"Redrawing the Prairie Skyline" by Joscelyn Proby In Legacy Spring 2001

Harold Gulbraa watched in agony on a cold windy day last October while the last elevator in Irma toppled to the ground.

"I was very, very sad and extremely angry," says the local grain farmer, of the demolition. His bid to buy the Agricore elevator had been turned down, he says. "Within five days there wasn't a chunk of wood the size of your thumb left. There's just a black patch of earth there now. That's progress, they say." Now, he has to haul his grain at least 45 kilometres to the nearest regional terminal at Viking. He and his father and his grandfather used to haul the grain eight kilometers to Irma.

Gulbraa planned to store grain in the elevator and preserve it for its historical significance. In the next 10 years, when they are all torn down, it would have been very valuable if it were in its original, working condition, he predicts.

Alberta's country elevators are coming down fast. In their heyday in the 1930s, there were 1,755 licensed elevators dotted along the railway lines every 12 to 16 kilometres, or the distance it took a farmer to make the return trip by horse and wagon in a day. Since the 1960s, smaller elevators have gradually been torn down. This accelerated over the last five years after the Crow Rate subsidy was stopped and more branch rail lines were abandoned.

Russell Jeffrey, marketing manager for United Grain Growers (UGG) in Winnipeg, says the grain companies save money operating the large computerized elevators because the costs of labour, electricity, and taxes are lower. They can fill 100 rail cars with grain in a day whereas employees at the small manually operated country elevators fill six to ten. The rail companies offer incentives if the trains make fewer stops, he adds. UGG plans to maintain the larger country elevator that have been upgraded in the last few years and can load up to 50 cars, but the smaller ones will be torn down, he says.

Jane Ross, Western Canadian History curator at the Provincial Museum of Alberta, says the country elevators are a remnant of a slower way of life. "A farmer built up a real rapport with his elevator agent. He'd stop and chat a bit and then go to the bank and pick up groceries." Communities got their identity from these prairie giants, she says. A two- or three- elevator community meant a settlement of about 100 people. A five- or six-elevator town signified a restaurant and a bank.

"They [the grain companies] are tearing them down almost as quickly as they close them," says Ross. The elevators are usually built on land belonging to the railway companies, and they want to be rid of the liability, as well, she says. In August 2000 there were 209 licensed country elevators left in the province, compares to 242 a year earlier and 327 in 1997.

When Ross put out a public appeal for photographs of Alberta elevators a few years ago, she received 4,500. "The elevator silhouette is so deeply ingrained on our psyche that it has become an icon of our western identity," she says.

Scriptwriter Jim Warner still recalls how he felt the first time he drove home after the three elevators were demolished in his hometown of Tofield. "When I came around the bend at the Lindbrook corner and saw nothing, it was shocking," he says. "The flat horizon was very strange." That feeling sparked the idea for a documentary, titled Death of a Skyline, which Warner is producing with director Bryan Smith. The National Film Board production should be ready for television by this summer.

The demolition of the country elevators symbolizes the end of the family farm, and sometimes the death of a whole community, Warner says. Although he names at least half a dozen communities where people are trying to save their elevators, he says he's surprised there isn't more public outcry. Mind you, he notes, community groups who fight to save their elevators have to be very tenacious. Some are.

At Paradise Valley, south of Lloydminster, volunteers have raised nearly a quarter of a million dollars in grants and donations to restore their local elevator. "Everyone put some money in. It was a community effort," says Ardis Dobson, whose late husband, Parke Dobson, spearheaded the project when it opened in 1995. The volunteers have built a museum in the annex beside the 1929 elevator. Wheelchair accessible, it has a tea room as well as 53 displays, including a tar-paper shack, a log house, and a one-room school room. The community has been rewarded by a large number of visitors. Last year close to 3,000 people called in at the museum.

"We only have 145 people living here and we're kind of out of the way," says Dobson. "We've been absolutely amazed to have so many people come. It's been a very worthwhile project."

