OLD-FASHIONED FUN AT DUSTY HALL (“BUCKET OF BLOOD”)

When we reach the ripe age of 74 we keep believing that we can share stories with our great grandchildren (I am happy to admit to having one now), I would like to suggest to them how they should live the righteous life when I was young. I want to guide them the best that I am able.

Let’s take us back to 1957, when I was just about 17 and was pretty well an authority on everything, certainly a lot smarter than my parents who had not even passed grade school. They used to tell me about the raucous times that took place at some of their Dances but that things had settled down now.

So my buddies Nick Strukoff and Fred Konkin decided we should travel to Dusty Hall this one Saturday. In those times, there were many youth in the area and dances could be attended Friday and Saturday within the 20 mile radius of Pelly, Saskatchewan. There was many halls and country schools who were all trying to raise funds for some community event and so a dance was both entertaining as well as financially, a good source for these funds.

We had heard just how notorious this Dusty Hall was as it had a nickname “Bucket of Blood”. Adventure was on our minds as well as just what the girls must look like way down at this place. Its location was East of St Phillips School just off the Kissakoosee First Nations and midway to Kamsack from Pelly off Highway 22.

As luck would have it, it had rained all day Saturday and the roads were “greasy” and at best impassable for the sensible people but the “Three Amigos” were undaunted in their resolve to explore, taste and conquer territory that we had not explored up to that time.

We had “sketchy” directions to this place and believed we made the appropriate left turn off Highway 22 and realized that the road was even worse than we had imagined as our headlights tried to penetrate the fog and the absolute pitch black darkness.

Fred was for turning around but where could we do that? We stopped to consider our options when we heard what sound like fists hitting flesh and cursing. “Should we investigate” we asked each other?

Whatever was taking place appeared to be happening in the ditch. Of course we had no flashlight and were oblivious to what was actually taking place there.

“Hey whoever is there”, we shouted and the wild action ceased temporarily. “Any idea where Dusty Hall might be?”

“Just turn right a 100 feet ahead and you should see the lights a short while down on the Left” was an answer from someone.

“Thanks” as we were getting into the car the hitting and cursing started again.

So curiosity was rampant within these three lads now. “No sense going back now”

We slid and spun our way into this hall that was all lit up only over the door and the outline of cars in the parking lot with no visible people about.

“Well are we going in?” we asked each other.

“Might as well since we are here!” we were unanimous at this point.

We opened the right leaf of the double door and this is the scene that greeted us:

• A four piece band consisting of an accordion, guitar, fiddle and drums on a stage across from the entry
• They were playing Johnny Cash and Slim Whitman as the guitar player belted the lyrics into a microphone
• Benches in an inverted U-Shape with the bottom of the U to the stage
• Perhaps 2 dozen very pretty girls all sitting but looking us over
• No guys anywhere

“Wow, we have just entered Paradise”, we exclaimed in unison.

We got the nerve finally, and asked the prettiest ones to dance. They were definitely not wall flowers as it is hard to say how long they had been waiting to dance.

“So you gals are stag?” was my question.

“No the guys are all out there drinking” was the disgustful reply.

Suddenly, an entry was made by two men all muddy but walking arm-in-arm like they had been buddies forever. We surmised that this must be the guys fighting in the ditch that had provided us with directions.

As they swayed side to side (obviously from the bright lights in the hall) they kept reassuring themselves that they were friends now.

Then one of them released the other and started making his way to the stage. The other shouted, “now that is exactly what I told you not to do!”

The next thing that took place is too humorous to explain because the one lunged at the other and they both cart-wheeled as they made their way back outside to continue this obviously unresolved issue between them.

The guys started drifting in and were giving us the once over with that look that was very explicit “you guys are not thinking that you intend to pick our girls, now are you?”

The other message was clear “if you are, you will pay dearly for that privilege”

Three sports made a quick bee-line for the exit and were on our way home for a few miles when the conversation started again, “so now we know why that place got its name!”

Yes things were different then.

Elmer Verigin
Written , November 04, 2014