I left this Hidden Village a few weeks ago not knowing what to make of it. I like old things but this was a truly shocking collection of antiques and junk and wreckage.
The enormous variety of antiques was impressive. When the 17-room brick mansion was overflowing, the owner built an entire village of thirty little buildings tucked in the trees behind his house, and furnished them all.
It's not the first heritage museum I've seen, but this one was different. The dried leaves on the carpets, even the dust, made it feel like the real thing and not a fake Disneyland showpiece. It was neglected and dilapidated but great fun to explore on a sunny September afternoon.
This wasn't a commercial enterprise, there was no entry fee and nothing was for sale. George just invited us to roam around anywhere we wanted in the Hidden Village and then even in his home. And we did, for nearly two hours. It was amazing!
Motion-sensitive lights lit up the interiors when we opened squeaky old doors. Back-lit showcases sprang into view. It was all so unexpected and that was the thrill.
There were no sign of locks anywhere, the security system seemed to be this trusting sign.
George had no shortage of ideas. A mound of cleared brush and debris became the foundation of a raised stage that looks like it grew out of the earth alongside the trees.
If your taste leans toward the neat and tidy Old George's may not be for you.
The Village was charming and creative but it was hard to ignore the thick dust and the tangle of broken furniture. Mounds of plastic milk jugs and cans and bottles and garbage and a general hodgepodge decorated the front yard. The parlour where we sat in the big house was tidy, other rooms were chaotic and the basement was scary.
What's stayed with me are these contradictions at Old George's Museum. He's a hoarder but he values and preserves remnants of our pioneer history, from complete sod cabins to spice tins. I've since been told he's an expert and extremely knowledgeable collector.
Nearly every kind of antique I've ever seen was there, some organized with loving care, others lost in a jumble. He's sees value in materials that others take to the landfill; his building supplies were rescued from local demolition sites.
George Chopping is an admirable character who created his dream museum, but at 78 years old he knows he has run out of steam. Things are falling apart and he's beyond maintaining them. His place has seen better days, and now, in his words, "it's the messiest goat trail in the country".
He was full of stories about his collection and happily accepted the $20 donation we offered when we left. Visitors are welcome so if this place sounds intriguing to you, stop in for a visit. It was one of the highlights of our fall 2021 camping tour.
Located on the edge of Whitewood, SK, east of Regina. Call him at 306 735 2255 to make sure he's home.
This lifelong collector is getting tired but he's not finished. He was going to check out the garage sales in Broadview the next morning.
I can't help but wonder what in the world will become of all this stuff. As my friend Wendy T. just commented, be glad you're not the executor of his estate.
