Books on Tom Thomson Could Fill A Small Library; The Ghost Canoe Of The Lost Artist

A Landmark reference book on the life and work of Tom Thomson, by David Silcox and Harold Town

1970's book by Judge William Little that opened public debate on Tom Thomson's death

BOOKS I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT - I'D FEEL NAKED AS A BIBLIOPHILE. IF ALL OF A SUDDEN THEY WERE GONE

THE HERITAGE RESOURCES THAT GET A WORK-OUT EVERY MONTH - NUMBER ONE "ANYTHING ABOUT CANADIAN ARTIST, TOM THOMSON"


     WORKING IN THE STUDIO OF OUR GRAVENHURST SHOP, IS LIKE HAVING A CHAIR SMACK-DAB IN THE MIDDLE OF ALICE'S WONDERLAND. THERE ARE THINGS HAPPENING HERE, YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE; EVENTS AND STRANGE VISITATIONS IN A CASUAL, SOCIAL / CULTURAL SENSE, THAT I FIND BOTH REMARKABLE, ON THE SIDE OF THE FANTASTIC, EVEN TO A SORT OF FICTION THAT MAKES ME ASK THE BOYS, IF WHAT HAPPENED MOMENTS EARLIER, WAS A DAYDREAM OR A SUDDEN REALITY. I WANT TO SEE THE JUST RELEASED MOVIE "THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL," BECAUSE SHORT OF MURDER PLOTS, I THINK THE WRITERS MUST HAVE BEEN IN OUR SHOP FOR AN AFTERNOON FINDING THEIR INSPIRATION. IT'S THAT WILD IN HERE. IN A GOOD WAY OF COURSE. THIS HAS BECOME AS MUCH A "THEATRE STAGE," WHERE ALL KINDS OF CREATIVE ENERGY IS EXPENDED, ALL DAY, EVERY DAY, WITH VERY INTERESTING OUTCOMES. I'VE BEEN TRYING TO WRITE THIS BLOG FOR THE PAST FOUR HOURS. IN THAT TIME, I HAVE HAD AT LEAST TWENTY FLY-BYS, OF PEOPLE HERE TO PLAY OUR PLETHORA OF MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, AS WELL AS HAVING SOME OF MY REGULAR CRONIES DROP BY FOR A LITTLE AFTERNOON VISIT. I'VE LISTENED TO AN UPRIGHT BASS BEING PLAYED, THREE GUITARS, INDIVIDUALLY, A MANDOLIN, AN ORGAN, AND A BANJO FROM SOMEWHERE DOWN THE HALL. IN THE MEANTIME, SUZANNE HAS BROUGHT ME TWO PAINTINGS FOR EVALUATIONS, AND ASKED MY OPINION ON A CUSTOM ORDER FOR FINGERLESS GLOVES, SHE'S KNITTING FOR A CLIENT-FRIEND OF OURS. GET THIS! SHE'S USING HUNDRED YEAR OLD WOOL, STILL IN THE ORIGINAL SKEENS.
    THERE HAVE BEEN THREE STUDIO TOURS, AND I'VE HAD CHATS WITH EACH GROUP, BECAUSE I'M SORT OF IN THE WAY AND I LIKE TO TALK. IT'S ALL A LOT OF FUN, AS I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT PREVIOUSLY, EXCEPT THE PART ABOUT MY OWN CONTINUITY. I'VE BEEN TRYING TO PROOF-READ MY COPY FOR THE PAST HALF HOUR, AND DURING THAT TIME, I'VE BEEN OFFERED HOME-MADE GRANOLA, FROM A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY, (I NEARLY CHOCKED TO DEATH WHEN I INHALED CRUMBS) SEVEN CHERRY TOMATOES, FROM ROBERT'S LEFTOVER SALAD, A CUP OF COFFEE BROUGHT IN BY ANOTHER PATRON OF THE ARTS, AND THEN SPILLED THAT SAME COFFEE ALL OVER MY SHIRT, WHEN I WAS ACCIDENTALLY ELBOWED BY A PASSERBY IN CLOSE QUARTERS, WITH A SNARE DRUM UNDER HIS ARM. DAMN THING IS, I TRIED TO WRITE AT HOME THE OTHER NIGHT, AND I HAD TO GIVE UP AFTER AN HOUR STARING AT THE FLICKERING SCREEN. I TOLD SUZANNE THAT UNLESS SHE WAS GOING TO CREATE SOME KIND OF SUBSTANTIAL DIN, OR INVITE THE NEIGHBORHOOD IN FOR A MEET AND GREET, THE SILENCE WAS GOING TO END MY WRITING RELATIONSHIP WITH BIRCH HOLLOW. IN ONLY A FEW MONTHS OF THIS PLEASANT RECREATION, UPTOWN, IN THE MIDST OF TRYING TO