Richard Karon, Muskoka Artist revisited; A Wheelwrights 1876 Diary; Folk Lore of the Pioneer

1876 diary used by regional wheelwright

Richard Karon Painting on the front of the July 23rd, 1981 Muskoka Sun

RE-VISITING THE ART WORK OF MUSKOKA PAINTER RICHARD KARON - MUSKOKA SUN FEATURE, JULY 23, 1981

FOUND AMONGST MY PAPER KEEPSAKES

     I GREW UP WATCHING ANDY HARDY MOVIES. MICKY ROONEY WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ALL-TIME ACTORS. I WAS SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT HIS DEATH YESTERDAY, BUT BEING IN HIS EARLY NINETIES, WAS WHAT MOST OF US WOULD CONSIDER A LONG AND PROSPEROUS LIFE. HE HAD GONE THROUGH EIGHT MARRIAGES, HAD SIX CHILDREN I BELIEVE, AND MADE A RECORD NUMBER OF MOVIES, APPEARING RIGHT UP UNTIL THE TIME OF HIS DEMISE. HE WAS IN "NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM," WHICH I REALLY ENJOYED, AND HAD BIT PARTS ALL OVER THE PLACE. BUT HE WAS PRETTY IMPORTANT IN MY YOUTH, AND MOST CERTAINLY A ROLE MODEL; AND IF MICKY ROONEY WAS IN A NORWOOD THEATRE MATINEE, IN BRACEBRIDGE, MY MOTHER WAS THUSLY EMPHATIC, "THEN IT'S A MOVIE THAT'S GOING TO BE WORTH THE ADMISSION." SHE'D SEND ME OFF WITH THE ADMISSION PRICE, THINKING OF IT AS A WISE INVESTMENT FOR HER SANITY. I DID TEND TO GET UNDER FOOD A LOT. AND WITH LEFT OVER FUNDS, I COULD BUY ONE OF THOSE PINK BLACKPOOL ROCK CANDY STICKS, THAT YOU'D STILL BE LICKING FOR UPWARDS OF THREE DAYS AFTER THE SHOW. I WAS ALSO SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT THE DEATH OF COMEDIAN JOHN PINETTE, THE IRRITABLE CHUBBY FELLOW, WHO YOU MIGHT REMEMBER, GETS BEAT UP, IN THE FINAL EPISODE OF SEINFELD, PUTTING THE CAST OF CHARACTERS IN JAIL, FOR NOT COMING TO HIS DEFENSE. HE WAS A GREAT STAND-UP COMIC, AND MADE FUN OF HIS SUBSTANTIAL WEIGHT AND CIRCUMSTANCE IN LIFE; LIKE THE FABULOUS BIT HE DID, ABOUT CLIMBING THE LADDER AT A WATER PARK, AND THE WAY HIS BATHING SUIT DISAPPEARED, BETWEEN HIS CHEEKS, AS HE GOT HIGHER ON THE LADDER, MUCH TO THE HORROR OF THOSE COMING UP BEHIND.
     AS FOR THE RUSSIANS, BECAUSE YOU KNOW I'VE BEEN WATCHING THEM, I BELIEVE THEY WILL INVADE THE UKRAINE, SOMETIME IN THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, JUST LIKE THEY HELPED THEMSELVES TO THE CRIMEA A MONTH AGO. NEWS LAST WEEK FROM NATO, THAT THE RUSSIAN DEPLOYMENT OF TROOPS, AND MILITARY ASSETS, AMASSED IN GREAT NUMBER, ON THE BORDER, WITHIN TWO HOURS OF BEING IN FULL INVASION MODE, WAS PRETTY TROUBLING TO US WAR-WORRIERS. A DEEPLY IMBEDDED NEWS ITEM SEEMINGLY NOT DESERVING ADDITIONAL COVERAGE, IT WAS BROUGHT BACK SHARPLY INTO FOCUS TODAY, WITH BREAKING NEWS OF IMPLANTED RUSSIAN AGITATION, IN THE UKRAINE OVER THE WEEKEND, CAUSING MAJOR RIOTS. THE WORRYING ASPECT OF THIS ACTUALITY, IS THAT THE RUSSIANS WILL ONCE AGAIN FEEL COMPELLED TO ENTER THE UKRAINE IN DEFENSE OF THEISR PRO-RUSSIAN CITIZENS. NATO? WHAT DO YOU THINK?
