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These selected letters form a fraction of sixty years' worth of correspondence, notes, clippings and other materials on pipe organs, their specifications, historical data, and glimpses into the minds of builders, organists and music lovers. It is a story that revolves around one instrument, Casavant Opus 301, the pipe organ that my father rescued from demolition in 1955.

I have read these letters hundreds of times and still find them fascinating. It is impossible not to marvel at the mind and heart of a man who devoted so much of his life to one instrument. The effort of dismantling and rebuilding not only once but twice, together with building a new music room each time, is something that speaks to me of a deep, profound love and dedication. Each reading offers further insight and understanding, and as I re-read the Kindersley letters again I was struck by my father's profound loneliness and aloneness as he struggled to maintain his hope and faith in his dream for this pipe organ.

Dear Sir:

I was in Saskatoon for the 50th anniversary of my graduation from the University of Saskatchewan on Sept. 19th, last.  My sister, who lives in Kindersley during the summer months, told me she had heard a program on TV which mentioned your organ which had once belonged to a farmer in Saskatchewan.  That farmer was yours truly, and I wished I had time to visit the Abbey and see the organ once more after so many years.

The idea of a farm lad owning his own pipe organ is spite of all the difficulties of the times, and that he actually was able to present it in a recital by Wilfred Woolhouse, organist of Knox Church in Saskatoon, in June 1945, seems today almost incredible.

It was wartime, no organs were being built; wire, magnets, tin and lead for pipes, all were materials needed for killing people instead of praising God.  Besides, there was no electric power to farms for running the blower.  Nevertheless, I managed to overcome the difficulties and that recital was one of the high points in my life.  Underlying all the troubles was one factor, which was perhaps the greatest ---- poverty.

I only had my organ for a few months, having to sell it at below cost in order to make a down-payment on my own place.  How I got that far is a long story, beginning with an article I had read in the now defunct Etude Music Magazine.

The reason I am here in Victoria is because of an article I read in the magazine section of the Star-Phoenix when I was 13 years old.  The next room, containing my 4-manual Casavant, is because of a hockey game.  Everything happened in a round-about way but opportunities came my way and I took advantage of them.

I am happy to learn that my organ is in the hands of the Benedictines, God Bless them!  Perhaps some day I might hear my organ once more. But if not, at least something I have done will not be in vain.


Stuart A. Kolbinson