WRITE THIS BLOG, I HAVE BECOME A SOUND ADDICT; NOW I CAN'T PRODUCE MUCH OF ANYTHING, BEYOND THE TITLE, UNLESS THINGS GET WEIRD HERE, AND SUDDENLY SOMEONE SITS DOWN ON A CHAIR, AND BEGINS PICKING AT A BANJO; OR BEATING ON THE DRUMS. SO PLEASE, FORGIVE SOME OF THE DIGRESSIONS, BUT THEY ARE ALL VERY AGREEABLE TO THE WRITER IN RESIDENCE, WHO AT BEST CAN CLAIM TO BE THE AUTHOR OF A MOSAIC CHAPTER; A DAY IN THE LIFE. BUT AS I'VE WARNED, IF YOU INTERRUPT MY SOLITUDE, YOU MAY BECOME PART OF MY STORY-LINE.
     I REMEMBER TALKING ON THE PHONE, ONE AUTUMN AFTERNOON, WITH THE DAUGHTER OF JUDGE WILLIAM LITTLE, AUTHOR OF "THE TOM THOMSON MYSTERY," AND SUDDENLY SHIFTING OUR CONVERSATION TO HER FAMILY'S OLD FRIEND, JACK EASTAUGH. JACK EASTAUGH, A LONG TIME ART INSTRUCTOR AT THE TAYLOR-STATTEN SUMMER CAMPS, ON CANOE LAKE, HAD BEEN WITH WILLIAM LITTLE, WHEN THEY, AND TWO OTHER MATES FROM THE CANOE LAKE COMMUNITY, PARTICIPATED IN AN UNAUTHORIZED EXHUMATION, OF THE UNMARKED GRAVE OF CANADIAN ARTIST TOM THOMSON, BACK IN THE 1950'S. THE SHORT VERSION OF THIS, IS THAT AFTER SEVERAL EXCAVATION ATTEMPTS, THE FOURSOME DID FIND THE REMAINS OF THOMSON'S ORIGINAL COFFIN, AND SKELETAL REMAINS. LITTLE HAD PROVEN HIS LONG-HELD THEORY. DESPITE WHAT THE OFFICIAL DOCUMENTATION STATED, DATING BACK TO JULY OF 1917, (AFTER THOMSON'S BODY WAS PULLED FROM THE LAKE, ATTRIBUTED TO ACCIDENTAL DROWNING), THE ARTIST'S MOWET CEMETERY GRAVE HAD NEVER BEEN EXHUMED; UNTIL, OF COURSE, LITTLE AND EASTAUGH PUT THEIR SHOVELS INTO THE ALGONQUIN EARTH FORTY ODD YEARS LATER. IT WAS A BIG "OOPS" MOMENT FOR THE PROVINCE, BECAUSE FINDING A BODY IN A GRAVE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE EMPTY, WAS A QUITE EMBARRASSING. IT'S WHAT JANE AND I WERE TALKING ABOUT ON THE PHONE, WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, I BEGAN TO STUDY A SMALL WATERCOLOR HUNG ON THE WALL, JUST ABOVE THE PHONE TABLE. IT WAS ONE OF SUZANNE'S FAVORITE PAINTINGS, OF HUNDREDS WE HAD MOUNTED AROUND THE HOUSE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT MADE ME LOOK CLOSER AT THE SMALL PAINTING OF A LAKE AND ISLAND, BUT THERE IT WAS; ONE OF MANY COINCIDENCES I HAVE EXPERIENCED, WORKING ON THOMSON RESEARCH. "YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO BELIVE THIS, JANE, BUT I'M LOOKING AT A JACK EASTAUGH ORIGINAL PAINTING RIGHT NOW." HONEST TO GOD, I HAD NEVER LOOKED AT THE SIGNATURE BEFORE. WE PICKED IT UP AT A THRIFT SHOP IN HUNTSVILLE, BECAUSE SUZANNE HAD A PLACE IN MIND THAT IT WOULD FIT THE SURROUNDINGS. SO AT THE VERY MOMENT I'M RECALLING THE EXHUMATION OF THE REMAINS OF TOM THOMSON, WITH THE DAUGHTER OF ONE OF THOSE PARTICIPANTS MANNING THE SHOVELS, THAT DAY, THE OTHER PARTNER'S PICTURE IS STARING ME IN THE FACE. AS TIME WENT ON, AND I IMMERSED MYSELF EVER DEEPER IN THOMSON RESEARCH, THE COINCIDENCES BECAME A CHAPTER ON THEIR OWN. FOR MUCH OF THIS, THE COINCIDENCES PROVIDED OPPORTUNITIES TO ACQUIRE RESOURCE MATERIALS, BOOKS AND PAPER RELATED TO THE ARTIST'S BIOGRAPHY. EACH TIME I PUBLISHED A SERIES OF COLUMNS, REGARDING THE THOMSON MYSTERY, I'D RECEIVE PACKETS OF OLD CLIPPINGS AND MAGAZINES WITH STORIES ABOUT THOMSON AND THE LATER GROUP OF SEVEN ARTISTS; A GROUP THOMSON INSPIRED, BUT HAD DIED BEFORE ITS CREATION.
