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As they bounced along the road on their return journey, however, Lars softened his stand a little.
With a five-foot-round monster and a few of its younger cousins in tow, he had to admit he was
impressed. _ | | |

Clair Giggey was a “self-made” man, a hard worker who operated a successful business in the
depression years through sheer will power and a 15-hour-plus work day. There may be, Lars finally ©
admitted to himself as they lurched through the entrance to the mill, a few lessons to learn here.

Monday, September 1, 1930. Lars was beginning to settle in to the Northwest routine. As |
promised, Clair had made sure a supply of rough lumber was available to Lars, and he had already
begun to construct a small cabin. He couldn't, after all, afford to keep his wife and child in-the Ter-
race Hotel for long. _ ne

It was evening. The sky was beginning to darken. The married men had long since left for
home. A few of the younger, single workers idled around the stove in the mill office playing check- .
ers, Lars, though, a long day’s work behind him, was busily stacking lumber into the back of a
wagon and transporting the precious cargo to the site of his new home.

While loading the wagon for the third and final time, he noticed something unusual. There
was an unmistakable smell of smoke, alarming ever though he was upwind of some burn-
ing waste. Fire. A logger’s greatest fear. Lars quickly scanned the rough building housing
the mill machinery. Smoke. “Fire!” he screamed at his best volume. . .

Lars was doing his best. to douse a pile of smouldering sawdust with =. mg
buckets of water when he was joined by the others. In disregard of their best
efforts, though, the flames took hold and the mill burned to the ground.

Clair was furious. His quick temper flared. How had it started? The fin-
ger was immediately pointed at Lars. He was the only person near the mill at
the time. “You're fired,” Clair screamed at Lars. But true to his nature,

Clair woke a despondent Lars in the morning and asked him why he
wasn’t on the job.

“On the job?” Lars asked incredulously. “What job? Even if you hadn't
fired me, there’s no mill.” |

“Forget all that... There’s work to be done.”

“What work?”

And with that, a bond was formed between the two men that would last a
lifetime. Clair apologized to Lars. He might have started the fire... but it was
unlikely. And it no longer mattered anyway. Clair had decided to rebuild
east of Kalum St. alongside the railway in town. A bigger mill... A better
mill. Lars was learning fast that the rumours of Clair Giggey’s energy and
resilience were no myth.

Lars worked hard on the new mill throughout the winter. By Febru-
ary, Clair had appointed him construction boss. By April the mill was da
open, and Lars, it appeared, had a bright future there. He wouldn’t stay, ee e
though. His first love was the forest. He ;
would drift from one logging show to another
seeking a forest of his own. In the spring of
‘33 he found that forest. And on March 10,

1934, he bought it.

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