Friday, March 11, 2016

Horse traders

Although the appellation "horse trader" often carries a negative connotation, no Fraser would consider it a slight. At least four of the six Fraser brothers - Will, John, Gordon, and Pete - were horse traders. And trainers. And drivers. And showmen. And farmers. Dad wrote in his 2003 history that "horses were important to the Frasers" and this posting is his.

The talk with visitors was always about horses, often race horses. Will and John Fraser both raced in the east, and Pete and Gordon Fraser owned race horses out west.

Will Fraser with an unknown racehorse. Harness racing allowed the Frasers to drive for many more years than thoroughbred jockeys could.

John Fraser's horse, Black Patch, Ridgetown, Ontario

Will Fraser tears up the track with Billy Hugo, 1934

Will Fraser trained many fine racehorses, including Blue Again. "Blue" won the $50,000 Santa Anita Handicap in California. That was a princely sum in the mid-1940s!

Will Fraser with another fine specimen.

Unlike his brothers, Pete Fraser preferred large draft horses, and was known for his prized Percherons.

Pete Fraser had a purebred Percheron stallion named Julius. He took Julius to the Royal Winter Fair in Toronto in 1928. Jack Wallace, then a boy, went with him. 


"Down Memory Lane" column in the Pilot Mound Sentinel Courier, Nov. 29, 1988, recounted Pete's award for his Percheron "Julius" at the Toronto Royal Fair in 1928.

Murray and Pete display ribbons won by their Percherons.

We also had a standard bred stallion named Graham Worthy (harness race horse stock), circa 1928. I made a garage for my Road King bicycle from the crate Graham Worthy came in.

Not every horse in the Fraser stable was a mighty Percheron or a speedy race horse, as young Murray Fraser shows.

Julius was travelled around the country by Jack Tole. When Jack broke a leg, circa 1928, he was cared for in our downstairs bedroom.

Jack was from Crystal City, the town south of Pilot Mound, and was proud of it. Hired hand Mr. Handford told Jack, "Crystal City is better laid out than Pilot Mound." Jack beamed until Handford added, "because it's been dead longer."

Pete Fraser (left) with Dougal Graham, the funeral director. Pete drove the classy glass hearse for Dougal for many years, with two black Percherons with net blankets for show. Schoolmate Honor Graham told Dad that Pete upset and smashed the glass hearse. Myra Fraser (Dad's cousin and Gordon Fraser's daughter) told Dad, "No, Dougal got his own horses, and he upset the glass hearse!"

Percherons in funeral finery tower over other horses.

Prairie Prince replaced Julius circa 1936. This Percheron would get bound up (constipated) standing in a box stall at the back of the cow barn (not Julius' quarters). The treatment was the bazooka, a funnel approximately 10" in diameter inserted into about three feet of heater hose. The hose was inserted into the appropriate orifice, and a half pail of water, dipped from the water trough, was poured down the funnel. The result was fast, fast relief.

One summer, 1939, Tom Gorrell ran out of gas opposite Frasers'. Tom was a very abrupt, nervous man. He asked, "Have you got any gas?"

I said, "The can is here, but it's empty."

Tom said, "There's gas in the car!" The bazooka was serendipitously hanging on the wall beside the car. Tom grabbed the hose, stuck one end in the '29 Plymouth' gas tank, and sucked on the other end to siphon gas into the can. It seemed too late to tell him what the hose was used for.

Lulu Bond

Pete was reported to have won a race horse, Lulu Bond, in a raffle. He had purchased a ticket, but hadn't won the draw. He actually bought the standard bred mare from the winner. The idiots who had tried to train her had tied a rope to her front leg and would trip her, afraid she might run away. Naturally, Lulu was a trembling, nervous wreck. Dad hitched her, tied back between two big Percherons, in a four-horse abreast team. She soon calmed down and pulled her weight. Pete may have hoped she might race, but that didn't happen.