     I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS MANY TIMES IN THE PAST, BUT IN THE CONTEXT OF TODAY'S BLOG, IT IS NECESSARY TO REVISIT HOW I GOT STARTED, CARRYING FORTH THE RESEARCH, REGARDING THE MYSTERY OF TOM THOMSON'S DEATH. IT CAME SHORTLY AFTER THE DEATH OF WILLIAM LITTLE. I WAS READING A CONTRIBUTED COLUMN, WRITTEN BY LEGENDARY ALGONQUIN PARK TRAPPER, RALPH BICE, PUBLISHED IN A LOCAL MUSKOKA DISTRICT NEWSPAPER, KNOWN AS THE WEEKENDER. WHAT BOTHERED ME ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR COLUMN'S SLANT, WAS THAT IT MOCKED THE THEORIES PUT FORWARD BY JUDGE LITTLE, IN HIS EARLY 1970'S LANDMARK BOOK, "THE TOM THOMSON MYSTERY." BICE REFUTED LITTLE'S CLAIMS THAT THOMSON HAD MET WITH FOUL PLAY, INSTEAD OF THE CORONER'S REPORT TO THE CONTRARY, THAT THOMSON HAD DIED OF ACCIDENTAL DROWNING. BICE EVEN CLAIMED THAT THOMSON WAS A POOR CANOEIST, AND A HEAVY DRINKER, WHO HAD A RECKLESS STREAK WHEN IT CAME TO MIXING THE TWO. IT IS NOTED, BY BICE, THAT HE HAD BEEN IN THE PARK AT THE TIME THOMSON WAS GUIDING AND PAINTING, SO HE DID HAVE SOME INTIMATE KNOWLEDGE OF WHAT HE WAS WRITING ABOUT. WHAT LITTLE HAD CLAIMED, ABOUT THOMSON BEING WHACKED ON THE HEAD, BY AN ASSAILANT, AND THEN DUMPED IN THE WATER, TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE HE HAD DROWNED BY MISADVENTURE, BICE CLAIMED THAT INSTEAD, IT WAS PROBABLY, THAT THE ARTIST, TRYING TO RELIEVE HIMSELF OVER THE GUNNEL OF THE CANOE, SIMPLY TOPPLED OUT AND HIT HIS HEAD ON THE WOODWORK AS HE FELL. HE WAS UNCONSCIOUS WHEN HE HIT THE WATER, AND DROWNED AS A RESULT. WHAT I THOUGHT WAS UNFAIR ABOUT THIS, ON BICE'S PART, WAS THAT JUDGE LITTLE COULDN'T DEFEND HIS POSITION. I WONDERED IF LITTLE'S DEATH, GAVE BICE THE OPPORTUNITY TO GET THE LAST WORD-IN, ON THE UNSOLVED MYSTERY OF THE ARTIST'S FINAL MOMENTS.
     THE COINCIDENCE IS THIS; I WENT UP TO THE GRAVENHURST THRIFT SHOP, FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER READING BICE'S COLUMN, (WHICH I READ WHILE HAVING A BOWL OF SOUP FOR LUNCH), AND THE FIRST BOOK THAT CAUGHT MY ATTENTION, ON THE CLUTTERED SHELF OF USED BOOKS, WAS A SIGNED, HARDCOVER FIRST EDITION, WITH A PRISTINE DUSTJACKET, OF "THE TOM THOMSON MYSTERY." I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE ODDS OF THAT HAPPENING WOULD HAVE BEEN, IF A STATISTICIAN HAD BEEN CONSULTED; BUT ALL THAT MATTERED, WAS THAT IT WAS COMING HOME WITH ME. THE FIRST TIME I WAS INTRODUCED TO THE BOOK AND THE MYSTERY, WAS SHORTLY AFTER I HAD STARTED HIGH SCHOOL, WHEN I WATCHED THE CBC DOCUMENTARY, ON THE TOM THOMSON MYSTERY, CIRCA 1970; THAT OF COURSE, HAD BEEN INSPIRED BY JUDGE LITTLE'S NEWLY RELEASED BOOK. SO FINALLY GETTING MY OWN COPY OF THE BOOK, WITH THE BONUS OF IT BEING SIGNED, WAS A SIGN IN ITSELF, THAT THOMSON AND I WERE ABOUT TO HAVE A CLOSER RELATIONSHIP. I MADE THE PURCHASE. ONE DOLLAR. I READ THE WHOLE BOOK THAT AFTERNOON, AND A MONTH LATER, I READ IT AGAIN. I THINK I'VE PROBABLY READ THE BOOK FIVE TIMES SINCE, AND ON EACH OCCASION, I FIND SOMETHING I MISSED PREVIOUSLY. THERE IS A LOT OF INFORMATION CONTAINED IN THE WELL WRITTEN BOOK; SO IT'S EASY TO OVERLOOK SOME DETAIL IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTANDING THE STORY.
