bonus features: 10 scrivener square

This post offers supplementary material for a recent Ghost City column written for The Grid, which you should read first before diving into this post.

Source: The Globe, September 10, 1915.

Besides Mayor Tommy Church, at least two other people spoke during the September 9, 1915 cornerstone ceremony for the Canadian Pacific Railway's new North Toronto station. CPR general manager A.D. MacTier thanked everyone for their assistance in initializing the project: “I hope that through this gathering I may be able to get to know your city officials, businessmen and the public generally, believing as I do that only by much personal friendship and knowledge of each other’s aims and needs can that mutual understanding and respect be created, without which the proper amicable relations between a large public utility and the people of a great city can neither be created nor maintained.”

Also speaking was jurist William Mulock, who referred to the ongoing conflict in Europe. According to the Globe, Mulock “observed that the Empire was engaged in a gigantic struggle, but ultimate victory for Britain and her allies was certain. The action of the CPR showed that they had confidence in the future, which had in store greater things for Canada and for the whole British Empire.”

bonus features: opposing the subway

This post offers supplementary material for a recent edition of Historicist posted on Torontoist, which you should read first before diving into the following text.

Headline, the Toronto Star, December 18, 1958.

Accompanying several of the stories I drew upon were plenty of  screaming front-page headlines. Or at least there were in the Star and the Telegram - it appears the Globe and Mail thought they were below their sober, reserved standard. TTC Chairman Allan "Lampy" Lamport soon caused enough problems for the transit provider on his own when he resigned his position several weeks later.

a tale of two game 7s

Click image for larger version of the front page of the May 2, 1993 edition of the Toronto Star.

I expected to run into honking cars galore.

Given last night was do-or-die time for the Maple Leafs, I figured there would be mass celebrations if they managed to survive the first round of the playoffs. In the checkout line at the Vic Park and Gerrard FreshCo, the customer ahead of me asked the clerk if she had heard any game updates. She had—it looked like the boys in blue were headed to victory.

Mentally noting that the game was almost over, I anticipated running into happy, honking fans spilling onto the streets. Drove west along Danforth. Nothing. Deciding I wanted to discover the result organically, the dial on my radio developed an allergy to hockey games.

The streets were still quiet when I reached home. No honking in the distance as there was when the Leafs won their first match in the series. Overtime, perhaps?

A quick glance at social media told me all I needed to know. It was going to be a silent night.

past pieces of toronto: fran's st. clair avenue

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on April 15, 2012.

Advertisement, the Globe and Mail, January 22, 1948.

The man probably struck the staff of Fran’s on St. Clair Avenue as eccentric. Most nights, he dropped into the 24-hour diner around 2 a.m., bundled up in a heavy coat regardless of weather, gloves covering his hands. Whether he spoke through his scarf or not, the order was the same every time: a plate of scrambled eggs. Given his nocturnal habits and its close proximity to his apartment, pianist Glenn Gould became a Fran’s fixture.

Catering to the habits of night owls like Gould was one reason the original location of Fran’s stayed in business for 61 years. As longtime customer Shirley Olejko told the Star when the restaurant closed in 2001,”when you were partying, after a long night you came here because nothing else was open.”
Francis Deck had worked for his brother’s Buffalo-based Deco restaurant chain for two decades before establishing his own 10-stool diner at 21 St. Clair Avenue West in 1940. The menu consisted of comfort foods like burgers (Fran’s introduced the banquet burger) and salads enhanced by dressings developed by Deck’s wife Ellen. The formula worked well, as the Decks opened two more locations by 1950.

ten years of gold

This is the first and last reference to Kenny Rogers in this post. Apologies to  fans of "The Gambler" hoping for more.

Tomorrow marks a decade since I jotted my first random thought online. The site has waxed and waned, from periods of prolific posting to a depository of reprints from defunct outlets. What started as an attempt to resurrect my university journal writing habit became the launch pad for my current writing career, even if many early entries were little more than text messages which I later wiped out.

The earliest screen capture I could find of the site, snapped June 2, 2004.

