Nurses Ella Rebecca "Becky" Siteman (later Brown) and Ruth Millar on the steps of the Burns Lake's WMS Hospital along Alaska Way Drive. [~1932].
THE WAY IT WAS: Recollections of Early Health Care Workers
The archives of the Lakes District Museum contain few first-hand accounts of health care delivery in the Lakes District during the early years of the twentieth century. However, three such documents – one attributed to Ella Rebecca Siteman Brown, another compiled by an unnamed health care worker, and a third attributed to Nurse L. Clara Preston – give us a glimpse into the challenges faced by health care providers when Burns Lake was still a very small village on the edge of a vast wilderness.
Nurse Ella Rebecca “Becky” Siteman joined the staff of Burns Lake’s “old log hospital” on Center Street and later married J. S. Brown Sr. She shared a few of her memories of those days in a 1987 interview with museum staff.
“I came to Burns Lake in the fall of 1930, having just graduated from the Royal Jubilee Hospital in Victoria. I came to join the staff of the Burns Lake hospital ... At that time, [it] was a log building consisting of two wards, a kitchen, living room, and one small bedroom. Each had a stove. The staff consisted of one other nurse and a cook. The cook also did the laundry in a small building near where the water was hauled, and the washing machine was operated by hand. The single nurse used the bedroom in the hospital, but the other nurse and cook had a room in a home in the village.
“Water was brought to us in barrels, and lamps were used, as no electric power [was available] at that time. A large pit in the field above was used for the waste from the hospital. A local boy came to bring in wood and keep the wood box full at all times, and all the beds had maternity patients, so the babies would be in cribs in the living room and in the kitchen.
“The nurses worked a 12-hour shift, seven days a week. One doctor attended the patients in the hospital as well as the whole district.”
Becky’s recollections are consistent with those of another health care worker who served here around the same time. The unnamed author, a nurse, had this to say about health care in the Lakes District:
“According to local history, a log house owned by the Carrolls at Decker Lake was dismantled and floated to Burns Lake and then re-erected there, and rented by its new owner to the [United] Church to be used as a hospital until the new hospital could be built,” wrote the author. “It stands to this day just across the street [Center Street] from St. Paul’s United Church. In its three bedrooms, dining room, and kitchen, the hospital carried on. The first nurses in this hospital were Miss Haines, Miss Pringle, and Miss Moore, and Dr. Steele was the first doctor.
“There wasn’t much to work with here, the water was hauled in barrels from the lake, coal oil lamps were used, wood stoves to stoke, slops to empty, outside toilets… In other words, it was quite primitive. There was no nursery for the newborn babies. They were kept in cribs in the kitchen and dining room, where everyone stopped to admire them when passing through to visit, but the babies never even got a cold. There was a matron and one nurse doing 12-hour duty, seven days a week, [and] a cook who did the laundry.
“…In 1932, I joined the staff of the old log hospital. I recall a maternity case coming in. The baby was born prematurely. Looking back, it was amazing how well he progressed. We had no incubator or other equipment, but with the guiding hand of Dr. Holmes and good nursing care, he thrived, weighing a little over two pounds at birth and gaining up to ten before he was discharged sometime later. I will always remember ‘Billie’; he was the darling of the hospital.
“One night, the phone rang just after the arrival of the east-bound train. A very sick young woman was aboard who needed immediate attention. She was brought in, and the staff all called to action, as this was to be an emergency appendectomy. The old dining room table was cleared and made ready, instruments were boiled on the wood stove, dressings were brought out that had previously been made, sterilized in the wash boiler, and dried out in the oven. Our very ingenious Dr. Holmes, in his calm and reassuring way, brought his car to the window, shining the headlights on the dining room table so that he would have light to operate. The operation was a success regardless of the lack of conveniences; not the slightest bit of infection occurred. Here ends the first stage of pioneering with dining room tables and coal oil lamps.”
The nurse in question later transferred to Burns Lake’s ‘new’ 19-bed hospital at the corner of Fourth Avenue and Alaska Way (now Highway 16). The facility officially opened in 1932 during the Great Depression. The timing created challenges for hospital management.
“The Depression days were difficult,” the nurse recalled. “Patients paid their bills with vegetables, meat, and wood. Money was almost a forgotten thing. We always had a good garden, though, and along with donations of homemade jam, preserved fruit, fish, and moose meat, we faired very well.