     FROM RALPH BICE'S PROVOCATIVE COLUMN, TO FINDING A COPY OF WILLIAM LITTLE'S IMPORTANT BOOK, THE SEED OF OBSESSIVE INTEREST IN THE LIFE AND WORK OF TOM THOMSON, HAD BEEN PLANTED IN FERTILE SOIL. IT HELPED LAUNCH A QUARTER CENTURY RESEARCH INITIATIVE, THAT INVOLVED OUR WHOLE FAMILY. IT WAS THE REASON WE BEGAN VISITING ALGONQUIN PARK REGULARLY, CAMPING AND CANOEING WHERE THOMSON WAS KNOWN TO HAVE PAINTED, AND LIVED, DURING HIS YEARS IN THE PROVINCIAL PARK. WE PADDLED EVERY NAUTICAL INCH OF CANOE LAKE, AND HAVE ENJOYED A HUNDRED PICNIC VISITS TO THE TEA LAKE DAM, WHERE THOMSON USED TO FISH IN THE RAPIDS. SO WHILE I MIGHT NOT CREDIT RALPH BICE, FOR HAVING THE BEST INSIGHTS REGARDING THE THOMSON MYSTERY, HE DID CREATE ENOUGH DOUBT IN MY MIND, THAT I APPROACHED LITTLE'S PERSPECTIVE MUCH MORE CRITICALLY; THAN IF I HAD READ IT FIRST, AND BICE'S ACCOUNT, SECOND. FOLLOWING THIS? I LAUNCHED SOME SERIOUS RESEARCH INTO THOMSON'S DEATH, AS YOU CAN RE-READ ON THESE BLOGS BY ARCHIVING BACK. THE SECOND REFERENCE BOOK, WAS "TOM THOMSON; THE SILENCE AND THE STORM," WRITTEN BY ART HISTORIAN, DAVID SILCOX, AND GROUP OF ELEVEN ARTIST, HAROLD TOWN. IT WAS PUBLISHED FOLLOWING LITTLE'S BOOK, BUT DOES SUPPORT THE ACCIDENTAL DROWNING THEORY, AS ORIGINALLY PUT FORTH BY THE ATTENDING CORONER; HELD AT A CANOE LAKE INQUEST, SHORTLY AFTER THE ARTIST'S BODY WAS PULLED FROM THE LAKE. POINT IS, THESE BOOKS, AND BICE'S ORIGINAL COLUMN, GOT ME HOOKED ON THE THOMSON MYSTERY, WHICH I'M STILL WORKING ON, HEADING TO THE 100TH ANNIVERSARY RECOGNITION OF THIS DEATH, IN JULY 2017. I'M CURRENTLY BUILDING A COLLECTION OF THOMSON MATERIALS AND COMMEMORATIONS, HOPEFULLY TO DISPLAY AT OUR GRAVENHURST SHOP, WHEN THE ANNIVERSARY ROLLS AROUND. I'M STILL ONLY A THIRD OF THE WAY, TO THE KIND OF COLLECTION I'M HOPING FOR, BY THAT TIME IN THE THOMSON CHRONICLE.
     THIS MORNING, I WAS LOOKING OVER MY THOMSON RELICS, ONE OF OUR CATS HAD SHIFTED DURING A WALK-OVER, AND WHEN I MOVED A HALF DOZEN ITEMS, FROM ONE SHELF TO ANOTHER, JUDGE LITTLE'S BOOK FELL OFF THE DESK, AND HIT MY FOOT. NO FOOLING. IT OPENED TO A SECTION WRITTEN BY JACK EASTAUGH, AND I THOUGHT BACK TO ALL THE COINCIDENCES I'VE HAD WITH THE THOMSON STORY. I DON'T MESS WITH KARMA OR COINCIDENCE, SO HERE ARE A FEW WORDS FROM EASTAUGH'S INTRODUCTION, IN COMPLIMENT TO HIS FRIEND, WILLIAM LITTLE'S LANDMARK BOOK:
     "IT WAS ONE OF THOSE RARE AND CONSEQUENTLY CHERISHED WARM SEPTEMBER DAYS, WHEN EVEN THE GEESE BELIEVE THE SUMMER WILL LAST FOREVER. I WAS FISHING FOR SOME OF THE LARGE BASS THAT FREQUENT THE DOCKS, AT CAMP WAPOMEO, AT CANOE LAKE, IN ALGONQUIN PARK. AS I SAT REFLECTIVE AND MUSING, ALERT FOR ANY CHANGE TO THE TENSION OF MY LINE, A CANOE WITH THREE YOUNG MEN, IN THEIR LATE TEENS PULLED CLOSE TO THE DOCK. WE EXCHANGED GREETINGS AND THEY TOLD ME THIS WAS THE THIRD YEAR IN A ROW THAT THEY HAD MOTORED FROM TORONTO TO SPEND A FALL WEEKEND IN ALGONQUIN.
     EASTAUGH WRITES, "THINKING TO TEST A THEORY THAT WAS LOOSELY FORMED IN MY MIND, I LAID DOWN MY ROD AND SAUNTERED OVER TO THEIR CANOE. I ASKED THEM IF THEY ASSOCIATED CANOE LAKE WITH ANY SIGNIFICANT CANADIAN EVENT. THEY LOOKED PUZZLED AND REMARKED THAT CANOE LAKE WAS NOTHING MORE TO THEM THAN THE BEGINNING AND THE END OF THEIR ANNUAL JOURNEY. ENDEAVOURING TO GIVE THEM A CLUE, I SUGGESTED THAT THIS LAKE PLAYED A PROMINENT PART IN THE EVENTS SURROUNDING THE LIFE AND DEATH OF A FAMOUS CANADIAN ARTIST.
