We have all heard the stereotypical jokes when referencing how flat Saskatchewan is. I’m perplexed why the stigma was not given to Manitoba. I’ve been fortunate to drive across both provinces primarily on back roads and secondary highways, and I have enjoyed every minute of every mile. And because of this, here is a fun fact. Did you know only 10% of Manitoba is 400m above sea level, and it’s neighbour to the west is 60%? You don’t think of Saskatchewan being a place with any significant elevation; however, it will surprise you if you only look. If I have any advice to give it’s this, drive a province in Canada from South to North, and you will see a different view, literally than the one from the TransCanada Highway. Given how flat Manitoba is, the change in landscape is beautiful, just the same. One minute you’re in lush prairie fields, the next you’re in dense bush, and suddenly the road in front of you disappears into a small lake.
Picking up where we left off, my encounter with Audrah, Uncle Bob, and Brian mentioned another individual whom I might be interested in meeting. The two took it upon themselves to drive me personally to the small town of Olha. Historically, the area was a large Ukraine settlement where migrants made the long and treacherous journey to Canada in 1898. Once settlers arrived, and while waiting for the land allotments, the weather started to turn, given how late in the season they had come. Makeshift huts were constructed to survive the brutal winter. Without time or a mill to build adequate shelter, conditions started rapidly deteriorating, and scarlet fever took over. Tragically, forty-two men, women, and children died due to the exposure, and the area now holds a permanent memorial marking the mass graves where these settlers now rest.
The road leading into the town was surrounded by a mix of farmland, and what I can only assume is a flood plain, where a variety of small ponds and lakes break up the landscape. The town of Olha sits at a three-way intersection with faded red stop signs and the lone general store on the corner. It resembled more like a rural home than a place you would buy your last-minute weekly groceries. The only distinguishing factor was the signage and familiar blue and red Canada sign next to it. A stone’s throw away from the store was a catholic church that has been beautifully restored and maintained, an iron archway marking the entrance with the words St. Michaels Catholic Church - 1904. Just past the arch, tall evergreens lined the driveway like soldiers in a single file, parting a path to the church’s front door. The property is also home to the Olha cemetery with beautifully maintained graves and the afternoon sun providing some sense of peace. I waited for some affliction walking amongst unfamiliar names on headstones, but none came.
As I entered the store, I was introduced to Marion Koltusky, a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair and gentle eyes. After introductions, Marion happily agreed to have her picture taken, and I began the process of setting up my equipment while casually asking her questions. Customers were coming and going, making their purchases and looks of confusion and curiosity on their faces. You could not only feel, but see Marion’s kindness and the effect she had on the people that walked into her store.
Marion was born on Sept 30, 1947, on the same plot of land where she still resides to this day, the very same her grandparents homesteaded initially. She grew up on your typical farm, raising various livestock and animals: pigs, ducks, chickens, cattle. “We didn’t have much time for pleasure, we went to church, I guess”... “I would milk fifteen cows by hand, and it seemed we had more time back then than today.” In 1972 It was Marion and her husband Steve that took over the general store since its inagural opening in 1940. It also served as the post office for the surrounding area until Marion retired as postmaster in 2010. “I meet a lot of people, and there is always someone that walks through the door that I want to see, sometimes that is not always the case.” she mentions with a laugh.
Marion still sees her son almost every day, where he works the farm with her brother. I asked if the area is cause to most small towns dying, people leaving. She mentions five families recently moved to the Rossburn municipality and happily traded in their city life. Unfortunately, this past May, her husband Steve passed away. I remember Steve sitting to my right when taking Marion’s picture. His comments intentionally trying to get a reaction out of his wife. Marion’s sharp humour and witty comebacks were no match, having us all laughing uncontrollably. She’s also known as the mother hen to the area, and this last fall community supper, she baked ninety pies in one day and recently received the order of Manitoba. At one point in January of 1988, their neighbour’s wife left him with a four year old daughter. He asked the Koltusky’s if they would help him raise her, they did, and I never asked for details allowing her to talk more about it if she felt comfortable.
Nowadays, you can still find Marion at her front counter, working the same hours she has for the past fifty-plus years. We spoke on the phone recently, and she’s just as kind and sweet as I remember. As we talked about her family and life growing up in the country, that laugh of hers brought me back to that warm summer day in Olha. I remember leaving the general store with a great sense of joy, smiling from the small-town banter, ice cream in-hand, and that peaceful feeling when the warm sun hits your back.