     AFTER A COUPLE OF ACTUAL AND CHARACTERISTIC SPRING DAYS, OF KINDER TEMPERATURES, IT LOOKS LIKE WE'RE GOING TO BE THE RECIPIENTS OF A NOAH'S ARK KIND OF HALF RAIN, HALF SNOW, BEGINNING MONDAY NIGHT. THE MOVIE ABOUT NOAH AND HIS ARK WAS PLAYING AT THE NORWOOD THEATRE IN BRACEBRIDGE, THIS WEEKEND, SO HERE COMES SOME ACTUALITY DOWN THE PIKE. THE APPROACH OF A STORM FRONT, WITH A LOT OF PRECIPITATION IMBEDDED, IS BAD NEWS FOR OUR REGION I'M AFRAID. I OFFERED A WARNING IN FEBRUARY, THAT BASED ON THE SNOW ON THE GROUND, WHAT WAS STILL FALLING, AND PREDICTED TO FALL, WITH THE TEMPERATURES REMAINING ARCTIC-LIKE, THE POTENTIAL THAT WE WOULD GET TO THE END OF MARCH WITHOUT A SIGNIFICANT, LOAD REDUCING MELT, WAS PRETTY MUCH A SURE BET. WE'RE GETTING IN A REAL DANGER ZONE, IN MUSKOKA, ESPECIALLY IF APRIL PROVIDES A SIMILAR RAINFALL AMOUNT, TO LAST YEAR'S DELUGE. THE MUSKOKA WATERSHED IS GOING TO BE STRESSED WITH WATER VERY SOON NOW, AND LIKE LAST YEAR, I BELIEVE IT WILL CREATE PARALLEL FLOODING OR WORSE. I REMEMBER ONE YEAR, BACK IN THE EARLY EIGHTIES, GETTING A PICTURE OF A BOATHOUSE FLOATING DOWN THE MUSKOKA RIVER. LOTS OF DOCKS TOO.
     I'VE BEEN FASCINATED WITH THE WATERSHED, SINCE I ARRIVED IN BRACEBRIDGE, BACK IN THE MID 1960'S. IN BURLINGTON, I WENT TO SCHOOL ON THESE SAME SPRING MORNINGS, LISTENING TO THE FOG HORNS FROM PASSING FREIGHTERS. IN BRACEBRIDGE, WHEN THE WATER WAS HIGH, I COULD HEAR THE WATER CRASHING OVER BRACEBRIDGE FALLS, FROM THE TIME I CAME OUT THE DOOR OF OUR ALICE STREET APARTMENT. THAT WOULD BE A DISTANCE OF ABOUT FOUR URBAN BLOCKS. ALICE STREET, ON THE PLATEAU OF HUNT'S HILL, WAS WELL ABOVE THE COURSE OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER, AND FOR US TO HEAR THE WATERFALL, ON THAT PEAK OF LAND, MEANT THERE WAS A TERRIFIC VOLUME OF FLOW OVER THE RAPIDS, AND CRASHING DOWN THE INCLINE INTO BRACEBRIDGE BAY. WHEN I BECAME EDITOR OF THE HERALD-GAZETTE, IN THE EARLY 1980'S, I HAD LOTS OF OLDTIMERS, FAMILIAR WITH THE WATERSHED, COME TO TELL ME THE LATEST NEWS OF NEAR-FLOODING ALONG ITS BANKS. A LOT OF BRACEBRIDGE'S HISTORY WAS INTIMATELY CONNECTED WITH THE RESOURCES OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER AND THE FALLS. IT CREATED HYDRO ELECTRIC GENERATION, AND PLAYED A ROLE IN THE LOGGING INDUSTRY, THE BIRDS WOOLLEN MILL, AND TWO TANNERIES LOCATED FURTHER DOWN STREAM. DURING MY EDITORSHIP, RIGHT UP TO EARLY 1990, THERE WERE ONLY A FEW TIMES WHEN THE MUSKOKA RIVER REACHED WHAT WAS EXPERIENCED LAST SPRING. THESE SAME LONG-TIME RESIDENTS ALWAYS HAD WARNINGS, AND "WHAT IFS," ABOUT WHAT COULD HAPPEN, IF IT TURNED OUT TO BE, AN UNUSUALLY RAINY SPRING; INSTEAD OF A NORMAL, SUNNY MELT OF THE SNOW CANOPY. SOME HAD SEEN IT MUCH WORSE, IN THEIR YEARS LIVING IN MUSKOKA. I HAD REALLY ONLY SEEN THE INCONVENIENT SIDE OF THE HIGH WATER, BUT NOTHING LIKE THE SPRING OF 2013. IT'S WHY I'M PARTICULARLY CONCERNED ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENING OUT THERE THIS SPRING. THERE'S TOO MUCH OF EVERYTHING AND NOT A LOT OF DRAINAGE ALTERNATIVES, EXCEPT TO FLOOD LOW LYING AREAS.