    "WHEN THEIR RESPONSE WAS STILL A PUZZLED BEWILDERMENT, I TOLD THEM ABOUT THE IMPORTANT CONTRIBUTION TO CANADA THAT HAD BEEN MADE BY TOM THOMSON; THAT HE HAD LIVED AND PAINTED ON THE SHORES OF THIS LAKE, AND THAT HERE HE HAD DROWNED ON JULY 8TH, 1917. THE FACT THAT THOMSON DROWNED HERE SEEMED TO CAPTURE THEIR ATTENTION AND THEY BEGAN TO RECALL VAGUELY SOME HIGH SCHOOL REFERENCES TO A PAINTING ABOUT A 'PINE TREE.' CERTAIN NOW THAT MY THEORY WAS CORRECT, I SOUGHT TO FURTHER PIQUE THEIR CURIOSITY BY TELLING THEM THAT THERE WAS SOME DISSATISFACTION WITH THE CONCLUSION OF THE CORONER, WHO INVESTIGATED THE DROWNING, AND EVEN DOUBLE ABOUT THE PRESENT LOCATION OF THOMSON'S REMAINS.
     "BY NOW WE WERE A PARTY OF FOUR SITTING ON THE DOCK, THOROUGHLY ENGROSSED IN THE EVENTS THAT HAD TAKEN PART AT CANOE LAKE IN JULY, 1917. FROM A DISCUSSION OF A TRAGEDY AND A MYSTERY WE WENT ON TO TALK ABOUT ART AND THE PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT CONTRIBUTION OF TOM THOMSON, TO THE FIRST MAJOR CANADIAN ART MOVEMENT. I WAS WITH JUDGE LITTLE DURING THOSE EARLY YEARS AT CAMP AHMEK, WHEN MARK ROBINSON USED TO EXPRESS HIS DISSATISFACTION, WITH THE CORONER'S VERDICT AND THE COMPETENCE OF THE UNDERTAKER. I WAS WITH HIM WHEN WE FOUND SKELETAL REMAINS IN A GRAVE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE EMPTY."
     MR. EASTAUGH GOES ON TO WRITE, "ALL THROUGH THE YEARS WE HAVE FOUND AN AVID INTEREST, ON THE PART OF INDIVIDUALS, AND GROUPS, IN THE CIRCUMSTANCES SURROUNDING THOMSON'S DEATH, AND HIS SUPPOSED REBURIAL AT LEITH. BUT IT IS THE QUALITY OF TOM THOMSON'S ART THAT HAS MADE THE MYSTERY OF HIS DEATH AND BURIAL PLACE IMPORTANT. THIS BOOK WILL FAIL IN ITS ENDEAVOUR IF THE READER DOESN'T MAKE A PILGRIMMAGE TO THE MCMICHAEL CONSERVATION COLLECTION, AT KLEINBURG, OR FAILS TO LOOK WITH ADDED INTEREST, THE NEXT TIME A THOMSON PAINTING COMES TO HIS ATTENTION.
     "FROM THOMSON THE READER SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED TO EXAMINE THE LIVES AND WORKS OF THE MEMBERS OF THE GROUP OF SEVEN, OF WHICH THOMSON WOULD UNDOUBTEDLY HAVE BEEN A MEMBER, HAD HE LIVED BEYOND HIS THIRTY-NINE YEARS. THIS BOOK HAD TO BE WRITTEN, AND I AM HAPPY THAT MY FRIEND OF LONG STANDING, HAS PRESENTED THE KNOWN AND THE SPECULATIVE FOR THE READER TO PONDER. ASK YOURSELF, WAS TOM THOMSON MURDERED? ARE HIS REMAINS AT LEITH, OR AT CANOE LAKE? LOOK AT HIS PICTURES AND SHARE HIS BURSTING, ENTHUSIASTIC APPRECIATION OF OUR BELOVED ALGONQUIN PARK."
     WILLIAM LITTLE, IN HIS PREAMBLE TO THE TEXT, WRITES, "IT HAS BEEN MAINTAINED BY MANY CANOE LAKE RESIDENTS WHO KNEW TOM THOMSON INTIMATELY THAT HE MET DEATH THROUGH FOUL PLAY; OTHERS SHARE THE OFFICIAL VIEW THAT THIS DEATH WAS DUE TO ACCIDENTAL DROWNING. INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH, THOSE WHO SUBSCRIBE TO THE ACCIDENTAL VIEW ARE PEOPLE WHO WERE NOT ASSOCIATED WITH TOM DURING THE PERIOD PRECEDING HIS DEATH. EVEN HIS OWN FAMILY CAN GIVE BUT HEARSAY ACCOUNTS OF BOTH HIS DEATH AND BURIAL - THOMSON WAS NEVER IDENTIFIED OR VIEWED BY ANY MEMBER OF HIS FAMILY AFTER HIS DEATH.