The ongoing process of reformatting and cleaning up old entries has revealed plenty of changes over the past decade. In May 2003, I had long dropped the notion of working at Canadian Tire’s head office for two years before moving on to something else. By year four, a comfort zone had set in. Yet old creative impulses reassert themselves. Writing had been a painful process since the black comedy of The Ontarion, an experience whose legacy would probably be diagnosed as a mild case of post-traumatic stress disorder. It didn’t help that an attempt to restart a written journal/scrapbook died when that notebook vanished along with the backpack it was resting in. Observing the world of blogs which emerged at that time, I thought it might be fun to see where writing one might lead to. One without flashing letters and bad MIDI files.

vintage facial massage equipment department

 

Source: the News, December 15, 1911

Initially I thought this piece was typical advertorial copy of the period. Reading on, a couple of things jumped out at me: no reference to a specific distributor/manufacturer, no mailing address, and no customer testimonials. It's a legitimate story about the latest innovations in facial massage technology.

It's easy to see why this invention never caught on - if the facial contraption fell off, drowning was a giant risk. If anything, this contraption resembles a proto-snorkel -- the inventor might have better directed his energy to developing deep-sea diving equipment.

these are a few of my favourite things

While processing a pile of backlogged vintage ads awhile back, I encountered a set of spots from a batch of mid-1980s issues of Maclean's promoting a period creamy liqueur. Each ad listed 21 favourite items of models straight from Eighties central casting. Which made me think: what would a list of 21 of my favourite things look like?

I loathe making "favourite" lists of any sort. Compiling "top ten" lists makes me shudder. Yet I love reading them. Go figure.

shameless self-promotion department

ITEM! If it's the first weekend in May, it's time for Jane's Walk. In just six years the annual event has grown from a handful of strolls around Toronto to walks in 25 countries. I've enjoyed the walks I've joined, and decided this year to lead one.

Toronto has long enjoyed one of the most competitive newspaper markets in North America. With no fewer than three major competing dailies at any time since the 1870s, Toronto readers are accustomed to a broad range of editorial viewpoints. Our papers have been run by a cast of characters including philanthropists, labour and social activists, political parties, comic strip enthusiasts, lousy businessmen, and Fathers of Confederation. The behind-the-scenes stories were often as dramatic as those that were printed in the pages of publications bearing banners like Empire, Globe, Mail, News, Star, Sun, Telegram, and World.

This walk will look at the sites where the news was produced, and how those sites were used as public gathering places, especially during election campaigns. We’ll reflect on the architecture lost when the cluster of newspaper offices around King and Bay gave way to financial towers. We’ll explore the circumstances under which some of today’s major dailies were born, and how nearly-forgotten papers died.

Where: Starting at the southeast corner of King Street East and Leader Lane (across the street from the King Edward Hotel).

When: Sunday, May 5, 2013, 2 p.m.

ITEM! Woke up to great news yesterday morning -- Kevin Plummer and I were nominated for a National Magazine Award in the "Blogs" category for our work on Torontoist's "Historicist" column. We've got pretty good company in our category [PDF of all nominees]. Coming on the heels of the column's fifth anniversary, this is a great honour. The winners will be announced on June 7.

vintage cringe-inducing medical breakthrough department

Source: the Telegram, March 22, 1922.

The same day that the Toronto Star heralded the work of Frederick Banting, Charles Best, J.B. Collip, J.J.R. Macleod and their associates for giving those afflicted with diabetes a "message of hope," this disgusting "medical breakthrough" appeared in the Telegram. I believe the same technology has been employed in fiction to cure vampirism. I also don't doubt that stories like this warmed the hearts of casually racist readers, or those who might have believed such a quack invention would truly improve humanity.

past pieces of toronto: the shell oil/bulova tower

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on March 4, 2012.

“Meet me at the Shell Tower” pamphlet, circa 1955, City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 261, Series 756, File 50, Item 1.

Oil can giveth, and oil can taketh away. That might be the easiest way to sum up the story of the 36-metre-high clock tower that provided Canadian National Exhibition visitors with a great view of the city and a foolproof meeting spot for 30 years. Born from sponsorship by an oil giant, the landmark died to make way for a car race.