“We greatly appreciated all the bales of supplies, quilts, clothing, layettes, etc., that came from various groups, many from Ontario. Many a baby went out clothed that would not have had a thing to wear otherwise. Miss Haines often gave quilts and wearing apparel to needy families.
“I also recall the number of mental cases we had during the Depression. Sometimes it was necessary to put police guards on to restrain them.”
Despite these challenges, nursing staff at Burns Lake’s early hospitals had more good memories of working there than bad ones. “Christmas was a happy time,” said one nurse. “We were so thrilled when boxes of lovely gifts would arrive from organizations of the United Church. We always had a Christmas tree and turkey with all the trimmings. Christmas carols were sung, and the spiritual joy of that day was truly felt throughout the hospital.
“The nurses’ quarters were upstairs in the hospital. We were never far from work, always knew what was going on, always getting called back for the extras. Sometimes it was almost a 24-hour day when an emergency arose, and we were called. We were always willing to help with laundry, cooking, and cleaning. It was all in a day’s work, never thought of complaining, or thought we were hard done by.
“The winters were severe back there. I recall the temperature dropping to 62 degrees below zero [Fahrenheit] … One cold night, the radiator burst in Miss MacIntosh’s room, which caused a bit of excitement to say the least. On these nights, it wasn’t unusual to hear a sound like the crack of a pistol from time to time, which was the ice cracking on the nearby lake. Sometimes the hospital would boom, too, but it apparently never did any damage other than loosen a nail or two.
“One nippy morning, I took a purple knitted bed jacket from one of the bales for an elderly [Indigenous] lady to help keep her cozy and warm. She enjoyed it so much that I was never able to get it off of her. The day came for her to go home. She asked to see me and wanted to know if she could keep the little jacket. Miss Haines agreed, and to Martha’s delight, she was able to keep it for her very own. Later, I received a letter enclosed with a beautiful pair of beaded gloves. She thanked me again for the bed jacket, and went on to say, ‘I sent you one present. Maybe you will send me [another] present sometime?”
The nurse recalled another Indigenous patient, a 16-year-old boy named Andrew, who was treated at the Burns Lake hospital.
“He arrived at the hospital from Fort St. James with a bad gunshot wound in his arm. The bone was all shattered and broken, gangrene had set in, and he had lost a lot of blood. It was three weeks before he got medical attention after the accident, as he had to travel many miles by dog team to reach the railroad at Vanderhoof. There, he received first aid from the doctor, and with a note to Dr. Holmes that ‘this was a case for amputation,’ was dispatched by train to the hospital 85 miles west. He was in poor shape to say the least upon his arrival in Burns Lake.
“After careful examination, Dr. Holmes decided to try and save the arm. With many months of special care, Andrew recovered the full use of that arm. He was a wonderful patient, though he suffered a great deal the first few months. We all felt well-rewarded.”
The unknown nurse remembered another boy from Francois Lake who was not so lucky.
“I call to mind the Cowan boy,” she said. “How hard we worked to save his life, then he died so suddenly after we had collected money to send him to Hazelton. Miss Siteman spent nearly a whole day on our phone trying to contact his people at Colleymount. Finally, someone answered the phone at Francois Lake, and when told of the emergency to get the Cowans, three relays went up the lake to get the message through to them. They lived 18 miles up the lake with no communication other than by boat, and the boats in those days were slow. By the time the Cowans arrived, we had laid the child out and performed the necessary duties before burial. In those days there was no funeral home, nor anyone to do those tasks but the nurses.”
A series of stories attributed to L. Clara Preston, who served as matron here after a life spent nursing overseas, paid tribute to the hospital’s support staff.
“I will never forget all our loyal helpers,” she wrote in the May 1952 edition of Missionary Monthly. “The women’s auxiliary, who sewed and mended and made dressings for us. Granny Wilson, who could pitch in and help with patients as well as her own work and made delicious apple pie … Mrs. Don [Marion] Gerow, a faithful worker in the [United] Church and hospital since it first began, and was housekeeper in the hospital for many years, who helped with the nursing and hospital work with great skill … Mr. E. Eckland, who did everything, that is, gardening, lawns, general ‘fix it’ man, orderly, and right-hand man to Dr. Holmes. Now retired, he was really wonderful, and helped us night or day when called.
“I want to pay special tribute to Dr. Holmes. He was so good natured and reassuring, and really wonderful to the nurses,” she added. “He used to come over at night, staying late, when we were alone with very sick patients, especially the maternity ones.”