     "THE SOLE DOCUMENTARY EVIDENCE ON WHICH THE CASE RESTS WAS TAKEN AT AN INQUEST BY A CORONER WHO NEVER SAW THE BODY, BUT ACCEPTED THE INTERPRETATION OF IMPORTANT CIRCUMSTANCES GIVEN BY A MEDICAL DOCTOR WHO NEVER MET TOM THOMSON. THE DOCTOR HAD CONDUCTED A POST-MORTEM EXAMINATION WITHOUT HAVING ACCESS TO MANY FACTS THAT BECAME AVAILABLE AFTER THE OFFICIAL INQUEST HAD BEEN HELD. ALTHOUGH MANY OF THE DEDUCTIONS MADE IN THIS BOOK ARE BASED ON PERSON-TO-PERSON COMMUNICATIONS, TAPE RECORDINGS, CORRESPONDENCE AND DIARIES, THE PEOPLE CONTACTED THROUGH THE YEARS HAVE CLAIM TO CREDABILITY, BECAUSE OF THEIR CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH TOM DURING HIS ALQONQUIN PARK YEARS, AND THEIR PROXIMITY TO AND AGREEMENT ON THE EVENTS THAT PRECEDED AND FOLLOWED HIS DEATH."
     AS THIS BLOG IS MORE ABOUT BOOKS, THAN JUST REVIEWING THE CIRCUMSTANCES SURROUNDING THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF TOM THOMSON, I CAN TELL YOU, THAT AS A DIRECT RESULT OF THAT FIRST BOOK FIND, AND TURNING-ON TO THE THOMSON STORY, I HAVE ACQUIRED MANY MORE BOOKS AND BOOKLETS, THAT IN SOME FASHION, IN SOME SECTION OF THE TEXT, DEAL WITH THE ARTIST, HIS BIOGRAPHY, ART ACCOMPLISHMENTS, AND DEMISE. I HAVE A WHOLE SECTION IN MY ARCHIVES DEVOTED TO THOMSON, INCLUDING THE FIRST BOOK WRITTEN ABOUT THOMSON'S DEATH; WHICH WAS RESEARCHED AND PRIVATELY FUNDED, ORIGINALLY, BY ART HISTORIAN BLODWEN DAVIES, IN THE EARLY 1930'S. IT WAS BLODWEN DAVIES, OF COURSE, WHO WENT TO THE ONTARIO PROVINCIAL POLICE, AFTER COMMENCING HER RESEARCH IN THE LATE 1920'S, TO REPORT EVIDENCE THAT CONTRADICTED THE CORONER'S VERDICT, THAT THOMSON HAD BEEN A VICTIM OF DROWNING. THE OPP DROPPED THE CASE AFTER ONLY A BRIEF INVESTIGATION. IT HAS LONG BEEN RUMORED, THAT POLITICS DID ENTER THE THOMSON MYSTERY, AND COVER-UPS OF IMPORTANT INFORMATION, HAVE BEEN AN ONGOING REALITY OF THE CASE, CERTAINLY UP TO THE TIME, WILLIAM LITTLE PROVIDED THE ALLEGED SKELETAL REMAINS OF THOMSON; REMOVED FOR FORENSIC TESTING BY THE PROVINCE, WHICH DETERMINED THE BONES TO HAVE BELONGED TO AN ABORIGINAL MALE AND NOT THOMSON. KEEP IN MIND, IN JULY 1917, THE THOMSON FAMILY, ORDERED THE BODY OF THEIR SON AND BROTHER, TO BE MOVED FROM THE CEMETERY PLOT, AT CANOE LAKE, TO BE REBURIED IN THE THOMSON PLOT, IN THE VILLAGE OF LEITH. THE HUNTSVILLE UNDERTAKER, A MR. CHURCHILL, WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN CHARGE OF THIS EXHUMATION AND REBURIAL, BUT IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN SUSPECTED, HE LOADED UP A METAL CASKET WITH ALGONQUIN EARTH INSTEAD, TO THE APPROXIMATE WEIGHT OF A HUMAN BODY OF THOMSON'S HEIGHT. THUS, WE STILL, TO THIS DATE, HAVE ONE ARTIST, IN TWO GRAVES. JUDGE LITTLE'S BOOK OFFERS SOME THEORIES ABOUT THIS TWO-GRAVE DILEMMA.
     BY THE WAY, YOU CAN BUILD A DECENT THOMSON ARCHIVES, BY SHOPPING VIA THE ADVANCE BOOK EXCHANGE, ONLINE, WHERE YOU CAN FIND USED AND EVEN SIGNED COPIES OF THE BOOKS MENTIONED; SUCH AS "SILENCE AND THE STORM," "THE TOM THOMSON MYSTERY," AND THE BLODWEN DAVIES BIOGRAPY OF TOM THOMSON.
     SO AS FAR AS NEAT BOOKS GO, THE STUDY OF TOM THOMSON CAN INVOLVE THE BETTER PART OF A LIBRARY, IF YOU WERE TO COLLECT ONE OF EACH TITLE THAT HAS BEEN PRODUCED SINCE HIS TRAGIC DEMISE.

