When an opportunity arose to work for the Saskatchewan Provincial Government in furthering Co-operatives among Northern Metis and Indians, he jumped at the chance. This signalled the end of my father's employment in the retail sector.  (The Minister of Co-operatives was also the Premier of Saskatchewan - Tommy Douglas. Nearly 20 years later, I had the privilege of meeting Tommy - as he was known to all - and told him of Dads illness. Tommy remembered Dad and asked for his telephone number. A few days later he telephoned the house).

He was posted to Buffalo Narrows in North West Saskatchewan, where he was instrumental in setting up several successful co-operatives and developing training programs for the local population. After almost two years, the opportunity was presented to move to Ottawa and join the Federal Government with the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development as a Co-op Development Officer. (It was this point that my mother insisted they buy a house and set down roots until the children had finished school!)Among his achievements in the north, was the development of co-operatives for the sale and distribution of Inuit (Eskimo) carvings, prints, seal skins and Arctic Char.

An article in the Atlantic Co-operator pays tribute to the commitment of my father and many other dedicated Canadian Public Servants in their work among the Inuit.

It was very important to my father that we as a family travel to Europe in the summer of 1961. This was his first trip home in ten years, and our first chance to meet our Danish family. My father was very proud t hat he had become a Canadian citizen, but he also wanted us  to share the experience of his heritage. We were able to spend two months visiting all of our relatives, enjoying the (Madsen) family picnic, and my mother learned the joy of eating pickled herring washed down with a healthy dose of Schnapps and beer. As my Grandfather said in his broken English "The fish must also swim!". Washing the dishes that first night was a different story. Those tiny Schnapps glasses which had so recently provided such a pleasure to the adults suddenly broke with alarming regularity during the cleanup. My grandfather once had again had just the right saying for the moment.  "The more glasses broken, the better the party must have been"!

For my sister - then aged 8, and myself aged 6 - it was a most wonderful summer. We had first visited England and met some of Mum's friends and family whom she had not seen since 1947. In Denmark we were able to meet most of Dad's relatives, including his brothers and their wives (Mogens and his wife Vera, Bruno and his wife Margit). We spent most of the summer with our Grandparents in Horbelev. Little did my sister and I know that we would be back there just three short years later!

In May 1963 my father was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Then, as now, there was little the medical profession could do to offer hope to the victims.

It had been a hope of my parents that at some point they would be able to go overseas to work in the Third World. They had not planned on doing this so soon after arriving to "settle" in Ottawa, but the onset of the MS forced them to accelerate this decision.

My father applied to External Aid Overseas (now called CIDA) for a posting overseas. He was accepted to go the British Protectorate of Bechuanaland (since Independence in 1966 it has been called Botswana) as the Assistant Registrar of Co-operatives. We left Ottawa in October 1964.

For two years he and my mother lived first in Lobatsi and then in Gabarone. My sister and I lived with them for the first year. As the political situation in Southern Rhodesia deteriorated, culminating with the Unilateral Declaration of Independence on November 11th 1965 - it was felt that Sue and I should go to Denmark and live with our Grandparents for the second year. We left Bechuanaland in September 1965 and reunited with our parents there in July 1966.