1942

The year my grandparents mother and aunt fled their soon to be occupied home of Estonia. They made a perilous journey in an open leaky fish boat crammed with many of their friends and reletives to neatral Sweden. As with all refugees they were forced to start all over with very little in foreign country in a foreign tougue. Years later they had managed to earn their way to a better life in Canada, settling first in halifax then Winnipeg and finally Vancouver. I came along many years later

This summer my mother, and all of her grandchildren are going to estonia to a song festival held every 4 years. This is a significant event as during their occupation by the USSR they were only allowed to perform in this featival if they sung russian patriotic songs. The Estonian people defied these orders and continued with their own patriotic songs. Many Estonians were sent to Siberia because of this defiance. Eventually comman sense prevailed and Estonia was again free from the shackles of communism . The “singing revolution” had prevailed. This year will be the last time my mother will see her homeland and I would love to be there with her. I would bring my wife to show her where my roots lay. Interesting is the fact that my wife a born and raised Yukoner, I am not , however Estonia is at the same parallel as the Yukon. I now know why the Yukon feels so much like home