Although I unfortunately did not keep a diary, I still believe that some of my experiences, especially those of the past few years, are worthy of note for society in general and my family in particular.¹ Hence, I have taken it upon myself to record my memories. It will not be possible to organize everything chronologically, but what I will record shall be a faithful representation of the truth, proof of which can be found in our archives, in old magazines such as the Rundschau, Vorwärts, Herold, Bote, and in the minutes of various church and conference assemblies. I would like to remain objective in my account, and will not excuse my errors and weaknesses. But I pray to God that he give me the grace to fully credit others for their accomplishments, and that he prevent me from judging too harshly those who made my work difficult, through ignorance or wilfulness. I pray, too, that my account will remain accurate and unbiased.

It must have been in the year 1918, or perhaps at the beginning of 1919, that we heard the first news of atrocities in Russia. The war had brought much suffering, the revolution even more. Lenin and Trotsky were in power at the time. Terrible cruelty was attributed to them. We heard news of horrible murders also in the Mennonite colonies. Whole families were reported to have been slaughtered, the Gutsbesitzer (landowners) murdered or driven out, many children orphaned. Then came the news of famine.

The news caused grave concern here, and the question in our circles became more and more urgent: what could we do to help? Gerhard Ens from Rosthern was probably one of the first who received letters from Russia. Ens had emigrated from Russia to Canada in the 1890s and had become an immigration agent for the government. When the North-West Territories were divided into provinces in 1905, he became a member of Parliament for the riding of Rosthern. He therefore had experience with matters of immigration, as well as friends in government and political circles. Since 1913, I had been Aeltester (bishop) of the Rosenorter Mennonite Church in Saskatchewan. It must have been in the summer of 1920 when Ens came to me with some letters from Russia and we pondered the question of what could be done to provide effective aid in Russia. We agreed that I would call a meeting at the Eigenheim church. It should be indicated that Ens was no longer a Mennonite at this time, but a member of the “Church of the New Jerusalem” (the Swedenborgian Church), probably since 1899. Up to that point, I had had very little to do with him. At the aforementioned meeting, the situation in Russia was considered from all perspectives. The poorly attended assembly agreed unanimously that we should do everything possible to help. At the meeting, Ens made the remark that our people in Russia would be absorbed by the Slavs if they remained there. I could not see how we could help get our people out of Russia, considering how poor we were. I also hoped that the situation in Russia would improve. The assembly was unanimous that we had to do everything possible to help out financially over there.

That was my first task: I had to make the urgency of the situation clear [to the Canadian Mennonites], so that they would open their hearts and wallets to their brethren in need. I travelled from house to house in my congregation, and then further afield to other circles. And I succeeded in collecting a very significant sum of money. The various Mennonite churches worked together. In the autumn of 1920, our deacon, Dr. Jacob J. Epp, and I gave our relief work treasurer, C. K. Unruh, about $3,500. This money was then transferred to Levi Mumaw of Scottdale [Pennsylvania], the treasurer of the general relief society of the churches in North America [Mennonite Central Committee]. Our Canadian churches cooperated closely with the relief society in the United States and sent all their money to Scottdale for transfer to Russia. Significant aid was thus provided in Russia.

In the beginning aid could be provided via Constantinople, but there were political complications. There was no progress. I don’t think, however, that the route was changed due to anything that we said or did. But because the goods were stuck in Constantinople, and eventually some representatives (probably Orie Miller and Clayton Kratz) got into Russia, I wrote a letter to Scottdale suggesting we deliver aid through Riga instead. I think that others had already drawn the same conclusion. The aid was consequently routed through Riga.

In 1920, we got the news that three delegates from Russia would come over. Their names were [B. H.] Unruh, [A. A.] Friesen, and [C. H.] Warkentin. I no longer remember whether the name Esau was among them. In any event, he (the former mayor of Ekaterinoslav) joined the delegation, but he didn’t make it to Canada.

The delegates travelled to the US churches first and brought reports of Russia and the situation there. There was a great deal of sympathy for the cause. It must have been the end of July or early August when the delegates came to the border at Portal [North Dakota] and were denied entry into Canada.

I do not know how the news travelled, but in Herbert they heard the word that the delegates were denied entry into Canada. The issue must have been settled by telegraph to Ottawa, and our brethren had their first meetings in Herbert and the surrounding area, because Herbert was the Mennonite settlement closest to the border town of Portal. Brother H. A. Neufeld always claims, publicly and privately, that the real beginning of the immigration work took place in Herbert. If one considers the efforts to get the delegates across the border as the beginnings of the immigration, then his claim is valid. The brethren in Herbert remained very committed to the cause.

Brother Unruh travelled from Herbert to Manitoba, where he went to several meetings. From there, he proceeded to Perkasie, Pennsylvania, where the General Conference of North America held meetings at the end of August 1920. Brothers Friesen and Warkentin came to Rosthern after I had already left for the conference. They held meetings in a number of places here, and then continued on to Drake, and from there they must have returned to the United States. They stayed several days, maybe even a week, in the Rosthern area. When I came back from the conference, I was informed of what had occurred, not all of which was encouraging.

Gerhard Ens had hosted the delegates and convinced them that they needed to be introduced into English-speaking circles. Friesen was an educated man and quickly learned enough English to make himself understood. Ens hosted a banquet in his home, to which he invited the mayor of Rosthern, bank managers, lawyers, and other important English-speaking people. No Mennonites were invited, although they were the only ones expected to provide aid. In Saskatoon, Friesen was introduced to professors and visited the university. In Regina, he was introduced to several politicians. These circles had nothing to do with any relief work. Our people were expected to help and wanted to help, but they were bypassed.

When I returned from the conference, I heard a great deal about this situation. In Mennonite circles in Canada, and, as I later discovered, in the US, Friesen was considered to be proud and unapproachable. I was told that Warkentin had made a number of very tactless comments. The latter was also soon to be shunted to the side by his colleagues. I later had to defend Friesen again and again, which I did willingly, because I saw the good in him as I got to know him.

Because I had received information about how Friesen had been withdrawn from Mennonite society, and how our people had been belittled, I exchanged a few sharp words with Ens. I told him, probably too harshly, that I was not prepared to kneel before the English and kiss their boots! The delegates were sent to seek help from our Mennonite churches. We should help and wanted to help.

