The Reverend William Sweetnam arrived in the Fraser Lake area in 1911. Originally from Ireland, the pioneer Anglican minister resided in the BC Central Interior wilderness for twenty-five years before succumbing to the deadly affects of pneumonia, contracted on a long arduous journey by train and by boat to the South Coast, to join his family in the winter of 1936.

William had gained the nickname of “The Walking Parson” during his many years in the BC Central Interior wilderness. He would travel with a tent and all necessary items for church services loaded in the saddle, as he trudged the trails alongside Stella, his faithful mare.  He was an extremely dedicated man, holding church services in homes and in schoolhouses as far  west as Burns Lake, and as far east as what is now the Vanderhoof area.

In 1913 Reverend Sweetnam, with the assistance of local parishioners and also the Rt. Rev. F.H. Du Vernet, Bishop of Caledonia, who laboured diligently along with the rest of the crew, constructed the first of the seven Anglican churches that would eventually be established within the Diocese. The building, made of logs with the corners neatly dovetailed, was named St. Paul’s English Church. It was set in amongst the trees, slightly east of where St. Wilfred’s Anglican Church in Fraser Lake stands today. For a number of years a beautiful slab of white marble, likely sent all the way over from Ireland, was positioned near the entrance.

St Paul’s Church was dedicated by Bishop Du Vernet on August 31, 1913 and on the following day, the bishop officiated at it’s first marriage ceremony –that of the Reverend William Sweetnam and his bride, Pearl Crowell.

The courtship of Miss Crowell by William Sweetnam includes a tale that became legendary amongst local pioneers.  In the early days William lived on the North Shore of Fraser Lake. His sweetheart resided with her brother Sheldon and his wife May in a residence not far from where the new church was to be built. It was springtime and the ice was about to go out any minute, when the impetuous Irishman decided to cross the lake on horseback to visit the future Mrs. Sweetnam.

People in town watched him start out and with hearts in their mouths, saw the ice rise and fall with every step that his horse took.  He somehow managed to make it safely across and, as it was still early in the morning, waited patiently outside his ladylove’s window, until she rose from her slumber.

There is little doubt that William Sweetnam was a devout missionary but he was also quite human with a few character flaws along with his many laudable attributes. His daughter Patience shared a story from her mother’s memoirs, that she had compiled into a volume entitled “The Sky Pilot’s Wife.”

Pearl Sweetnam had related the tale of a harrowing experience from when she was a new bride living in relative isolation above the grade and approaching tracks of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railroad, in the vicinity of what is now the village of Fraser Lake.

The Sweetnam’s first home could best be described as being a cross between a tent and a cabin. The floor and three-foot-high walls were made of lumber with an attached extension and peaked roof of canvas stretched over a pole framework. It was the middle of October and winter was fast approaching, when William announced to his bride that he would be travelling to Chilco—a distance of some sixty miles– to check on a pre-emption he’d made on a piece of property. Government regulations stipulated that applicants must visit the land in question at least once a year.

“You wouldn’t mind being alone, would you?” the young man inquired of his wife, adding that he would be absent from home for no more than a week.

Pearl answered, “Yes, I would mind,” indicating that she would prefer to stay with her brother and sister-in-law who lived only a short distance away through a grove of poplar trees. At that, William admonished his wife by saying, “other women stay alone.”  He did not want his parishioners to think his wife was less courageous than they were. Pearl finally agreed, saying she would give it a try. If something upsetting did occur, then she could always retreat to her brother’s home.

As dusk drew near on what would be Pearl’s first night alone, she decided not to put on a light. It’s glow just might draw unwanted attention from the crew of ninety or so railroad construction workers that were camped along the nearby grade. It was October and the skies darkened quite early.  When she could no longer see, there was nothing else to do but go to bed.  Sometime during the night she awoke to the sound of a packrat scratching in a box of papers. But that was quite all right, she decided sleepily. If anyone entered the tent, the rat would   likely scurry off. The noise of the rodent’s retreat would surely waken her.

Later that same night, she was once again awakened by a rustling sound in the dead leaves just outside the door. The quiet of darkness was suddenly broken by a nightmarish yowling emoting from the jaws of what was later determined to have been a cougar. There was no more sleep for her that night.

