The Death of Wilfrid Laurier

Toronto World, February 19, 1919.

“When the hour of final rest comes, when my eyes close forever, if I may pay myself this tribute, this simple tribute of having contributed to healing a single patriotic wound in the heart of a single one of my compatriots, of having thus advanced, as little as may be, the cause of unity, concord and harmony among the citizens of this country, then I will believe that my life has not been entirely in vain.”–Wilfrid Laurier, 1887.

On February 17, 1919, Toronto’s morning newspaper readers were informed that Sir Wilfrid Laurier’s health was declining following a series of strokes. Regardless of political affiliation, the early papers wished Laurier a speedy recovery.

The Globe (Liberal-leaning paper), February 17, 1919.

Mail and Empire (Conservative-leaning paper), February 17, 1919.

Toronto World (“independent” Conservative leaning), February 17, 1919.

The most pessimistic was the Daily News, which declared “NO HOPE HELD OUT FOR THE RECOVERY OF LIBERAL CHIEF.” The paper’s early afternoon update indicated that as of noon, doctors gave the federal opposition leader two hours to live. Another story speculated on who might replace him as Liberal leader after 32 years in charge, leaning toward Saskatchewan premier William Martin thanks to his support of Robert Borden’s Union government, which might help him woo fellow Liberal Unionists back into the fold. Among the other possibilities, former Renfrew South MP George Graham “proved such a wobbler last election that his name does not arouse enthusiasm” while William Lyon Mackenzie King “although able, was never popular and does not appeal to the rank and file of the party.”

Yup, Mackenzie King will never lead the Liberal party.

Toronto Daily News, February 17, 1919.

By the time the evening papers hit the streets of Toronto, Canada’s seventh prime minister (and then current leader of the opposition) was dead.

Toronto Star, February 17, 1919.

Among the tidbits the Star included was a column listing 30 titles Laurier had held during his life, from the federal seats he represented to numerous honorary degrees.

Toronto Star, February 17, 1919.

You may have noticed that the Telegram hasn’t been mentioned yet. Unless there was a special edition published which was not microfilm, the paper had very little to say. Given the rage the Tely had shown Laurier over the years, especially during the 1917 federal election, this isn’t surprising.

Over the next few days, there was little about Laurier’s passing in the Telegram. February 18’s front page editorial cartoon was about the League of Nations, while the following days returned to the usual gripes about local issues, politicians, and rival newspaper publishers. On the editorial page, Laurier isn’t mentioned until the fourth item, via a tribute which attacks his anti-conscription stance in 1917 by mentioning the sacrifices of those who died during the First World War. It was probably written by editor-in-chief “Black Jack” Robinson, one of the angriest, hyper-imperialist editorialists in Toronto history.

Evening Telegram, February 18, 1919.

The Globe, February 18, 1919.

If the Telegram attacked, then ignored, Laurier, the Globe praised his career with many pages of tributes. One article even praised his love of children.

The Globe, February 18, 1919.

Mail and Empire, February 18, 1919.

Toronto Daily News, February 18, 1919.

Toronto World, February 18, 1919.

Toronto Star, February 18, 1919.

The Star published numerous tributes from local dignitaries ranging from Chief Justice of Ontario Sir William Meredith (“he possessed to a remarkable degree the confidence of a century”) to University of Toronto president Sir Robert Falconer (“his personality was most charming”).

Toronto Star, February 18, 1919.

As with the passing of any major figure of the era, poems, such as this one by cartoonist J.W. Bengough.

The Globe, February 21, 1919.

The final word goes to the Mail and Empire‘s “Flaneur,”  who brings up a term often used in association with Laurier: “the first Canadian.”

Mail and Empire, February 22, 1919.

Additional material from Wilfrid Laurier by André Pratte (Toronto: Penguin, 2011).

 

Trash Panda Thursday: Tales from the Naughty Nineties

Raccoon furs were frequently advertised in Toronto newspapers during the late 19th century. Among the vendors was the original location of Fairweather. The Globe, March 10, 1896.

