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June 30, 2003
Oscar Paulson was a sawyer

Story by Stephan Burnett

Frontiersman and sawyer Oscar Paulson recalls the beginnings of the sawmill business in the area.

Craig Corser, president and CEO of Yellowhead Wood Products, piles into his SUV after slamming the cargo lid, allowing his dog Junior into the vehicle. We're on our way to The Landing, situated at the confluence of the Erith and Embarrass Rivers, roughly 25 kilometres west of Edson, an area that was developed in the early 1930s by Art and Frank Corser working with men like Oscar Paulson.

Oscar was just 16 years old when he and his father, Peter, came out to the Edson territory to skid logs out of the bush and work at the mill. Peter Paulson had worked for the Corsers when they were operating in the McKay area, roughly 35 kilometres east of Edson.

Craig Corser, president of Yellowhead Wood Products, explains Oscar is one of the few surviving men of the days when rivers were used to flood logs down to mills prior to the advent of the diesel-powered skidder. The mill was bought by Art Corser in the early 1930s after a French family, named Barril, had fallen on hard times after several years in which summer floods carried their winters logging away to the Hudsons Bay.

Ray Harvey, one of the key personnel at Yellowhead Wood Products lives at the site, along with his wife Cheryl. We pull up to a crossroad bisecting the highway to the north and south, to the north lies Fickle Lake, named after some of the region's earliest settlers.

To the south lies Erith. We stop and let Junior out to run the last two kilometers. The first thing seen upon rounding the corner and passing into the 40 acres expanse of the old millsite, is a huge saw mill burner. Also known as a wigwam burner, these massive teepee-shaped edifices strike a poetic pose against the cleared landscape. The Embarrass and Erith Rivers converge a few hundred yards to the southwest and Oscar Paulson's small white house lies as close to the confluence of the two rivers as one could safely situate an abode.

Piling out, Craig explains Oscar does not have a phone and may be surprised by our arrival. After knocking, we wait patiently, and knock again. Craig speculates, Oscar may be out for his daily constitutional, the 87-year-old walks the two kilometers to the highway prior to turning back.

As we turn to walk away the door is shyly cracked open - later opening wide. Smiling, Oscar seems an amiable fellow. Craig explains we'd like to hear some stories of the early day at the mill and Oscar replies he is in the middle of his breakfast and will be ready to head to the Branch Inn for a coffee and a chat within a few minutes. We decide to impose on Cheryl Harvey who is next door and in the process of stacking wood. A quick coffee turns into 45 minutes when Junior’s barking outside signals Oscar's arrival.

After a few quick pictures, we're back on our way to the Branch Inn, a restaurant situated within a stones throw of Yellowhead Wood Products. Oscar explains the sawmill operation at Erith was no small venture - more than 100 men spent most of their winter months working at the mill while tending to farms and ranches during the summer months. Craig has a few matters to attend to and drops us off at the restaurant.

'Most of us were farmers', Oscar continues, 'We worked 10 hours a day, six days a week. I don't remember them all but my uncle, John Broughton was a tie loader. He had a pad on his shoulder and he would flip those ties up to load onto the boxcar. He had a way of doing it by walking with the sway of the plank that would make it easier for him.'

Oscar adds his father, Peter, worked for the Corsers throughout most of his winters as well while tending to a farm in the Vilna area during the summer months. Peter Paulson was one of the original river drivers. There were two camps involved in the operation, Camp 1 and Camp 2. Camp 1 was the scene of the steam-powered saw mill at Erith. A series log booms would hold the inventory of logs which were moved into the sawmill by a jackladder.

Approximately 20 miles up river, a dam was built to hold back water which, when released provided the flood of water to carry the logs downstream to Erith. Skidders with teams of four horses would drag the logs from the forest and deposit them along the river. 'My father was a river driver. He could run across those logs and hardly get wet and I'd be wet up to here,' said Oscar, levelling his hand half-way up his chest, 'I worked as a skidder and later as a sawyer.'

Oscar continues, 'There was one story I wanted to tell you about. One day I was going around like crazy trying to get things done. Art Corser came up to me and said, What's got into you today?'

'Well, Art,' I said, 'I've been working all winter without getting home and I wanted to get done to catch the train.' Then Art said, 'Well, if that's the case, I'll head back to do up your pay packet. I'll even go with you.'

'So that's exactly what he did. We made the train and Art had brought a bottle with him. I'm not sure if it was scotch or rye or rum, but anyway, he started feeding me this and we got to feeling pretty high. I got up to head to the bathroom and once I was done, I reached up to pull the lever and I stopped the train! That Art Corser, I'll never forget him.'

While that was one of his most memorable days, Oscar says one of the roughest days they ever had at the mill was the day Frank Corser died. 'We were casing a well at Wolf Creek. Frank was one of the men anchoring the rope for lowering the constructed casing down into the well. The rope slipped and Frank was tangled up and couldn't let go. He was pulled into the pulleys that were suspended from the tripod set up over the well. I was the man that was lowered into the well after him, but he was already dead. I slipped the rope around him and we were pulled out. That was a hard day. He was a very good man.'

Having finished our meals, we get into the car and traverse back toward Erith. We shake hands and as we depart, Oscar marvels at the development of websites while I marvel over a piece of history rarely told.

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