Graham Worthy, in front of (Thomas) Gordon Fraser's livery barn (which he bought in 1929), Railway Avenue, Pilot Mound. Patrons paid maybe 25¢ to have a team of horses stabled for an afternoon's shopping trip into town.

One time Graham Worthy got untied from his stall and got in with Prairie Prince. There was a hell of a ruckus. I went over the manger alongside with a pitchfork and prodded Graham back to his own stall.

Graham got loose another time and chewed the back of a cow. Too much testosterone, I guess.

John Kelly drove Graham at stud around the country.

Jess

A colt from a Percheron mare became a utility horse that could do field work, and lively enough to drive to town with a buggy or cutter.


The view's not great, but it got you to town.

Pete Fraser had some 20 head of horses into the '30s and '40s. Mosquitoes plagued man and beast alike, so he often made a smudge, a smoky fire. The horses and cows would stand in the smoke, which the mosquitoes and flies didn't like.

Pete was proud of being able to plough a straight furrow, and had the awards to prove it!  This story made the front page of The Pilot Mound Sentinel, June 25, 1925.

 From the front page of the Pilot Mound Sentinel, June 25, 1925

Pete and his four-horse team of Percherons

Pete driving a furrow straight and true.

A score card from 1923. Pete noted his wins on the back of the card: "Special Best four-horse outfit $5.00. Best finish four-horse outfit $5.00."

On winter days horses would be let out of the barn and would go to eat a straw stack in the East 40 acres. One day one of a team stood away from the feeding side of the straw stack. The message was clear: We need help here! Her teammate had got down and couldn't get up. We went down with a team and a rack, tied a chain to the downed mare's leg and pulled her to better footing so she could get up.

Pete dwarfed by his Percheron team in their show harness. These horses are typically over 6 feet high at the shoulder, and weigh about 2000 pounds.

Pete with Belle

In the early 1900s there was a neighbour to the west of Frasers' farm whose last name was Mead. He was not a licensed veterinarian, but had apprenticed in England and was better qualified than some with degrees. Sometimes he was called for help. He said, "In Canada it's horses first and last, but in England it's man first and man last. I'll be over when I've finished my breakfast."

One diagnosis: "It's the liver. When the liver stops, everything stops."

Pete with Bill

Uncle Gordon had a horse medicine called Dr. Bell's Veterinary Medical Wonder. A teaspoon would cure a horse -- powerful stuff! Uncle Gordon had some other horse medicine that his son Doug called "stink balls." Rotten kid -- stomping one made a great stink!

Uncle Gordon (right) with son Gordie and Harvest Pilot, 1957

Pete's younger brother Gordon was a lifelong harness race trainer and driver who travelled all across North America with his horses. Dad once said that Gordon might have won more races if he hadn't been so reluctant to use the whip.

A horse named Billy Democracy was one of Gordon's best winners. Dad and his sister Jessie drove "Old Bill" to school in the '30s. He was a pacer and wore hobbles when racing. Pacers had a wobble gait, in which the left (or right) pair of legs moved in unison.

Billy Democracy was lazy. He would not waste energy. There was no starting gate in his era. The starter would ring a bell if the pole horse was not in the lead and all would have to go back and start again. Nervous horses would be up and around the first turn before the drivers could get them reversed. When they again turned toward the start line, Bill was revved up -- he once took the tires off the cart doing a fast U-turn.

The horse wouldn't go a bit faster than needed, but any other horse would have to go some to pass him. For all his laziness he was a keen competitor. He would not eat his oats the day of his race, but how could he know?

Dougal McColly with Minnie Duff

Murray rides a Percheron, ca. 1938, with Pete on the scuffler, cultivating or hilling potatoes. Bill and Net were the chore team of dappled grey Percherons.

Pete Fraser owned horses even after he had motorized vehicles on the farm. You might say they were an expensive hobby. The passion was not shared by son Murray. If Dad had been interested in horses, he would have built one out of aluminum.