A pair of short stories from the 1890s this week…

From the May 21, 1895 edition of the Toronto Star, under the possibly-a-racist-joke title “A New Coon in Town.” We do not recommend risking your life the way one participant in this story did.

At the corner of Queen and Berkeley Streets at eight o’clock this morning five hundred people congregated to witness the antics of a raccoon that had escaped from its owner and had taken refuge on a telegraph pole. A man climbed the post with a bag to capture the animal, and narrowly escaped breaking his neck. The coon finally jumped from the top of the pole without suffering serious injury.

(Among the many reasons I’m wondering about the nature of the article’s title? Near the top of the same page is an ad for a Yonge Street clothier depicting a baby in blackface.)

The Globe, December 16, 1896. 

From the May 2, 1899 edition of The Globe, under the heading “Want a Game Preserve,” it sounds like raccoons were not the only urban wildlife found near The Annex:

People in the north end of the city are beginning to think a menagerie has been turned loose in that vicinity. On Saturday a raccoon was captured on Bloor Street and the incident caused some talk. On Sunday afternoon Miss Jessie Alexander, while walking down Brunswick Avenue, met a young bear, who was taking a stroll. The presence of the cub was reported to the police, and he was taken into captivity, and now the residents of the street are waiting for a boa constrictor or a monster lion.

Vintage Toronto Ads: A Valentine’s Day Sampler

Valentine’s Day

Originally published on Torontoist on February 11, 2015.

The Globe, February 8, 1928.

Valentine’s Day: a time to demonstrate one’s appreciation for others, to profess one’s love, and to write florid verse and purple prose in the name of Cupid. Celebrating love on February 14 (or surrounding days, if it fell on Sunday) has been a long, profitable tradition for Torontonians.

One of the earliest commentaries we found was a Globe editorial published in 1858. The elevated prose that publisher George Brown and his writers used forces modern readers to refer to a dictionary. For example, booksellers offering Valentine’s Day stationery were “bibliopoles,” a term we’re waiting for an enterprising young entrepreneur to use any day now. A sample of the Globe’s thoughts:

Our bibliopoles have right diligently done their part to secure the due celebration of the mysteries pertaining to this time-honoured festival. For weeks have the counters and windows of their marts have been profusely garnished with amatory missives, exhibiting all the canonical adornments peculiar to such documents. Dan Cupid there drives teems of harnessed doves, as he was wont to do when “our auld cloak was new,” and smirking couples wend their way “ankle deep in flowers” towards rural churches climaxed with tiny spires suggestive of toothpicks.

The Globe, February 12, 1931.

By 1862, Toronto’s post office processed 3,500 valentines on February 14. Though rumours suggested sending greetings was passé, stationers reported strong sales, especially among high-end products. “Those of a comic character were sold in large quantities, but the great demand was for those with embossed edges, varying from a quarter to five dollars,” the Globe observed. “The post office was crowded with the fair sex all day; and the smiles on their faces, as they left, showed that their swains had generally done the proper thing.”

During the Victorian era, the degeneration of valentines into cards with grotesque, insensitive jokes was heavily criticized. Cheaper cards replaced sentiment with insults and, the Globe reported in 1889, “the effect upon the unfortunate receiver must be like that of a quart of dishwater thrown from some unseen window.” A valentine sent to a pharmacist might insinuate he was a quack, while a young woman might receive a card inferring she had loose morals. “It is not good even for children to be the carriers of insults the full meaning of which they do not understand.”

The Globe, February 10, 1933.

Sentimentality was back in fashion when the Great Depression hit. As the economy tanked, caring thoughts and tender reassurances written in valentines provided solace. Around 150,000 valentines were distributed by Toronto mail carriers on Valentine’s Day 1930. The Globe glimpsed the feeling around the city that year:

Sweethearts are giving expressions to their affection in generous measure today and they are “saying it” with valentines. Perchance it is but a dainty card or folder, charmingly embellished with lace and cupids and intriguing bits of verse, and again the valentine may take the form of a basket of red roses or heart-shaped boxes of candies. Twilight last evening fell upon a city seething with excitement akin to that one finds on Christmas Eve, with book stores, candy shops, and florists crowded with young men with dreamy eyes, and thoughtful husbands.