Why was the delegate not moving in our circles? Ens wouldn’t speak to me for half a year. He was offended. I should have expressed myself less vehemently. My prejudice against the English originated in the war, when many of our people had been so badly treated by most, but not all, of the English. They had been slighted by the English community, including its leaders. When the soldiers came back, the mob ransacked our church, cursing, vandalizing, throwing the Bible between the pews. They even wanted to lead a cow into the church, saying the cow must also have converted, and then they hung a black flag from the church steeple. I was not home at the time. On the way from BC, I think it was in Moose Jaw, I heard about all this. It made me especially angry that leaders of the community could let such a thing happen, and even participate. This unrest was likely because our young men didn’t have to go to war, and many of them behaved badly back home. I had been given the task of getting our young men out of custody, so their wrath was also partly directed at me. I don’t want to excuse my harsh words, but rather to explain how and why I resented the English so deeply. But let me get back to the real point of these recollections.

I first met Brother B. H. Unruh in Perkasie, Pennsylvania. He said that he had read my appeals for aid in the newspapers, and wanted to accompany me to the conference. I didn’t know anything about his plans, and he didn’t know when and how I would travel there.

I had not heard anything unpleasant about Brother Unruh, but I had heard how extraordinarily talented he was. His lectures left a deep impression everywhere, and I heard from everyone how he could mesmerize people. At the conference in Perkasie, he talked about the red horse in Revelation 6:4. I did not speak with him again in Perkasie, partly because I was busy with committee work. He was also travelling on to another conference of American, English-speaking Mennonites, accompanied by a young Epp from Henderson, Nebraska, who served as his interpreter.

I therefore did not get to know Unruh better. What I had seen of him made a good, but not decisive, impression on me. Soon after the conference, he returned to Germany, where he has remained since, and has supported the Mennonite colonies in Russia where necessary. In the first years, he was regarded as the representative of the Russian Mennonites and was to some extent remunerated by them. Then the Dutch committee undertook to remunerate him for one or two years, and since the beginning of the year 1927 he has represented and been paid by us. I will recount his activities in Germany a little later on. Friesen and Warkentin kept travelling through the United States and Mexico to study the situation and the possibilities for settlement. These travels were financed by a committee in Kansas and J. W. Wiens from Hillsboro was asked to accompany the men. These trips were very expensive and did not produce any practical results. At the end of 1920 and the beginning of 1921, Friesen was apparently in Bluffton and also in Philadelphia, where he was especially busy putting a good word in for sixty-two young men who had served in the White Army against the Bolsheviks. These young men had stayed in Constantinople for a while and had eventually made it to the port of New York, where they were denied entry. M. H. Kratz, a famous Mennonite lawyer, had tried to intervene on their behalf, as he told me later. He also told me how presumptuous Friesen often was towards him, etc. Peter Jansen, from Beatrice, Nebraska, a man who had many friends in political circles, worked very effectively to facilitate the immigration of these young men. Other people and committees also worked to this end. In Washington, people grew tired of the issue. When a non-Mennonite came to the minister [official] concerned regarding another issue, he responded angrily, “Are you here over the Mennonites again?” For a time, it seemed as though all our work was for naught and that the young men would be sent back into misery. Later, however, they were allowed entry.

Obstacles to Immigration

The delegate A. A. Friesen returned to Herbert, Saskatchewan, in the spring of 1921. Why, I do not know. In any event, he had become convinced, during the course of his travels, that if our people could be brought out of Russia, they should come to Canada – provided we could get permission. He had gotten to know H. A. Neufeld earlier, and his nephew Herman H. Neufeld, presently [1934] the editor of the Mennonitische Rundschau, and Friesen’s former student and friend, was staying in Herbert at the time. From Herbert he probably corresponded with his friend Gerhard Ens, here in Rosthern, who came to me one day to ask that Friesen be invited to Rosthern. I was not in favour, because I saw no point in it. The ministers in our congregation were of my opinion.

In the spring of 1921, the question became more pressing. Could we do something for our persecuted brethren in Russia, in order to help them find a new homeland? The news from abroad was so awful; our people could not remain in their terrible misery. However, there was an order-in-council, in effect since 1919, which forbade Mennonite immigration to Canada.

As long as this order-in-council remained in effect, Mennonite immigration to Canada was out of the question. Under these circumstances, we had to find a way to lift the ban. I can no longer remember who called the meeting, but I think it was A. A. Friesen. I travelled to Herbert, but I no longer remember with whom. The meeting was held in the Herbert church either in May or June 1921. I spoke in favour of attempting to get the immigration ban lifted, but I thought that it was hopeless to try right away, because there was a federal election coming and the parties were in the midst of a heated campaign. The election was going to be held in the fall. Furthermore, our conference was supposed to be held in Herbert in July, and the Mennonite Brethren conference was to be held in Winkler, Manitoba, at the same time. To avoid wasting any time, we brought the question to the conference. The suggestion met with general approval. The meeting concluded harmoniously. Nonetheless, it was already noticeable that there were fears in our Mennonite circles over the question of the immigration of our brethren from Russia. These fears were voiced when we spoke of sending a delegation to Ottawa.

At the end of our conference I was re-elected chairman, as I had been since 1914. I was firmly for the idea of sending a delegation. When the matter came up for discussion, all pertinent questions were dealt with. I didn’t hurry the process along, because I saw this as a matter of great importance, and I didn’t want it to be said later that the decision was made in haste. It took half a day to discuss the question. A certain Brother Thiessen expressed his amazement that a half day had been devoted to the issue. Eventually, it came to a vote, and out of sixty people, only two voted against sending a delegation. The others were all in favour.

The vote in Winkler followed. As it was reported to me, there were fourteen votes in favour and twelve opposed. The delegates from Waldheim had reserved the right to have their own congregational meeting and telegraph me the result in Herbert. Before our vote, we received the following telegram from Waldheim: “Joint meeting July 5th Rosthern district decided not to support decision of Manitoba conference in any of the following questions: advance of money guarantee morally and financially for emigrants from Constantinople nor delegation to Ottawa. David Dyck, Chairman.”

At our conference we voted for sending a delegate. It was proposed that I go, but I refused, because of my workload in the church. Brother H. Ewert was in the East at the time, where he was visiting the so-called Old Mennonites. I suggested that he be sent to Ottawa as our delegate. This proposal was accepted. It meant a big saving and Brother Ewert was generally considered to be a suitable person for the job. It was also taken for granted that Brother Friesen accompany the delegation, because the matter concerned our brethren in Russia, and who was better informed than he? But where to get the money? I guaranteed Brother C. K. Unruh that he would get at least $100 for the relief fund from our congregation, if he would give the sum to Friesen. He agreed.

The Mennonite Brethren churches near Herbert were also in favour. They decided to send H. A. Neufeld as their delegate. I promised my full support. From Ontario, the delegation was represented by S. F. Coffman of Vineland.