A chip off the old block. Two-year-old Wally Fraser in 1953, looking right at home astride what is likely a Percheron. Mom's note on the back reads "Horses were plowing the garden that day."

The Percheron Breed
(See more at Wikipedia)

A recent Supreme Champion Percheron, standing tall and proud.

Clare Geddes would probably call the Percheron the Charolais of horses. Bigger than other breeds, you might call them high and mighty.

The draft horse originated in the former Perche province of western France, where they were present by the 17th century. Earlier origins are unknown. They are known for their strength, intelligence and willingness to work. Percherons are typically gray or black in colour, still preferred by breeders today.

The breed was originally developed as a war horse. Their strength and gentle nature made them ideal for all kinds of hauling and agricultural chores. Percherons were used to pull stage coaches. Gray horses were preferred because they were more visible at night. French knights favoured the breed. Sadly, their musculature also meant they were bred in France for their meat.

There was a market for this breed in the U.S., as war horses during the Civil War in the 1860s, and for general draft and agricultural work. Approximately 7500 Percherons were exported to the U.S. in the 1880s. In 1906 France shipped over 13,000 horses to the United States.

The Percheron became the preferred draft horse in America. "Drivers appreciated the breed's agility, stamina and quick-footed gait." This may explain why they were often owned by travelling circuses, and not just as draft horses. Their strong, wide backs made a steady platform for bareback riders.

In the late 1800s, Percherons were used to pull horse-drawn buses in English and American cities. Retired teams would be sold to farmers. Always a good war horse, the British Army shipped 325 Percherons to South Africa for their use in the Boer War.

The Percheron team at the Assiniboine Park Zoo, in their new McFeetor's Heavy Horse Centre

Other major draft horse breeds in the early 1900s included the Belgian, the Clydesdale, and the Shire. Breeding stock in Canada and U.S. was very expensive.

During World War I, the French placed an embargo on the export of Percherons. The shortage led to a breeding boom in North America, and Percherons were shipped to France as much-needed, and favoured, war horses.

It wasn't just their strength and willingness to work that made the breed a good war horse. "The lack of feathering on the Percherons' lower legs made them easier to care for in the mud that they often worked in during wartime. Their quick trot on paved roads made them more versatile than motorized vehicles, and they were useful for work with guns and in forward units due to their calm temperaments."

By the 1930s the Percheron was the preferred draft horse in the U.S., making up over 70% of the purebred draft horses in the country. There were over 33,000 Percherons in the U.S., well over three times as many as the second most popular breed - the Belgian. The Percheron was favoured because of its "strength, energy, activity, robustness and endurance."

Predictably, horse numbers declined following increased mechanization after World War II, but breeders revived the interest in the 1980s. In France, the focus between 1970 and 1990 turned from draft chores to the production of meat, selecting larger and heavier stallions for breeding.

The Percheron remains the most famous and populous of all French draft breeds. They are still versatile and well suited to pulling carriages, and are used for sleigh rides and hayrides, and in parades. At Disneyland Paris, Percherons make up one-third of the park's horses, often seen pulling trams.

Not just a draft horse, purebred Percherons are also ridden, and some have even competed as show jumpers. Crossbred Percherons have been used in dressage. 

Check out some amazing footage of famed showman Jason Goodman driving a six-horse team while standing on their backs!


Budweiser has its Clydesdales, but hauling pickles and ketchup required draft horses, too. Henry Heinz was a horseman in his day, and the company regarded Percherons as the Cadillac of horses.  Click here to watch a 22-minute feature about the famous eight-horse Heinz Hitch, a popular attraction in the Rose Bowl Parade, the Calgary Stampede, and elsewhere. Sadly, the company decided to shut down its expensive Heinz Hitch, and in 2007 their horses were donated to Arlington National Cemetery. The stately Percherons will do a magnificent job in funeral processions there. 

(By the way, did you know the Budweiser Clydes were originally from Winnipeg? A local blogger has traced them back to Shea's Brewery.)


