This is the legend a stampede built

January 1 1954

This is the legend a stampede built

January 1 1954

This is the legend a stampede built

In Calgary's big week, Karsh finds everybody playing cowboys and Injuns

THERE IS A general impression in the rest of Canada that Calgary consists entirely of palefaces dressed as cowboys and Indians dressed as Indians. To anyone visiting the foot-hills city during a certain July week, as Yousuf Karsh did, this theory would be fully substantiated. Everybody from the mayor’s youngest daughter to the town’s wealthiest businessman was sporting loud shirts, neckerchiefs and wide western hats. As for the Indians, they all seemed momentarily ready for the warpath.

But this is the legend of Calgary carefully fostered by Calgarians who at Grey Cup season invade the east still dressed as cowboys and Indians

but who are, for the most part, quite normal people in double-breasted suits and white pocket handkerchiefs. Calgarians, growing rapidly rich on oil, cattle and construction, like to blow oiT steam during Stampede Week but, as Karsh’s own photographs on later pages show, they live in solid brick and frame homes, not tepees, and raise skyscrapers, not smoke signals, to the sun.

Karsh himself, caught up in the spirit of the Stampede, donned the traditional western hat and blue jeans which have become the city’s trademark, but when the week was over he, like most Calgarians, went back to more conventional attire.

Karshs Calgary continued

A city lets its hair down

Wild horses and wilder music keep Calgarians on the hop

IN CALGARY’S one zany week of celebration even the neon signs seem to go crazy. But even wild horses couldn’t keep Yousuf Karsh out of the Stampede corral during the roping display shown in the photograph at the right. Here unbroken horses off the range are sent plummeting into the infield where three-man teams try to rope, halter and ride them. For the rest of the week Karsh roamed through street dances and Palliser Hotel parties, photographing Calgarians who were sometimes as wild as their own horses. But prettier.

Karsh's Calgary continued

Stampede or not, the money rolls in

Hundred dollar shirts, hundred thousand dollar homes, show off city's new wealth

CALGARY IS A TOWN that looks and acts wealthy. The colorful shirt worn by W. F. Herron (above) for example, cost a cool hundred dollars. Karsh estimates that the house shown directly below is worth a quarter of a million dollars and the one on the opposite page a hundred thousand. Sleek new buildings, such as the Barron Building shown on opposite page, are changing the city’s

skyline and are populated by sleek new executives such as N. E. Tanner, who left a provincial cabinet post for the more rewarding business field. Karsh was greatly impressed by Calgary’s building program which he says is being carried out with impeccable taste. He feels the design of the small ranch-style homes shows more originality than he has yet noticed in any other Canadian city.

The sky is big in Calgary, but the horizon is bigger

Oil and cattle make fortunes for Calgarians, whose boom

seems as unlimited as the wide vistas around the city

THE THREE MEN whose portraits appear on these pages, set against a backdrop of rolling ranchland and western sky, typify the spirit and resources which men and nature have brought, to Calgary. One is a lawyer, who like so many of his townspeople now finds himself in the oil business in a big way. Another is a businessman who finds himself in the Stampede business in a big way. The third is a city boy who now finds himself a rancher, and loves it.

Eric L. Harvie, shown in the photograph below, is popularly supposed to be the richest man in Alberta. He is a lawyer, and the story of how he took mineral rights to a large section of land

in lieu of legal fees has now become a western legend. The land turned out to be around Leduc, Alta., scene of the first great postwar oil strike.

dim Cross, in the photograph at right, is president of Calgary Brewing and one of the key men behind the annual Stampede. His famous Sunday morning breakfast, at the end of Stampede Week, on the sun deck of the Palliser is a fixed rite.

Donald C. Matthews, in the photograph at lower right, is a thirty-fouryear-old university graduate in animal husbandry who is rapidly acquiring stature as one of the district’s rising young cattlemen. Says he: “There’s simply no life like a rancher’s.” *