She had just retreated to her bed at 6:30pm on the second night, when she heard the sound of men’s voices approaching. She deduced that they were searching for a place to spend the night. One voice was suggesting “Here is a building.” To her relief the other voice replied “No, impossible. We’d freeze to death.” Pearl decided that they sounded as if they were gentlemen, so she went outside and advised them to turn to the right. The trail would eventually lead them to the Adam’s family’s roadhouse.

Pearl was not as accommodating the following evening when a menacing looking stranger approached her canvas domicile. It was dusk when she once again heard the sound of footsteps rustling the layers of dead leaves on the ground. But this time it was not a four-legged animal.

She stepped outside and a tall man with a foreign accent came up to her inquiring, “Man want someone to work?”

Pearl pointed in the direction of Sheldon’s house. The fellow began staring at her in a way that she did not like, so she repeated her directions in more strident tones saying, “Take that trail!” and the stranger reluctantly turned away.

Following that unnerving encounter Pearl became increasingly uneasy. When it became pitch dark outside she fearfully began making her way up the trail toward her brother’s house. There was no light in the window, which meant Sheldon and his wife were not at home.

Thoroughly frightened by now, she dashed pell-mell through the bushes and trees tripping over windfalls and brambles in the direction of the Adam’s roadhouse, which was about a mile away.

Pearl could see Mr and Mrs Adams through the lighted window as they washed the dishes following their evening meal. As a Minister’s wife she suddenly realised that she did not look her best. She wiped her brow to remove every vestige of perspiration and ran her fingers through her tangled tresses before finally knocking on the door of the roadhouse.

Later that evening Pearl was safely ensconced at her brother’s home after having been escorted to the door by the kindly Mr. Adams. As she related her story regarding the menacing stranger, her sister-in-law began shrieking, “You sent him here?? I was all alone!!” 

Sheldon had travelled to Stella, a settlement halfway between Fraser Lake and Endako,  to purchase supplies.  Fearing unwanted company, his wife had blackened off all the lights reflecting through the windows.

Later that same evening a knock was heard at the door and there stood William looking quite concerned. He’d left for home several days earlier than expected. “I went home and Pearl wasn’t there” he said to Sheldon. “So I came here….” 

When he saw his wife, he explained softly,” I only got so far and then I started back.  I am so ashamed. I should never have left you alone!”

In 1914 when the G.T.P. Railroad had finally been completed and Endako been designated as the divisional point between Prince George and Smithers, William Sweetnam decided that the brand new tent-city was the place to be. He and his pregnant wife moved into the booming community where William believed there would soon be more amenities and many more parishioners than in Fraser Lake, where church attendance had dropped off drastically.

The Sweetnam’s first child, a daughter named Patience was born in a tent in Endako on March 28, 1915.

For several years William’s latest dream of establishing a church in Endako was thwarted because of a lack of funding. The little log church in Fraser Lake had fallen into a state of neglect and disrepair and a replacement was needed to meet the spiritual needs of all Anglicans in the area. Funding for construction was eventually obtained through the generosity of the Anglican Parish of Lisburn Ireland.

According to a plaque prominently featured above the church’s entrance, St John’s had been erected by friends in Lisburn Ireland, “in memory of the brave men who in defence of the Empire fell in the Great War of 1914-1918.”

The church, which incorporated some of the original construction material from the abandoned St Paul’s Church in Fraser Lake, was dedicated on June 18, 1922. 

Shortly thereafter, the first wedding ceremony was held in the community of Endako. Seven-year-old Patience Sweetnam had been the flower girl.

p.s  (draft of addendum to this story)

In August of 2004 89-year-old Patience Sweetnam Taylor travelled through the Fraser Lake/Endako area with her two nieces from the United States. Along with a few local pioneers she revisited the old church, which had been the scene of many childhood memories. The church had  been deconsecrated by the Anglican Diocese and was in the process of being designated a “heritage site” by the Regional District. The old building had been in need of some structural upgrades as well as a paint job. Thanks to the intensive labour of a number of volunteers, the church now had a new leak-proof roof and its original gleaming white finish had been restored. A contrasting green tint was applied to the trim, and the toppling miniature structure housing the old bell rebuilt.

The bell had an interesting history. The original bell sent from Ireland to fit into the church’s belfry had been damaged during shipping. The parish in Lisburn Ireland, which had provided the money to build the church and all its furnishings, agreed to the repair and the bell had been transported back overseas. But when the bell was returned to Endako on the train it was not the original – it was too large for the belfry. It was eventually decided to house it in its own separate structure.