These stories and others remind us of the sacrifices made by early health care workers – as well as the impact those providers had on residents.
The archives of the Lakes District Museum contain few first-hand accounts of health care delivery in the Lakes District during the early years of the twentieth century. However, three such documents – one attributed to Ella Rebecca Siteman Brown, another compiled by an unnamed health care worker, and a third attributed to Nurse L. Clara Preston – give us a glimpse into the challenges faced by health care providers when Burns Lake was still a very small village on the edge of a vast wilderness.
Nurse Ella Rebecca “Becky” Siteman joined the staff of Burns Lake’s “old log hospital” on Center Street and later married J. S. Brown Sr. She shared a few of her memories of those days in a 1987 interview with museum staff.
“I came to Burns Lake in the fall of 1930, having just graduated from the Royal Jubilee Hospital in Victoria. I came to join the staff of the Burns Lake hospital ... At that time, [it] was a log building consisting of two wards, a kitchen, living room, and one small bedroom. Each had a stove. The staff consisted of one other nurse and a cook. The cook also did the laundry in a small building near where the water was hauled, and the washing machine was operated by hand. The single nurse used the bedroom in the hospital, but the other nurse and cook had a room in a home in the village.
“Water was brought to us in barrels, and lamps were used, as no electric power [was available] at that time. A large pit in the field above was used for the waste from the hospital. A local boy came to bring in wood and keep the wood box full at all times, and all the beds had maternity patients, so the babies would be in cribs in the living room and in the kitchen.
“The nurses worked a 12-hour shift, seven days a week. One doctor attended the patients in the hospital as well as the whole district.”
Becky’s recollections are consistent with those of another health care worker who served here around the same time. The unnamed author, a nurse, had this to say about health care in the Lakes District:
“According to local history, a log house owned by the Carrolls at Decker Lake was dismantled and floated to Burns Lake and then re-erected there, and rented by its new owner to the [United] Church to be used as a hospital until the new hospital could be built,” wrote the author. “It stands to this day just across the street [Center Street] from St. Paul’s United Church. In its three bedrooms, dining room, and kitchen, the hospital carried on. The first nurses in this hospital were Miss Haines, Miss Pringle, and Miss Moore, and Dr. Steele was the first doctor.
“There wasn’t much to work with here, the water was hauled in barrels from the lake, coal oil lamps were used, wood stoves to stoke, slops to empty, outside toilets… In other words, it was quite primitive. There was no nursery for the newborn babies. They were kept in cribs in the kitchen and dining room, where everyone stopped to admire them when passing through to visit, but the babies never even got a cold. There was a matron and one nurse doing 12-hour duty, seven days a week, [and] a cook who did the laundry.
“…In 1932, I joined the staff of the old log hospital. I recall a maternity case coming in. The baby was born prematurely. Looking back, it was amazing how well he progressed. We had no incubator or other equipment, but with the guiding hand of Dr. Holmes and good nursing care, he thrived, weighing a little over two pounds at birth and gaining up to ten before he was discharged sometime later. I will always remember ‘Billie’; he was the darling of the hospital.
“One night, the phone rang just after the arrival of the east-bound train. A very sick young woman was aboard who needed immediate attention. She was brought in, and the staff all called to action, as this was to be an emergency appendectomy. The old dining room table was cleared and made ready, instruments were boiled on the wood stove, dressings were brought out that had previously been made, sterilized in the wash boiler, and dried out in the oven. Our very ingenious Dr. Holmes, in his calm and reassuring way, brought his car to the window, shining the headlights on the dining room table so that he would have light to operate. The operation was a success regardless of the lack of conveniences; not the slightest bit of infection occurred. Here ends the first stage of pioneering with dining room tables and coal oil lamps.”
The nurse in question later transferred to Burns Lake’s ‘new’ 19-bed hospital at the corner of Fourth Avenue and Alaska Way (now Highway 16). The facility officially opened in 1932 during the Great Depression. The timing created challenges for hospital management.
“The Depression days were difficult,” the nurse recalled. “Patients paid their bills with vegetables, meat, and wood. Money was almost a forgotten thing. We always had a good garden, though, and along with donations of homemade jam, preserved fruit, fish, and moose meat, we faired very well.
“We greatly appreciated all the bales of supplies, quilts, clothing, layettes, etc., that came from various groups, many from Ontario. Many a baby went out clothed that would not have had a thing to wear otherwise. Miss Haines often gave quilts and wearing apparel to needy families.