Sunset encounters with the lone Algonquin canoeist

My very first trip to Algonquin Park after beginning research on the mysterious death of Canadian landscape artist, Tom Thomson, began and ended at the Tea Lake Dam. It had been one of Thomson’s favorite fishing locations, from the rocks bordering the rapids below the old dam. When I made my way down to the water-side that first day, it was as if I truly expected to encounter in one form or another,... his spirit, still hovering in the mist prevailing over that peaceful Algonquin alcove of water, rock and forest. It was as if for a moment in time, I was allowed to walk into one of his paintings to see from the inside out, how his inspiration had manifested by brush and paint onto board. I sat on a fallen log for a long while, listening to the gentle wash of shallow water rushing over the rocks mid-stream. When the sun burned away the morning vapor, the sunlight dazzled on the water as if there were diamonds tumbling along in the current. My sons threw small stones into the dark water to watch the splash and ripples generate in the sunglow, and giggled when the chilled water penetrated their shoes.....and toes. It was poetry in art. It was the comforting natural embrace of a most beautiful place on earth.....a place you could not casually dismiss, or forget amidst the memories of a million other visitations abroad over a lifetime. Here was the portal into legend, an entrance I willingly stepped through, in my own adventures into contentment, as author David Grayson once wrote about spiritual re-awakening, and explorations in nature.

I’ve spent many hours paddling the Algonquin lakes visiting places that had encouraged his studies and invigorated his ambition to capture stirring lakeland scenes from sunset and storm to spring re-awakening and haunted, spirit-full forests. On cold autumn evenings my wife and sons would sit for hours watching the fanning colors of the Northern Lights, over Tea Lake, another quality of the environment that had intrigued Thomson. There were friends and admirers of his work, who paid particular attention to his sketches of these enchanted rainbow lights, some remarking to him that the scenes were "cold and lonely" in appearance, and that pleased the artist, as this is what he had intended.

