Sunfield Painter: The Reminiscences of John Davenall Turner

For nearly six years, the R.C.A.F. had provided me with an alternative occupation, and at the end of that period Grace and I had already decided upon the course we should follow. There was some optimistic belief that a new and better world was about to arise from the ashes of the old. Our contribution to this Utopia would take the form of the establishment of a fine art gallery. Calgary was the site chosen since the family was now established there.

Once released from the service, we lost no time in attempting to implement our plan in spite of the many obstacles, chief of which was a complete lack of capital. Calgary was not then the most fertile spot to choose for such a venture and apart from a couple of little "Art Shoppes," nothing of the kind that we envisaged had existed before in a place to which the label "Cowtown" had long been attached.

Once, on a week-end leave, my friend H. G. Glyde introduced me to A. Y. Jackson, and they invited me to go on a sketching trip to Canmore. While we were there, we were having supper in a local coffee shop and

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