The Mormor Stories: Carl and the Indian Canoe

There are very few stories about the early life of my grandfather, Carl McDonald, for a couple of reasons.  First, his early life was apparently less than pleasant, dominated by a cruel stepfather.  Second, Papa was a very reserved man with his grandchildren, at least most of the time; telling stories was not part of his social makeup, as it was with the girl who would become his wife, my grandmother Esther.  Esther, therefore, was in charge of family lore for both of them, and so most of what I know about my grandfather was filtered through my grandmother, Esther, or "Mormor."

This story concerns a time when young Carl had left home, sometime around age twelve, and it is my favorite story of Papa.

When your Papa was beginning the eighth grade he lived up on the Klamath River with a family that had a big dairy there.  He was to help with the milking, the butter-making, and various chores before and after school.

The Indians there taught him many things: how to fish, how to paddle a canoe, and how to fight.  By the way, he was one of the two white pupils in that school.

In order to get to school, Papa had to pole the canoe (an Indian dugout) up the river quite a way before starting across to the other side.  This was because the current was very swift and, in winter especially, it was dangerous, too.  But Papa managed and duly graduated from the Terwer School.

Years later his job involved supervising the instruction of the schools on the Klamath so, one day, he drove to a certain river crossing and honked his car's horn.  This was supposed to alert an Indian who lived in a cabin on the other side, who would then come to take passengers across in his motorboat.  Well, this day no one came, so Papa just took the Indian dugout which was left there for emergencies and paddled himself across.

As he neared the other side the Indian, who had been asleep, came out, beached the canoe, and asked, "Injun feller teach you paddle canoe, ain't it?"  Papa answered that Wahkel Harry had done so long ago when they were in Terwer School together.  The Indian's face lighted up as he told Papa that Wahkel Harry was now their tribal chief.  Ever after Papa was referred to by the highest compliment the Indians could give him -- Guvment Man.

(Photo stolen from this site)

I have searched the internet for information about Wahkel Harry, with little luck.  While there is at least one photo of him which exists among the collections of Humboldt State University, it is not available on-line.  There was an article with a photo printed about him years ago, because I read it, but it has not been archived on the internet either, apparently.  "Wahkel" is the spelling my grandmother assigned to the name, although I have also found "Waukel," Wo'kel" and "Waukell" in reference to the area.  I'm fairly certain that Wahkel Harry was a member of the Yurok tribe.

(Photo stolen from this site)

Comments

[DaGoddess]

Awesomeness! Hope you discover more info somewhere. I love that you're sharing with us. Thank you!

[Auds]

Yes! More Mormor! I am a very happy camper right now, sans caffeine.

Stumbled this because I love your stories SO MUCH!

[foolery]

Steph, on my sidebar is a link to all the Mormor stories thus far (maybe twenty?). She wrote down all of her favorite stories that she had told to us kids, and my aunt typed them up on loose leaf papers for her. Each child, grandchild, niece and nephew received a folder of the photocopied pages two Christmases in a row. I'm working my way through them in a somewhat chronological order.

About half of the stories came from her adult years, from the 1920s to the '50s or so. Some of those include people still living, so I will ask permission of those people (including my own mother) to post them first. Thanks for reading!

-- Laurie

[Steph]

More, please! Also? You're writing all the Mormor lore down somewhere, yes?

[Cactus Petunia]

I love those Mormor stories...keep 'em coming!

[Mental P Mama]

Another wonderful story...with wonderful pictures.

[Rick's Cafe]

....and some day our grand-children's children will be telling stories about how hard life was - back at turn of the century.

Memorable story, thanks.

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

What a great story that once again illustrates how different our lives are now.

If only my children would do chores before and after school without any back sass. Then maybe I could play on the internet all day and actually get some housework done.