The result was as expected. They went to see Sir George Foster, the acting prime minister, who questioned them in detail. Then the delegates met with Mr. William Lyon Mackenzie King, leader of the Liberal Party. He promised that if the Liberals were to come to power, he would see to it that the immigration ban on the Mennonites was lifted. He was aware of the Mennonites and knew that they were among the finest citizens of the land.

Brother Friesen went from Ottawa back to Bluffton. The other delegates returned home and reported what had happened. It was hence clear that nothing could be done until the political situation had been clarified by an election. At this point, I must explain my personal situation. When I had been elected Aeltester of the Rosenorter Church in 1918, I had continued to teach at our educational institution in Rosthern for a few years. I was not only busy with my teaching duties, but also responsible for fundraising for the school, as well as serving as its secretary and treasurer. At the same time, I also had to look after my church. I came to realize that I could no longer carry on in this way, without having both the school and the church suffer for it. Furthermore, I have to admit that I am not very good with finances. I was able to drum up promises as well as anyone else, and then optimistically believed that the payments would follow. However, this was often not the case. I was inexperienced in bookkeeping and not meticulous enough. Many didn’t pay the money they had pledged, and some hard-up students did not pay. With the money that eventually did come in, I had to satisfy the other teachers. I got what was left over. The school went into debt and I was very worried about my own income. I realized that this could no longer continue. I quit my job at the school and wanted to dedicate all of my time to the church, which I hoped would support me. I was deluding myself. Then I thought that if I purchased land cheaply and subsequently sold it at a profit, I could still devote nearly all of my time to my church work. I wasn’t careful enough in my choice of land. I was easy prey for the real estate agents. I sank deeper into debt. The situation became nearly hopeless. I had debts everywhere and had no hope of ever paying them back. I was still granted credit. People believed in me and took me for an honest man, but it was a heavy burden for me to bear. In this hopeless situation, I had to carry on my church work, and look after the school, financially and otherwise. I was also the head supervisor for local mission work. I had a lot of cares, worries, and heartache. At that time, Isaak P. Friesen wrote a promissory note for me. Because I couldn’t pay it back, and my creditor threatened to take me to court, Isaak Friesen paid the debt, which I then owed to him in turn. Friesen was a well-off man, who had a better business sense than I. He had wintered in California for many consecutive years, and I believed that he would and could shoulder my debt. I must admit that I did not pay enough attention to repaying this debt, as I had so many other duties. When serious differences came between us regarding the immigration, our relationship became strained and he reminded me repeatedly of my debts. He then wrote me letters. In one of them, he accused me of not wanting to repay him. I wrote him back that it would be the happiest day of my life when I could repay him.

But back to the point of these memories. The federal election had taken place in the fall of 1921. The Liberals had won. William Lyon Mackenzie King had become prime minister. Now the time had come to do something about lifting the immigration ban on Mennonites.

In the light of the political circumstances of the day, the success of the delegation was all but guaranteed. Mr. King, the new prime minister, had been brought up in Waterloo County, Ontario, surrounded by Mennonites, and he had already promised the first delegation that when the Liberals took over, they would lift the immigration ban. He had already said, and would often say again, that Canada had no better citizens than the Mennonites. Mr. Stewart of Edmonton was the immigration minister. He had come to know the Mennonites in the East and had an appreciation for them. Mr. Motherwell, the MP for Melville [sic, Regina], in Saskatchewan, knew the Mennonites in the West and confirmed that they were good citizens, capable of looking after themselves in adverse circumstances and without outside assistance. They had complete success in Ottawa. They were promised that the immigration ban would be lifted and we were encouraged to take the necessary steps to start the immigration process. Mr. Stewart gave the delegates’ letters to Mr. Beatty, the president of the Canadian Pacific Railway company, and to Colonel J. S. Dennis, the chief commissioner of colonization and development for the CPR.

The name Colonel J. S. Dennis appears here for the first time in our history. He had become acquainted with Mennonites as a young man. He belonged to the crew of the International, the ship that brought the first Mennonites to Manitoba on the Red River. He knew of the difficulties they had had with locusts, flooding, and frost. He also knew of the $100,000 loan that the government had guaranteed the Mennonites, which had been paid back within ten years.

Later, Colonel Dennis became deputy minister of public works in the North-West Territories, based in its capital, Regina. He held this position until 1902. He later became the chief commissioner of the CPR and lived in Montreal. He had a military appearance, with a keen gaze and an imposing presence. When I first met him in 1922 he was about sixty-five years old. He knew Gerhard Ens from his time in Regina, when Ens was a member of the legislature.

Colonel Dennis was asked on what terms credit could be obtained to help our brethren from Russia to come to Canada. The matter was new to him, but it was reported that he spoke to the appropriate officials and later told the delegates that things could be arranged, but that the terms would have to be set later. The report of the delegates sounded much more favourable than the contract later was. The officials of the Canadian Northern Railway had also spoken to the delegates beforehand, but were not in a position to specify the terms. When the reports were brought to us, we were happy that so much had been accomplished.

At that time I had in my possession many letters from H. H. Ewert, who insisted that I should become a member of the committee responsible for the immigration question. I refused, writing again and again that I could not be a part of the committee. I was thinking of my straitened financial circumstances and of my work in the church. On top of that, I had no experience with the sort of questions that would emerge in this kind of situation. I promised to support the committee in every way, but I did not want to become a member of it.

Then came a letter from Brother Ewert, announcing a meeting of the committee in Gretna. The meeting was to be held in May.

At this meeting there was a lengthy discussion about how to house the immigrants when they came. Here, too, there were a number of irritating comments made. Brother Ewert had a plan whereby a number of locals would guarantee the debt of an immigrant family and would provide them with shelter. H. A. Neufeld and Gerhard Ens believed that this approach would be too difficult, and that many could be put up in Herbert and Rosenort. There was no agreement on this point.

