JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

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 To

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 free

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.

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, I

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

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 p