Designed by architect George Robb, the modernist Shell Oil Tower was the first building in Toronto to utilize welded-steel construction. It quickly proved a popular attraction following its debut in 1955, thanks to promotional pitches like this one:

There’s a new landmark at the “Ex.” It’s the Shell Oil Tower, whose gleaming glass walls and giant clock add a new feature to the skyline. An elevator is waiting to whisk you to the observation platform, far above the ground, where you can look down on the breathtaking spectacle of the greatest show on earth, the Canadian National Exhibition...look out over Metropolitan Toronto. Here is a unique bird’s eye view which makes a trip up the Shell Tower a must for every visitor to the Exhibition. You’ll find the Shell Tower straight through the Princes’ Gates. Make it a meeting place—get into the habit of saying to your friends “Meet me at the Shell Oil Tower.”

past pieces of toronto: the gardiner expressway's eastern section

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on March 17, 2012.

Demolition of Leslie Street ramp viewed from north side of detour, looking south-east, photographed by Peter MacCallum, January 20, 2001, City of Toronto Archives, Series 572, File 77, Item 4.

As work began on the eastern extension of the Gardiner Expressway in 1964, the man whose name graced the highway was proud of the road that became one of his legacies. “You know,” said Frederick Gardiner, “I used to lie in bed dreaming in Technicolor, thinking it was too big. Now I know it isn’t. Maybe in 20 years time they’ll be cursing me for making it too small. But I won’t be around to worry then. Right now, I’ve come up smelling of Chanel No. 5.”

Outside of some nearby residents who missed what Globe and Mail columnist Michael Valpy called their “private freeway” and city councillors who curried their favour, few who looked at the eastern stump of the expressway cursed Gardiner for making it too small. Quite the opposite: as time passed, the stretch between the Don Valley Parkway and Leslie Street was viewed as a crumbling eyesore.

Part of the problem was that it was an orphan of Toronto’s expressway plan. When it opened in July 1966, the stump was the first phase of the Scarborough Expressway, which would have linked the Gardiner to Highway 401 near Highland Creek. Had a request to the Ontario Municipal Board from a citizen group inspired by the fight against the Spadina Expressway not delayed work, the next approved phase of the Scarborough Expressway would have extended it to Birchmount Road and Danforth Road. While Queen’s Park cancelled Spadina in June 1971, provincial officials were willing to fund a short extension of the Scarborough Expressway to Coxwell Avenue if the OMB approved it. While the demise of Spadina muted enthusiasm for the new expressway, as did the looming task of buying 1,000 houses blocking the full route. Despite the City of Scarborough’s continued support of the highway, Metro Council approved a report in 1974 that scrapped it entirely. By 1980, references to the Scarborough Expressway were removed from Metro’s official plan, leaving only a “transportation corridor.”

contributing time

Source: The Grid, April 18-24, 2013.

Yep, that's me in the contributor profile section of The Grid this week. Pretty good company here - it's funny both of us chose "war on the car" as the City Hall debate we're tired of.

The piece associated with this profile is online for your reading pleasure...or, if you're in Toronto, grab a copy from your friendly neighbourhood box.

bonus features: a box of laura secord

This post offers supplementary material for a recent edition of Historicist posted on Torontoist, which you should read first before diving into the following text.

Can you spot the Laura Secord shop in this picture? Click image for larger version. Streetcar track work at Queen, King, and Roncesvalles, April 23, 1923. Photo by Alfred Pearson. City of Toronto Archives, Series 71, Item 2058.

For a chain whose locations spread quickly across Toronto, finding good, close-up shots of a Laura Secord store from the City of Toronto Archives' online selection was like looking for a needle in a haystack. There's a sign here, a shop hidden behind hydro poles there, and generally good landscape shots where a Secord store is only a tiny portion of the picture.

A Laura Secord shop hiding behind a pole at the southeast corner of Yonge and Bloor. Maybe it was feeling shy when this shot was snapped on September 9, 1926. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 200, Series 372, Subseries 3, Item 646.

