Fred Chafe – Gander Pioneer

By Frank Tibbo

It was 1937. Fred Chafe was reading the newspaper in his home in St. John’s when he noticed an advertisement for an electrical supervisor at the Newfoundland Airport. He had moved his family from Harbour Grace in 1935 to work for the Great Eastern Oil Company as an electrician. After WWI, during which Chafe had been wounded while fighting as a member of the Newfoundland Regiment, he had been working as an electrician in Bell Island, Harbour Grace and now St. John’s.

An electrical power plant was about to be installed at the Newfoundland Airport (later named Gander) and the Aerodrome Control Officer, H.A.L. Pattison, (Pattison Place, Gander) needed help. Mr. Chafe applied for the position and was successful.

Frederick G. Chafe (1893-1982) remained in Gander until his death 45 years later. He helped form the Great War Veterans Association (GWVA), a forerunner of the Royal Canadian Legion and was also the first Worshipful Master of Gander Masonic Lodge.

Mr. Chafe was the Superintendent of Electrical Power Services in charge of three power plants and the associated staff. He and his family lived in one of the few houses on Chestnut Street.

When he retired from the Department of Transport, he was appointed manager of the first liquor store in Gander.

The following is from a handwritten account by the late Mr. Chafe:

“I arrived on Gander, then known as Newfoundland Airport, at about 5:00 a.m. on October 27, 1937 and was shown where to report by Max Chambers who had returned from a holiday in town (St. John’s) by the same train. Reg Bursell was electrical foreman hired under Mr. Paton (better known as Nick).

After getting breakfast at the mess-hall at 6:30 a.m. I spent most of that day settling into my quarters which amounted to a top bunk in a tar-paper shack, no. 15. The bunks were built from 2 x 4 and P & T (ploughed and tongue) board and for $1.00, one secured a so-called mattress from stores, stuffed with hay and guaranteed to break your back. Blankets were also supplied at stores and there was an unusual number for one person to have. Sheets and pillows were an unknown quantity.

I met the electrical crew that day, amongst whom were Bobby Mercer, Dennis Penny, Bob Moores, Cecil James, Mike Woodford and others. At that time Bob Schwarner was here from Washington installing the field lighting set-up, Beacon, Wind Tee, Control Dish and Switchboard. The main switch board for what is now known as No. 1 Diesel Plant had arrived a few days before and I was put at work checking wiring and connecting the panels on that, which I followed to its conclusion.

Occasionally I would go out on a cable splicing job in a ditch full of water and which would probably be reached by traveling through mud a foot, or more, deep. There was considerable rivalry with the various pairs as to who could complete their splice quickest and I particularly recall one instance when I was in an extremely bad area and Bobby Mercer finished his splice earlier. He forgot to look for me when the truck arrived to take us home to supper and I kept on working until my splice was completed, then traveled to the road and hooked a ride to camp in another truck. Meanwhile Bobby had found that I was missing and had gone back looking for me, spending an hour searching for me, finally arriving back at camp to find me enjoying a nap on my bunk.

I intended in the early portion of this story to tell of how we ate, washed etc., in those days. Every employee had his own enamel wash-basin, which he picked up on his return to camp after work, also his towel soap, etc., and walked out to the wash room, about three doors away where water was kept heated in some empty oil drums with open heads over a wood and coal fire. One dipped out what water he required and tempered it with cold water if necessary, returning to a space if any available on a bench which occupied the wall space around the shack. If you needed a shave you brought your mirror and were extremely lucky to be able to see sufficiently well to get a clean shave.

Of course as there was nothing to do after supper except be in your bunk and read or have a game of cards with some of the crew, shaving was only considered necessary when one's beard began to get so hard that it took one hour to get it off. If one wanted a bath you went to the wash room, secured a galvanized wash tub of about 10 gallon capacity, filled it and stood up in it and scrubbed yourself down to the best of your ability. Possible there would be another five or six men doing this at the one period. One thing nobody had to bother about then was fear of any women coming in as they were an unknown quantity on the airport.

Our toilet facilities consisted of a few outside toilets on the other side of the railway where one froze to death in the winter and was bitten to death by flies in the summer. Messing arrangements consisted of sitting on a hard bench at long tables in the Mess hall, bringing along your own enamel plate and mug, knife, fork and spoon, and dipping into a basin of soup or whatever was for supper and helping yourself. Bread was sliced up by the Mess boy and he filled your tea or coffee mug for you. If you managed to get in early you got a warm supper, but if you were late you took what you got and liked it.

Sundays made no difference to life in the camp as everybody worked all day, the only relaxation being the arrival of the Overland Limited (train) about 7 p.m. during the summer when every man in camp appeared at the station to have a look over the passengers and then to wait for Bert Stone, who was Station Agent and Postmaster, to call out the mail. This was lovely on fine evenings but if weather was bad it was pretty uncomfortable half an hour waiting for your name to be called for a letter.

After this one went back to camp, climbed into bunk and sat up and wrote your letters in reply. I was fortunate enough to have to suffer conditions described for a period of three months only, and then getting a move to a camp near the railway station where Cecil James and I had a space of about 10 x 12 to ourselves.

The only disadvantage was that we had to walk about a quarter mile to the Mess hall for our meals, consequently we often missed our breakfast. By this time we had our Power House completed and in operation and the old 10 kw generator (known to Dennis Penney as the Javenator) had been condemned.

 

contributed by F. Tibbo