Additional material from the February 13, 1858, February 15, 1862, February 14, 1889, and February 14, 1930 editions of the Globe.

Valentine’s Day ’54

Originally posted on Torontoist on February 10, 2009.

Toronto Star, February 12, 1954.

Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us, a day of happy lovers and happier chocolate purveyors. Back in 1954, two of the city’s larger candy chains filled the newspapers with ads showing off their sweet suggestions. Beyond wolfing down bonbons, what else could sweethearts do that year?

There was the option of more food. Culinary columnists provided their ideas for suitable meals and treats for lovebirds to make at home, which would have helpful in 1954 as Valentine’s Day fell on a Sunday, a day when entertainment options outside the home were limited. The Telegram proposed a full buffet consisting of baked Virginia ham, sweet potato casserole, tossed salad, French bread, cranberry/celery salad, iced relishes, and Cherries Jubilee with ice cream. This spread may have been a plot to fill up diners so much that they wouldn’t be in the mood for any monkey business later on. Margaret Carr of the Toronto Star offered up a strawberry-almond mould loaded with gelatin, ladyfingers, and “frills of whipped cream” that may have stimulated a few lovers. The Globe and Mail determined that a one-bowl orange cake was appropriate, as long as one mixed the batter with six hundred spoon strokes—three hundred before the eggs were added, three hundred after. One stroke too many and both the cake and the romance would be ruined.

The Telegram, February 11, 1954.

If you were unable to come up with a poem to deliver to your Valentine, editorial pages came to the rescue, especially if you were as negligent in delivering your wishes as the protagonist of the Star’s offering, Len G. Selle’s Valentine:

Oh, lovely girl who reads this verse
Think not I am unwise;
I know the softness of your hair
The languer in your eyes.
The laughter of your “rosebud mouth”
And “teeth like pearls”—I guess;
It just remains, my love, for you
To send me your address.

Ah, what a novel scheme this is
To win a Valentine,
To advertise my heart’s desire
At nothing flat a line?
But breathing on my shoulder
Is my last important date…
Alas, this little Valentine
Is twenty years too late!

At the University of Toronto, University College co-eds celebrated by re-enacting Valentine rituals from 1754. These included pinning bay leaves on pillows to ensure any sweethearts dreamed of would be yours within a year, a performance of a play that used creepy masks, and writing names of suitors on slips of paper, rolling them in clay, and dropping them in a jar of water, with the first to float indicating the lucky man.
Modern rituals were the focus of the Telegram’s “Teen Talk” column, where Cynthia Williams offered advice:

Are you trying to woo and win the lady of your choice? Are you trying to get rid of a dope who has been stalking your steps for the past six months? Now’s your chance! Ready-made! But here’s a pointer, boys, if you do want to be popular. The girl, or girls, in your life might not be expecting a card, but believe me, you’ll be number one boy if you remember to send one! And girls, I did get a few of the boys to admit that they were kind of flattered if they got cards, even unsigned ones, that piqued their curiosity!

No mention was made of what a small gift of chocolates could do.

Additional material from the February 11, 1954 and February 12, 1954 editions of the Globe and Mail, the February 13, 1954 edition of the Telegram, and the February 9, 1954 and February 13, 1954 editions of the Toronto Star.

ADDITIONAL MATERIAL

Two of the recipes mentioned in this story…

Toronto Star, February 9, 1954.

Globe and Mail, February 12, 1954.

“We don’t want to become a city of moles”

This installment of my “Retro T.O.” online column for The Grid was originally published on May 22, 2012.

Toronto Star, December 18, 1971.

