A multitude of memories spanning many years are gathering in the minds and conversations of folks in the community who will remember Chris Horn as a neighbour and a friend.
This pioneer, longtime rancher, husband and father passed away peacefully on May 25, 2015 in 100 Mile House.
Survived by his wife, Helen, and his son, Gus, and many extended family members, his mark is indelibly etched across the ranching community, denoting a unique and stalwart man whom many are proud to have known.
Christian Horn was born in Ashcroft on June 19, 1922 to Anna (Nath) and Hartwig Horn, and carried by stage to 70 Mile House and then by horseback in his father’s arms to Lone Butte.
The youngest of four boys, he first dug his hands and boots into the soil working for his Uncle
Gus (August) Horn nearby, on land he later acquired and ranched himself.
While working at various jobs for Jack Skaday and Ed Higgins, Chris managed to buy his dream ranch at Horse Lake in 1947. He began clearing it for agriculture while he raised cattle at "Gus Meadow" and courted Helen Granberg.
In those days, Chris rode a horse everywhere he went, including many jaunts to the Granberg home on Holland Road (now Highway 24), and rodeoed at the Flying U Ranch and other local "stampedes."
He married Helen in 1948 on his 26th birthday (she was 24), and they spent virtually every day together for almost 67 years of marriage.
Their son, Gus, was born in 1958. The family moved to the Horse Lake ranch in 1964, and after Gus graduated high school, he stayed on to help run it.
Their life was full of love and laughter, friends and family, hay and horses, cows and calves, dogs and diesel.
Chris got his pilot's licence and loved to fly his 1960 Champion Challenger, often taking along anyone he met who was interested. On wheels and in skies, he delighted in the sheer joy of accessing fields and lakes around the country.
However, tough times also turned up like a bad penny now and then.
As newlyweds with only meadow hayfields near Lone Butte, it was too wet to harvest in 1948 and they were forced to sell the cattle. (Helen notes no one had baled hay or grain for sale back then.)
Chris took the matter firmly in hand, secured a small sawmill and carved out a living in forestry for a few years.
Helen says there were a couple of really terrible times, too.
In mid-1976, Chris experienced a devastating injury when an irrigation pipe he was clearing out contacted power lines, knocking him unconscious for hours. Helen says it was a miracle he survived.
Chris spent about eight weeks in the Vancouver Hospital burn ward, and had deep scars from a pocket knife and all the metal buttons on his shirt and cap, she explains.
Then, another very tough time followed when Brucellosis disease wiped out their entire herd in late 1977.
In 1990, Chris enjoyed a three-day, organized cattle drive to Kamloops with Ralph Bick. His saddle was stolen on the trip, but he turned that event into fodder for many debates on where it went.
Chris also travelled with his close kin to the island of Fehmarn in Germany, where the Horn and Nath families hailed from.
His other significant trips included visiting Machu Picchu, the world's largest stockyards in Buenos Aires, and other South American landmarks, as well as an excursion to New Zealand.
When he ran a land-clearing business for a few years, Chris commuted around a bit and improved "quite a lot of acres" of agriculture land from Clinton to Horsefly and Soda Creek, she notes.
However, day in and day out over the decades, the couple could usually be found somewhere on the ranch.
"I think both of us were pretty low-key," Helen says, adding they were happy with the typically private, if busy, ranch lifestyle.
In a May 11, 2011 Free Press-Cariboo Calling article, Chris states, "We love this ranch and we love ranching – always have."
Helen says Chris never carried a grudge, held a good sense of humour and a short-lived temper, enjoyed people and spending time with neighbours, loved dogs and appreciated horses, and without fail, asked everyone he met "where do you live and what do you do?"
He suffered from Multiple Sclerosis for about 20 years, which saw his mobility decline from cane to wheelchair, and he also battled cancer.
To keep busy in his later years, Chris helped where he could, whether driving the tractor for hours at a time or mixing cookie dough in the kitchen, and brought his much-adored little dog, CD, everywhere he went.
Chris carried on playing cribbage and friendly poker games until a month before he died.
Helen says some folks don't do as well in their twilight years, so she is gratified he maintained his sharp mind and spirit to the end.
"You can't really feel sorry for a life well lived."
With files from Sherry Stewart.