Reesor Crossing Tragedy

Just a little bit west of Kapuskasing
Reesor Crossing, that's the name
Farmers hauled, from out of the bushland
Pulpwood for the mill-bound train

20 farmers met that night
To guard their pulp from a union strike
Unaware this night would see
A Reesor Crossing Tragedy
A Reesor Crossing Tragedy

"You'll never load that pile of lumber"
Said the Union men, when they came
Though they numbered about five hundred
The 20 farmers took rifle aim

We've got to get our pulpwood out
Before the muskeg, frost comes out
And may God help us all to see
No Reesor Crossing Tragedy
No Reesor Crossing Tragedy

"You'll never touch this pile of lumber"
But they came, and tragically
Three men died, that February night in the year of '63

Eight more wounded, some beat up
Tires slashed on the lumber trucks
A night of death, and destiny
The Reesor Crossing Tragedy
The Reesor Crossing Tragedy

"You'll never touch this pile of lumber"
Seven words that spelled out pain
For the widows and their children
And their men who died in vain

How can anyone forget the bloodiest labor battle yet
In all Canadian history?
The Reesor Crossing Tragedy
The Reesor Crossing Tragedy

Just a little bit west of Kapuskasing
They erected a sculpture beside the tracks
Of the bushman and his family
Who live their lives behind the axe

It reminds us in the North
Not to bring out tempers forth
That there may never elsewhere be
No Reesor Crossing Tragedy
No Reesor Crossing Tragedy
No Reesor Crossing Tragedy