To some, it provided a welcome respite from braving the elements on their lunch break. For others, especially those working in its retail outlets, it made them feel like a mole. The three kilometres of underground shopping malls and tunnels that 175,000 office workers passed through daily in May 1980 formed the spine from which today’s PATH system grew.

Since the opening of the Toronto-Dominion Centre’s sub-surface shopping complex in 1967, planners and developers envisioned an underground network connecting the core’s major business, shopping, and transportation facilities. One of the first reports commissioned by the city was 1968’s “On Foot Downtown,” which concluded that downtown pedestrians required a space that wasn’t impeded by industrial pollution, noise, traffic congestion, or too many of their fellow human beings. “We had reached the point where sidewalks couldn’t handle all the people,” former Toronto planning commissioner Matthew Lawson told the Star in 1980. “At the same time, all our forecasts said such conditions would only worsen because of the growth of the downtown work force.”

It was hoped that a climate-controlled underground route would avert these problems and provide protection from Mother Nature—as Toronto development commissioner Graham Emslie told the Star in 1971, “let’s face it, there are a hell of a lot of days you’d just as soon not walk outside.” The first major connection in the primordial PATH, which linked Nathan Phillips Square to the Richmond-Adelaide Centre, opened in January 1973. By May 1980, apart from a gap at Adelaide Street that became a haven for jaywalkers, one could wander underground from City Hall to Union Station.

Toronto Star, November 17, 1973. Click on image for larger version.

While many users extolled the network’s conveniences, some urban planners and consultants were alarmed by the potential effects on surface life. An adviser to a planned revitalization of Yonge Street found it “worrisome” that in the future, people would take the subway downtown, shop at the Eaton Centre and other underground shopping complexes, then head home without ever setting foot outdoors. “We don’t want to become a city of moles,” noted Toronto planning and development commissioner Steve McLaughlin. To mitigate such a fate, a recently written central plan for the city encouraged developers to place higher priority on street-level retail in future buildings. According to McLaughlin, “we don’t want the downtown streets to contain nothing more than block after block of office lobbies.”

Toronto Star, May 3, 1980. Click on image for larger version.

Back underground, Downtown Business Council president David Arscott provided the Star with a shopping list of improvements. Filling the gap under Adelaide Street was critical, as was a proper orientation system to give users a sense of which surface landmarks they were wandering under. Complaints Arscott received that required addressing included narrow walkways, poor lighting, low ceilings, and boring street entrances. “We are still in a primitive stage of the art,” said Arscott. “We have a lot to learn from experience.”

Downtown Toronto underground pedestrian mall system, 1981. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 200, Series 1465, File 408, Item 5.

Within the next decade, some of those issues were resolved. The Adelaide gap was fixed in 1984, while a tunnel opened under Bay Street in 1990 that properly connected the Eaton Centre and Simpsons (now The Bay) to the rest of the PATH. Signage would long remain a problem, one caught between city politicians who wanted clear wayfinding versus landlords who didn’t want to create the impression that the network was a truly public space.

“People bound for jobs in the financial district pour out of Union station into the underground mall section of the Royal Bank Plaza. It’s been described as an ‘environmental vaccuum’ by some due to the poor artificial lighting and the mechanically recirculated stale air.” Photo by Erin Combs, 1985. Toronto Star Photo Archive, Toronto Public Library.

While a few people may have mutated into moles over the years, the surface streets remain filled with those seeking a breath of unfiltered air during the workday.

Additional material from the December 18, 1971, January 11, 1973, and May 3, 1980 editions of the Toronto Star.

Trash Panda Thursday: Introduction

Illustration from Brehm’s Life of animals : a complete natural history for popular home instruction and for the use of schools. Mammalia (Chicago: Marquis, 1896). Flickr Commons.