“I also recall the number of mental cases we had during the Depression. Sometimes it was necessary to put police guards on to restrain them.”
Despite these challenges, nursing staff at Burns Lake’s early hospitals had more good memories of working there than bad ones. “Christmas was a happy time,” said one nurse. “We were so thrilled when boxes of lovely gifts would arrive from organizations of the United Church. We always had a Christmas tree and turkey with all the trimmings. Christmas carols were sung, and the spiritual joy of that day was truly felt throughout the hospital.
“The nurses’ quarters were upstairs in the hospital. We were never far from work, always knew what was going on, always getting called back for the extras. Sometimes it was almost a 24-hour day when an emergency arose, and we were called. We were always willing to help with laundry, cooking, and cleaning. It was all in a day’s work, never thought of complaining, or thought we were hard done by.
“The winters were severe back there. I recall the temperature dropping to 62 degrees below zero [Fahrenheit] … One cold night, the radiator burst in Miss MacIntosh’s room, which caused a bit of excitement to say the least. On these nights, it wasn’t unusual to hear a sound like the crack of a pistol from time to time, which was the ice cracking on the nearby lake. Sometimes the hospital would boom, too, but it apparently never did any damage other than loosen a nail or two.
“One nippy morning, I took a purple knitted bed jacket from one of the bales for an elderly [Indigenous] lady to help keep her cozy and warm. She enjoyed it so much that I was never able to get it off of her. The day came for her to go home. She asked to see me and wanted to know if she could keep the little jacket. Miss Haines agreed, and to Martha’s delight, she was able to keep it for her very own. Later, I received a letter enclosed with a beautiful pair of beaded gloves. She thanked me again for the bed jacket, and went on to say, ‘I sent you one present. Maybe you will send me [another] present sometime?”
The nurse recalled another Indigenous patient, a 16-year-old boy named Andrew, who was treated at the Burns Lake hospital.
“He arrived at the hospital from Fort St. James with a bad gunshot wound in his arm. The bone was all shattered and broken, gangrene had set in, and he had lost a lot of blood. It was three weeks before he got medical attention after the accident, as he had to travel many miles by dog team to reach the railroad at Vanderhoof. There, he received first aid from the doctor, and with a note to Dr. Holmes that ‘this was a case for amputation,’ was dispatched by train to the hospital 85 miles west. He was in poor shape to say the least upon his arrival in Burns Lake.
“After careful examination, Dr. Holmes decided to try and save the arm. With many months of special care, Andrew recovered the full use of that arm. He was a wonderful patient, though he suffered a great deal the first few months. We all felt well-rewarded.”
The unknown nurse remembered another boy from Francois Lake who was not so lucky.
“I call to mind the Cowan boy,” she said. “How hard we worked to save his life, then he died so suddenly after we had collected money to send him to Hazelton. Miss Siteman spent nearly a whole day on our phone trying to contact his people at Colleymount. Finally, someone answered the phone at Francois Lake, and when told of the emergency to get the Cowans, three relays went up the lake to get the message through to them. They lived 18 miles up the lake with no communication other than by boat, and the boats in those days were slow. By the time the Cowans arrived, we had laid the child out and performed the necessary duties before burial. In those days there was no funeral home, nor anyone to do those tasks but the nurses.”
A series of stories attributed to L. Clara Preston, who served as matron here after a life spent nursing overseas, paid tribute to the hospital’s support staff.
“I will never forget all our loyal helpers,” she wrote in the May 1952 edition of Missionary Monthly. “The women’s auxiliary, who sewed and mended and made dressings for us. Granny Wilson, who could pitch in and help with patients as well as her own work and made delicious apple pie … Mrs. Don [Marion] Gerow, a faithful worker in the [United] Church and hospital since it first began, and was housekeeper in the hospital for many years, who helped with the nursing and hospital work with great skill … Mr. E. Eckland, who did everything, that is, gardening, lawns, general ‘fix it’ man, orderly, and right-hand man to Dr. Holmes. Now retired, he was really wonderful, and helped us night or day when called.
“I want to pay special tribute to Dr. Holmes. He was so good natured and reassuring, and really wonderful to the nurses,” she added. “He used to come over at night, staying late, when we were alone with very sick patients, especially the maternity ones.”
These stories and others remind us of the sacrifices made by early health care workers – as well as the impact those providers had on residents.
