By Mag Mawhinney
We were homesteaders in 1950.
Times were tough and we were barely scratching out a living in this rugged countryside between 100 Mile House and Forest Grove.
One stifling summer day, we heard a loud crash. It amazed us that an accident could happen on this lonely road because only a handful of vehicles travelled it each day.
We ran around the corner of the house in time to see a huge cloud of dust settling around a car, butted up to a fence post.
Support local journalism today
Join thousands of other like-minded readers and sign up below to gain immediate & unlimited access to our news for the next 30 days – plus start receiving our newsletters.
Dialogue and debate are integral to a free society and we welcome and encourage you to share your views on the issues of the day. We ask that you be respectful of others and their points of view, refrain from personal attacks and stay on topic. To learn about our commenting policies and how our community-based moderation works, please read our Community Guidelines.
