ODDS’N’SODS — A close shave

In the winter of 1934-35, bush pilot Ted Stull, flying a Fairchild 7l aircraft, made regular runs to the Gods Lake and Island Lake gold mines, which were situated in north-eastern Manitoba.

One day, in early spring, he landed at Stevenson Lake and picked up a trapper, named Fritz, who wanted to fly to Island Lake to sell some furs and buy supplies at either of the two fur-trader stores near the mine.

Upon the pair’s arrival, Ted unloaded his mail bags while the trapper traded his furs for food supplies. As they were loading up for the return flight to Stevenson Lake, however, the trapper inadvertently walked a shade too close to the propeller of Ted’s plane, which had its engine idling in preparation for takeoff. The tip of the propeller hit Fritz and neatly sliced from his chin a piece of flesh about the size of a 50 cents piece. The blow also knocked him unconscious.

Seeing Fritz collapse, Ted rushed to his aid. The pilot carefully turned the trapper on his back and pulled him away from the arc of the still-turning propeller. He picked up the piece of flesh from the snow and placed it back on the trapper’s chin, securing it with a handkerchief. Ted then flew Fritz 60 miles north to the Gods Lake mine, which had a doctor on staff.

Dr. Peter MacGregor, a small, wiry Scot who had recently relocated to the Gods Lake mine from the operation at Island Lake, stitched the flesh back on to the trapper’s chin.

In three weeks, Fritz was back on his trap line, none the worse for his close shave with a propeller. The wound healed, though Fritz would always carry the scar.

— The author, a regular contributor to this column, is a retired operating engineer living in Thunder Bay, Ont.