Two plans were then put forward regarding the financing of the undertaking. Brother Ewert had the following plan: The Old Colony Mennonites were intending to go to Mexico, and it would be a good idea to buy their villages for the expected wave of immigrants. He believed that the locals would be so generous that they would provide enough money to buy a village. A mortgage would then be taken on that village in order to buy the next village. Then the second village would finance the third, in the same way. And so it would continue until all the villages were purchased. The Waisenamt would act as a bank to broker the deal, looking after the business end of things.² The first obstacle was that it would have been impossible to raise the requisite $150,000 from the locals to buy the first village. Secondly, many of the lands were already mortgaged, so we couldn’t have borrowed the full amount. And thirdly, it was impossible to find a credit union to lend us that much money. The other plan was devised by Gerhard Ens, who had asked the lawyer A. C. March of Rosthern to work out the details. This plan entailed setting up a joint stock company with a working capital of $10 million. With this money, land and equipment for all the immigrants would be bought. They in turn would owe the joint stock company for it. It was believed that the Mennonites could raise the $10 million, and I, too, in my excessive optimism, agreed with this view. We felt we were entering into a very advantageous banking arrangement, and I cannot say that we were totally free of notions of self-interest. We never imagined that there was no one among us with the business acumen and the ability to deal with such a large sum of money. We also had no idea that our people would not unanimously support this plan. Large sums of money can be raised by our people for purely charitable causes, but when things smell of a business deal, the Mennonite is sufficiently suspicious to reject it.

Both of these plans were discussed at the Gretna meeting, and everyone but Ewert supported the second plan.

When it came to a vote regarding who would be chairman of the Canadian [Mennonite] Board of Colonization, I was elected, at the suggestion of H. H. Ewert, despite the fact that I had not yet agreed to be a member of the committee, and Rosthern was designated as the seat of its business activities.

A. A. Friesen was named secretary and treasurer, with a monthly salary of $100. Gerhard Ens and A. A. Friesen came to Heidelberg [where Toews was teaching elementary school] to relate the news to me and held out the prospect of a salary. Although I had kept myself out of the picture, I can’t say that this was an unpleasant solution. I was known to some as a successful teacher. Nobody appeared to perceive my imperfections in the way that I did. Furthermore, the prospect of more responsibility was very tempting, especially since I could work from home.

On the day of the first meeting in Rosthern, I formally accepted the position of chair of the committee, and because I was to have received an income of $1,400 in Heidelberg in the coming year, I was offered the same salary. I said that I would be satisfied with an annual salary of $1,200. My salary was thus fixed at $1,200 per annum. At that meeting, it was also decided that we make formal contact with the CPR in order to bring over our brethren from Russia. As chairman, I sent my first official telegram to Colonel J. S. Dennis in Montreal, to ask him to send us an offer, which we would then examine and possibly sign. I have already mentioned that the contract, when it arrived, was not as favourable as the delegation had led us to believe. I should perhaps add that not everyone in the administration wanted to grant us credit. It was likely due to the good reports that Colonel Dennis made about the Mennonites with respect to their reputation as good and honest farmers that President Beatty was won over. Sir Augustus Nanton of Winnipeg, who as principal partner and president of the firm Osler, Hammond & Nanton, and of North of Scotland Mortgage Company, had had many business dealings with Mennonites, gave them his endorsement and, in his capacity as director of the CPR, supported the deal. On a later visit to Winnipeg, he told me that his company had not lost one cent in its dealings with Mennonites, with the exception of one [man] in Waldeck, Saskatchewan, who was no longer a Mennonite, as far as he knew.

Mr. Ogden, the financial vice president of the CPR, was against granting the loan and called the prospective agreement “one of Colonel Dennis’s crazy ideas.” I was told this later on.

It is therefore understandable that Colonel Dennis didn’t prevail with all of his ideas and plans. Ticket prices were significantly higher than we originally thought – $140 per person instead of $100, which G. Ens had first indicated – and the payment dates were much earlier. In light of our poverty and our great responsibility towards the company and towards our congregations, I was almost afraid.

But first, there was a conference in Winkler, Manitoba, and a debate. This conference took place in early July 1922. Present were Brothers Jacob Kroeker from Germany, J. W. Kliewer, from Newton, Kansas, and Gustav Enns from Kansas. I was again chairman of the conference. When the immigration question came up, Brother Ewert explained his aforementioned plan. I then explained ours, that is to say, the one devised by Mr. March to form a joint stock company. I managed to explain the plan in a calm and collected manner, while Brother Ewert became quite agitated. He exclaimed, “I have nothing against Brother Toews, but the other members of the committee [the Canadian Mennonite Board of Colonization] don’t want to consult the constituency, and I cannot work with them.” Subsequently, P. P. Epp, of Altona, Manitoba, was elected as a member of the Board. The conference voted sixty-four to two in favour of our plan.

A Decisive Crisis

At the meeting, I asked whether I could sign the awaited contract when it arrived. Everything was quiet. Then I asked again. Everyone was silent. Then I asked a third time. No answer. A Brother Hildebrand from Winkler timidly asked what Brother Ewert had to say about the matter. Then I got scared, because I believed that Brother Ewert would answer in the negative. But he remained silent. Then I did something that later made me the target of bitter accusations. Perhaps and probably it was a mistake. I said, “For the time being, the Rosenorter Church will take the responsibility, until other congregations join us.” Brother Johann Gerbrandt from Drake, Saskatchewan, then said that I could count on them. A minister from the Zoar Mennonite Church in Langham said that I could also count on them. This man caved in quite quickly when he went home and faced the opposition – swaying like a weak reed in the wind.

At the conference meeting, there were two ministers present from our church. Both were very prudent financial managers, and numbered among the most successful businessmen in our church. Both of them were very pessimistic and suspicious by nature. With my remark [about the Rosenorter Church taking responsibility], I had given these men and others means to sow and nurture seeds of mistrust in our congregation towards me and the immigration. When I came home from the conference, I was met with great anger; the opposition was in full swing, and it was growing. In Rosthern, a petition was circulated that sought to forbid me from signing the contract. Some of my best friends had become sharp critics, and our formerly good relations never completely returned to normal.

The contract came and was not what we had expected. The members of the Board were called together. We were all disappointed and the committee often sat up late into the night to read and consult and couldn’t come to a conclusion. With this contract, the company undertook to send two ships, the Montreal and the Scandinavian, to Odessa. We were supposed to get the passengers to the port. They were to be well fed on the ships and later on the trains, with simple but good food. For each trip that the ships made, we were required to pay $185,360 for the Montreal and $184,520 for the Scandinavian. It was estimated that the Montreal could accommodate 1,324 passengers, and the Scandinavian 1,318 passengers.

