History

From “New Horizons” - page 799

My father, Cliff Lowry, died peacefully at home April 10, 2002. His ashes are buried in the South Park Cemetery, a beautiful place on the Pembina River, located on a corner of the Lowry farm. There are not many people who are born, die, and laid to rest on the same piece of property. Dad would have been pleased with this situation. He always said he had no intention of leaving his farm. He didn’t.

In the early part of the 1900’s, Cliff’s grandfather and my great-grandfather, Frank “Cougar” Wright, donated a piece of land from the family farm for use as a community cemetery. The upkeep of this cemetery became a family responsibility that we Lowrys, for generations, have taken very seriously. In the family, the cemetery was not called South Park back them. It was just “our cemetery”. My grandmother, Pearl Lowry, Cliff’s mother, took me on charming walks through the cemetery, stopping to relate fascinating stories about the old timers. I especially like the one about Long Scotty. We picked wild flowers and put them on the grave of her daughter, Florence, the aunt I never met. My brother, Denny, would be sent up the hill to cut the grass with a scythe when a funeral was to be held. All male members of the family had to dig graves. It was not a scary task. It was just family duty and a sociable time spent together. I know Denny sometimes talked his teenage friends into assisting in this assigned job. My parents taught us girls that we were to pick weeds at the cemetery if we had nothing else to do on a Saturday. There was to be no lolly-gagging about as long as there was work that could be done in “our cemetery”. And during Mom’s fire drills at home she made it very clear if there was ever a house fire, we were to grab the cemetery book and run outside. As children we knew the cemetery book was about the most important thing we had in the house. There was indeed a fire on October 1st, 1970, and the house burned down, but the cemetery book was saved.

Years after I left home and moved to Vancouver, Dad became a monument salesman and took his new small business to heart. He and my mother, Gladys, installed monuments in many local cemeteries, as well as South Park. He was a stickler for precision, and the perfect rows in South Park Cemetery exist in large part due to his sense on beauty and orderliness.

The annual cemetery clean-up day has become a tradition. On this day, faithful old-timers and a few newer folks come to plant flowers, pick weeds, cut grass and enjoy a country tea together. We don’t do fun things like this in Vancouver, but I feel grateful to know the cemetery is being so well cared for by the community-minded citizens back home.

In 2000 Dad donated another acre of land, which lies to the west of the cemetery. The South Park Cemetery committee looks after things now. Donations, generously given in memory of loved ones, support the cost of maintenance. The grass is now cut with power mowers and gravediggers use the new cemetery backhoe.

The cemetery map has become a computer file designed by Cliff’s grandson Skye. My brother, Denny, continues the family tradition of involvement in the maintenance and up-keep of the cemetery and its map. The cemetery is still a nostalgic place for me to visit. Although I live in Vancouver, I know my history is there, I remember all the stories. I can visit my grand-parents and now both my parents. In the 21st century I now tell my grandchildren stories of their family as we stroll through the place where our ancestors reside.

-published with written permission granted by Lac Ste. Anne Historical Society and Trail Printing and Stationery Ltd., Edson