Imant Willmann

Imant “Willy” passed away peacefully at home on May 6, 2024. He is survived by his loving wife of 65 years, Margaret; children Daniel (Brenda), Joanne (Arthur) and Angela; 6 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren.

Just days prior, Imant was doing what he loved; sitting on the tractor, working in the field.

The kitchen was Dad’s favorite place in the house. Dad had his ‘spot’ at the nook, worn by countless hours enjoying Mom’s great cooking, especially desserts, reading the weekly agricultural newspaper, The Western Producer, and spending time talking with family and friends. I know that our family always looked forward to hearing Opa’s stories and his jokes. ‘Ask Opa, he’ll tell you!” is what his grandson’s would say.

Dad was born in Autz, Kreis Mattau, Latvia on December 9, 1936, to Sylvia, a seamstress and Heinrich Willmann, a butcher. With his siblings Gonhard and Ina they enjoyed growing up halfway between Oma and Opa Mantai and Oma and Opa Willmann. The Mantais were a farming family. Dad was introduced to horses at a very young age. The story goes that Dad would spook the horse to make it buck Gonhard off. And then Dad would get on the horse and ride off.

Living in Latvia during WWll were difficult times. Many Baltic Germans had already fled Latvia since the Russian occupation of 1940. Heinrich was conscripted into the German army. In 1943 at the age of 7 the family fled Latvia by train to Poland. Dad told us that they travelled by horse and wagon from Poland to Germany. At first it felt like an adventure but sleeping sitting up, walking many kilometers day or night, and eating frozen jam spilled into months.

When they arrived in Germany in the Spring of 1945, the country was occupied and administered by the Allies. Life was very difficult for everyone, whether German, or refugee. Heinrich had been injured in the war. The Red Cross hospital where he was recuperating had been bombed. They never received any word about him after that. As a widow with young children, Sylvia leaned on her faith in God. Dad went to school and played soccer. We heard stories of Dad playing soccer on a field of crushed coal. After a game or practice he and his friends would swim in the river to wash off and then run home. Though Dad had an interest in mechanics, his Mother preferred that both him and Uncle Gonhard enroll in an upholstery apprenticeship program.

Through the work of the North American Baptist Immigration Program the family came to Canada in 1953. The Beaverbrae left Bremen, Germany the beginning of June 1953. Dad told us that the ship had to sail up around Scotland due to Queen Elizabeth’s coronation. They landed in Quebec City on June 13, 1953. From there it was a very long train ride to Prince Rupert where they were to work in the fisheries. Dad thought that they had travelled to the end of the earth! Fortunate for them, the canneries were on strike so the decision was made to find work in Prince George at one of the many sawmills dotting the landscape. The family made their home on Cranbrook Hill. With hard work and determination they purchased a farm a few years after arriving in Prince George. The family attended Bethel Baptist Church.

Dad and Mom met during the summer at church. The young people would gather for events. Mom enjoyed playing baseball and helped teach Dad the game. Dad loved Mom so very much. Their romance flourish and in the Spring of 1958, they were engaged. They were married on October 17, 1958. They made their home on the family farm. During the 60’s they welcomed Daniel, Joanne, and Angela. Growing up we never lacked and were never bored. Dad called me Joannie! When I was young, maybe 3 or 4 years old, I remember going with Dad to his workplace. His boss came out to greet us. He looked at me and said, “Where did you get your blue eyes?” I didn’t hesitate, I said, “My Daddy!” When Angela was 6 years old, we were picking roots and rocks on the dairy farm in Quesnel, Dad picked her up and plopped her onto the tractor. He showed her where the brake and clutch were, put it into gear and told her to drive. Angela remembers crying because she was so scared, but from that point forward Angela never picked a root, rock or bale – she always drove. As his children we knew without a doubt that we were loved.

Besides cattle, chickens and pigs, the farm had horses and ponies. Dad enjoyed horses – riding them, watching rodeos, equestrian, and gymkhana (competition between horse riders) at the Prince George Fairgrounds. From a very young age Dan and I would ride ponies in the corral. Dad would always saddle my horse. To this day, I don’t know how to saddle a horse. Dad was a beekeeper for a few years. When we lived in Quesnel on the dairy farm, Dad and Dan did Team Roping. A sport that requires close cooperation and timing between two highly skilled ropers – a header and a heeler – and their horses.

Dad and Mom both enjoyed farming. Their ‘happy place’ was enjoying fresh air, working the soil and caring for their animals. Mom and Dad lived a modest life. Many of the meals we enjoy to this day are recipes passed down from family. Their home was very welcoming and there was always room for one more chair at the table when people dropped by.

Dad worked hard both at his job and on the farm to give his family a better life. Holidays consisted of camping in the Okanagan in August after the hay was in the barn. Visiting friends in Oregon. Dad didn’t snow ski or enjoy the beach, but he would drive us so that we could enjoy these places. Even if it meant sitting in the ski lodge while we skied all day. We took a family vacation to Disneyland driving down the Pacific Coast, venturing into Mexico and driving up through the Mountain states. Dad experienced an airplane trip once in his life. My family, Dad and Mom flew from Winnipeg to Toronto. He didn’t enjoy the loud, crowded airplane, preferred to drive! Dad and Mom and Angela went on an Alaskan Cruise. Dad thought it was interesting that people would spend money to see bears in the wild. When he told other passengers that he regularly saw bears on his farm his ‘new friends’ wanted to hear more. Dad enjoyed the pampering on the cruise ship. A far cry from his first experience on a ship!

Dad always made time for his 6 grandchildren, Joshua, Stephen, Nicolas, Matthew, Alyse, and Cole. Time slowed down when the grandchildren were around. Chores on the farm took longer. There were always tractor rides and horseback rides. Dad enjoyed sharing dessert with his grandchildren. There were lots of conversations around the kitchen table. Opa always had a listening ear, and he cheered them on in their dreams and endeavors.

His great-grandchildren, Jayden, Zoe, Silas, Anders and Isak were like the icing on the cake, sweet in every way.

In Dad’s later years he became a ‘pick up’ cowboy, trading in his horse for the comforts of driving his truck to check the cattle. His red truck was known on Cranbrook Hill roads. Neighbours would wave as they drove by. So when I would borrow Dad’s truck, I always received friendly waves from folks driving by.

Together for over 65 years, Dad and Mom with a faith in God, modelled for their family love, loyalty, hard work, perseverance, duty, hopefulness and thankfulness.

The terror of war, the displacement during childhood, the toil of having to start over in life not once but twice shaped my Dad. His strength of character never wavered. In these last years his body showed the signs of a life filled with hard work. But he kept on working, helping Dan on the farm wherever he could. Dad, you would do anything for us. You always gave us your best. We love you! We miss you, Dad!