     WHILE THE MUSKOKA RIVER, NORTH AND SOUTH BRANCHES, WERE DRAWN DOWN THIS WINTER, TO ACCOMMODATE THE HIGH WATER SEASON, I REALLY DON'T THINK, THAT SHORT OF AN ACT OF GOD, THAT WE WILL AVOID FLOODING IN 2014. I TALKED TO A FRIEND, LATE LAST WEEK, WHO HAS A HOME ON THE MUSKOKA RIVER, AND I ASKED HIM IF HE WAS GETTING NERVOUS ABOUT THE RIVER LEVEL. HE TOLD ME THAT THERE WAS WATER OVERTAKING THE ICE-CAP ON BEAVER CREEK, FLOWING INTO THE MUSKOKA RIVER; AND IT IS A SORT OF AN EARLY WARNING SIGN, THAT THERE'S A LOT MORE RUN-OFF THAN USUAL. THE BEAVER CREEK RUN-OFF IS COMING FROM THE SMALLER CREEKS, AND WATERCOURSES, IN THE URBAN AREA OF BRACEBRIDGE. WHILE IT'S NOT UNCOMMON, TO HAVE ICE ON OUR LAKES REMAIN UNTIL MAY, ACCORDING TO HISTORIC RECORDS KEPT BY SOME LAKESIDE RESIDENTS, (AND THEIR FAMILIES OVER GENERATIONS), IT IS LATE IN THE YEAR TO HAVE SUCH A LARGE QUANTITY OF SNOW STILL ON THE GROUND. I'VE LIVED THROUGH SOME WILD WINTERS SINCE 1966, BUT THIS HAS BEEN ONE FOR THE RECORD BOOKS. THE ISSUE NOW, IS THAT WARM WEATHER IS GOING TO BE MORE CONSISTENT, DAY TO DAY, AND THAT WILL UNLEASH A WILD RUN-OFF INTO THE LAKES, RIVERS AND CREEKS, AS FEEDERS OF THE HUGE WATERSHED, WHICH STARTS IN ALGONQUIN PARK. NOW THAT WE'RE RUNNING INTO A HUGE MOISTURE PRODUCING WEATHER SYSTEM, FOR THE NEXT TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, AND A SUCCESSION OF WARM WEATHER DAYS, TO FOLLOW THIS, I REALLY DON'T THINK IT'S POSSIBLE, TO AVOID ANOTHER MAJOR FLOODING EVENT IN MUSKOKA. AND OF COURSE, THE FOLKS IN BALA ARE GOING TO GET MOST OF IT, HOPEFULLY GOING OVER THE FALLS, INSTEAD OF FLOODING THEIR PROPERTIES; BUT OF COURSE, NOT BEFORE IT FLOODS LAKE MUSKOKA PROPERTIES AS WELL.
