Photo above: The Pirtti (house) purchased by John Anderson in 1911. Left to right is Milja Anderson, Olavi Anderson, John Anderson, Alex Anderson, Bill Anderson, and Tony Anderson. Photograph was taken in 1914. Anderson Collection #265. Sointula Museum.
This Valentine’s Day, we’re sharing three excerpts from A Home of My Own, a 1951 article by John Anderson (writing under his pen name, Sepän Poika—“Blacksmith’s Son”). Anderson’s story captures not just the hard work and resilience of Malcolm Island’s early settlers but also the humour and warmth of a growing partnership.
John first arrived on Malcolm Island in 1906, a year after the breakup of Kalevan Kansa. He returned in 1909, drawn by the sea and the promise of a fresh start. Persauding Emilia (Milja) Latvajärvi’s to join him, these excerpts share how their relationship took root in Harlem, New York, and so did their plans for a home in Sointula, British Columbia.
A sincere thank you to our dedicated team of translators: Vern Aro, Sisko Salo and Loretta Rihtamo for their work in translating this article from Finnish to English. Thank you as well to John Anderson’s grandson Andy Anderson for providing additional photos and information.
Excerpts from A Home of My Own:
At First Sight
I finished one long and hard day’s work and rested in my shirtsleeves in my room in Harlem which I rented from my old friend. The doorbell rang on the wall near my bed and my landlady friend said, “go young man to the hallway to open the door. Probably a friend is coming to visit”. That was the right guess. When I pressed the button to open the door I was greeted with a ‘Howdy-do’ by a well-fed young lady wearing glasses. ‘English speaker she is’, I thought, so I took off quickly, up the spiral staircase back to the third floor. But she was just as fast. When I got to the door of my room my landlady shouted “Hello Milja. I guessed it was you by the way you rang the bell.” At that moment I was introduced to Milja Latvajärvi . I couldn’t escape to my own room to get properly dressed. I became acquainted with Milja in my stockinged feet and that acquaintance continued all the way to large Russia and to Finland and all the way to Malcolm Island.
New Beginnings
We thought of it then as silly talk, but then we also talked of important issues for example.. Finland, our old homeland. The language difficulties of maids and sailors and their other problems in this new foreign country. The evening was spent with great fun at the coffee table reminiscing about good old times. Our dating started from this evening. I worked all winter for that same sign shop, and in the spring even got a raise in pay. But once New York’s heat wave began, work on the scaffold was unbearable. Memories took me to the cooler ocean climate of British Columbia. There I had spent a few summer months in 1906… or in other words, the year after the breakup of Kalevan Kansa.
The sea was still calling, but Milja assured me the land is steadier, so in May I packed my bags and headed west. After spitting in my palms and with a piece of sausage in my back pocket, I was on my way. After a couple of weeks, I was dusting the soot off my boots on Malcolm Island and admiring the dirty faces of my energetic compatriots and their songs:
‘The west is a land which will feed its own
but the weak are driven away.’
Life was no child’s play for these penniless pioneers who had to survive by working with their own hands. Land had to be cleared for one’s home amid the giant stumps which had to be burnt. So Sointula was born with good Finn Sisu.
Photo above: John Anderson and Milja Latvajärvi in Stanely Park, Vancouver, circa 1912. Courtesy of Andy Anderson.
A First Look at Home
Most of this time I was working at Banff, Alberta where C.P.R. was building a hotel. Before the ended, I persuaded my lady friend to join me in Banff. Banff was a famous place and coming here didn’t mean such a big change. Later in Vancouver we were still discussing her move here. Then on a rainy day before Christmas we arrived at Malcolm Island’s Sointula.
We visited with other villagers for a few days waiting for better weather before I dared to show her the Pirtti. The path along the beach from the village to the Pirtti was almost one mile. It was wet and muddy as it most always rains at this time of year. I bought her rubber boots for walking.
“And now we are getting close to the Pirtti. Its roof is now visible above the young spruce.” She admired this sight. “So now,” she exclaimed, “that there must be our house.”
For God’s sake, it looks like an old country hay barn. And, oh my, the surroundings… those potholes and those huge roots! And no level ground anywhere.
“Oh oh. Don’t be shocked, ‘mamma.’ This is how other Malcolm Island boys’ yards looked like earlier. Burning and a passion for work will fix that,” I tried to comfort her.
“Well, that’s something. What kind of hole is in the roof, and where’s the other half of the floor? Which agricultural museum did the curtains come from? Certainly need hard-working hands here.”
“Yes, yes. That’s what I think too. You can see an energetic man and woman are needed here,” I explained.
“For sure,” she said. “But do you remember the contract made in New York? There should be a cow, a sauna, and enough coffee, but here there’s not even a blade of grass.”
“No there isn’t,” I admitted. “But they will come as the contract will be honored. The ‘horn-head’ will come as well as the sauna and enough coffee.”
She pointed out that there wasn’t even an outhouse, so I pointed to the edge of the forest, and there it was… a burnt-out stump. Temporary for now, as I haven’t had time to paper the walls. But at least there’s a raincoat on the wall in case of wet weather.
“But listen, you master-builder,” she continued, “those smelly tins have to be removed as soon as possible. First, you must make some kind of stretcher so we can carry them to the holes. We’ll bury them deep tomorrow if it doesn’t rain.”
I noticed that the initial difficulties had been overcome. I felt the joy of work in my veins as I surrendered to my new work boss.
“The beginning is always difficult, but the end will be good,” remarked the lady and continued, “Ugly are these grounds, but I believe it will be a beautiful place as that Kotilahti** looks very lovely. You must build a punt so we can row there.”
“So,” I answered, “to go crabbing and flounder fishing. Oh, this will be such a homey place, and then when spring comes and the frogs start singing in those holes, we’ll have our own music.”
This mood, rich in hopes of betterment, was common in these pioneers. Freedom is a precious thing. A more promising future was behind the hard work. But from that primeval forest rose the legacy for Sointula’s new generation.
Photo above: A Family Portrait of John Anderson and Milja Latvajärvi and their sons in Vancouver, 1921.
Terms:
*Pirtti was a log house on Malcolm Island. It was the first house built on the island by the Kalevan Kansa and later purchased by John Anderson. Original property was 1400 feet of waterfront between Blunden and Alert Ave’s. Today it is 635 1st Street.
**Kotilahti means Home Bay, which is seen in the background of the photo above. Rough Bay is part of Home Bay and John’s Pirtti was on the shore.
A Look Ahead
John Anderson’s life and writings offer a rich perspective on Sointula’s early days—one that balances hardship with humour, realism with optimism. Later this year, we hope to develop an exhibition dedicated to John’s story, exploring his life, his work, and his legacy in the community.