In all, Billy Jackson spent eight years at Edmonton’s Indian Residential School. The first five, when he went from age seven to age twelve, were fairly uneventful. His dad visited the school twice during that period. Billy wrote and received letters from home. But, writing or receiving, there were never more than two letters in any given year. News was stored up for shar­ing during the two months of summer. For the other ten months, the only adults in his life were the staff and teachers at school. Like the other kids his age, Billy accepted the discipline of authority figures. Basically, he kept the rules set by the school and tried to stay out of trouble, especially during his earlier years in the dormitory. 

        One night however, by way of an accident, the whole dormitory woke to the sound of the evening supervisor spanking one of the boys. The supervisor, Mrs. McComb, had been the unfortunate victim of a prank intended for somebody else. 

        Billy was about ten at the time. Frank Buffalo slept on the bed between Billy and the dormitory washroom. It was almost a matter of course for any passing boy to pinch Frank’s toe or otherwise make their presence known on their way to the washroom. Tired of the annoyance, Frank decided on revenge. One night, he set a coyote snare on the floor between the washroom and his bed. Laying his head on the pillow, he waited for a victim to fall into his trap. 

        What was the matter with the guys that night? Not one moved. Frank waited and waited—and fell asleep, his snare still set. 

        Later that night, Mrs. McComb made her final rounds before getting off to bed herself. A chubby middle-aged lady, Mrs. McComb was not disliked by the boys. Certainly nobody would have wished for her to get caught in the coyote snare. 

        But that’s exactly what happened. Mrs. McComb hit the floor with a loud crash, just about the time that her howling scream shook the dormitory. By the time Billy became wideawake, the uninjured but very angry Mrs. McComb had things in hand. Spank, spank, spank! The sound of sharp slaps froze the other boys into silence. Poor Frank’s howls competed with Mrs. McComb’s loud threats as to what she would do to him if he ever, ever, ever did such a thing again. For the record, Frank never did. 

        Frank’s misadventure was unusual. Most of the time, the boys behaved reasonably well. They didn’t have the discipline problems which seemed to creep into the lives of older boys. Of course, the older boys were entering or had already entered a different life stage. Their voices deepened and their adolescent experience began. 

        As Billy approached adolescence, he made a number of discoveries. For one thing, he discovered a gift of music which enabled him to quickly learn to play the violin. Self-taught, he never did have any formal lessons. But he had watched his dad play the violin at dances held in people’s homes back on the reserve. His dad played at weddings and special gatherings, often alone, sometimes with a guitarist. Thomas was self-taught, too, having developed by practice the strong gift which made him an accomplished fiddle-player. 

        Billy’s musical gift made him popular at the school dances where he played. From time to time he played by request—and not always during times that matched the school rules. 

        One day, while wrestling with another boy, Billy broke his violin bow. One of the teachers, Mr. Schula, heard about it and offered Billy the loan of his own violin bow. Then one evening, while Mr. Schula corrected papers In the classroom directly under dorm three, he heard the unmistakable strains of violin music from above his head. Unknown to Mr. Schula, Billy was responding to requests from the other students. 

        As the evening wore on, the music continued. It seemed there was no end to the requests. Finally, noticing that it was long past the hour for lights out, Mr. Schula alerted the night supervisor. Since Mr. Krause’s heavy tread announced his coming before he arrived, the boys were all able to reach an instant state of deep sleep. Billy even had time to slide his violin under his bed and feign slumber before the door opened and the lights came on. Of course, all the supervisor discovered was a dormitory full of deep-breathing (some snoring) sound asleep boys. 

        The next morning, however, Mr. Schula sent for Billy. “I know you kept everybody awake last night playing the violin. Sorry, but you have to return my bow. Now!” Sending the boy upstairs to get the violin bow, Mr. Schula nodded when Billy returned and placed the bow in his hand. Billy did get another bow some time later. But, from then on, dormitory request concerts were canceled. Billy didn’t want to lose his violin or his bow. 

        Bill remembered another little incident concerning his violin. That time the violin itself was broken. The principal called Bill in one day and asked to see his violin. Upon seeing it, he thought it was beyond repair, so he bought a new one and gave it to Bill. That violin is still in Bill’s possession.