The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.2009, Side 23

Vol. 62 #3
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
165
Riverton, Canada!
by Glenn Sigurdson
Riverton was a center of energy. It
started its life as Icelandic River, the origi-
nally designated headquarters of New
Iceland. “The gateway to the north,” peo-
ple liked to call it, and its personality as a
community was exuberant and entrepre-
neurial. First it was the fishing. From north
and south, east and west, men and supplies
would come rolling and stumbling into
town as mobilization was underway for the
next season and the trip to the fish stations
up north on Lake Winnipeg. Then it was
the big tractor trains, first with the
Sigurdsons hauling endless sleighs of gold-
eyes and tulibees to the big company ware-
houses along the rail line and taking sup-
plies and equipment to the Northern fish-
ing camps and Ontario’s Favourable Lake
mine. Later it would become the base camp
for the Sigfusson's winter road empire
across northern Manitoba. The era of big
construction followed where men went
away for months at a time, not in pursuit of
fish, but to build roads and ditches across
northern Canada. In the surrounding areas
many made their living as farmers, and in
the bush cutting lumber and pulp. Women
stayed home, running the kids and the vil-
lage, and the men when they returned.
A busy place with a “lot of comings
and goings,” with a frontier-like feel that
found its way easily into the beer parlours
at the Sandy Bar and Riverton Flotels. This
was not a sleepy village; there was always
“stuff happening.” Some might have called
it a rowdy place with some rough stuff, but
despite its rambunctious exterior, Riverton
had style and spirit and talent. My friend
Maurice Eyjolfson expressed the feelings of
so many so simply- whenever asked where
he came from, no matter how high he rose
or where he was, always responded with a
mile-wide smile and a ringing cry
“Riverton , Canada!”
Nothing epitomized Riverton better
than its ice rink and the efforts to build it.
“Now is the time. Let’s go boys, it’s now
or never,” someone shouted. And another
shout - “There is no better time.” And so,
in the late fall of 1949 the decision to make
a final push to complete the building of a
closed-in ice-rink in Riverton was made.
My Afi, S.V. Sigurdson, the first Mayor of
Riverton, recounted this upon the opening
of the Riverton Skating rink on January 7,
1950. That night the Riverton Skating Rink
joined the railway station, the community
hall, and the big school as the houses where
the soul of the community resided. As Afi
said that night “IN RIVERTON, as in all
towns of its size and economic conditions,
a project such as this can be successful only
when everyone in the community is behind
the effort. It can truly be said that this is a
successful community effort because every
organization and every home in the com-
munity has in one way or another taken a
part in the work. The fundamental reason
for such wonderful co-operation and suc-
cess is the hope and faith that we are doing
something worthwhile for the youth of our
community; that good clean sport will
build better citizens for tomorrow.”
The inspiration for the rink was from
the effervescent mind of Dr. S.O.
Thompson who conceived of the project of
a closed-in rink shortly after the war, like-
ly around the time I was bom in 1947. The
war years had been tough. Many of the
young men from the village and surround-
ing area never returned. My dad was one of
the lucky ones. Building a better future for
the youth of the community was top of the
list on Dr. Thompson’s agenda and he soon
drew many people into his vision.
Contributions of money started to roll in,
but completing the task would not be pos-
sible with available resources without sub-
stantial commitments of volunteer time and
talent. Local crews sourced out tamarack
stands and Chris Thorsteinson’s Riverton
Boat Works transformed them into huge