Photo courtesy of the family Tempest Powell Benson at her beloved Saganaga island.
With the passing of Irv Benson and the transfer of his five-acre resort, an era has come to an end for the family of Tempest Powell Benson. Barbara Hoffman submitted the following photo and memories of her grandmother.
I was awakened this morning by a phone call from my Mom, Betty Skoog. She informed me that Irv Benson had passed away. The five-acre resort property that he and Tempest built and operated on an island on the Canadian side of Saganaga since 1951 is no longer in the family.
One cannot think of Tempest without vividly recalling the wilderness area of Saganaga and the island she welcomed so many to. She was also an excellent guide and often went fishing with guests, summer home friends, grandchildren and others-always without charge. Making other happy was always what made her happy. This was a woman who profoundly touched the lives of all who were blessed to know her.
I now realize that my fondest childhood memories are of the days and weeks I spent with her and my family at the resort. In the winter, I was spellbound as we raced across a frozen Saganaga Lake, warmly bundled up in the dog sled, with only our eyes visible to the blowing snow and cold. What an extraordinary thrill to watch the dogs straining to pull us swiftly over that frozen ice and snow!
We children would be hurried inside to the warmth of the wood stove, though we would protest loudly, that we would much rather go with Grandma to “help” her feed and bed down the dogs. For the most part, the dogs were off limits to us, though on occasion Grandma would let us help her cook the dogs’ “soup,” which I recall consisted of fish and corn meal, cooked over an open fire by the lake. And if we were really lucky, she would take us across the bay to where they were housed to watch her feed them. To this day, I have both a healthy fear and respect for those sled dogs.
I never went trapping with Grandma, except to lift rabbit snares in the winter, nor did I go moose hunting. But I vividly recall the cabin full of beaver, otter, and other furs during trapping season, and the quartered moose carcasses during moose season. I see snowshoes and bright red hunting garb and remember many exciting and often perilous stories of trapping and hunting adventures. I am thankful for God’s supernatural protection of Tempest, for there were many times when her life could have been lost to the elements or wild animals. Though Grandma dearly loved and respected nature in all its splendor and beauty, she did not worship it. Though she hunted and trapped many of its animals, there were doubtless few who understood them as she did. There was scarcely a homeless beast or bird, whether moose, bear, wolf pup, duck or squirrel and chipmunk that she did not at one time or other open her home and heart to. Some were orphaned, others injured, and not just a few that Betty, Jeanette, or Minerva just wanted to keep for pets! They even had beaver and otter as pets at one time.
Though her island home is no longer in the family, Tempest will forever be in all of our hearts. At different times and in different ways, we will each sense her spirit abiding in and around us. I know that if you knew her, you remember her kind, understanding and forgiving ways. She set an example we should all try to live by.
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