The costs for passports, visas, passage, and the like were to be our business. The costs for children were less. The terms of the agreement were unfavourable, to the point that we all knew that we would not be able to meet them. The first payment of 25 percent was due within ten days of receipt of the bill, a further payment of 25 percent was due within a quarter of a year, and the last payment within a half year. I was the first to see the contract, and said to myself that we could not fulfill the terms of the agreement. I also had no idea how we would start to meet other terms of the contract. The Board was convened. We often sat until late at night, reading, conferring, and wishing the contract could be totally different. Those assembled included H. A. Neufeld, C. J. Andres, P. H. Wiebe, P. P. Epp, A. B. Wiebe, of Herbert (not a member of the Board), Gerhard Ens (also not a member, but particularly interested), A. A. Friesen, and I. The little office attached to the customs office was made available to us by Mr. Hodson. The meetings were opened with prayer. At one of the first meetings, Friesen asked me if he could smoke. I, with too much goodwill, agreed, and afterwards, Friesen and Ens ensured that the office and later also a bigger office on the first floor of the Bank of Montreal were clouded with smoke. This became bothersome, particularly in view of the fact that I saw our work as an act of salvation. In large meetings and in writing in the papers, I referred to the salvation of our Russian brothers and sisters as our Christian duty. Although my efforts were not without results, they were in stark contrast to the stench of the air in our meeting rooms. I talked about this contrast repeatedly, but was met only with derision. Why didn’t I take a firm stand against it? Why didn’t I? Public opposition grew quickly and vehemently, and soon developed into enmity towards us personally and towards our cause. At the beginning, I was only attacked because of my colleagues, Friesen and Ens. When I defended them, I was personally attacked. That pushed me more and more into their company. But back to the contract. Our discussion continued and it was almost impossible to come to a conclusion. I was deeply convinced that we would have to accept the bitter pill if we wanted to help our people, but to take on $370,000 of debt without knowing if the required number of passengers would show up in Odessa made it hard to come to a decision. On top of this, there were other difficulties, including our poverty and the open hostility among our people. I was convinced, however, that we would not be able to get better terms. On the other hand, everything in me balked at the thought of signing a contract which I knew we couldn’t fulfill. At one of our meetings, Gerhard Ens demonstrated how the Doukhobor leader Verigin would talk to Colonel Dennis about this sort of matter, to get a better deal. It was consequently decided that Gerhard Ens would come with me, because it was felt that he could get an agreement on better terms. As it turned out, he was no better than I in this regard.

At that time, Pastor Jacob Kroeker of Wernigerode, Germany, visited Canada. He attended our conference in Winkler and his sermons made a deep impression on us. He also came to Saskatchewan. We heard that he would be giving a sermon in Hepburn one evening. Gerhard Ens, A. A. Friesen, and I went with a few others. The big church was packed. Kroeker gave a powerful sermon. His sermon made a deep impression. He also spoke of the plight of the Mennonites in Russia and of our mission.

After the service, Brother H. A. Neufeld came up to me and said that we should sign the contract, even if we couldn’t get better terms. C. K. Unruh said that he thought the ice had broken. Unruh was perhaps the only man in Hepburn who was for us. He was a second cousin of Benjamin H. Unruh.

The next Sunday was Missionsfest in our congregation in Eigenheim. Another big meeting. Kroeker preached there too. I believe he also referred to the situation in Russia, but I no longer remember. I talked to the assembly and said, among other things, that in accordance with our beliefs, we would have to do something to help our people in Russia escape. We had the opportunity, right now, to help approximately three thousand of them, and we shouldn’t back off out of fear. I asked for their prayers and told them not to be afraid, and not to be afraid that I would sign something which would bring anyone harm. I realized, again and again, how seriously people viewed this undertaking, and how unsure they were about it. The fear of some turned into hostility. Many well-meaning friends were also afraid. Even those who were friendly towards me made discreet inquiries as to whether this would put them at risk. This fear and hostility can be partially explained by the planned formation of our joint stock company. The charter, which was certified by Ottawa some time later, was good for $10 million. Some friends, especially Gerhard Ens and the lawyer March, made careless remarks. They spoke of the very high salaries which would be paid out, of expensive office furniture, etc.

The contract with the debt of $370,000 and the million-dollar project were confused and mixed up, and ill-meaning pessimists did their best to increase the opposition and mistrust towards us. The anxiety can also be explained by the fact that our planned joint stock company would have to be incorporated, and our church was incorporated as well. People believed that if I, as the Aeltester of the church and president of the company, signed the contract, each member of the church would be personally liable. It didn’t help when I explained that in any corporation, liability can only be assumed through a duly passed resolution, and then only the assets of the corporation are liable, not the assets of the individual shareholder. I repeatedly stressed this fact. Furthermore, I said, “Do you think that the CPR has any interest in ruining old farmers and businessmen in order to bring other poor people into the country?” why My arguments didn’t help very much. One successful businessman in particular claimed that the opposite was true, and people believed him more than they believed me. Again and again, people claimed that if the immigrants were brought over, they would not be able to pay, and they themselves would be stuck with the debt. Furthermore, they did not believe that things were so bad in Russia. People would have been more willing to send more aid to Russia. But from Russia, there came more and more urgent requests to get the Mennonites out, or they would perish. As confirmation, we heard terrible stories of murder and expropriation and expulsion. If I had considered things from a business point of view, then I would have decided not to undertake this initiative, given my incapacity to deal with such matters. Even in the United States, where people were soon to hear of the project, they believed it to be unworkable. People took pity on me, they warned me, and in some places, they were bitterly hostile towards me. Some particularly cautious people were also afraid for themselves; even in the United States, we had almost no friends with respect to the planned project. On July 24, 1922, Gerhard Ens and I left for Montreal to deal with the contract. When we arrived in Saskatoon and went to Mr. Gerow’s office, he told us that he had received a telegram from Colonel Dennis indicating that we shouldn’t bother coming if we hadn’t signed the contract. The contract was put in front of me for my signature in Saskatoon on July 24, 1922. The purpose of our trip to Montreal had been to acquire better terms. That is why Gerhard Ens was sent to accompany me. I hesitated to sign for that reason. Ens seemed to have no objections, but he was also not responsible. He advised me to sign. Taking into consideration the advice of Brother H. A. Neufeld in Hepburn and of Gerhard Ens, and in the knowledge that I would sign even without having negotiated better terms, I signed my name to the fateful document and we travelled on to Montreal.

When we arrived in Montreal, we checked into the Ryan Hotel across the street from Windsor Station. The hotel was unsatisfactory. Later that morning we went to Colonel Dennis’s office. Mr. Dennis greeted us warmly. I was introduced to him as Bishop Toews, and despite my protestations, the title stuck. It always seemed too presumptuous that a lowly person like me should hold such an exalted title. After our introductions, the Colonel took his briefcase out and read us many complaints, which had been sent to him from Rosthern and Hepburn. Colonel Dennis looked at us and asked sternly, “How is that?” Gerhard Ens clarified that these letters came from insignificant people. I said nothing.

