By Jeanette McMaster

 Chiefs from many years ago did not have technologies like the internet, email, or other tools to communicate with other business people. Yet despite this lack of technology they did very well. 

Chief Daniel Manuel Sr. had meetings at his home, in the old homestead by his corrals. He did not have an office, no secretary, just someone who had writing skills who recorded the meetings.

I remember attending meetings with my dad, Billy McLeod. There would be chairs set up, and a table where Chief Manuel and council would sit. No formality, just people gathered to discuss business. 

Their hopes for the people had to have been much like a vision on which they acted upon.

Much as Chief Clarence McCauley did, he had a vision of the people having a co-op, with thousands of heads of cattle. 

His vision was a good one. If the co-op had continued to the present day, our people would be very wealthy and no one would be unemployed or on welfare.

My dad told  Clarence to go ahead and purchase a few head of cattle to start the co-op. He told him, “The vision has a big possibility of success because we, as members of the Upper Nicola Band have rangeland and hayfields, which would provide feed for the cattle.”  

I know this to be true; every member has access to rangeland, and each member back then had hayfields of their own, which did produce hay in abundance.  The membership could have used their hay for winter feed and the co-op would have been a huge success.

I have knowledge of the vision my dad and Clarence had. They used to sit at the kitchen table at night after supper and they would talk for hours on end. 

I would sit and listen to them as they talked about their hopes and their dreams. Our old wood stove would be filled with wood several times; the coal oil lamp would be just about empty by the time they retired for the night. 

The cattle co-op was a dream they both had; their dream was for everyone to own a share in the cattle co-op. Chief Clarence McCauley had a special cattle brand that was registered for the Upper Nicola band. It was official; no one member could claim title to any one head of the cattle. 

It was to be equally shared among all Band membership. Clarence began the Spaxomin Cattle Co. 

When Mrs. Helen Ferguson asked my dad if I could work for her as her companion, my dad took me aside and told me, daughter, go and live among the non-native people, learn from them, take the good things, but leave the bad things behind. 

I did not want to leave my dad or Lena and Clarence, but my dad told me, this is God our Creator opening a door of opportunity for you, go and learn much, then come home and use what you have learned.

That door of opportunity took me on many paths; I worked for Mrs. Ferguson, and as her friend, she taught me so much. From there, I continued my journey. I got married and have lived among non-native people ever since. 

I have never felt like I was different; the people I have met have always treated me with respect. 

I have also made sure my daughters and son know their native history and culture. My life has been very good indeed. 

The many people I have met made it all possible. I later was asked to chair a women’s auxiliary for the union my husband Lloyd was a member of. 

At the time, I was the first native woman to chair such a prestigious group. This union is one of the most powerful in Canada.

After I left my home, I lost track of the cattle co-op. When I did return later, my dad told me the cattle co-op dissolved after Clarence left the office of Chief, which was very sad. 

Had the cattle co-op continued we would have been the very first group of native people to own thousands of heads of cattle, much like Douglas Lake Cattle Co. only we would be the owners. We had the rangeland and everything to be successful people.

Today when I go to my Reserve, I see my dad’s hayfields just sitting there going to waste. 

When my dad was alive those fields were in use. Cattle would be grazing in winter and there would be many head of cattle out in the fields waiting to be fed. 

Today no one has the ambition to be a rancher with cattle anymore. 

The old people like my dad, Clarence, George Charters, Louie Holmes, Alfred Charters, they were the backbone of our community. 

They worked hard and earned a good wage to boot and these men always took pride in what they did.