Fauquier, BC, Canada – A Colorful Gem in the Fall

November 2, 2016 / Peter Klopp / 14 Comments

A Photo Essay without Words

Gloria Deo qui creavit naturam spledidam autumni!

Chapter 22 of the Peter and Gertrud Klopp Story – Part VII

October 28, 2016October 31, 2016 / Peter Klopp / 11 Comments

Career Planning and a Painful Self-Assessment

Art Work Entitled ‘There are many ways’ by my Friend Hans Fricke

My brother Gerry, who lived in Medicine Hat during my service in the West German army, is not exactly known among family members as an avid letter writer. All the more I was surprised to receive a detailed answer from him to my question regarding teacher’s training in Alberta, Canada. Driven by youthful desire for adventure but also by a kind of escapism that was getting stronger with each additional month in the army I wanted to explore a possible teaching career in Canada.

my-brother-gerry-and-wife-martha-in-the-early-60s

My Brother Gerry and his Wife Martha at Medicine Hat

Equally important for the understanding of my sudden interest in a totally different profession was that my staff sergeant in Koblenz had taken notice of my knowledge of basic electricity and electronics and had given me the task to instruct the new recruits. This went over so well that I was given more and more time off from regular duty to prepare my lessons and teach. So it happened that I discovered a talent, which I thought I did not have. Gerry accurately explained the requirements for entering the teaching profession in Alberta. I had to have my German high school diploma validated, had to give evidence for proficiency in the English language, and had to complete a minimum of two years university training. With this information I was able to do some serious planning for the future. Suddenly a most fortuitous train of thoughts popped up in my mind that greatly increased my longing to go to Canada. Exciting ideas followed in rapid succession: immigration, teachers’ training at the University of Calgary, a teaching career, an income with the prospect of pay increases with more training, getting married to Biene and having a family.

mother-and-daughter-in-law-martha-in-medicine-hat

Mother and Daughter-In-Law Martha at her Home in Medicine Hat

I am still thankful to the captain from the basic training period for instilling the desire for good planning in order to achieve a dream The target I aimed for was still years ahead. It was actually a twin target of a rewarding career and life with Biene at my side. To hit the bull’s eye at such a distance would require a great deal of determination and persistence. Would I have those qualities, but most importantly would Biene support me in something – I am ashamed to admit – I had not even mentioned to her yet? So this would be a good time to have a critical look at myself. In my own eyes I had become a mature young man years ahead of my comrades in terms of acquired wisdom and good planning. But when I looked at the erroneous assumptions I had made about the world around me, about Biene and myself, I marvel at the way all my dreams had eventually become a reality.

Firstly, in my letters to Biene I had written about love, but never about marriage. I assumed that my ‘I love you’ would translate into ‘Will you marry me?’

Secondly, what was Biene to make out of my long-winded flowery dissertation on love between a man and woman?

Thirdly, Biene had already been frightened by the painful events leading up to and following the break-up of her engagement with Henk. Now I came and frightened her some more by openly writing about my passion for her without revealing or at least hinting at my genuine intention to marry her.

Fourthly, it was preposterous to assume that just because I was willing to marry her she would want to marry me too. This was truly the mark of an egocentric ass that I was at the time.

Last but not least, twelve months in the army and my comrades’ boastful talk about their amorous adventures should have taught me that being married and making love do not necessarily belong together. How was Biene supposed to know what was on my mind about a topic that had been a taboo throughout our childhood years?

So in summary I had built a dream castle with love, marriage, family and career on the preconceived notion that Biene had read all this and much more between the lines. It was then one of the great miracles of our relationship that no storm tide came rushing in at that particular juncture and made the castle collapse like a deck of cards.

In a postcard Biene briefly assured me that she no longer wanted a mere soul-mate relationship. She wrote that many of the questions and problems that were troubling us would be resolved once we had met again. And indeed we met exactly two years after we had our first encounter at Lake Baldenay. This brought some sunshine into my heart. My brother Adolf contributed a great deal to enhance that joie de vivre, which I felt all the more intensely, whenever I went with him on an excursion in and around the Rhine, Moselle and Lahn valleys.