In the afternoon we went back to him, and I told him that the affair was a matter of trust, and asked him if he agreed. He answered that he completely agreed. Then he read us his responses to these letters. He went on to describe what he knew about Russia, and also what he knew about the Mennonites who had immigrated to Canada in the 1870s – how they had received government loans and subsequently honestly repaid them. He assured us that the CPR had never agreed to such a contract with any other group apart from the Salvation Army. Then he outlined the plans for bringing people over. Later, another telegram from Hepburn arrived, on behalf of a large assembly of protesters who had met there on July 26. I asked Colonel Dennis if this protest would hinder the fulfillment of the contract, to which he replied, “No, not in the least!”

I drove from Montreal to Bluffton, Ohio, where Quakers, Tunkers, and other branches of the Mennonites were meeting to discuss questions of nonresistance and peace. I hoped to have the opportunity to discuss our project with them. I was promised time, but they almost forgot to include me in the agenda. I reminded them and got the opportunity to say a few words. Whether they helped or not, I do not know.

Before the evening meeting, I spoke to P. H. Unruh in private, and the following conversation ensued: Unruh: “What are you brethren in Canada doing?” Me: “About what?” Unruh: “Don’t you know that the Russian Mennonites have renounced nonresistance?” Me: “I don’t know that. I only know that they are in need and I see it as our duty to help them. The Samaritan saw the plight of the man who fell among the murderers. He didn’t ask about his past life, he just helped him.” Unruh: “And don’t you know that A. Friesen is not a believer?” “I don’t know that either. He attends worship services and I have heard him make no remarks that would indicate he is an unbeliever or a modernist.”

When I came home, D. H. Bender from Hesston, Kansas, and J. W. Wiens from Hillsboro were there to meet me. They had come to look at the contract and the charter. We had a meeting that evening and the following day. The contract and the charter were thoroughly studied and discussed. Late the next evening, Heinrich and Peter Lepp from Dalmeny and P. J. Friesen from Hepburn demanded to have the contract read before a public meeting. We told them that we would be happy to read and explain it to whoever was interested or to have it read and explained by someone trustworthy, but that we were not allowed to let the contract out of our hands.

On August 12, there was another big meeting of protesters in Hepburn. They sent another telegram and a long letter of protest to Montreal. In the letter, they said that the meeting had been called to read the contract, and that we had not allowed attendees to acquire a copy.

As I mentioned earlier, we had not wished to make copies of the contract or to let it out of our hands, but we offered again and again to read the contract ourselves or have it read by someone else. This was obviously not the desire of those who wanted to make trouble.

I think it was on February 10 that I left for Kansas and Oklahoma. It was cold outside. Gerhard Ens accompanied me to the train station in a covered sled. I was supposed to drum up support in Kansas for the project and the $10 million contract. I felt inadequate and unequal to the task, but the attempt had to be made. No one else could do the job. H. H. Ewert, who would have known how to go about this better than I, and was very influential in Kansas, had declined any cooperation, as he deemed the project to be impracticable and un-Mennonite.

I arrived in Elbing, Kansas, on a Sunday. As I had not announced my visit, no one was at the station to meet me. It was a sunny, dry day. I took my suitcase and walked towards Newton, hoping that someone would pick me up on the way. And soon, someone drove by and was kind enough to do so. My first stop was at Bernhard Regier’s. My arrival was totally unexpected, but I received a warm welcome. He was under the impression that Brother Ewert had started this project and passed it on to me when it became too much responsibility. This was a mistake. Brother Ewert had resigned for different reasons, to which I have already referred. He is not the type to give up when the going gets hard. The next day, Brother Regier drove me to Newton and then on to Hesston, where I wanted to meet D. H. Bender, president of Hesston College and chair of the immigration committee [the Mennonite Executive Committee for Colonization (MECC)]. In Newton at the First National Bank, I bumped into P. W. Enns, who had a large dairy near Bethel College. He greeted me with the words, “What are you doing up there in Canada? You are chasing a dream. What you are trying to do is impossible.” In Hesston, we had to wait at the college for quite a while. The teachers were having a meeting. Reverend Yoder from Iowa was also there. A. A. Friesen had especially recommended him to me. It was a great pleasure for me to be able to meet him. Gustav Enns was at the conference in Winkler in 1922 and had expressed a real interest in the project. I looked forward to meeting him and expected he would be understanding and encouraging. Yoder was supposed to be at Enns’s for dinner.

When the meeting was over, the men came to the president’s office. Bender greeted me warmly. Yoder was introduced to me and was also very friendly. Enns seemed more distant, which I could not understand, because he had been so friendly and enthusiastic in Winkler. Bender promised to call a meeting of the committee right away. I indicated that I also wanted to speak with Brother Yoder. That took me to Enns’s house. I no longer remember whether he invited me or not, but he might have. At the beginning, the conversation was about questions I was more unfamiliar with. Then I talked to Yoder about the need in Russia and about our project to bring the poor people over. Yoder kindly invited me to Iowa and promised to introduce me there. Enns had remained silent at the beginning, but suddenly he exploded. Missionaries should be sent to Russia. Many of the Russian Mennonites were responsible for their own suffering. And Molotschna was the home of modernism. He would not want to raise his children in Halbstadt, where he had been. In Alt Samara there were no complaints about poor treatment. Everything was normal there. This was confirmed by his wife. I was completely unprepared for this. I no longer remember what I replied. The experiences of these first days discouraged me. I had expected support, especially from Gustav Enns, and found opposition. What else was coming? I was depressed. Then I thought of H. P. Krehbiel, whom I considered a man of great ideas. I went to meet him and we talked about the project. He said that the entire General Conference did not have $10 million between them. Then he got lost in details about founding a possible settlement. He gave me no encouragement.

I put my hopes in the [MECC] committee meeting, which was supposed to take place in the Midland National Bank. The day came. D. H. Bender, J. W. Wiens, William J. Ewert, and H. E. Suderman were there. Soon after the meeting began a few land agents arrived as well. Naturally, I had to make a presentation about the project. Then they talked about possible settlement areas in the US. Mr. Reeves and Mr. Faltz spoke of settlement possibilities in Texas and Washington, despite the fact that they knew that the United States was closed to immigrants at that point. Faltz said repeatedly that Colonel Dean in Topeka had promised him that he could arrange all this. We had four or five similar meetings. There was no progress. The land agents were always present.

I was despondent when I thought about my work. I probably would have done better had I left the committee. There was no plan and no progress to be made.

