Obituary of Fernad James Roy Bellamy

Fernad Bellamy April 20, 1939 - October 20, 2015 Dad was born on our grandparent’s homestead near Belbutte, and it was on that same land that he lived the majority of his life. After he graduated high school, dad moved to Medicine Hat where he got a job working at the McLeods store. He didn’t talk a lot about the time he worked there, but he spoke often of the years he spent logging near Hazelton, BC. He would talk about the work he did, the things he saw, and people he met. As we got older he shared more stories of his experiences during that time, no doubt hoping we would learn from some of his mistakes. I think it’s fair to say that most of you know dad as a quiet, easy going fellow. He was hard working, and honest, and he always made time to help a friend no matter how busy he was. Never the less, he would be the first to admit that he regretted some of the things he did as a young man. We believe these life experiences are a part of what shaped the man he became, and so we will share a few of these stories with you as they were told to us. Probably few of you know that our great grandfather, Thomas Webb, was an accomplished boxer, and that he made sure that all of his grandsons learned the sport. Apparently dad was a gifted student. Grandma Jennie told me once, and I quote. “Your dad never started trouble, but he didn’t mind finishing it” Camp life provided ample opportunity to refine his skills, and before long he had earned himself a reputation which he later wasn’t proud of. When we were teenagers our family was visited by a man dad had befriended during his years in Hazleton. One of us asked if he had worked with dad. He chuckled and much to dad’s dismay proceeded to tell us the story of how they met. Dad had gone into a local establishment for a refreshment. He was quietly sitting alone when a fellow whom he had never seen before approached him, and began to pick a fight. Dad explained that he had no quarrel with the man, and wished to be left alone, but the man persisted. Eventually dad grew tired of it, knocked him out cold, and sat back down to finish his drink. Dad’s friend explained that after the trouble maker had been hauled outside he had sat down beside dad, introduced himself, and apologized. He then told dad that the man and his buddy had been harassing him all evening. Out of desperation he said he’d picked out the biggest guy he could see, pointed at dad, and told them “See my friend over there. If you have a problem with me you have a problem with him”. As it turned out dad felt sorry for the poor fellow. They spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other, and so began a friendship that lasted many years. Eventually dad decided he needed to make some big changes in his life. He moved home to Belbutte to farm his grandfather Webb’s homestead. He began studying the bible, and shortly after was baptized as one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. He met our mom in 1971 while on vacation in Ohio with Uncle Lyle and Auntie Aline. They were married on November 4, 1972. Laura was born 11 months later, and myself in June of 1975. Soon after Dad built the confectionary on the corner which our parents operated until they sold it in 1977. Dad found that he was having more and more issues with the grain dust effecting his allergies so he took a job with Husky in Lloydminster in 1978. After grandpa Jim passed away in October 1979, dad started going back to the farm every weekend to work, and so it became routine for the next 6 years that he would work in Lloyd all week, and then Friday we would all head back to the farm. He would take holidays in spring and fall so he could seed and harvest. In the fall of 1985 mom and dad bought a house and moved it into the same yard as grandma Jennie so he could return to farming full time, and be closer to her. I can remember watching dad bear hug the fridge, and carry it in the house the day we moved in. At the time it didn’t strike me as out of the ordinary. I didn’t fully appreciate my father’s brute strength until the day my college roommate and I together attempted to haul our broken fridge outside. But, for as burley a man as he was he was equally gentle. Don’t get me wrong, he had a short fuse. He was easily aggravated, but he never raised his voice in anger to one of us. We knew if we had done something wrong there would be punishment, generally extra chores, but as long as we were truthful we never feared a spanking from him. Only once in my life did I ever get a swat on the backside from dad, and as far as I can remember, Lee never did. As older teenagers, when we asked to go off with our friends dad never said No even if he didn’t approve. Instead he weighed the pros and cons with us, and let us decide for ourselves. More often than not we made the right decision. He was quick to praise, never ridiculing, and always patient. He always had time to explain how and why we needed