Morley Clarke, 70, is breathing new life into an old school building in Spy Hill by turning its classrooms into temporary living quarters for potash workers.Morley Clarke, 70, is breathing new life into an old school building in Spy Hill by turning its classrooms into temporary living quarters for potash workers. (Niall McKenna/CBC)Workers at a potash mine in eastern Saskatchewan are going back to school — but not in the way one might think.

They will be living in an old school building in Spy Hill, population 200, that was bought by a man who turned its classrooms into living quarters for temporary workers.

The first occupant moved in in mid-June.

"I think that with what we've got in here, that it will be a paying proposition," said Morley Clarke, 70, who has opened several other businesses at the old Spy Hill School in what used to be offices, student locker rooms and the library.

'I was kind of taken back to my younger days when I was in school.'—Elmer Lewis, potash worker

Today, there's a bakery, a hair salon, a meat-cutting shop and a small showroom where he sells water pumps, all-terrain vehicles and other machines.

"If you want it, we can get it," he said.

Clarke bought the school building and land the size of three-baseball diamonds for $100 in 1998 after the school closed because of low enrollment.

Potash boosts housing

It hasn't been an easy — or cheap — 11 years for Clarke's school turned business venture. Most of his businesses have lost money, and he pays $20,000 a year just for heat and power for the 14,500-square-foot, single-storey structure.

But massive global demand for fertilizer could turn things around, as potash mines push ahead with expansion plans. After PotashCorp of Saskatchewan announced a $2-billion, five-year expansion of its potash mine in nearby Rocanville, local houses and hotels filled up with construction workers.

Boarding rooms at the old Spy Hill School are just big enough for a single bed and dresser. Boarding rooms at the old Spy Hill School are just big enough for a single bed and dresser. (Niall McKenna/CBC)Clarke got to work, putting up walls and windows to create 30 small bedrooms — 80- to 90-square-feet each, just big enough for a dresser and a single bed.

"I was kind of taken back to my younger days when I was in school," said Cape Breton native Elmer Lewis, 62, who was the first worker to move in.

"I like it here. It's got the basics I need."

Those "basics" include all-you-can-eat homemade food. Last Thursday, roast beef and egg-salad sandwiches were on the menu.

"We're kind of worried about our figures here, you know?" said Lewis, with a chuckle. "We don't wanna get too big."

Clarke expects to fill every room within a few weeks.

Concerns about future

But that demand might be short-lived, as workers will soon move into a camp PotashCorp is building.

"If we had … had an organization that could have sat down with the mine and say, 'Listen, you don't need to build a camp. Our towns will see that this is looked after,'" said Clarke.

Spy Hill, population 200, is trying to cash in on the area's potash boom. Local politicians hope to boost the population by 50 per cent.Spy Hill, population 200, is trying to cash in on the area's potash boom. Local politicians hope to boost the population by 50 per cent. (Niall McKenna/CBC)"But if everybody sits on their hands and nobody says anything, what's the mine got to do? …They've got to have accommodations."

Some local councillors say the situation should improve for Spy Hill with the planned $3.15 billion expansion at another nearby mine, run by potash firm Mosaic.

Rural Municipality of Spy Hill Coun. Greg Robertson said the community has been assured it will be asked by the mine to help house temporary workers. Robertson expects the village's population to go up by 100 people, as temporary workers move in with trailers or stay at the old school.

Some might even stay on permanently.

"Say, two or three per cent of those people stay here, we win," said Robertson, who himself moved from Ontario to retire in the area.

As for Clarke, he has no plans to retire at the moment and sees the task of transforming the school into its own community once more as a challenge.

"Inactivity, whether it is the brain or whether it's the body, they are both muscles," said Clarke.

"And they'll disappear on you if you quit using them. So, I don't plan on doing that."