How American Settlers Helped Shape Alberta’s Identity

Lane’s story is a fitting subject. Born in Iowa, he honed his ranching skills in Montana before joining the northward cattle drives of the 1880s. Eventually, he bought the famous Bar U Ranch after serving as its foreman. Like many Americans who crossed into Canada, Lane maintained close ties with Indigenous peoples, particularly the Blackfoot, whose ancestral lands had been divided by the U.S.-Canada border.

Whittaker portrays Lane as a man who never lost the individualist spirit of his homeland. He vacationed in California but preferred the company of working cattlemen at the High River men’s club over Calgary’s financiers at the Ranchman’s Club. In this, Lane embodied the populist streak that political scientist Nelson Wiseman later identified as a defining trait of Alberta politics.

The book succeeds in restoring Lane to his rightful place in Alberta history, offering a vivid portrait of both the man and the world he inhabited. Whittaker’s writing is accessible and his research is solid, drawing on archival sources to recreate the frontier spirit of late 19th-century Alberta. He skillfully connects Lane’s personal journey to the broader wave of American migration, more than 600,000 strong, that transformed Alberta between 1870 and 1920.

At the same time, readers looking for a deeper analysis of how Lane’s life intersected with the political and economic debates of his day may find the treatment a little light. Whittaker leans more on narrative than on analysis, and while that makes the book engaging for a general audience, it occasionally leaves the larger implications underexplored. A fuller exploration of how American-born ranchers influenced Alberta’s later movements for autonomy or its distinct populist politics would have strengthened the book further.

For me, Lane’s story resonates personally. My great-grandfather, William Bell McCorkle, was also born in Iowa. He broke horses for Buffalo Bill Cody in Wyoming before moving to Fort Macleod. His wife, Clara Wallin, born in Montana to Swedish immigrants, learned the Piikani language as her family crossed into Canada. My great-uncle, Joe Lamar, became the first cowboy killed at the Calgary Stampede in 1912 after a test ride on the “big, rangy sorrel outlaw” Red Wings. Stories like these underline how common such American-Albertan family histories are and how deeply they remain woven into the province’s fabric.

Whittaker reminds us that Lane’s story was far from unique. Many of the Americans who came north were recent immigrants themselves from Scandinavia or central Europe. Others came from the American South, including the famed Black cowboy John Ware. Even the language of the frontier carries this history: before the Civil War, “cowboy” referred to Black ranch workers, while white ranch workers were called “cowhands.”

Overall, George Lane: The Man Who Never Turned Back is a valuable addition to Alberta’s historical literature. It may not answer every question about Lane’s political impact, but it captures the spirit of a man and a migration that helped shape the province’s identity. For readers interested in Alberta history, the Calgary Stampede or the enduring American influence on Canadian identity, Whittaker’s book is both engaging and important.

Our Verdict: ★★★★☆
Highly recommended for general readers and history enthusiasts alike. Scholars may wish for more analytical depth, but the book succeeds in making George Lane, and the American imprint on Alberta, accessible and compelling.

Collin May is a Senior Fellow with the Frontier Centre for Public Policy, a lawyer, and Adjunct Lecturer in Community Health Sciences at the University of Calgary, with degrees in law (Dalhousie University), a Masters in Theological Studies (Harvard) and a Diplome d’etudes approfondies (Ecole des hautes etudes, Paris).