to do things. Laura inherited the farming gene, and his love of nature and animals, and so she spent most of her time dodging mom in the house so she could be outside with dad. I guess that’s why working with dad never really seemed like work. It didn’t matter if we were mucking out the barn, fencing, hauling bales, or getting a newborn calf to suck. He always had time to share a story, or listen to me lament about all my teenage problems. If I got to complaining too much he’d wink and tell me “now don’t be too hard on folks, not everyone can be as perfect as you and me”. There were many years on the farm when money was tight. It was then that his years of logging came back to serve him best. With the knowledge he had gained in the bush he started up a saw mill, and began to saw lumber to sell. Dad was always thinking of things to build. The idea of buying something he could make himself never crossed his mind. A good example of this is the saw blade sharpener he designed, and built. He didn’t want to waste money sending the blades from the sawmill away to be sharpened, so he made his own sharpener, which he eventually patented and sold. Dad enjoyed working with his hands. Not only could he fix or build anything he was also and talented artist and craftsman. I didn’t realize until visiting with uncle Everett this past summer that dad had carved our grandma’s set of horse head bookends as a gift to her when he was young. When our oldest son Quinn began to take an interest in knife making he brought out a few of the bone handled knives he had made. If you didn’t know you probably wouldn’t guess that dad was also a poet and a song writer. In fact, 2 of the songs he wrote were recorded in Nashville by his friend Dan Schira. When I asked all the grandchildren what they will remember most about grandpa their responses, although slightly different, all came back around to his cheerfulness and sense of humor. It reminded me of the time we were sitting down to supper and a spoonful of pork n’ beans hit the floor. Dad looked down and said “That there, is what you call a has bean”. And then there was the time he filled out that mail survey . At the time there was some controversy over the name “Squaw Rapids” as some considered it to be racial. Among the questions were suggestions for alternate names. Dad wrote that he agreed the name was inappropriate, and suggested it should have been named “Buck Falls” because it cost the people a pile of money to build it. He stamped the envelope and laughed saying “let’s see what they think of this”. Mom was horrified. Yep. Due to health reasons he sold the farm in the spring of 2007 and him and mom moved into Spiritwood. It was important to dad that the space in town have adequate room for a shop so they bought a double lot, and moved a trailer on. As was agreed upon by the new owner, dad continued to make almost daily trips to the farm over the next 5 years. As mom’s health deteriorated further he devoted much of his time to caring for her at home as long as he could. Even after mom went into the lodge he visited her morning and evening. We encouraged him to come visit more often, but neither of us could persuade him to leave mom for even a short period of time. Recently he expressed that he wanted to start traveling a bit more. We believe his only regret in life was that he hadn’t been able to see a bit more of the world. When Laura was going thru papers she came across a few lines he had jotted down in a note book, presumably the beginning of a poem. He wrote: “ There are few things I need. A warm bed, food on the table, a roof that don’t leak, loving friends to surround me, and arms that are able. The flowers, stars, sunshine and rain, and the good lord to hide me so the devil can’t find me. Although we will miss him, we are comforted in the fact that he is at peace. We thank you all for coming and sharing in these memories. We ask you to please listen with us as the song he wrote called “Granite Marker” is played. Fern leaves to cherish his memory: His children: Laura (Dean) Waterfield and their children: Quinn, Tyler and Nathan; Lee (Yvette) Bellamy and their children:Kiara, Kaitlyn and Arden; His brothers: Lyle (Aline) Bellamy, Everett (Marguerite) Bellamy, His siblings-in-law: Georgia Abel, Patsy Williams, Linda Adams, Gene (Evelyn) Adams, Bobby (Renate) Adams, Glen Adams, numerous nieces, nephews and other relatives. He is predeceased by: His wife, Blanche Bellamy; His parents, James and Jennie Bellamy, His nephew, Stuart Bellamy, His parents-in-law, Eugene and Corean Adams, His brothers-in-law, William Adams, Stanley Adams, Orville Adams, Bandford-Lee Adams, James Abel and Elman Williams. A Funeral Service was held on Monday, October 26th, 2015 from the Civic Center in Spiritwood, SK. Those wishing to send online condolences are welcome to visit www.beaulacfuneralhome.com Family has entrusted arrangements to Lori Saam of Beau "Lac" Funeral Home, Spiritwood,306-883-3500