave as Francis.
And he never forgot her love; she was always in the back of his mind.
He threw himself into God's work but he never got over her death.

Here's a photo of Seth with the St. Louis Blues facing Frank Mahovlich
Seth's Stats
Born 4 May 1933 - Rossland, BC, Canada
1950 - 1953 * Lethbridge Native Sons * League - WCJHL
1953 * Kelowna Packers * League - WIHL * 3 games
1953 - 1963 * Trail Smoke Eaters * League - WIHL
1959 - 1960 * Vancouver Canucks * League - WHL * 1 game
Spokane Comets * League - WHL * 2 games
1960 * Trail Smoke Eaters * Allan Cup finals - lost to Chatham Maroons
1961 * Trail Smoke Eaters * IIHF World Championship * Gold Medal winners
* Seth voted Best Goalkeeper and All Star Team
1961 - 1962 * Portland Buckaroos * League - WHL * 1 game
1962 * Trail Smoke Eaters * Allan Cup winners
1963 * Trail Smoke Eaters * IIHF World Championship * placed 4th * Seth voted Best Goalkeeper
1964 - 1967 * Rossland Warriors * League - WIHL
1964 * Canadian National Team * IIHF World Championship * Bronze Medal winners *
Seth voted Best Goalkeeper and All Star Team
1965 * Nelson Maple Leafs * Allan Cup finals * lost to Sherbrooke
1966 * Canadian National Team * IIHF World Championship * Bronze Medal winners *
Seth voted Best Goalkeeper and All Star Team
1967 * Canadian National Team * IIHF World Championship * Bronze Medal winners
1967 - 1968 * St. Louis Blues * League - NHL * 32 games * lost in Stanley Cup finals *
Seth had 2.59 goals against average with 1 shutout and scored 1 assist
1968 - 1969 * Trail Smoke Eaters * League - WIHL * coached
1969 - 1970 * Spokane Jets * League - WIHL * 24 games * Allan Cup winners (1st
American team ever to do so)
1971 - 1973 * Trail Smoke Eaters * League - WIHL
1972 - 1973 * Portland Buckaroos * League - WHL
1973 - 1978 * Cominco Firemen Team
1983 * Trail Smoke Eaters * League - WIHL * coached
1997 * Seth inducted into International Ice Hockey Federation Hall of Fame

The Killing of Mah Lin
©2002 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
The twentieth century had barely begun when a young man came to town.
He came with his dreams from the White Cloud Mountains of China, northeast of Guangzhou.
His name was Mah Lin and his age nineteen. He found Rossland akin to his home.
He thought he'd stay and seek fortune awhile; he had no desire to roam.
In the middle of May, Mary Chenoweth hired Mah Lin as a cook.
Breakfast at five and dinner at six, he worked as long as it took
To light the fire and cook the meals and clean up the kitchen he'd stay;
He was happy to have the work, sixteen dollars a month was his pay.
Refrain
Mah Lin was only a young man from China, far from home and alone.
Who would have thought he was destined to die so young, no fault of his own?
What culture would create such indifference to the value of life,or hate inflame,
That even in trying to solve the crime the point of it all was the blame?
On May twenty third at half past four, Lin came for the evening meal.
Eight year old Ernest was home, but the cause of what followed he'd never reveal.
He was out in the yard playing house with some dishes when Mah Lin arrived to prepare.
His story was told and confirmed by others - by five he was playing elsewhere.
In any event at half past five Lin was found shot in the head.
The blame should be laid at the door of the Chinese Tongs at first it was said.
But right from the start Chief Ingram believed that Ernest Chenoweth was the one.
He called Mary a harlot and her sons hard cases, but no indictment he won.
Now Ingram was run out of Calgary and Winnipeg for running with girls of the night.
You can't help but wonder if Mary had spurned him and coloured his reason with spite.
Whatever his reasons he was probably right in assessing the blame for the crime.
In spite of the prejudice against the Chinese, no blame could be found at the time.
Now some said Ernest was simple and what he was told could be made to admit.
Others said that his endless chatter was proof of his knowledge and wit.
A man from Pinkerton's came from Seattle to try and shed some light.
And after two days of poking around he decided that Ingram was right.
They arrested Ernest and Pinkerton's got a confession of guilt from the lad.
But the Judge cried “Foul” and said that the jury would never hear what he had said.