     IF I WAS A PROPERTY OWNER ON LOWLAND ANYWHERE ON THE MUSKOKA WATERSHED, I WOULD WANT TO TAKE PRECAUTIONS RIGHT NOW, JUST IN CASE OF FLOODING; BECAUSE THIS YEAR, EVERYONE SHOULD BE AWARE OF THE IMMINENT DANGER OF TOO MUCH WATER ENTERING THE SYSTEM, OVER A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME. IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS, AS COMPARED TO OTHER SPRINGS YOU'VE EXPERIENCED IN OUR REGION. THIS WAS AN HISTORIC WINTER, AND IT WILL BE AN HISTORIC SPRING. INTERESTING FOR HISTORIANS LIKE ME, BUT CRAPPY FOR PROPERTY OWNERS IN THE WAY OF HIGH WATER. THERE ARE ALWAYS THOSE WHO FEEL IT HAS TO BE THE FAULT OF THE MINISTRY OF NATURAL RESOURCES WHEN FLOODS HAPPEN, BUT WITHOUT THE FLOOD CONTROLS IN PLACE, THAT OTHER MUNICIPALITIES HAVE IMBEDDED IN THEIR SYSTEMS, IT REALLY COMES DOWN TO THE BENEVOLENCE OF MOTHER NATURE. WHILE LAST YEAR WAS CONSIDERED A PEAK YEAR, OUT OF A QUARTER CENTURY OF WATERSHED HISTORY, I'VE GOT A HUNCH HISTORY WILL BE REPEATING IN MAY OF 2014. I DON'T THINK IT IS WILD SPECULATION, OR FEAR MONGERING WHATSOEVER, TO SUGGEST THESE WATERSHED RESIDENTS AND COTTAGERS, ANTICIPATE THE WORSE CASE SCENARIO. WHEN I STEP OUT ONTO MY VERANDAH, HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, I CAN ALREADY HEAR THE SOUND OF THE SWOLLEN CREEKS AND SMALL CATARACTS INTERSECTING THROUGHOUT THE BOG; AND THAT IS UNUSUAL, ESPECIALLY WITH SO MUCH ICE AND SNOW COVER STILL IN THE WOODS. NORMALLY, I'D HAVE TO BE DOWN IN THE BOG TO HEAR THIS, AND IT WOULD BE NOTHING MORE THAN A BRISK TRICKLE. I HATE TO BE A DOOMSAYER, BUT WITH THREE FEET OF SNOW STILL ON MY LAWN, NEARING MID APRIL, WITH THE FORECAST SHOWING MANY WARM DAYS IN SUCCESSION, PLUS HEAVY RAINFALL, I BELIEVE THIS WILL BE A RECORD YEAR OF FLOOD DAMAGE. SO ANYTHING THAT CAN BE DONE TO MITIGATE LOSS, AT THIS EARLY STAGE, IS THE FIRST POSITIVE DEFENSE IN EMERGENCY PREPAREDNESS. THIS IS JUST MY OPINION, AS AN OLDTIMER MYSELF, WHO HAS SEEN HIS SHARE OF WILD WEATHER EVENTS HERE IN THE HINTERLAND. WE'RE BETTER PREPARED THAN SOME AREAS, FOR THESE EVENTS, BUT DISADVANTAGED MORE THAN OTHER AREAS, BECAUSE WE DON'T HAVE EXTENSIVE FLOOD CONTROLS TO DIVERT A LARGER THAN NORMAL RUN-OFF. IT'S TIME TO DON THE WELLINGTONS.

THE MUSKOKA ARTIST AT WORK

     BACK IN THE SPRING OF 2012, THE OCCASION WHEN I PUBLISHED A BRIEF BIOGRAPHY, OF FORMER MUSKOKA ARTIST, RICHARD KARON, VIA THIS BLOG, THE PAGE FROM THE MUSKOKA SUN, DATED JULY 23, 1981, (AS SEEN ABOVE), EVADED ME THROUGHOUT MY THREE MONTHS OF RESEARCH. I COULD VISUALIZE THE FRONT PAGE, AND I REALLY WANTED TO INCLUDE THIS AND THE ACCOMPANYING COPY, IN THE MULTI-PART ARTIST SERIES. I EVEN ASKED MY OLD FRIEND DAVE BROWN, THE BOOK BUDDY IN HIS GLORIOUS AFTERLIFE, IF HE COULD, BY SOME SIGN, SHOW ME WHERE I STASHED THE FILE. WITH SOME IRONY, TO A LOT OF THINGS GOING ON WITH US THESE DAYS, I FOUND THE PAGE CLIPPING IN THE SAME CEDAR BOX, I'VE BEEN REFERRING TO OVER THE PAST FEW DAYS. WHAT IS OF SIGNIFICANCE MORE SO, IS THAT RICHARD KARON'S WORK WAS CONSIDERED SO INTERESTING AND COMPETENT, THAT MY ASSOCIATE EDITOR, BOB BOYER, DECIDED IT DESERVED FRONT PAGE PROFILE IN THE MUSKOKA SUN.
