Gull Lake entered 1913 with a new council and a community already pushing past its early boundaries. Charles Morrison took the mayor’s chair, joined by councillors McCue, Tyler, R. Shingler, Markuson, George Donegan, and N.R. Hoffman. J.S. Tweed and F.V. Davies were appointed auditors; Dr. J.B. Swanson became Medical Health Officer, and the town made its first offer of appointment to solicitor R.E. Alexander—names that shaped the town’s early civic foundations. Early decision

Only in Gull Lake can a pig spleen, a supercomputer, and a Lyceum premiere collide before lunch. The Round Table — Mid‑Morning The diner door swung open with the kind of prairie gust that always meant Earl had arrived with news he intended to weaponize. “Judging by the wind,” Mabel said, pouring coffee, “either March is back… or Earl’s about to declare victory.” “It’s victory,” Earl announced. “Pig Spleen: four. Supercomputer: two.” Edna raised an eyebrow over her For Posteri

A warm slice of early Main Street life Long before Main Street took its modern shape, Gull Lake had a little bakery that left a lasting mark on the town’s early years. Shilling’s Bakery — located on the south side of Main Street, midway between Proton Avenue and Rutland Avenue — entered a new chapter in October 1910, when it changed ownership and was soon rebuilt after a fire just six weeks later. Today, the street has changed, but the bakery’s place in that central stretch o

Some stories settle into the prairie like old rail ties—heavy, weathered, and still shaping the path ahead. The Round Table was already full when Earl burst through the diner door and announced, “Well, the internet’s awake—it says a documentary crew is coming this June to talk about the 1980 crash.” Mabel slid him a refill without looking up. “Morning to you too, Earl.” Edna followed him in, her For Posterity notebook tucked under her arm like a sheriff’s badge. “It’s not ju

A Short History Story Some years leave only faint traces in history. For Gull Lake, 1911 was nearly one of those years, but change was quietly gathering. The records from that year are sparse: routine business, familiar local names, and just two notable decisions—the first grading of Proton Avenue, then the town’s emerging main thoroughfare, and the purchase of a hose cart. Yet beneath that quiet surface, the community was preparing for something larger. Sometime late that ye

You could tell it was going to be one of those mornings on Coffee Row—where history, opinion, and mild exasperation all get poured into the same cup. “Highway 37 didn’t just appear,” Hank said, settling into his chair with the quiet authority of a man who’s driven that stretch in every season Saskatchewan can invent. “It was earned — one petition, one letter, and one stubborn mile at a time.” Mabel had brought in the new write-up about the road’s long fight—the decade-long p