They took him to jail in Nelson for trial, half a day's journey by rail,
And Mary went daily for two and a half months; she couldn't afford the bail.
The Deputy Attorney-General himself came to prosecute the case and to plead.
But the jury acquitted without deliberation and Ernest Chenoweth was freed.
He remains to this day the youngest in Canada tried for a capital crime.
Was he evil or just a young boy who put action to the voice of his time?
Whale of a Tale
In 1900 an eight year old Rossland boy was tried for murdering a Chinese cook who was working at their home. His name was
Ernest Chenoweth and he lived with his mother Mary and two half brothers, Roy Stephens (19 years old) and Merton Stephens (17 years old)
in a small shack on 3rd Ave., located very close to where the Gresley-Jones family home was built about 1905 and still stands.
There was a tiny kitchen (about 7 feet by 9 feet), a dining room, a parlour where Mary slept and a bedroom where the three boys slept.
Mary also had another son, Hugh Stephens (about 14 years old), who was not living at home. I've never been able to find
out when they first came to Rossland, but her second husband, Mr. Chenoweth, left Rossland in the spring of 1899, abandoning
Mary and the boys. They moved into the shack on 3rd Ave. in August of 1899. Roy and Merton were working in the mines. On either the
14th or the 21st of May, 1900 Mary hired Mah Lin (who had been in Rossland since about New Years) to cook breakfasts and suppers
for $16 a month.
On the 23rd of May, Mah Lin came to cook the evening meal. According to Ernest's own words
he was "playing house with a tin pan, two cups, and some broken dishes" in the yard when Mah Lin came at about 4:30. At about
5:30 Mah Lin was discovered dead of a gunshot to the head. The inquest concluded he was shot by "person unknown", but Jack Ingram,
the Rossland Chief of Police wouldn't leave it alone. Now Jack seems to have had something against Mary and her boys. He was
quoted as saying that Mary "is no better than a prostitute and her 3 sons are very tough boys.", an odd comment considering
Jack's questionable past. In
any case he had Ernest pegged for it right from the start. The Chinese Benevolent Society was very interested
in solving the case after the early public sentiment blaming the Chinese for the crime. Ingram advised them to hire Pinkerton's,
which they did. So a Mr. Ahern from Pinkerton's came and after a couple of days decided that Ingram was right. On Sunday, 22 July,
he and Mr. Raymer ( of the Rossland police force) went to the Allan Hotel were Mary worked and talked her into letting them
take Ernest to the basement for " no
more than half an hour" to interogate him. After 4 hours, during which time Mary was not allowed to see him, Mr Ahern obtained a
confession and Ernest was arrested. Mr. Raymer was never actually present when Ernest confessed. He only was present at the end
when Mr. Ahern dictated a confession and Ernest agreed with it.
Ernest Chenoweth's Confession:
" I was watching chickens for Mrs. Wright a little after four o'clock on May 23. I remember it was the day before the
Queen's birthday. I saw Mah Lin, the Chinaman employed by my mother as cook enter the kitchen by the back door.
I went in by the same door shortly afterwards and he was slicing potatoes. I said to Mah Lin, ' I killem you,' meaning I
kill you. I left the kitchen and passed through the front room and into the bedroom and got over the bed which was in the
southwest corner of the room, and took a 32-calibre Remington rifle which belonged to my brother Roy, which was standing in
the corner of the room at the back of the bed, and left the bedroom and passed into the front room. Before going into the
front room and while I was on the bed I raised the trigger and snapped it, then I went towards the Chinaman Mah Lin.
I said, as I raised the gun and aimed at him: 'Now here you go John." I then pulled the trigger. I was standing near
the door of the kitchen. He smiled as I said " Here you go." He had a dish of beans in his hand. I pulled the trigger
and he fell towards me, his head towards the front room door. He kicked around, and there was blood running from his
mouth and nose. He did not speak, but made a gurgling sound. Then I put the gun back where I found it, and then went
to the kitchen and said: " Did I kill you, John; did I kill you?" I then ran out the back kitchen door and went down
towards the depot, and met Johnnie Perry there at the depot. I then went down Lincoln street, and met my mother and
Mrs. King coming up from town. I did not tell her I killed Mah Lin, but I killed him. I didn't want to tell her for
fear she would whip me. I told my mother about it before the inquest in court. She told me not to say anything about it.