Whether we have been traversing picturesque Tea Lake, Canoe Lake, Smoke Lake or our favorite Rock Lake near the east gate, there is always a wonderful lingering aura of Tom Thomson....and many vistas around these lakes, at all times of the year and day, can remind one in a subtle way, of an Algonquin sketch made by his hand ninety two years earlier.

Those long time admirers of Thomson’s powerful landscapes may agree that Algonquin is forever haunted by his lake traverses by grey-green canoe. Pleasantly haunted of course. Each year there is a Thomson sighting.....a lone canoeist paddling gently, just after sunset, heading toward the watcher, only to disappear as strangely as it first appeared on the horizon. In William Little’s book, "The Tom Thomson Mystery," 1970, McGraw-Hill, pages 98-100, there is the first reference to the ghost of Tom Thomson.

There were persistent, year after year claims, all part of the escalating Tom Thomson legend, "that former guides had seen Tom in his canoe in various places in the Park. One such experience is described by a prominent summer resident in Algonquin Park only a few miles away from Canoe Lake. Mrs. Northway, her husband, and daughter Mary were vacationing in their beautiful summer home, Nominigan, on the east side of Smoke Lake. They had as their guest Mr. Lawren Harris, one of the Group of Seven’s leading artists and a close friend of Tom Thomson. Miss Northway recounts the following story, written verbatim as told her by her mother in 1931: ‘It was a very calm day last summer when my guide and I had been in a hidden, hill-locked lake, with the most diabolical modern apparatus to ensnare any unfortunate fish who would be taken in by the flashy advertising on a first class, well-hooked spinner. We had been up at dawn, and had travelled from lake to lake across portages which made my city lungs gasp, and over long stretches of still blue water into ponds where lilies bloomed. The winds had slept all day. We had talked through the hours, my guide and I, for he, as he smoked hand-rolled cigarettes, could discourse on many a thing and could weave tales of adventure or truth in which the incidents were all seen as under a strong magnifying glass.

‘It had been a happy day and ever so lazy. At dusk we were coming home, tired, rested, and at peace with the world. It was a tremendously still evening, you could hear the silence sing against your ear. The hills made strange, statuesque, figures against the haunting orange of the western sky, while the first star set its light akindle, as an altar lamp of the universe against the canopy of the afterglow. Even my guide’s tales had ceased, and through my mind drifted fragments of harmonies as if heard from a far away cello. Suddenly the voice of my guide shattered the silence. ‘They’re coming out to meet us from the portage.’ And turning toward the sunset I saw a man kneeling in a canoe that slowly came towards us. ‘So they are,’ I answered. ‘I guess we are pretty late.’

‘My guide turned from his course in order that we might better meet our herald, now a little less than a hundred yards away. I raised my voice and called and waved my hand, while my guide kept paddling toward the camper. But there was no response, for even as we looked the canoe and its paddler, without warning or sound, vanished into nothingness, and on the undisturbed lake were only our lonely selves and the shrieking loon." Miss Northway, in re-telling her mother’s story stated that "My father and Mr. Taylor-Statten, being practical people, on hearing the tale insisted it had been a mirage, but Lawren (Harris), a theosophist, was sure it was the spirit of Tom Thomson. His rationale was that those who depart before their time continue to haunt the lands they loved. My mother was inclined to accept Lawren’s interpretation much to my father’s disgust. A point that was much discussed but never settled, was what colour shirt was Tom wearing when he was drowned. (The ghost paddler had been wearing a yellow shirt)"

According to William Little, "This story of the phantom canoeist has become part of the saga of Tom Thomson. Lawren Harris, one of the last surviving members of the Group of Seven (now deceased), verified the above experience of his friend."

Maybe you are reminded of this curious presence while sitting at fireside, when you casually glance out onto the lake to admire the final rays of the July sun disappearing below the evergreen ridge. Possibly the sound of wind etching down across the hollows of the rock landscape, singing through the pines and knocking about the leaning birches, will remind you of a painter once. And maybe it will be the sound of water in the deep of night, lapping at the shore, that reminds you of the mysterious paddler, traversing the dreamy solitude, looking for a kindred spirit to awaken to the legend in which he dwells. It is not disturbing at all, to be in company of such an acquaintance.....enriching the grandness of Algonquin.

I would be delighted, absolutely enthralled, to have such an opportunity, to witness this spirited traverse of a misty Algonquin lake. Yet I have never visited this enchanted region of Ontario, and not, in some subtle way, been reminded of Thomson’s enduring stewardship of these magnificent lakes and forests.

Visit Algonquin Park this season and enjoy its spell-binding ambience. Just watch for crossing moose and other park wildlife. And watch for the lone canoeist!