The common raccoon (Procyon lotor) is a mid-size mammal distinguished by its black face mask and ringed tail. It is a member of the Procyonidae, a primarily tropical family of omnivores native to the Americas — and the only one of this family found in Canada. Raccoons are found in every province except Newfoundland and Labrador. A nocturnal species, it is highly adaptable and can survive in urban areas as well as wilderness habitats. Humans often consider raccoons pests due to their skill and persistence in raiding garbage bins, gardens and crops for food. – The Canadian Encyclopedia

I recently shared on social media a story I’d stumbled upon during a research dumpster dive into archived Toronto newspapers. It was a 50-year-old Toronto Star article about a heroic raccoon.

Toronto Star, January 10, 1969.

It may have received the largest number of hits, retweets, etc., for anything I’ve ever personally posted.

Which sparked an idea.

There’s an appetite for stories about raccoons and Toronto. We’re fascinated by reports of their ingenuity, whether it’s conducting home invasions or opening raccoon-proof compost bins. Partly because of their craftiness, and partly because they’re everywhere, “trash pandas” are the city’s unofficial mascot.

Raccoons are one of the few wildlife species that have thrived despite human expansion. Those accustomed to urban settings are skilled at raiding waste bins in search of human leftovers. As opportunistic feeders, they are naturally curious. They will try to open any container or bin that contains food, and they often succeed in this task. This has become such a problem in Toronto, Ontario that the city introduced “raccoon-resistant” green bins in 2016. – The Canadian Encyclopedia

They also have few f**ks to give. Whenever you stare them down as they dig for treasure in a garbage bin, their eyes tell you that they don’t take your threat to ruin their fun seriously. Their escapades, and nuisance factor to homeowners, represent the outlaw spirit people hate to admit they admire.

Illustration from Children’s Own Library (1910). Flickr Commons.

The Raccoon is about the size of a fox, and an inhabitant of Canada and other parts of America. It is said to wash its food before eating it. Its skin is valuable, and is much sought after. The food of the Raccoon is principally small animals and insects. Like a squirrel when eating a nut, the raccoon usually holds its food between its fore-paws pressed together, and sits upon its hind-quarters while it eats. Like the fox, it prowls by night. – Jennie Ellis Burdick and Charles Welsh, Children’s Own Library (New York: National Library Company, 1910).

So, in honour of the raccoon, I’m launching Trash Panda Thursdays. Each week, I’ll share stories, ads, and other materials marking the long history of raccoons in Toronto.

The Globe, April 24, 1854.

Browsing the Globe archives, the earliest reference using “raccoon” as a search term is an advertisement running throughout April 1854 offering cash for skins required for fulfil “an extensive order” for British and European furriers.

For much of the 19th century, raccoons only received press when they were transformed into a stylish hat or fashion accessory. For a tale involving a live specimen, let’s jump to a December 23, 1871 Globe feature surveying the Christmas season offerings from vendors at St. Lawrence Market. A pet raccoon was used by one of the vendors to distract customers away from other butchers displaying their finest livestock carcasses.

Mr. Fred Robson shows eight very fine cattle, which were purchased at the late Guelph fair, and also ten fine carcasses of mutton. A good deal of attention was attracted to Mr. Robson’s stall yesterday by the gambols of a playful young pet raccoon.

19th century language alert: according to Merriam-Webster, “gambol” means “a skipping or leaping about in play.”

Coming soon: children’s stories, ads from venerable retailers, and baby raccoons galore at Riverdale Zoo.

“This The Day When the Ground Hog Comes Out”

Toronto Star, February 2, 1912.

Posted above is the earliest front page story regarding Groundhog Day published by either the Globe or the Star.

On that day’s editorial page, the Star published a piece about the occasion by syndicated poet Walt Mason (1862-1939).

Toronto Star, February 7, 1908.

Here’s the earliest story from the Star about Groundhog Day, though it’s less about the day, more about farmers from southwest Ontario petitioning the provincial legislature for the right to shoot the critters.

The Canadian Encyclopedia has a lengthier look at the day’s origins, and its history in Canada.

More Power To Your East End Food Dollar

Originally published as a “Historicist” column on Torontoist on November 29, 2008.

Power Supermarket, 1953. City of Toronto Archives, fonds 1257, series 1057, item 496.

