A mammoth act of love

This is a story for everyone who loves my dad Doug Hedemark – some of you know him personally, and lots of you know him only through my blogs or Facebook. Many people have written to say they feel they know him, even though they’ve never met.

He’s such a character! A stonemason, a blacksmith and a carpenter, father of 10 children, ardent Catholic. He loves music, art, and literature. He can hammer a nail like nobody’s business. Even at 86 he is endlessly curious – between naps – endlessly inspiring, and endlessly surprising.

About 10 years ago I took him to Stratford to see a play. While there, we visited a store that specializes in native art, much of which is carved in very particular kinds of wood or stone.

“I make violins,” Dad explained to the woman in the store, “and I am looking to buy legal ivory for the band of the neck. I was told it was possible to purchase legal ivory in Canada.”

The woman nodded enthusiastically. “What you need is mammoth ivory,” she explained. “No one supports killing living animals for ivory; however, in the far north of Canada and Russia, the Inuit often come across frozen mammoth carcasses. They are legally allowed to sell the ivory from the tusks so long as it is certified mammoth ivory.”

Dad and I had a great trip, and I did not think too much more about the ivory conversation until my work took me to the Yukon. While walking around Whitehorse, I noticed that many stores posted signs advertising “Mammoth ivory available here.” I went ivory shopping. Several hundred dollars later, I possessed an impressive, 14” long piece of mammoth ivory and a document certifying that it was genuine mammoth ivory, legal for trade and sale.

“Dad will be so excited!” I imagined his response when I presented him with enough legal mammoth ivory to keep him in the violin-making business for years.

Driving from Toronto to Michigan across the Blue Water Bridge in Sarnia, I made sure to keep the validating certificate in my wallet, in case any curious border guard were to ask me why I was transporting ivory. I had practiced my response: “This is ivory from a dead and frozen MAMMOTH, officer. It is legal to purchase and transport. Here is the certificate that came with my purchase in Yukon.”

I was almost disappointed when no one questioned me about the ivory crossing into the United States – but I was heartened by Dad’s excitement at receiving my gift, maybe the most challenging present for which I had ever shopped. How often do you buy something thousands of years old, rare and beautiful, which is destined to become an essential component of a handmade work of art? It felt very special.

Well, as family stories often go, this one changed pretty quickly. It was hard year for our family and I dedicated a ton of time and attention to being as helpful as I could. It was a stressful and exhausting time.

At Thanksgiving Dinner that year, Dad felt compelled to present me with a special “Thank you” gift in front of the entire family. He began with touching words about how hard I had worked, and how important he thought it was for my efforts to be acknowledged. To thank me, he announced, he had made me a special piece: a statue of the crucified Christ, hand-carved in one of the most prized woods available (purple heart) and pounded into a “puddingstone,” a special metamorphic rock valued for its unique appearance.

His haunting Christ figure was crucified to….a cross made of mammoth ivory.

Dad was so inspired to make me a beautiful thank-you gift that he cut the mammoth ivory in half to make a cross out of it, and nailed his hand-carved purple heart Jesus to it with tiny little nails.

I was almost speechless when I realized what Dad had done with my gift of a 10,000 year old piece of mammoth ivory: he gave it back to me. As a piece of art.

“Well, just to make sure you know, this is not elephant ivory,” I started babbling in front my family. “No animals died in the making of this statue, this is legal mammoth ivory which I bought and transported in accordance with all the laws of Canada and the United States…” I trailed off faintly, wondering how I would ever explain this to anyone, never mind the border guards. The mammoth ivory I had thought would keep my dad busy making violins for a decade had just been handed back to me. While I could not refuse his heart-felt gift, neither did I have any plan to be in the Yukon shopping for mammoth ivory again any time soon; so much for the ivory violin necks.

Crossing the border was a nerve-wracking experience. I could not leave Dad’s gift behind; that would have killed him. On the other hand, I no longer possessed the certificate which declared the mammoth ivory legal; I threw it away after I gave him the gift. So now I was crossing BACK over the border with a statue of Christ nailed to a cross made of ivory. I had no proof it was legal mammoth ivory, not illegal elephant ivory. I was pretty sure it could be confiscated, and I had the nagging thought I might also be arrested.

“Do you have anything to declare?” the Canadian Border Service Agent asked me.

“My dad made me a sculpture, a crucifix,” I answered, gesturing vaguely to the back of my van.

“Do you know how much it is worth?” he asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” I answered, completely truthfully.

The CBS agent thought for a moment. “OK,” he said, handing me back my passport. “Have a nice day.”

“YOU TOO!” I replied emphatically, pulling away as quickly as the speed limit would allow.

I unpacked Dad’s “Jesus statue” yesterday for Easter. The mammoth ivory crucifix is officially the oldest thing in my new house, and it looks perfect.