Sources:
1) Murray Fraser, The Frasers (2003)


Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Popular Mechanics

I noted in the post Amazing sun dome you can build! that Dad was an avid reader of several science magazines, including Popular Science, Popular Mechanics, Mechanix Illustrated, Science and Mechanics, and every other permutation of those titles.

Just home from work, and diving into the latest issue of Popular Mechanics, 1970s
His interest must have started early, because the few early issues I saved from his massive library include an issue of Popular Mechanics from 1928 (when Dad was a mere 9 years old), and a 1931 issue of Modern Mechanics and Inventions. These magazines appealed to Dad's mechanical and inventive mind his entire life.


Dad built shelves for his magazine collection.
He was miffed when Popular Science enlarged its size and no longer fit.
Pre- and post-war issues of Mechanix Illustrated
Dad told a tale about reading Mechanix Illustrated in the St. James Public Library. The magazine had a feature page each month to showcase a new tool or device, presented by a scantily-overalled model called "MiMi". At the library one day, wee Myrna spotted this page and announced to all within earshot, "Daddy's reading a dirty book!" Poor Dad would cringe even to remember it.

Dad was not thrown out of the library, thankfully, and continued to visit its periodicals reading room well into his advanced years.

It's fun to look at sample articles and ads in these old issues. Their celebration of science and forecasting of future technology make for some amusing and weird bits. Check out some selected articles, below.


Popular Mechanics, 1928

A real article, honest. I'm not making this up.
I'm going to start calling my car a "road yacht."
Wrong, just wrong.
Fine in the house, but don't try getting on a bus.
The magazine's ads often promised riches beyond your wildest dreams.
Cooking in seconds? Preposterous! 
King me!

Modern Mechanics and Inventions, 1931

You would have to be a clown.
"striking and unusual" indeed 
We're still waiting for automatic turn signals.

You, too, can charm women with fake money and a nose flute.
Practical if you live in a floodplain.
Removes excess flesh without exercise? I'm in!
"It didn't work, however."
Well, you get the idea. It's easy to see how magazines like this influenced New Yorker illustrator and "retro futurist" Bruce McCall. Popular Science, in particular, is renowned for its fantastic cover art. Take a look at this gallery to admire the remarkable vehicles of the future, often in blazing orange and yellow.

Check out Bruce McCall's inspired work in a Ted Talk entitled "Nostalgia for a Future that Never Happened."


Saturday, February 20, 2016

230 Parkhill Street

When Mom and Dad married, their first home was at 230 Parkhill Street, just north of Portage Avenue in the Kirkfield Park area of Winnipeg. It was not a new house, but was a perfect little starter home for the new couple. 

Mom wrote letters to her father, Fred Stevens, to tell him all about her new home and new husband, and to thank him for his wedding cheque, which was used to buy a stove.



Letter written by Hazel Stevens to her dad, 10 days before she married Murray Fraser on July 9, 1949.
New bride Hazel Fraser at the door of 230 Parkhill Street
Mom considered the area "pretty much like the country" because it was so far from downtown.
230 Parkhill Street on a lovely winter day
The letter Mom wrote to her father in July introduced Fred Stevens to his son-in-law Murray Fraser.


"we're pretty far out of town"
Sadly, Murray Fraser never met his father-in-law. Fred Stevens died in his home from a heart attack on November 13, 1949. He was 64.

Fred G. Stevens, 1885 - 1949

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

If it flew in, it'll fly out

A restored Avro Anson.  [Source 1, photo by Rick Radell]
According to Dad, the RCAF had a saying in wartime: "If it flew in, it'll fly out."

That was an optimistic sentiment in places like No. 6 Repair Depot, where training aircraft often did not fly out, and were either patched up or added to the salvage piles in Trenton.

Prangs were common at the training centres, and rookie pilots learned their lessons the hard way.

