not far from fort st. john there is a little town called taylor. that's where we went next.

i was taking pictures of this cute old anglican church when a nice woman came up to me and told me a bit about its history.

she said that a man named otto hoffstrom had four daughters, and one day they were crossing the peace river on the ferry. when they were about to drive off the ferry that day, their car somehow rolled into the river. all four girls were killed.

it is such a sad story, but in memory of the four girls volunteers from taylor erected this quaint little chapel in 1932.

it was so beautiful in taylor. it seriously looked like something straight out of a movie. it was so green and it is an old town so there was so much history. and there was a lot of farming there so i just felt right at home. i loved it.

things i still remember:
a birthday party in a back yard.
the empty playground at the elementary school.
the rain.
the sunshine.
the hillside full of green green trees.
the farm on spruce street n.
a glass of water from a stranger.
the big white house.
running to the esso.
the community curling and ice center.

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