A beautiful poem by Jerry Mihailoff was written and dated August 9, 1986. Uncle Mikes Farm was a heartfelt retrospection of Jerry’s life experience on Mike Kosheiff’s farm. The poem is page 13 and 14 of 27 in Val Thiessen’s Kosheiff/Nasedkin Part Two of the Author’s Blog on therussianrefugees.ca website.
Through the facebook group page The Russian Refugees I have been able to connect with many descendants of the 116 original Russian refugees, including Jerry.
Given it is 37 years to the day he wrote the poem, I asked Jerry to share his thoughts with us all again. I believe his note to us captures the sentiments of many of us being proud Canadian descendants of the 116 original Russian refugees.
“Mike,
Thanks for the acknowledgement of my poem to my Uncle Mike’s Farm. When I read it again and again over the past number of years, I still drop a tear of joy. Isn’t it ironic that in the after math of a major stock crash and during the uncertain days of the second world war; I spent the most memorable and joyful days of my childhood in the arms and the farms of my loving and caring Russian immigrants.
I was born in 1938, in a hamlet called Gage. Population of 8. Two grain elevators, a general store and my father’s blacksmith shop. Mike Mihailoff (24) and Viola Nasedkin (17) were married in 1934. That’s just 10 years after they arrived in Canada. I am amazed when I think that I was born only 14 years after the Russians landed. I am so proud of my parents, and so many like them; who turned hardship and uncertainty into opportunities that generated such prosperity for their families. We were there for the post war era of the nifty fifties. My parents became loyal Canadian citizens, business minded entrepreneurs and community participants in so many venues. It was an age of renewal and we children became so fortunate to receive all the benefits of their vision and action. I am so grateful to have been a descendant of this group of 116. So many memories. So many stories.
Dede Baba Homestead house. Grey mud and straw chinking between the log strong walls. Veranda; laden with hops for home made beer (braga) nemnoga! Loving hugging Aunts and Uncles.
Horses Cows Pigs Chickens Ducks Geese Dogs Cats. Such an exciting playground to discover for a young child’s energy.
Hot red fiery forge. Ringing anvil and angry trip hammer. Wagon rim trough. Shoeing horses. My Dad the smithy. Black in face and strong like bull. Model T Ford. The buggy. The cutter. Big Red. The caboose with a stove in the corner.
Pumff Pumff Pumff ….the Deere single stroke engine. The glass full of orange liquid high above my head. Hand pumped above to fill the Ford below. The smell of leather and rubber on oiled wood floors. The candy jars and ice cream with real Orange Crush. McConnell’s general store next door. And my first BB gun. Red Ryder of course.
I could go on and on. And God willing I will. But for now, join me in drinking a toast to Mike and his family for starting this journey of appreciation for our ancestry. Perhaps many of us can meet in person at the planned reunion in Homeglen next year. I understand there will be more on this at a later date.
Stay well and Keep smilin’
Jerry Mihailoff”
Hi Jerry, I remember all what you said as I also grew up in Gage. I remember going to celebrate our Christmas & Easter & then going to celebrate the same with all your families a week later. You & I went to the same classes in school. I rode in the apple box (Vic Nasedkin’s) school bus.. I really think that we grew up in the best years.
Thank You Naemi. I remember you well. Your bothers; your Dad and especially your Mom. She was always smiling.
What great childhoods we had. What a beautiful place to discover our youth. Hopefully we can share a hug at the upcoming reunion in Homeglen.