I know you’ve been on the edge of your chairs waiting for this since that first post about Preeceville Saskatchewan a few months ago, so without (even) further ado, here it is…
Visiting Preeceville was one of the primary reasons for my Mum and I’s trip out West this past summer. As I mentioned, it’s where my great great grandparents settled in Canada in the early 1900s. They left Sweden in 1891 moving first to Minnesota before coming to Preeceville in 1904.
Although we’re fortunate to have family records and photos from that time, we really had no sense of what that area was like. For whatever reason both my Mum and I felt compelled to go there.
The family farm and barn is long gone, lost to fire, but we could still see the land.
We could stand in those fields.
After flying into and spending a day in Saskatoon (which is an incredible little city FYI) we rented a car to drive the 3 hours east to Preeceville. I searched for AirBnB’s nearby and, well, nothing in a 2 hour radius. Eventually via some top notch Googling I found a listing for the only Bed & Breakfast in Preeceville. No website. I sent an email asking for availability.
“Here? Really? Yes of course we’ve got rooms! What uh… what brings you out here?”
Preeceville isn’t exactly a tourist destination you see. I gave them the Readers Digest version—Mum and Daughter tracing their family history in search of an unknown patch of land their great great whatevers once called home—and they seemed intrigued. Or entertained?
So we arrive, delighted to find what was the sweetest log cabin style home in the middle of gorgeous aspen woods. Just stunning! And the owners were lovely.
We get talking. Mum and I explain we didn’t actually know where the family farm is, we just came with the blind faith that somehow we’d find it. That’s when they phoned up Dennis.
You see Dennis has called Preeceville home for 90+ years. He knows everything and everyone.
“The Lindblooms? Hannah? Of course!” He told us exactly where the family property was. He told us where on the lot the farm house sat, the barn. And where all of that was in relation to the town dance hall. He even told us which cemeteries our relatives would likely be buried in.
Our hosts had slid us a old regional map with all the original plot lines so we could follow along with his history lesson.
And guess what! That Bed & Breakfast we found ourselves staying at in the middle these aspen woods 15 minutes out of town?
Exactly, directly across the lake from our families farm. All we had to do was walk out of the kitchen and down to the lake and there we were. Staring across at the land our grandparents called home for 50+ years.
Can you imagine? We’d flown out here without actually knowing where we were going, only to find ourselves staying next-door.
And beautiful! Just beyond.
It felt like another planet.
Dennis was right. We found all the relatives we hoped to and more. This Popular Grove cemetery was just down the road and such a beautiful spot.
Look! It’s like you’re buried in the clouds.
This is just a snap of a property we passed on the way into town. It’s got nothing to do with anything other than I’m a sucker for homes with a selection of cars/buses/trackers parked out front…
But back to this Goodness.
I can’t tell you exactly how much this day meant to us. How special it was. How glad we are we went.
And we of course snuck a piece of it back with us—a tiny bouquet of golden wheat from the fields our great great’s called home.