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

Victoria, BC
October 30, 1992