What was not common, Dad noted, was common sense. He related one tale of a downed aircraft:

Circa 1943, a late model Avro Anson landed in a country farm field in Ontario. Perhaps it ran out of fuel.

Another Anson awaits help from 6RD after landing on its belly.  [Source 2, p. 35]

At any rate, the test pilot from No. 6 Repair Depot was sent to check out the possibility of flying it out.

Flying Officer and Fire Chief Whitney (at left), with Sgt. Pilot R. Reid, 6RD's first test pilot. Perhaps this was the intrepid pilot Dad wrote about. According to Dad, "the test pilot was a character. He had an ancient penny farthing bicycle which he rode about the station."  [Source 2, p. 15]
Our indomitable test pilot and supporting crew - crash wagon, ambulance, and fuel truck - were sent to the site. It was summertime and the field was in grass.

The main hazard was a barbed wire fence at the farthest end of the take-off run.

To dismantle the airplane and truck its parts back to base would have been a costly alternative.

The Anson was fuel checked, and it had enough to get to Trenton with minimum weight to get airborne.

With engines warmed up, a take-off run began at full throttle. Wheels were retracted as soon as airborne, and the aircraft pulled up to clear the fence.

It almost made it.

The tailplane (horizontal stabilizer) was dragging and was half torn off by a fence post.

The pilot was cool. At full throttle the Anson was climbing, but he had no elevator control. His first thought after gaining some altitude was to aim it out over Lake Erie, cut the throttle and bail out over land.

But our intrepid test pilot found that he had some control. At full throttle it was climbing. Throttle back and it would descend. He radioed, "Clear the runway, I'm going to fly it in!" With a long, slow approach using throttle control for elevation, he set her down carefully.

The station turned out to celebrate his success. He was given some award - not the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC).

What is wrong about this story? Why did no one in Technical Support have the common sense to cut and clear the damned barbed wire fence?

Dad and a fellow Leading Aircraftman (LAC) at St. Thomas, 1941, in front of what appears to be an early model Avro Anson.
The British Anson was first used operationally overseas as a light bomber and coastal patrol. It helped protect British troops during the evacuation of Dunkirk. However, the Anson was limited in range, fire-power and bomb load capacity, and was soon relegated to non-combat roles like training and transport.

The aircraft found its true purpose training pilots for flying other multi-engined bombers such as the Avro Lancaster. It was also used for training other aircrew: navigators, wireless operators, bomb aimers and air gunners.

The Avro Anson featured a plywood fuselage (earlier ones were fabric-covered) and was the most widely used twin-engine training aircraft during the war. The plane was British, designed by A.V. Roe and Company and produced from 1936 to 1952. The RAF used Ansons until 1968.

Rookie pilots aside, the plane was very adaptable, known for its strength, stability and reliability.

Ode to an Anson
Oh, the Crane may fly much faster,
Inside she may be neat,
But to me the draughty Anson
Is very hard to beat.

Her plywood may be warping,
Her window glass may crack,
But when you start out in an Anson
You know that you'll come back.

She may be a flying greenhouse,
With her windows all around,
But in that draughty Anson
You're as safe as on the ground.

She may creak and she may shudder,
As she comes out of a dive,
But if her pilot knows his stuff
She'll bring him back alive.

Her landing gear is sturdy,
It will stand for quite a drop,
If you doubt it, watch your students
Bring her in, and let her flop.

Fifteen, twenty, twenty-five,
She doesn't care a jot,
All in all, our Anson
Will stand for quite a lot.

The wind may make her weather-cock-
That's nothing to these craft,
For when you fly an Anson
You never mind a draft.

You can keep your Moth and Battle,
Your Harvard and your Crane,
Give me the good old Anson
In which our pilots train.

When she comes in with a panel,
All split from front to rear,
And the rigger starts to fix it --
They don't need a lot of gear.

A chisel and some plywood,
Some brads and a pot of glue,
Quite a bit of elbow grease
And very soon they're through.