     WHAT I WANTED, BY FINDING THIS CLIPPING, BEFORE THE BIOGRAPHY WAS MADE PUBLIC, WAS TO DEMONSTRATE THE KIND OF SUPPORT MR. KARON HAD, AT THIS TIME-PERIOD OF THE EARLY 1980'S, FROM THE MUSKOKA AUDIENCE. HIS ART SALES WERE STRONG, BECAUSE HIS PAINTINGS CLEARLY REFLECTED THE MUSKOKA LANDSCAPE, AND HIGHLIGHTED THE AMAZING LITTLE POCKETS OF BOG-LAND, FEW OTHER ARTISTS AT THE TIME, FOUND PARTICULARLY ALLURING. HE WASN'T THE DEFINITIVE MUSKOKA ARTIST, BY ANY MEANS, BUT HIS DEPICTIONS WERE PROFOUNDLY REGIONAL; JUST AS HIS LAKE OF BAYS STUDIO, WAS SO COMFORTABLY INSET, BENEATH THE EVERGREEN CANOPY OF THE MUSKOKA WOODLANDS. IT WAS A LIVING MUSKOKA POSTCARD. EVERY TIME I WOULD DRIVE ON HIGHWAY 117 TO BAYSVILLE AND DORSET, I WOULD SEE A LOT OF THESE ALCOVES OF NATURE, WHERE KARON HAD PLACED HIMSELF, TO STUDY THE TOPOGRAPHY; AND THEN APPLY PAINTS TO CANVAS. THESE IMPRESSIONS SEEMED TO BEST PORTRAY, WHAT THEY, HIS PATRONS, SAW, WHEN OUT FOR THEIR COUNTRYSIDE MOTOR-TRIPS. THERE ARE MANY COTTAGES AND MUSKOKA HOMES TODAY, WITH RICHARD KARON PAINTINGS HUNG OVER MANTLES, AS WELL AS IN SPACIOUS LIVINGROOMS AND BRIGHT SUNROOMS; NOT TO MENTION HIS PAINTINGS HUNG RESPECTFULLY IN CORPORATE AND BUSINESS OFFICES ACROSS THE CONTINENT.
     WHEN I WORKED WITH BOB BOYER, AT MUSKOKA PUBLICATIONS, THE MUSKOKA SUN WAS HIS PRIDE AND JOY. WHILE HIS FAMILY HAD ENJOYED A LONG RUN AS PUBLISHERS OF THE BRACEBRIDGE HERALD, AND THEN THE AMALGAMATED BRACEBRIDGE HERALD-GAZETTE, A CHANGE IN OWNERSHIP IN THE LATE 1970'S, TOOK SOME OF THE MANAGERIAL RESPONSIBILITIES OFF BOB'S SHOULDERS. HE LOOKED AFTER THE MUSKOKA SUN, OUR SUMMER SEASON PUBLICATION, WHICH DURING THE 1980'S, EXPANDED ITS PUBLISHING SEASON FROM BEFORE THE 24TH OF MAY HOLIDAY WEEKEND, TO THANKSGIVING, WITH A BOAT SHOW ISSUE IN THE LATE WINTER. SO WHEN BOB WOULD PUT OUT REQUESTS FOR ARTISTS TO SUBMIT PANELS OF THEIR WORK FOR CONSIDERATION, FOR FULL FRONT COVERS, WE WOULD GET SO MANY BROUGHT INTO US, THAT WE COULD HAVE COVERED THREE PUBLICATION SEASONS WITH ALL THE ART WORK. SO GETTING A FRONT PAGE WAS IMPORTANT EXPOSURE. THE ARTISTS CERTAINLY THOUGHT SO! FOR BOB TO HAVE SELECTED A RICHARD KARON PAINTING FOR THE FRONT COVER, HE WOULD HAVE HAD TO PICK IT FROM PROBABLY A HUNDRED OTHER SUBMISSIONS. SO BOB WAS BESTOWING QUITE AN HONOR ON KARON, TO BE THE COVER ART FOR ONE OF THE BIGGEST ISSUES OF THE SUMMER. I EXPECT THIS JULY ISSUE ITSELF WOULD HAVE BEEN CLOSE TO EIGHTY PAGES, AS THE WEEK FOLLOWING, THE CIVIC HOLIDAY, WOULD HAVE SURPASSED A HUNDRED PAGES. BACK IN THOSE DAYS, MUSKOKA SUNS WERE COLLECTED BY MANY OF OUR COTTAGER AUDIENCE, SO THIS EXPOSURE WOULD HAVE DEFINITELY INSPIRED SALES FOR THE LAKE OF BAYS ARTIST.