November 12, 1953: shoppers descended on Danforth Avenue a few doors west of Woodbine to await the grand opening of the eighth store in the budget-conscious Power supermarket chain. Care to join the crowd and check out the offers in aisle three?

Advertisement, Toronto Star, November 11, 1953.

The Power chain’s origins dated to 1904, when Samuel and Sarah Weinstein opened a grocery store named after themselves near present-day Bay and Dundas. The family’s first store under the low-cost Power banner opened at Coxwell and Danforth in 1933 with the slogan “Why Pay for Fixtures?” The same year that 2055 Danforth Avenue opened, Power was purchased by Loblaw Groceterias but maintained a distinct identity and independent marketing policies. Samuel and Sarah’s son Leon ran the company by this point and eventually served as president of Loblaws from 1968 to 1970.

Power Supermarket, 1953. City of Toronto Archives, fonds 1257, series 1057, item 498.

The grand opening ad was posted by the front door. Staff and dignitaries were photographed as they pondered how to cut the ribbon before letting shoppers in. Scissors? Knife? A quick chop with the flower bouquet?

Power Supermarket, 1953. City of Toronto Archives, fonds 1257, series 1057, item 499.

These bag boys were primed to start packing away purchases. Current city officials would be proud of the paper bags on display.

Power Supermarket, 1953. City of Toronto Archives, fonds 1257, series 1057, item 500.

The Power name faded away during reorganizations of Loblaws store banners in the 1970s. The company still operates at least two of the locations listed in the grand opening ad as No Frills stores (Parliament Street and Eglinton Avenue West), while the Sunnybrook Plaza store now operates as a Pharma Plus. As for 2055 Danforth…

…it sits vacant, surrounded by a fence bearing “no trespassing” signs.

Additional material from the June 18, 1968 edition of the Globe and Mail.

UPDATE

The site was eventually filled in and, as of winter 2019, is occupied at street level by a Firkin pub.

ADDITIONAL MATERIAL

Toronto Star, November 25, 1960.

A profile of the Weinstein family. The date given for the launch of Loblaws is a little off – it was 1919, not 1921.

Beyond the grocery business, Leon Weinstein was urged to run for the Liberals as a Toronto mayoral candidate in 1969, as I recounted in this excerpt from a Historicist column on that campaign:

The Liberals were eager to enter the municipal ring, figuring that their dominance of the city’s federal seats could translate into votes at City Hall. The party’s efforts at securing a potential mayoral candidate were headed by Davey, who spent most of the year (unsuccessfully) on the prowl. Longstanding councillors with ties to the party resisted and vowed to remain independent candidates to earn as many votes as possible—as former controller and mayor Allan Lamport put it, “why should I put on a party label and alienate the other fellows?” Splits among federal and provincial party officials about the wisdom of entering municipal politics did not help the process. The process of choosing a mayoral candidate turned the party’s convention at St. Lawrence Hall on September 23 into a fiasco. Early in the evening, three people were nominated, including a thirty-one year-old political scientist named Stephen Clarkson. Among those in the crowd was Loblaws Groceterias president Leon Weinstein, who was whisked away into a separate room and urged to run. Through a series of misunderstandings, Weinstein agreed on the condition that he would be the only candidate to be nominated, which wasn’t the case. After much confusion, during which Weinstein’s was submitted for the ballot minutes before nominations closed and Davey attempted to convince Clarkson to drop out, Weinstein took the podium. He announced that he wasn’t interested in the job then left the room, reportedly in tears—Globe and Mail reporter Michael Enright summed up Weinstein’s night as “a walking study in political innocence.” Clarkson fell short of a majority by two votes on the first ballot, but his remaining challengers decided to throw in the towel and back him. Clarkson’s victory drew a tepid reaction and many of the attendees felt disillusioned with party brass.

Globe and Mail, December 9, 1966, Click on image for larger version.

Can you find where Power fit in the giant flow chart of companies partly or fully by Loblaws and the Weston family in the mid-1960s?