Florence Kaefer - Back to the Red Road: A Story of Survival, Redemption and Love

Copyright 2014 Florence Kaefer and the Estate of Edward Gamblin.

Operational History and Timeline of Norway House Indian Residential School Copyright the United Church of Canada Archives.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission of the publisher or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from Access Copyright, the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency, .

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Edit by Barbara Pulling, copy edit by Kathleen Fraser.

Edward Gamblin's song lyrics reprinted with the permission of Red Road Music.

Text and cover design by Vici Johnstone.

EPUB by Kathleen Fraser.

Map of Manitoba by Natural Resources Canada (The Atlas of Canada) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Caitlin Press Inc. acknowledges financial support from the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and from the Province of British Columbia through the British Columbia Arts Council and the Book Publishers Tax Credit.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Kaefer, Florence, 1935-, author

Back to the red road : a story of survival, redemption

and love / Florence Kaefer, Edward Gamblin.

ISBN 978-1-927575-78-9 (EPUB)

1. Kaefer, Florence, 1935-. 2. Gamblin, Edward. 3. Norway

House Indian Residential School (Norway House, Man.)History.

4. Indians of North AmericaManitoba--Residential schools.

5. Abused Indian childrenManitoba. 6. Cree IndiansEducation

Manitoba. 7. TeachersManitobaBiography. 8. Native musicians

CanadaBiography. 9. Cree IndiansBiography.

I. Gamblin, Edward, author II. Title.

E96.65.M35K33 2014 371.829'97323071271 C2014-900484-2

This book is dedicated to all residential school survivors and their families.

Dear Edward,

May the Creator, the Grandmothers and Grandfathers watch over your grave. May they send soft winter snowflakes and place sparkling hoarfrost on the trees around your sacred space beside your beloved Aurelia.

May wildflowers grow beside the fence and among the graves. The wolf and her cubs will silently walk near and stop to listen for spiritual voices and distant drums. She will lie by your grave and remember she is your guardian. A ladybug will alight upon your cross.

May eagles swoop down to earth and lift you up to soar on the air currents, so that you can view all of your Creators world.

Florence

When immigrants came to this land, which they later named Canada, the First People had already been here for thousands of years. Their cultures provided a pristine environment of pure water, fresh air, abundant food and every necessity for life. They welcomed the immigrants along the St. Lawrence River the first winter, saving their lives with a cure for scurvy. In the spring the immigrant Cartier kidnapped the chiefs sons and took them to France, where they later died.

Immigrants kept coming by the thousands, disregarding the Original People, destroying their resources and forcing them away from the richest parts of the land. Finally, the immigrants took away the most precious resources of the First People: their children.

In 1954, when I was nineteen, I accepted a job as a teacher at the United Church Residential School in Norway House, Manitoba. Unaware of the difficult conditions the students were enduring, my fellow teachers and I tried to nurture a school full of lonely and homesick young children.

After a few years, I married and moved away to Vancouver Island where I continued to teach, but often thought of the children at Norway House. Many years later, in 2004, I reconnected with one of my students, Edward Gamblin, who had been a bright and seemingly happy young child. I was horrified and deeply saddened when he told me of the abuse he had suffered at the residential school and how the government had erased his cultural identity. Edward and I grew very close over the years. We developed a special bond and eventually he became my traditionally adopted son and I his mother.

Edwards life was a tributary that joined mine at a special time in Canadian historythe time of the apology to Indian residential school students. As Victoria Freeman writes in her book Distant Relations: How My Ancestors Colonized North America, I cant speak for Americans, but I know that we Canadians like to consider ourselves benevolent defenders of human rights. It is hard to admit that our modern, liberal democracy has been built upon the destruction of aboriginal nations and cultural identity

Edward spoke out publicly about the abuse and racism his people experienced and that still exists in Canada today. He wrote songs, gave interviews, conducted healing circles and began to write a book. Like trickles of water melting from a glacier, Edward and many First Nations people have found their voice and their stories are beginning to flow like a raging river.

When Edward died in 2010, I wondered how I could live without him. In the short years we had together his warmth and gentle nature had such an effect on me. To help me through the tragedy of his death, I decided to write my own story to help him complete the book that he began but never had a chance to finish. I had never written a book before, but for as long as people read it, Edward will live on, so I knew I had to try.

Edward Gamblin left us his stories, his love and his music. His songs remain meaningful and touching, expressing his deepest personal feelings and the feelings of the people he met throughout his life. His melodic, rhythmic and steady beat made it impossible for his audience to sit still and his words often moved them to tears. Regrettably, I never had the pleasure of attending one of Edwards live performances, but his music is in my heart as I dance around the kitchen to his wonderful songs.

Without Edward here to help me I have done my best to remember and write our story. His picture sits on the table beside me as I reread letters, emails and cards and remember our conversations and special talks in the hospital room in Winnipeg. Edward once signed a letter to me, May the light shine on every path you walk. That light will guide me now.

• Victoria Freeman, Distant Relations: How My Ancestors Colonized North America (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 2000), 449-450.

Its July 27, 2010. I phone the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg and ask for the desk on GD4.

Could I speak to Edward Gamblins nurse?