The historical essay contest Laura Secord sponsored in 1923 was amusing for the rigidity it was run with. I'm not sure praising entrants for their work while simultaneously criticizing them for going over the word limit was a brilliant idea. I suspect contest officials believed they did the right thing by showing the importance of literary discipline and following rules to the letter, and provide a warning to entrants to other essay contests. My question: by how much did those kids run over? Given the strong sense of toeing the line in those days, it wouldn't shock me if it was less than 25 words.

past pieces of toronto: ed's warehouse

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on February 19, 2012.

Cover detail from Honest Ed’s Story by Jack Batten (Toronto: Doubleday, 1972)

Honest Ed Mirvish had a giant beef with his restaurant empire on King Street West. A 500-ton-per-year-sized beef. Chosen as his signature dish due to the simplicity of cooking and serving it, the affordable roast beef dinners Mirvish devoured amid the bric-a-brac at Ed’s Warehouse and its sister restaurants kept actors, businessmen, theatregoers and tourists well fed for over 30 years. Diners enjoyed Yorkshire puddings, canned peas, Salvation-Army seating, galleries of forgotten actors and Tiffany-style lamps, but only so long as men donned a jacket and tie.

Long after most Toronto restaurants abandoned formal dining dress codes, Ed’s Warehouse stuck by its fashion policy. Show up without either jacket or tie, and staff either forced the garments upon diners (regardless of fit) or they were denied entry. How zealously were the rules enforced? A trio of teenaged Boy Scouts found out in November 1977, when their families chose Ed’s for a celebratory meal after the three Scouts received Duke of Edinburgh awards of excellence from Ontario Lieutenant-Governor Pauline McKibbon at Queen’s Park. The trio were required to wear their official uniforms at the ceremony and figured they wouldn’t be a problem when they dined out after. Wrong: the party was denied entry at both Ed’s Warehouse and neighbouring restaurant Old Ed’s, where Honest Ed himself reputedly gave the order to staff (the party ended up at a basement hotel cafeteria). Following the ensuing bad press, management conceded the Scouts should have been served, as clerics and Shriners were allowed to bend the rules.

past pieces of toronto: bata headquarters

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on April 8, 2012.

Bata Headquarters, Don Mills, circa 1965-1969. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 217, Series 249, File 356, Item 023.

Thomas Bata was proud that the Don Mills headquarters of his shoe empire was designed so that it couldn’t be expanded. He believed that the role of headquarters was not to dictate corporate policy, but to act as catalyst for stimulating new approaches to marketing and product development. “In outlining our specification to the architect,” he wrote in his autobiography Bata Shoemaker to the World, “we insisted that the building should be designed so that, if we were ever tempted to spawn a huge bureaucracy, we would be thwarted by the lack of space and immovable walls.” While Thomas Bata’s vision was fine as long as his company retained the property, it didn’t serve the building when it passed to other hands.

When Bata moved its base of operations from England to Canada in the early 1960s management briefly considered Batawa, the company town north of Trenton that the shoemaker developed during World War II, for the new headquarters. Issues Thomas Bata experienced across the Atlantic soured him on the idea. “I was aware of the problems that can arise when local management and corporate executives operate out of the same location,” he noted. “Seemingly trivial issues, such as who presides at public functions and whose wife opens the flower show, can become a source of friction. Above all, I was concerned that my presence in Batawa might undermine the stature and authority of the person who was running the Canadian company.” Thomas also worried about the lack of nearby international airports.

baby attacks chocolate easter egg, canadian actress hired as swimmer

Source: Daily Mirror (overseas edition), April 4, 1953.

One of the oddest Easter images found kicking around the ol' Warehouse. If the egg was smaller, it would be tempting to label this post "Giant Mutant Baby Altered by Nuclear Test Attacks Innocent Easter Egg." As it is, it's as goofy as a shot in the same browning bound edition of the British tabloid featuring Orson Welles wolfing down a bowl of spaghetti. Perhaps the Mirror should have sponsored an eating contest between this chocolate-loving child and the movie auteur.