They wheel her back out to the line,
Her Cheetahs start to cough --
And Anson knows they're lads to train
And she's eager to be off. 
By Andy (#7 SFTS; Fort MacLeod)  [Source 3]

Avro Anson V in the collection of the Canadian Aviation and Space Museum in Ottawa. This actual aircraft was built by MacDonald Bros. Aircraft in Winnipeg, in 1945.  [Source 4]
Manufacture of the Anson expanded to Canada in the 1940s, and several Canadian companies produced a total of 2,882 Ansons, under the supervision of Federal Aircraft Ltd. of Montreal. MacDonald Bros. Aircraft was contracted to manufacture 749 Avro Anson V aircraft, and expanded its plant on Berry Street in Winnipeg in order to meet the demand.

The Anson V could accommodate a crew of five, with two pilot seats side by side. It had a wing span of 56 ft. 6 in. and a cruising speed of 174 mph, with a maximum speed of 190 mph. It was powered by two Pratt and Whitney 450-hp, 9-cylinder radial engines.

Anson fuselages on the MacDonald Bros. assembly line in Winnipeg.  [Source 5]
Anson V assemblies in #4 Building, MacDonald Bros. Aircraft.  [Source 5]
Anson V built by MacDonald Bros. Aircraft, ready for delivery.  [Source 5]
Over the years, there were 13 versions of the Avro Anson. After the war, the plane was used for light transport. Although made of plywood, it was relatively draft-free, which was appreciated in Canada's climate, and the all-wood Anson was popular for magnetic surveys in Canada's north. [Source 4]

The Avro Anson played a vital role in the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan. As a trainer, the tough bird was a reliable favourite that took a lot of abuse.

But it was not invincible, and rookie pilots did things with Ansons that were never anticipated.

How Not to Land an Avro Anson 


An Anson from Malton caught in a bad snowstorm crashed into a wood pile near Sunderland, Ontario.  [Source 2, p. 35]
June 25, 1936. This Avro Mark I of 48 Squadron RAF was written off after its engine failed and it wound up in the English Channel, ten miles off Kent. All occupants survived.  [Source 6]
An early Avro Anson (known as a flying greenhouse) comes in hard.  [Source 7]
New South Wales, October 19, 1943. In this night flying accident, the Anson pilot mistook the airfield controller's signal and landed on top of an Armstrong Whitley bomber that was starting to take off. No one was injured, but the Whitley was a write-off. The Anson was repaired and flew again.  [Source 8]
Not again!  Oops, sorry, Mate.  [Source 3]
Prangs during training exercises were to be expected, and all-too numerous. But the most famous example of aircraft colliding with each other is the "Brocklesby Incident" of September 29, 1940, when two Australian Ansons from No. 2 Service Flying Training School in New South Wales collided in mid-air.




The tight turn was too tight for these two pilots. All four crewmen survived with an amazing story to tell.  [Source 9] 

The engines in the upper Anson stopped when the crash occurred, but the two aircraft remained locked together. The two navigators and pilot of the bottom plane bailed out. The pilot in the top plane flew both planes another five miles after the collision, using the controls of the top plane and the power from the one below. He made a remarkable, safe crash landing in a paddock.

And, as they say, "If it flew in, it'll fly out." The top Anson was repaired and returned to service.

[Source 10]


Sources
[1]      Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum, Hamilton.
[2]      Major E. T. Karkut, ed. The History of No. 6 Repair Depot and the Aerospace Maintenance Development Unit. Erin, Ontario: The Boston Mills Press, 1990.
[3]      Bomber Command Museum, Nanton, Alberta http://www.bombercommandmuseum.ca/anson.html
[4]      The Canadian Aviation and Science Museum, Ottawa.
[5]      Bristol Aerospace Limited. 50 Years of Technology 1930-1980. Volume One: The First Quarter Century. Winnipeg, Manitoba, 1980.
[7]      AV Canada RCAF History Forum




Murray came home



Annie Fraser's diary, 1946