She was the only person I told of having killed him. I put the gun back in the corner again after I shot him. I was
standing in the dining room when I shot him.
QUESTION: Was you much scared when you shot him?
ANSWER: No, not much. I was glad one Chinaman was out of the way. I was afraid of the Chinaman for fear
they would kill me. That was the reason I didn't tell the truth at the investigation. He smiled when I pointed the gun at him,
but the smile left his face mighty quick when I shot him.
Acknowledged before me on July 22, 1900.
(Signed) Edward Bowes (Coroner)
(Signed) Ernest Chenoweth
(Signed) F. E. French (Signed) Dan McDougall (witnesses)
**********
In August they took Ernest to jail in Nelson to await trial in late October. Mary went on the
train every day to visit him. The train would leave early in the morning and return in the evening, about 12 hours later.
The trial became very political, with the provincial government courting the Chinese vote at the coast for the upcoming
election. The Deputy Attorney-General himself came up to prosecute the case. The confession was never heard in court since it
had been obtained under some measure a duress and an assurance by Mr. Ahern to Ernest that he would never be prosecuted for it.
Also the defence was never given the opportunity to cross examine Mr. Ahern since he was never brought back for the trial (and
since he was the only one who actually witnessed the original confession). The jury did hear from some city workers who
Ernest had bragged to about the killing, saying "I never saw a son-of-a-bitch die as quick as the Chinaman".
In any case the jury put their heads together for a few minutes wihout leaving the jury
box and acquitted Ernest. He remains to this day the youngest person in Canada ever to stand trial for a capital crime.
I don't know how long Ernest remained in Rossland, but by 1925 he was registered in Chico,
Shasta County, California as a member of the Socialist Party. Roy Stephens was the last relative of Ernest's living in Rossland.
Alfie still has a postcard that Roy and Margaret sent him on one of their visits to Chico.

Jimmy Fuller
©2001 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
In 1881 a British captain of the sea married a
southern belle, a banker's daughter from Mobile, Alabama.
James Maybrick was 42; Florence Chandler, Bunny to her friends,
only 18, but a bride with a new life in England.
In 1882 came a son named James, but they called him Bobo.
The father left the sea and became a Liverpool cottonbroker.
The spring of 1889 brought trouble to the Maybrick house;
James had a mistress and Bunny met a lover at the Flatman's Hotel in London
The family doctor Fuller brought them back to each other but
James took ill after years of taking arsenic and strychnine his doctor prescribed;
but often on his own as many testified.
Alice Yapp, the housemaid came across some flypaper soaking in some water;
Bunny was extracting arsenic to make a face lotion.
Alice was meddlesome and she got suspicious, she thought that Bunny was poisoning her husband.
Edwin and Michael, brothers of James came to see for themselves.
The next afternoon Bunny gave Alice a letter to post, addressed to Mr. Brierly,
her lover from London; Bunny never knew suspicions were mounting.
Alice set off to post the letter with young Jimmy carrying the mail,
but he dropped Bunny's letter in the mud;
that was the excuse Alice needed to justify opening the letter.
Four days later James was dead and Bunny was sentenced to hang, but after a
public outcry in England and America her sentence was commuted to life imprisonment.
Young Jimmy went to live in London with his uncle Michael, but somewhere along the way
he took the name of Fuller, the family doctor.
Many years later a diary was found in which Maybrick claimed to be Jack the Ripper,
but in the end the diary turned out to be a hoax.
In nineteen-and-four Bunny was set free and went to America, while Jimmy came to Rossland
and worked as an assayer and surveyor at Le Roi Mine.
On the 10th of April, 1911, Jimmy Fuller was the Chief Assayer,
and engaged to be married to Marion Martin, and well liked by everyone.
About 2 pm he was working in his office having missed his lunch when he stopped for a sandwich
in the middle of a test. On his desk were three beakers, two with cyanide and one with water.
Fred Peters, the foreman of the mine, got a call from Jimmy in distress.
They found him on the steps to his office, dead of cyanide poisoning.
On his hand he still wore an asbestos mitt and a pair of metal tongs lay beside him on the steps;
on his desk half a sandwich and a tipped over beaker of cyanide.