One evening I was invited to speak in the Alexanderwohl church in Goessel, and then there was another committee meeting. We decided to drive to Spokane, Washington, where land was available. Maybe I should have gone back to Canada, but Mr. Faltz and possibly the other wealthy landowners paid for the travel expenses and I had a free ride for most of the way. The prospective land sellers were a Mr. Groves, president of the Old National Bank, and a Mr. Farr, owner of several sawmills.

We visited Gustav Toews, a very successful mill owner from Spokane. We had to visit him in his home. His wife is an American. They had a Filipino servant waiting on the table. He told us a lot about the land. He was not as optimistic about it as Mr. Groves and Mr. Faltz were.

It was on the last day of our stay that Bender, Suderman, and Wiens visited Mr. Groves in his office again. An option on land was signed. It had all become too much for me. Mr. Farr invited us to have lunch in what was reputed to be the best hotel west of Chicago. If that was the case, I do not know. All I know is that it was very good. I do not remember what we had to eat, but I remember something about the conversation. Bender was leading the discussion. Bender said to Farr: “Of course, if this goes through, that Canadian contract is going to be cancelled.” Toews: “Oh no, that Canadian contract is not going to be cancelled. Bender: “Well, what security can you give?” Wiens: “They may be able to give security for ten dollars.” I didn’t answer. This short conversation told me everything I needed to know.

The only thing that I achieved was to have a general assembly meeting called in the auditorium of Tabor College, Hillsboro. (In the meantime, I visited churches.) Brother C. E. Krehbiel had returned from Russia and that gave me hope that it would be a good meeting. The day of the meeting arrived. I drove from Whitewater with Johann Epp, Heinrich Thiessen, and Johann Andres, of Elbing. It had rained and it looked as though it would rain some more. Despite the weather, the large hall was packed. I think P. C. Hiebert spoke first. He had been to Russia as well. He said, among other things, that if our forefathers had had a reason to leave Russia, that was even more the case now. I thought that this statement would be helpful. Krehbiel spoke calmly and soberly about the type of project this was and about the distribution of donated clothing. I had hoped he would speak with more passion. I was disappointed. Bender then spoke about a plan I no longer recall.

This plan was described by a teacher Toews from the college as “the biblical way.” I think I spoke before Bender, but I am not sure. I only know that when I stood up to speak, the weather worsened outside, but I don’t think that was the only reason that half the audience walked out. I outlined the situation in Russia as it had been described to me in letters, and spoke about our plan to help them emigrate. There followed a meeting, about which I remember only a few remarks. P. W. Enns from Newton stood up and spoke of the dream we were chasing and remarked, “I don’t even know how you sleep at night, after signing such a contract.” I answered, “I have slept well ever since I signed the contract. But if I had missed the opportunity to sign it, I would not have been able to sleep well.” The meeting was over, and all my hopes were dashed. Deflated, I headed home from Elbing that very evening.

A Miracle Occurs

When I got home from Kansas, there were Board meetings. I made a report. We were all convinced it would be a waste of effort to try to sell enough shares to enable the charter to function. Some were even for cancelling the contract. Ted Nickel said impulsively, “Well boys, we are beat. Let’s cancel the contract.” Several others agreed. I said, “No, I think we must honour the contract. If the movement doesn’t happen, at least we won’t have to blame ourselves.”

Later I read a letter from Aeltester Isaak Dyck of Chortitza, indicating that they knew how things were going here, and that our reputation in Russia was sinking. There was also a letter from D. H. Bender to A. A. Friesen informing him about the founding of the “Colonization Board” [the Mennonite Colonization Board]. Our [Canadian Mennonite Board of Colonization] board members A. A. Friesen, P. P. Epp, C. J. Andres, and H. H. Ewert were to sit on this new board. There were separate committees for billeting, transportation, propaganda, etc.

Friesen wrote to Bender: “I want to use you for those coming by way of Quebec and I want to use Orie Miller for those coming by way of New York.”

It seemed as though Bender thought that he could get rid of our organization with a letter. I had to wonder at his presumptuousness and also at his incompetence. No credit had been arranged and the immigrants were not legally allowed to immigrate to the United States.

B. B. Janz was also informed about this “new organization.” In a letter ostensibly written to A. A. Friesen, he expressed his joy that an organization had finally been founded which had the trust of the people. I did not hear anything more about it. It obviously foundered, which was to be expected. This board was supposed to replace our organization. Why, even its founders hardly knew. The way into Canada was open, the one into the United States was closed.

In the meanwhile, in Russia there were still some obstacles. It is not clear why the Russian Mennonites believed that the obstacles were over here. The obstacles were over there, and as soon as they were overcome the work could begin. When I went to Montreal for the second time, Colonel Dennis told me that there were reports of a cholera outbreak in the Odessa area. Also, the situation in the Dardanelles was so unsettled that they could not send any ships there.

As a result, a plan was hatched to travel via Riga. The biggest obstacle was that it would cost a great deal more money to bring the emigrants to port via this route and that most of the people had no money.

When this matter was settled, the Russian government declared that it would not let any emigrants back into Russia if they crossed the border and were rejected due to illness. The committee in Germany found a solution to this problem by persuading the German government to take in the rejected emigrants and keep them in Lechfeld until they were well enough to travel. Outbreaks of trachoma and tuberculosis were of particular concern. Germany seemed to fear neither. There were many difficulties involved with the acquisition of exit permits. Here we almost gave up hope of success, despite the fact that we had done everything possible and necessary. Our opponents started mocking us. One minister even did this openly from the pulpit.

Then, in June 1923, we heard indirectly from Jacob Niebuhr in New York that the first group was almost ready to go. P. H. Unruh, from Goessel, Kansas, who had been granted wide-ranging authority by the Russian Mennonites, got the same message from B. B. Janz. We did not hear anything. We knew nothing. At the beginning of July 1923, we were at our conference in Langham when I received a telegram forwarded to me from Colonel Dennis, indicating that 750 people had left from Chortitza. In Langham we had already discussed the immigration question. H. H. Ewert, C. E. Krehbiel, J. J. Balzer and P. A. Penner were all there. There was so much to discuss, after all that had happened, so very much. Brother Krehbiel had in the various churches described the situation in Russia and our relief efforts in such an emotionless tone that some of us did not know what to make of the letters we had received, which described the situation as so desperate. Brother Krehbiel was against the immigration and probably wanted to dampen enthusiasm for the project through calm and factual presentation. He probably hoped the situation would improve. Then the telegram came to me. I announced it immediately. It provoked a mixed reaction, but the news did not create any visible excitement.