Back on Track

September 15, 2016September 15, 2016 / Peter Klopp / 10 Comments

To all my friends and followers I am sending out my apologies for resuming later than promised my blogging activities. As I am relaxing in the sunshine of a glorious late summer day at our favourite Taite Creek campground on our beautiful Arrow Lake, I am typing up the major themes of the Klopp Family blog for the coming fall and winter.

Keeping Company with Blue Herons

Before I delve into that I wish to express my sincere regret front having had the time to read and appreciate our posts during the last couple of weeks. The summer months – normally already very busy with travels, visiting family and friends, and activities away from the computer – turned out to be extremely strenuous and stressful this summer, although the events also brought a lot of joy into our hearts. After our family reunion on Galiano Island, our son Richard, our grandson Mateo, and the two granddaughters Azure and Emeline spent their vacation with us in July and August. Unfortunately, this was also the time of preparation for the removal of our old house to be replaced by a new modular home, which our son Michael ordered for us to be built on the site of the demolished house.

Early Morning Magic at Taite Creek Campground – Photo Credit: Gertrud Klopp

So you know now why I am writing this introductory post at the campsite. For my wife and I are practically homeless for the next couple of weeks and have to make do in our small travel trailer.

For the fall and winter season, I will focus on the following themes:

The Peter and Gertrud Klopp Story (continued)

Revamping and Improving the Family Trees

Fauquier – Nature’s Beauty in the West Kootenays (continued)

Fauquier – Its History (continued)

Aunt Anna – Baroness of Von Waldenfels

Local Enterprises and Cottage Industries

Contributions by Family Members in German

Family Review of Summer 2016

Without home access to the Internet I will publish at the beginning just one or two posts per week. I am looking forward to read again all your posts and am really excited to find out what is going on in your part of the world.

Origin of Needles, BC

June 27, 2016June 27, 2016 / Peter Klopp / 1 Comment

Needles took name from Arrow Lake Sandspits

by Greg Nesteroff

reprinted by kind permission from Arrow Lakes News

Needles, the western terminal of the Lower Arrow Lake ferry, was formerly known as The Needles, and was first mentioned in the Nelson Miner of Nov. 30,1895, concerning two mining claims recorded by John D. McDonald and A. A. McPherson “at the Needles, Lower Arrow Lake.” In an interview published in the Arrow Lakes News on June 19,1958, Rose Wright explained the names origin: ‘“Why do you and many old timers speak of Needles as The Needles?’ ‘Well, it was always The Needles in the old days, due to the long points that reached out into the lake. It is only in later years that it has been shortened to Needles.”’ Actually, the shortened version actually first appeared in the Miner a week after the long version debuted, also in relation to mining claims, but it wasn’t until the Fire Valley post office was renamed Needles on Oct. 1, 1906 that it became commonplace. Even so, the “The” stuck around for some time — the Nelson Daily News of July 13,1911 noted “Welford Beeton of the Needles came in last night…”

Needles Ferry (Fauquier – Needles) – Photo Credit: Gertrud Klopp

According to the BC Geographical Names database, Needles is the landing’s name, but The Needles is still the official name of the narrows, even though construction of the High Arrow Dam in the 1960s submerged both the sandspits and the community that grew up there.

A new Needles post office was established in 1908 and closed in 1968 upon the flooding of the Arrow Lakes. Today the only thing left of the old community is its cemetery.

In 1910, A.H. Green surveyed what’s now Fauquier, on the east side of the lake, but the map called it Needles Ranch, a name by which it had been known since at least 1905.

According to Just Where is Edgewood, a place between Needles and Edgewood was known as McKallister’s Landing, after “the land agent who settled the townsite of Needles.”

No contemporary examples have been found of this place name and it’s not known exactly who its namesake was, although he was apparently still in the area selling property as of 1911.

The late Bill Laux said McKallister’s (or McAllister’s) Landing was the site of the original Fire Valley post office, which opened in 1894. Later, the CPR called this place Page’s Landing after William Henry Page (1861-1933), an English miner who came to the area from Butte, Mont. around 1893 and served as Fire Valley postmaster from 1908 to 1910.

Just Where is Edgewood (which erroneously calls him Walter Page) describes him thusly: “ [H]e lived on the lakeshore between Edgewood and Needles … He had been married at one time but his wife never moved to the valley. He was always referred to as Captain Page and often took the part of Santa Claus in the early Edgewood years. He was a fat, jolly type of person.”