Poor Jimmy Fuller he was such a bright light, but he couldn't escape the darkness of his past;
he dropped his mother's letter, helped send her to prison, and he drank from the wrong beaker, ending his own life.
Whale of a Tale
The lyric above pretty much tells the story except to say that it's unlikely Bunny poisoned her husband. There was
testimony given at the trial that James was taking much more arsenic and strychnine than his doctor was prescribing.
There was also testimony given that it was impossible to extract enough arsenic from flypaper to kill a man. It seems
that Alice Yapp's meddling stirred up a hornet's nest. It's my belief that the phrase "to shut your yap" or to "be yappy"
came from this story. I have no real evidence to support this, but it was such a huge story at the time in Europe and
North America that it seems like too much of a coincidence not to be the case.
As for the Jack the Ripper connection, all the suspects have their supporters, and those
that support James as being the one say that his diary has never been proven to be a hoax.
And as for Jimmy Fuller, it seems he came full circle from his father's fate to
his own.
A Gentle Soul
©2003 Wayne Krewski (SOCAN) All rights reserved.
His father came to Rossland in ninety eight to run West Kootenay Power and Light;
A pioneer in the field of power generation; a young man keen and bright.
His mother taught school in her younger days and gave Jack a good start.
And somewhere in that mix of McDonald blood, Jack became a man of good heart.
During his years at UBC he commuted on a Harley back and forth.
And once he rode for the King and Queen of England as a motorcycle escort.
Working as an usher in the Orpheum Theater, he played the grand old organ late at night.
He got his degree in Electric Engineering and returned to West Kooteney Power and Light.
Refrain
He was a gentle soul, and he lived his life in the company of dignity and grace.
She had a joyful glow and her love for life was a quality he embraced.
They delighted in each other, and the years never took away the joy in each other they shared.
Their love was forever, through the better and the worse, and from both of these neither was spared.
In forty two he married Berva and three months later went to sea.
They packed up all their things and moved to Ottawa; they did their part to stay free.
From Canada's coast to the north Atlantic, looking for German submarines
Jack took his training, then a Navy job in Ottawa; they remained serene.
His parents got sick and were sent to Vancouver and both found themselves in need.
So the Navy moved Jack and Berva to the west coast in August of fourty three.
Forty four was a year of sorrow and anguish for Berva and Jack.
Their son died at birth and Jack's father passed away; it was a hard road back.
Now Berva was an athlete and skiing with Jack was a passion she held dear.
Mount Baker was home for many a weekend; they were happy when the other was near.
After the war, Jack went to work for Dominion Bridge for a spell,
But in forty eight Jack's mother passed on and they needed a change of locale.
Berva's arthritis became severe, so they came back to Rossland to stay.
Jack went to work for Cominco, with Berva the joy of his day.
The years went by and Berva became more and more needy of care.
And Jack came home at noon every day and made lunch for Berva to share.
In seventy nine Berva passed away and left Jack with memories so dear.
For twenty three years Berva stayed with him daily in memories so clear.
He retired from Cominco and made new friends; he hadn't had any in years.
Berva had given him all he needed, he'd lost touch with all his peers.
He travelled the world and published a number of works of historical cast.
He left us a record on audio tape of voices from Rossland's past.
Now Jack is gone and missed but if there's a heaven we know
That he's sitting back at Berva's side, which is just where he wanted to go.
Whale of a Tale
That's Jack McDonald in the photo at the console of the Wurlitzer pipe organ at Vancouver's Orpheum Theatre in 1935, while he was
getting his degree at UBC. The organ music at the end of the song was recorded in 1948 at the Capitol Theatre (Jack actually
worked evenings during his university years for Famous Players who owned both theatres) by Don Hings (who holds the patent on the walkie-talkie). It was
Christmas time and Jack and Don were alone in the theatre. Having played both organs for years, Jack considered the Capitol
installation superior. The consoles were identical but in the Orpheum, because of the elaborate ceiling the pipes were installed
in the walls. In the Capitol, on the other hand, they were installed in the ceiling, which gave it a much better sound. The
Orpheum of course was extensively renovated and preserved at some point. The Capitol is gone but it's organ was still living in
a basement in Burnaby.
The dialogue at the beginning of the song is a converstaion between Jack and Berva, recorded
in 1964. They had just got their first Channel Master tape recorder and were playing around with it before starting on their
quest of preserving folks' voices and stories for posterity.
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