At Andrew, 125 kilometres northeast of Edmonton, another community group has started a similar project. Last summer, they managed to buy the 1929 elevator form Agricore for $10,000 and the land from Canadian Pacific for $5,000. "When we actually did it, I was very proud of the community," says Roberta Ropchan, a member of Andrew and District Historical Archives Museum Society. There were no corporate sponsors. People brought in donations of five dollars to a thousand, she says.

The community plans to turn the two annexes beside the elevator into an interpretive center focusing on the grain trade and the history of the area. Local farmers will continue to use the elevator to get their grain weighed and tested to see if it is dry enough for harvesting.

"We have people who just want to see inside the elevator because they were never allowed to do that before," Ropchan says. A tour of the elevator helps the uninitiated appreciate the anxiety farmers go through when they wait to find if their grain is dry enough for combining, she says.

Ropchan does not know how much the interpretive center will cost to complete. "We're going to work at it stage by stage," she says. The group plans to apply for grants, as well as hold 50-50 raffles and appeal to local service clubs. "I'm loving it," she says. "This is our retirement project."

Ernie Halun is less enthusiastic about the restoration of the Radway elevator. The 1929 Krause Milling Company elevator has been repainted its original white and looks excellent, he says. However, the project is proving to be more expensive and labour intensive then the Radway historical association anticipated.

Radway, approximately 45 minutes' drive northeast of Edmonton, has a population of about 200 inhabitants. Halun, a retired teacher, says he is the youngest member of the historical association. The group eventually hopes to offer self-guided tours and to have the building open for community events such as pioneer days.

"A lot of people thought it was a great idea to save it," Halun says, adding that he's happy now they've done it, but might have reconsidered has he known the cost. He estimates they will have to spend about $100,000 on the renovations, at least 50 per cent coming from donation. To qualify for a grant of a little over $20,000 form the Alberta Historical Resources Foundation, the group had to use authentic, high quality materials. They hired a contractor to ensure the work was done properly.

The City of St. Albert bought the two elevators 10 years ago that are now part of the Musee Heritage Museum and are run as interpretive centers. The 1906 St. Albert elevator is the oldest working elevator in the province. Visitors get to turn the grain grinder, stand on the weigh scales, and watch the elevator leg operating. It once carried the grain on an endless scoop belt about 45 metres up a wooden shaft to the top of the elevator, where it was dumped into the distributor spout. From there it was funneled into storage bins. "It's a Canadian invention," says curator Hans Huizinga.

Huizinga says saving an elevator is a worthwhile project, as long as the organizers have a plan and are able to convince the municipality to back them financially. He estimates the museum has spent over $200,000 on capital costs, such as putting a three-metre fence around the elevators, stabilizing the foundations, re-shingling the roofs, and painting the exterior of the buildings. As well as volunteer labour, donations, and corporate support, the museum has received grants from the provincial and federal governments and from the lottery board. But it can take as much as 80 hours of work to research and apply for a grant, and they all come with strings attached, he says. Most require matching funds. "There's no free money," he says.

Despite the time and energy it takes, Pat Didychuk of Acadia Valley in southeast Alberta strongly believes saving an elevator is well worthwhile. The municipal district of Acadia bought the Pioneer Grain Company elevator in 1991 for a dollar. The 1968 elevator is still in working order and has been preserved as a grain museum along with a caboose, and antique fire truck, a threshing machine, and various other bits of farm machinery. A gift shop and tea room have been added. Didychuk says that, initially, the community group had to move quickly or the elevator would have been demolished. Fortunately, the municipality supported them and continues to pay the insurance on the museum. "We all enjoy what we're doing, and it's so worthwhile for the community," she says. "It brings a lot of visitors [last year they had 1,500] and it's a center particularly for the seniors. They love to come up to the museum and have a cup of tea and a piece of pie."

"I think people are wise to do it [save the elevator] for their community," she says, adding that small communities like Acadia Valley with 130 inhabitants, need a central point of interest. "Anything that closes in a small town takes away people and the spirit of the place."