Order Of St. Ann Dawson City

The accompanying photo, sent to me by Mimi (Schmidt) Scoretz, of the last group of sisters of St. Ann to serve Dawson City, was taken at the Schmidt Mine on Dominion Creek in 1963, the day before they left Dawson for good.

It shows Mom, Marion Schmidt, at the top, Mimi in the middle, and Stewart holding the gold pan (still mining today).

The nuns in quaint garb are each holding a souvenir nugget to give to their elderly patients, many of whom took part in the great Gold Rush.

The Mother Superior, Sister Ignatia, in white head covering sadly died in a car accident on the way out of Whitehorse.

The story behind these ladies is quite interesting as their work covered from 1898 o 1963.

They were invited by Father William Judge SJ, to help run his new log St. Mary’s Hospital.

Although they were to arrive in the fall of 1897, they did not arrive until the next July because of travel conditions, which kept them in Alaska, where the order was working in missions along the Yukon River

Meanwhile, the heroic Father Judge struggled by himself to run the hospital through the winter of hardship: a food shortage, a typhoid epidemic, influenza and many cases of scurvy.

One famous victim was Jack London, who survived a miserable winter on Stewart Island and was treated at the hospital for scurvy.

Summed up in the words of R.W. Service:

The lone trail,
Sometimes it leads to the Northland,
And the scurvy softens your bones,
And your flesh dents in like putty,
And you spit out your teeth like stones.

Father Judge, exhausted from his labours, died at 49 from influenza in January, 1899, and was subsequently called the Saint of Dawson by the grateful miners.

Today, many Catholics hope that someday he will be honored by Rome for his selfless work.

The Order of Saint Ann, French Canadian in origin, came earlier to Victoria, B.C., to start schools, and then expanded its work into Alaska.

Dawson became their home for over 60 years. Their work at St. Mary’s Hospital, the farm at Sister’s Island and St. Mary’s Day School was of great benefit to Dawson.

One bright graduate student who was taught French, music, and business skills was Victoria Faulkner. Ahead of her time, she went from her first job as secretary for Joe Boyle to working for most of the Yukon Commissioners.

She was fluent in French and could take dictation in it. She also enjoyed speaking with the French miners, and would often visit Madame Emilie Tremblay.

She played the organ at the church and, as a side line, peppy music during the silent movies.

Back in Victoria, the work of the sisters continued in the areas of nursing and education.

One who benefitted was the painter, Emily Carr, who died in the nun’s St. Mary’s Priory on March 2, 1945.

The Superior purchased the James Bay Hotel and used some of it for a nursing home.

Carr would be amused to know that the building was sold again and is now the James Bay Inn; the lower floor where she died is now the pub.

The Order of St. Ann, whose numbers were over 600 in the 1960’s, has gone down dramatically.

The formidable St. Ann’s Academy in Victoria is now a museum.

The writer is a long-time Whitehorse resident historian and author.

ORDER OF ST. ANN REKINDLES MEMORIES

by Ione Christensen

The article above brought memories of early childhood.

I was four years old and always seemed to have a cold, so Dr. Duncan in Dawson advised my mother that taking out my tonsils would be the best solution.

We were in Dawson for a month visiting with my grandparents so the operation was scheduled.

The Order of St. Ann’s were the nursing sisters who worked in the Dawson hospital, and I was given into their care the evening before the surgery. Our first problem was they wanted me to change into a nightgown.

“No, only big ladies wear nightgowns; little girls wear pyjamas!”

And I had mine with me. No amount of persuasion could change my mind. So pyjamas it was, and I settled down for the night.

Surgery patients were on the second floor. Sometime around midnight I woke up and, realizing where I was, I decided it was time to go home.

Very quietly, I slipped out of the room and went down the stairs to the front doors. But alas, they were locked!

I shook them violently and started to cry waking many of the patients and bringing a sister in full billowing back habit down the hall to recover me.

The next morning was a repeat of the nightgown vs. pyjamas argument. Even a walk down the hall, so we could look out of the window at the chickens the sisters had in back of the hospital, could not change my mind.

It was only when I got into the operating room that Dr. Duncan was able to persuade me of the wisdom of a nightgown for this very special event—an event which, by the way, was almost my demise.

I was allergic to ether, the only form of anesthetic available at the time.

My heart stopped and I can remember to this day that long walk down a dark tunnel towards a very bright light, but waking up just before I go there.

The most unusual part of that walk was a nickel which was rolling down the path by my side! The only association of a nickel I can think of is that is how much it cost me to buy candy at T&D Store in fort Selkirk, where we lived.

Perhaps I was being reassured that I would have the financial wherewithal to purchase candy in my next life!

My other association with the good sisters was in the instruction of playing the piano.

My mother had taken lessons when she was young, to no avail, but she had hoped I might have better luck than she did. I took lessons for two years, 1940-41, but I followed in her footsteps and was not the musical protégé she had hoped for.

The Sisters of St. Ann were a very active and important part of Dawson City for many years, and very special pioneer women who are sometimes forgotten.