Calgary

July 5, 2015

Today we reluctantly left Bonner’s Ferry and headed for Alberta.  Our border crossing was interesting.  I can think of few less-likely criminals than the four of us but we were told to pull over and our luggage was removed and inspected while we waited inside the building.  Our four innocent and beautiful apples were confiscated.  My cousin Lydia and her husband had crossed a few hours earlier and lost their apples as well.  Maybe there’s an applesauce cannery behind the grey walls of the cold customs building.  The officers, while polite, were lacking in any displays of good humor.

Relieved to finally be waved on through we spent another day traveling majestic landscapes that defy description, pulling into Calgary by late afternoon.  We met up with Lydia and John and the six of us went downtown which we’d heard was the place to be for dinner.  We ate at James Joyce Irish Pub.  It was unique and museum quality in its memorabilia, much of it Guinness related.  

We learned about the Guinness family from John who has spent some time in Ireland.  It seems there was a woman whose husband was in a duel in which both men died.  Left a widow with two children and disowned by her husband’s family she was contemplating suicide.  She was ready to leap from a bridge to her death when a poor ploughboy passed by cheerfully whistling as he went.  Ploughboys were at the very bottom of the social ladder and the woman was amazed that someone so disadvantaged could be so happy.  “If a man in that lowly state can be happy, how can I be so distraught and ready to give up?”  she thought. She decided to live.

Eventually the woman married a man from the wealthy Guinness beer family.  One day she was visiting a church when the congregation sang the song that the poor ploughboy had whistled.  It changed her and she became a woman of kindness and prayer.  The great potato famine had hit Ireland and the woman persuaded the Guinness family to use their wealth to feed thousands.  In her line of descendants, through her influence and prayers there came numerous men of God who changed the lives of future generations.  Many Irish lives were saved through the Guinness family’s generosity and compassion during the famine.  All because a young man living in poverty was filled with joy in the midst of his meager circumstances, whistling while totally unaware anyone was listening.  It made us all reflect a bit, it did.  I should add that I wrote the story as best my questionable memory can recall and cannot vouch for its accuracy.  For anyone interested see A Guinness with a Difference: The Story of the Whistling Ploughboy of Ecclefechan by Derick Bingham

The next day we met for breakfast and made our plans.  Some of us went to the Calgary Stampede bull-riding events and some of us (Barbara and I) hung out at the hotel until late afternoon. 

We eventually walked to the train station and met the others at the Calgary Tower for dinner at the revolving restaurant high above the city.  Fun.  Pricey, but fun.  And the food was good too. 

After dinner we all took the train to the Stampede where we had tickets for the evening show.  Chuck wagon races started things off.  After two hours of watching horses and wagons careening around a half-mile track at speeds reaching forty mph a big John Deere tractor pulled a huge stage across the track and in fifteen minutes it was ready for the performers.  What followed left us all amazed. Another two hours, this time filled with singing, dancing, acrobatics, and stunts, and ending with an incredible fireworks display.  The tickets that had seemed so expensive before we arrived seemed much less so by the time the show was over.  A chilly rain fell throughout the evening but the show went on without a hitch.  Fortunately our section of seats were under the overhang and we stayed cozy and dry.  

To say we were impressed was an understatement.  I saw a side of Canada I had never seen before and a people proud of their country and their heritage.