In Memoriam Alex Olar (Mar. 17, 1924-Mar. 1, 2009)

I can't pick up a squared timber, or a foundation jack, or a level, without thinking of Alex Olar.

When we bought our first homestead in the Wabos Valley back in 1983, there were several buildings that needed leveling or moving. “Go see Alec Olar” I was told. “He does that better than anyone else”. I soon became his apprentice on site, as we worked with small pieces of wood and steel, slowly coaxing buildings back onto their foundations. I was new to this and Alex was patient but persistent, reminding me of the details that could assure success or guarantee failure. He also went to great lengths to steer us away from folly, those building ideas that only looked good on paper. His methods were tried and true: keep it on the square and level from the footings to the rafters. Without the support and friendship of Alex and his wife Dorothy, Britta and I probably would not have survived here.

When it came time to construct a barn, we again listened to Alex. He brought us three straight 28 foot long black spruce from the swamp, “gun barrels”, he called them. These supported the gambrel roof of the second floor. The economic eight foot components of the roof allowed for easy lifting. When it came time to build a second barn, we followed the same techniques, although Alex was then retired from that type of work.

There was however, one last effort Alex helped us with when we bought this 80 acres back in 1999. Only one of the turn of the century buildings from Henri Salmi's homestead remained standing. The log design was typical of the early Finnish settlers; compound dove-tails, hand-hewn cedar logs and a cove and bead stacking system. It was well worthy of restoration, though it was mired in the soil, the lower logs rotted. We asked Alex if he could perform one more miracle. Fortunately for us, the word “impossible'” was not in his vocabulary.
The next three days were spent in preparation; lifting the building, removing suspect logs, laying track and steel pipe rollers towards the new foundation. The twenty foot transport was accomplished in an hour with Alex directing and coaxing. Together, we toasted the incredible success.

There was one bright May day some years back when I caught up with him in Searchmont. He reminded me that these days are best for “guys like us”. First of all, I was glad to be included in that category, but I knew what he meant: There's lots to do in those bright long sunny spring days with no black flies, yet!
My hat's off to you Alex, and I'll remember to take full advantage of those days as they come around each spring.