It’s pretty hard to pull the wool over the eyes of Horse Lake ranching couple Chris and Helen Horn. Or so they thought.

They got a big surprise right out of left field on June 19 when friends and relatives unexpectedly threw them a party to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary.

Both have lived all their lives in the Cariboo, so the guest list was long. They still can’t believe that plans were contrived with nothing tipping them off.

Even the Free Press had their part in the caper. A large box ad in the June 18 edition invited people to join in the celebration, but the Horns, who are newspaper subscribers, never had a chance to see it.

Their son, Gus Horn, made arrangements with the paper to hold back delivery and when Helen called Wednesday morning to inform us of the error, a promise was made to get a replacement in the mail, pronto. It was delivered, but minus the page with the ad.

The conspiracy continued into Sunday: party day.

“First of all, we woke up that morning and were even surprised to realize it was June the 19 already,” said Helen. “Then a friend called and said she was taking us out for Chinese food brunch. She was a part of the plan.”

They had a great meal, and once back, the couple found their living room filled with many of their old friends who are currently residents of extended care homes. They had been driven out to the ranch for the special occasion.

There was just enough time to visit before the hoards of other guests started to arrive with arms full of flower bouquets and sumptuous buffet dishes.

Even the Queen of England, or rather, a pretty convincing impostor, dropped by to offer her personal congratulations.

Marriage commissioner Julia Newton arrived in a vintage car driven by its owner, Dan Dobson, a nearby neighbour.

She presented the Horns with an authentic congratulatory letter from Buckingham Palace then rode off, giving her signature royal wave.

Among their gifts was an album filled with similar letters and certificates from almost every level of Canadian government, including the Office of the Prime Minister, and provincial and regional offices.

“That was the doing of our son, Gus. I should have known something was going on when he asked to see our marriage certificate a while back,” said Helen.

Close to 100 friends bid them congratulations on their long life as a couple, which began on June 19, 1948.

Their vows were exchanged in a simple ceremony held at the Williams Lake United Church, said Chris. His good friend, Don Eden, now deceased but formerly of Watch Lake, stood as his best man and Olga Granberg (later, Thorsteinson), Helen’s sister, was the maid of honour.

The couple set up their home in the Lone Butte area, not far from where they’d grown up as children of pioneer families.

Chris’s father, Hartwig Horn, came to the area in 1913 and his wife, Anna, came along later. When they eventually divorced, she remarried as Gibson and owned and operated the former Lone Butte Hotel.

The log structure sat on Highway 24, in the center of downtown Lone Butte until it was destroyed by fire in 1998.

Helen worked at her family’s general store, which was conveniently next door to the hotel where Chris spent a fair bit of time visiting his mom.

Chris and Helen had known each other since attending Lone Butte School together, but sparks didn’t fly until Helen was 24 years old.

“Even at that age, I didn’t think there was any rush to get married,” laughed Helen.

Her life had been busy enough up to then, with the store and with looking after her siblings over the years. There hadn’t been much time to get out and socialize like the other young people did, she said. On the other hand, Chris had seen his share of country dances and carousing, never thinking twice about riding his horse for miles to get in on the action. He reminisced about one long-ago ride to a New Year’s dance in Forest Grove where he sold his horse for $15 to a pretty girl before the night was over.

“Jay Houseman had a truck and he drove me back home that night. It was no big deal. Just the kind of things we used to do,” said Chris.

That all changed when Helen caught his eye but getting her to the altar with her father’s blessing was another matter.

“Her dad wouldn’t stand for it and her uncle hated me too. Her dad didn’t even come to the wedding but, before he died, that all changed and he told me I was the best son-in-law he had,” said Chris.

The newlyweds took a month-long honeymoon travelling around B.C. in Chris’s 1936 Dodge car before settling down on a piece of property five miles east of Lone Butte. Chris and his brothers had inherited it from his Uncle August, who died in 1940 from cancer.

From there, they kept in tune with the happenings in what was a bustling Lone Butte. The town was bigger than 100 Mile House at the time and boasted three general stores, a hotel, post office, United Church and a busy Pacific George Eastern Railway station.

The twice-weekly train provided the life-blood for Lone Butte and communities all along the line. Helen and Chris recall the train usually included five cars, with a passenger car, freight car, a caboose and cattle cars.

The South Cariboo had earned its name as cattle country by that time and Lone Butte had a large stockyard adjacent to the station where area ranchers would herd and hold their livestock for shipment on the rail line.

Helen said that adjacent to the stock yard was a station house where freight was unloaded and stored until its owner made his way to town to claim it.

“People would order things in from Woodward’s and fresh fruit from Lillooet would come in twice a week. The train would bring food, flour and grain, and stopped anywhere along the track you put a flag out. Then trappers, from as far away as Canim Lake, would ship their furs out from Lone Butte, too, and they’d ship cream to Quesnel.”

The couple moved onto their current piece of property on Horse Lake Road, just a few kilometres from town, in 1964. The hairpin turn and Skaday’s Bridge are both products of its subdivision and sale to Chris, which took place in 1947.

The land is a rolling expanse of green hayfield now but when Chris bought the property, it was heavily treed. He cleared every acre himself and made the land productive.

He also did a fair amount of land clearing for the government way back when ranchers could pay their property taxes by way of improving their land.

Chris was a bit of a jack of all trades and, for many years, rural folk in the 100 Mile area depended on him to keep the Horse Lake Road in passable condition. He kept it plowed in the winter and graveled in the pot-holes when it was just a dirt track. His history with the road goes back at least to 1936 when he worked for Skaday and his job was to make two trips daily with a team of horses hauling gravel for its repair. He even had a hand in building the original Skaday’s Bridge.

Chris and Helen have both kept themselves more than busy over the years, developing their cattle and hay ranch and building a strong marriage as well.

Helen said it hasn’t all been easy but keeping a simple set of rules has helped keep the bumpy road a little smoother.

“You do what you have to do and you get on with it. Tolerance is the key,” she said.