Writing the Self 1:
This is Home
As a small-town resident, I often find myself feeling rather nostalgic, especially during times of transition throughout our petite community. Every area seems to tell a different story. Then there are the stories that your town is known for. Stories where people exclaim curiosity and fear once you tell them you are from a town that once housed Canada’s largest mental hospital. Some called Souris Valley Mental Hospital names such as “The Mental” and “The Looney Bin”. This notorious psychiatric facility once housed over 2500 patients with various mental and physical disabilities and it lay on the outskirts of Weyburn, Saskatchewan, my only known home thus far. Of-course without proper knowledge in a previous time, Souris Valley Mental Hospital was a very fearful place and it also was known for some of its questionable practices such as the use of LSD for mind and behavioral analysis. Today this huge piece of history lay beneath the pages of many stories in many books since its demolition in 2009. Houses, a park and a condominium now occupy the land of where Souris Valley once operated. I live here amongst the rubble and memories of Souris Valley, I live in what now is called Riverwood. To feel nostalgic is one thing but to dwell on the site of what once was the home of so many lost souls and stories left untold is a difficult emotion to explain. Mainly an abundance of curiosity consumes me in regards to what once took place on these grounds and what lead to its destruction after it’s monstrous construction. Before “the big move” to Riverwood took place, I admittedly had my doubts on how I could feel at home out in the area most often referred to as ghost town and the place of “Hangman’s Shack”. I was delighted to move into a newer home and once I arrived and un packed I accepted my surroundings with peace and an open mind. Whatever conspiracies or stories that have floated around the community about Souris Valley suddenly became less scary and more colorful to the land despite some of the tragedies. Once happy to call Riverwood home, I looked out the south facing window and noticed a neighbor constructing the most elaborate outdoor hockey rink. A dad with his kids in tow, cutting lumber and setting up spot lights and laying out tools to pour the water to make ice. To me it does not get much more Canadian than this. Knowing you get to live in an area with such bold history and to make you feel not only in touch with your community but with your country as a whole. I felt at home at this time. Weyburn is home to me.