In the face of all the obnoxiousness I have encountered since 1923, I have had to recall what Brother P. A. Penner told me at the time: “The immigrants will some day turn against you even more aggressively than the locals do now.” Back then, I could not imagine such a thing. Today, in 1934, I believe it might happen. Many good and faithful people, whom I can always trust completely, have since immigrated. But there are also others. I hope that they will stay a minority. We followed the progress of the train with great interest, and as closely as possible. We got news from Moscow and then from the Latvian border. A full 25 percent of the passengers were rejected, mostly due to trachoma. They were not allowed back into Russia, and also could not continue on to Canada. We were very depressed. I wrote a very sharp letter to Ottawa. We had been told that passengers would be subjected to an easy inspection, and now it seemed as though it was as strict as it possibly could be. Mr. Blair, usually a very kind man, a good friend, and a true Christian, told me when he visited me: “You would have more luck ramming your head through this stone wall than trying to get those trachoma patients into Canada.” Apparently, they were more afraid of trachoma than of smallpox. There was no negotiation, only healing would do. Even trachoma scarring would not be allowed. There was an overabundance of caution and fear. The German doctors were immoveable in their opinion. This created a lot of work, worry, and additional cost for us. Among the passengers, there was disappointment and the pain of parting yet again. In Germany, they were very warmly received by the officials. Gerhard Ens and P. P. Epp were delegated to greet the first group. They drove to Montreal, then on to Quebec, where they met the first boatload, who had come over on the Empress of France. At this point, many of our opponents started getting nervous.

They tried to influence people to refuse to take in the immigrants, saying, “If you take them in, you will be held responsible for the contract.” There were only a few who sank low enough to do such an awful thing, but there were some and they found an audience. Most people were fortunately open to our reassurance, and a great many were persuaded to practice hospitality.

We invited a number of leading figures and explained the situation to them. It was clear to us that we would have to accommodate the large group, and we were happy to do that to show that we would not shirk any work or responsibility. It was thought that the immigrants capable of working would help with the harvest for a regular wage, and pay as much as possible on the travel debt (Reiseschuld). We would supply them with clothing, and food and lodging would be covered by their hosts. In many cases, this is what happened, but in some cases, things did not go so well. The fault lay sometimes on one side and sometimes the other.

The above plan was communicated to all and after that the brethren sought lodging in their respective communities. Some communities were avoided, partly because we were afraid of their negative influence, partly because there was no willingness to take anyone. I then turned to various places in the United States for used clothing. Gerhard Ens did the same in Church of New Jerusalem (Swedenborgian) circles. Then we tried to plan how the reception would happen.

It was on July 19 that we received a telegram from Gerhard Ens from Ignace, the central station between Fort William and Kenora, that the immigrants were en route. I do not know why he did not telegraph us earlier. According to our calculations, they would be arriving at about noon on July 21. We telephoned all the hosts and continued to wait, during which time we tried to work through all the details.

Then another telegram arrived from the CPR, asking us if we could pick the immigrants up in Saskatoon. We saw the great difficulty that would pose. The roads were not good, and willing participants would have to travel fifty to sixty miles to get there. It would also cause a stir among the English people. Then we got word that the train would come to Rosthern. Likely the CPR and CNR couldn’t agree on the terms whereby a CPR train would use CNR tracks in Rosthern.

July 21 came and we were already waiting for the train at noon. We had only vague information about where exactly they were. I don’t remember when we got the news that the train had arrived in Saskatoon. The cars gathered from far and wide in Rosthern. We had never seen so many people or cars in Rosthern as on July 21, 1923. We all waited anxiously to see when and how this great event in Mennonite history would play out. Flags were flying on many businesses. At about five o’clock in the afternoon the long train with ten passenger cars and three baggage cars arrived at the station. There is a big square north of the station and east of the tracks. The train went there and 608 immigrants stepped out and congregated on the square together with their hosts and many locals. A choir of immigrants sang the beautiful song “Gott gruesse dich! Kein andrer Gruss gleicht dem an Innigkeit” (May God greet you! No other greeting is so warm), etc. Then I announced the chorale “Lobe den Herren, den maechtigen Koenig der Ehren” (Praise the Lord, the mighty king of honour). Looking at this crowd, I found the verse “In wieviel Not hat nicht der gnädige Gott über dir Flügel gebreitet” (In what time of need has our merciful God not spread his sheltering wings over you) of particular significance. We were all deeply moved at the sight of those who had suffered starvation and persecution. Once wealthy, they had arrived without means. The task now was to make a fresh start under completely new circumstances.

The impression of the crowd was that they were poor and destitute. The mere sight of them brought many to tears. A returned soldier, an Englishman, confessed he could not hold back his tears. They sat on their bundles and suitcases and awaited their fate. The locals went through the rows and picked out suitable families, which were then registered, together with their host families. There were six orphans from one family who thought they might be split apart. I said that they must not be separated. Whoever wanted them would have to take all six of them, at least temporarily. They were all taken in by Jacob A. L. Friesen in Tiefengrund. These orphans were talented children who could sing beautifully and had a good upbringing. The Friesens loved those children and treated them well. I do not know what happened to all of them. Several are married. Two passed their teaching exams and work as teachers. Not long ago, they sent me their regards. Now, in 1934, they are all grown up and self-sufficient, even though it has often been hard for them in these difficult times.

The Nikolai Dyck family was the last to be chosen. The family was too big for everyone. They had eight or nine children. Then Peter Thiessen of the Zoar church in Langham arrived and took them with him. Brother Thiessen was not small-minded or cheap; he was a man of principle. A few days later, A. A. Dyck, brother of Nikolai Dyck, from Didsbury, Alberta, picked up his brother and family.

Ingrid Moehlmann is a great-granddaughter of Bishop David Toews. She is a leader and key organizer of the Memories of Migration: Russlaender 100 tour. Lothar Moehlmann, Ingrid’s husband, is a professional tour manager and specializes in leading tours involving musical and sports groups in western Europe. Ingrid and Lothar live in Winnipeg.

1. In 1973, the fifty-year anniversary of the beginning of the Russlaender migration, the Winnipeg-based Mennonite Mirror published significant excerpts of David Toews’s memoir of his Russian immigration work, written in 1934. It was serialized over over seven issues (Feb., Mar., Apr., May, Oct., Nov., Dec.). This is a translation of that German text. ↩︎
2. The Waisenamt was a church institution developed in Russia to administer the estates of orphans, widows, and widowers. It also accepted deposits, serving the function of a small savings bank or credit union. ↩︎