He was among the first burials at the Needles cemetery, although his grave is unmarked. A mountain ridge was supposedly named for him as well, but it’s no longer on the books.

Pages Landing was first referred to in the Revelstoke Kootenay Mail of Sept. 26,1902: “The scene of the new strike is only 16 miles from Page s Landing, on Arrow Lake …”

It was only ever mentioned a few more times.

George Craft is seen in front of the Needles Hotel, which was also the post office. He was postmaster from 1920 until his death in 1942, whereupon his wife Edith took over the job. Today all that’s left of the old Needles townsite is the cemetery.
Courtesy Ed and Marian Craft

Chapter 21 of the P. and G. Klopp Story – Part II

May 6, 2016 / Peter Klopp / 6 Comments

To my dear blogging friends: Please note there will be only two posts next week. The one on Tuesday will continue with Anke Schubert’s submission in German: Eine ergreifende Liebesgeschichte, and the one on Thursday will be the next episode of the P.and G. Klopp Story. Canada is celebrating Victoria Day with one extra holiday for the month of May.

Discussion with a Friend on the Nature of Love

Mother had just returned from a visit to Gerry, daughter-in-law Martha and her one-year old grandson Wayne in Medicine Hat, Alberta. It so happened that I was on a ten-days leave and spent a relaxing vacation with her and Aunt Mieze, Aunt Lucie and Uncle Günther at their wonderful house in Watzenborn-Steinberg (Pohlheim). Mother talked a lot about her exciting trip to Canada. The proud grandmother had traveled with Gerry’s family over the Rocky Mountains all the way to beautiful British Columbia. Gerry described the countryside with its lush valleys, wild rushing streams, spectacular scenery and mild climate as God’s country. True to a long family tradition in the Kegler branch of the family, Mother wrote a report of her experiences of her journey to the land of the beavers.

Mother Erika Klopp with Gerry on her visit to Canada

Biene’s school holidays were approaching. In 1962 her family had spent their vacation on the Mediterranean island of Corsica. Now they were planning to spend a couple of weeks at Lake Ammer in Bavaria. Even though I felt my love for Biene was getting stronger with every passing week, I did not openly declare it to her, because I erroneously assumed that she would already know. When she once asked me if I had ever been in love, I missed the golden opportunity to reveal what was on my heart. Instead I used a ride on my brand-new bicycle as a metaphor to describe in the most abstruse way the chaotic state of my inner being. I described how I got lost in the woods. I did not know which way to choose to get out. I dug deep into my psyche, too deep for comfort. Not yet realizing that the good and the evil lie close together within each and every human being, I criticized the world for failing to give me directions. Blind as a bat to my own flaws and weaknesses, I declared the entire world with its political systems, the church, and the army rotten and corrupt. These pathetic meanderings of my mind did very little to express my true feelings for her and would have been better left unsaid.

Peter on his brand new bicycle

For the remaining three or four days I went on a bicycle tour with Dieter, my new army buddy. We traveled first up the River Moselle, then climbed up into the Eifel Mountains and stopped at a beautiful campsite named Pomerania, which reminded me of my grandparents’ lost home province in the east. At nightfall we sat in front of our tent looking at the rising moon in a cloudless sky. The day before I had bought a bottle of Moselle wine, a Riesling well-known for its distinguished qualities due to the grapes, which incredibly ripen more fully during extended periods of autumnal fog in the river valley. Gazing at the crescent of the rising moon I remarked, “If me girl-friend in Velbert also looked at the moon this very minute, our eyes would be fixed on the same heavenly object and in some esoteric way we would be connected with one another.”

Famous Moselle Valley with Germany’s finest Vineyards

Dieter chortled a few times, before he retorted, “But my friend, don’t be an idiot. That is not the same as being physically present. When I kiss my beloved Heidi, I know real love, love that you cannot even fathom with your strange romantic ideas in your head.” And that was the beginning of a long discussion on the nature of love. When we had savored the last drop of the wine and were ready to crawl into the tent, we had moved away from our opposite points of view and found some middle ground. We agreed that in order for a relationship to be meaningful both the physical and spiritual dimensions would have to be present. We learned something important from each other. As for me, I resolved to arrange a rendezvous with Biene at the first opportunity that would offer itself in the near future. But you never know to start with, how things turn out in the end.