     MY WRITING COLLEAGUE, (AND BEST MAN FOR OUR WEDDING), SCOTT MCCLELLAN, (OF GRAVENHURST, NOW LIVING WITH WIFE KIM AND FAMILY IN AUSTRALIA), WROTE THE STORY TO COMPANION THE FRONT PAGE PAINTING. "FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, WHEN RICHARD KARON FIRST BEGAN PAINTING IN CANADA, THERE WERE VERY FEW ARTISTS EMPLOYING A PALETTE INSTEAD OF A PAINT BRUSH. HE WAS AMONG THEM, WROTE MCCLELLAN. "TODAY HE IS A WELL KNOWN AND WELL RESPECTED CANADIAN PAINTER. REALISM AND ATTENTION TO DETAIL CHARACTERIZE HIS PAINTINGS; HE IS A LANDSCAPE PAINTER. FOR THE PAST THIRTEEN YEARS (FROM 1981), THE LANDSCAPES OF MUSKOKA HAVE BEEN HIS INSPIRATION AND SUBJECT MATTER. BUT COULD HE BE RUNNING OUT OF LANDSCAPES. 'OF COURSE NOT,' HE EXCLAIMED. 'THERE'S NO LIMIT IN MUSKOKA. I WILL NEVER RUN OUT'. MR. KARON SAID HE PAINTS BETWEEN ONE HUNDRED CANVASES A YEAR - ALL OF THEM ORIGINALS. RECENTLY HIS WORK HAS BEEN CONFINED TO MUSKOKA BUT IN THE PAST HE HAS TRAVELLED AS FAR AS CALGARY TO WORK, HE SAID."
     "HE ESCAPED COMMUNIST POLAND IN 1951 AND THEN SPENT TWO YEARS IN EUROPE STUDYING WITH A GERMAN PAINTER. HE CAME TO CANADA IN 1953 AND SETTLED IN TORONTO. IT WASN'T LONG, HOWEVER, BEFORE MUSKOKA'S SCENIC BEAUTY CAUGHT HIS ARTIST'S EYE, AND HE CAME HERE TO LIVE AND WORK PERMANENTLY. LAST YEAR HE BEGAN TO WORK WITH WOOD AS WELL. NOW HE MAKES LAMPS, SMALL PIECES OF FURNITURE, AND EVEN CLOCKS USING EVERYTHING FROM PINE TO MAPLE AND CHERRY. MR. KARON DOESN'T DO AS MANY EXHIBITIONS AS HE DID A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO - HE DOESN'T NEED TO. HIS WORK IS ON DISPLAY IN GALLERIES IN TORONTO, OTTAWA, AND NORTH BAY. AND HE SAID HE IS PLANNING AN EXHIBITION FOR THE FALL. HIS STUDIO IS LOCATED A MILE WEST OF BAYSVILLE."
     THE STUDIO WAS SHUT DOWN IN THE LATE 1980'S, AND HE AND HIS WIFE, AND YOUNG SON, RICHARD, (NOW A COMMERCIAL PILOT LIVING IN BRITISH COLUMBIA), MOVED TO SOUTHERN ONTARIO, WHERE AN EVENTUAL SEPARATION OF THE FAMILY OCCURRED. KARON PAINTED VERY LITTLE, AFTER HE MOVED FROM MUSKOKA, WHERE HE HAD ENJOYED HIS MOST PROLIFIC PERIOD OF PAINTING. YOU CAN READ THE FULL BIOGRAPHY AND VIEW A COMPANION VIDEO, BY VISITING MY RICHARD KARON BLOG, WHERE MANY OF HIS BEST PAINTINGS HAVE BEEN RE-PUBLISHED.
    
THE MODEST JOTTINGS OF A WHEELWRIGHT IN 1876

     AMONGST THE HISTORIC CLUTTER I FOUND IN MY HEARTH-SIDE CEDAR BOX, I ALSO UNCOVERED A SMALL REGISTRY BOOK, I HAD STASHED AFTER A COUPLE OF FAILED ATTEMPTS TO SELL IT, ABOUT FIVE YEARS AGO. WE USED TO SELL OUR OLD AND RARE BOOKS ONLINE, SPECIFICALLY ON EBAY, WHICH AT ONE TIME, WE FOUND PERFECTLY SUITED TO SELLING BOOKS WITH INTERNATIONAL APPEAL. BUT THERE WERE A FEW TIMES, EVEN A BOOK WE EXPECTED WOULD DRAW BIDS, IN THE FIRST HOURS AFTER LISTING, WOULDN'T SELL FOR A VARIETY OF UNKNOWN REASONS. IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE CASE, WE HAD LISTED IT IN THE WRONG CATEGORY, TO GET MAXIMUM EXPOSURE; OR HADN'T BEEN AS THOROUGH IN OUR LISTING INFORMATION. AND THERE WERE TIMES WHEN OUR STARTING BID WAS JUST TOO HIGH, TO HOOK A CUSTOMER. IT HAPPENS IN THE SHOP THE SAME WAY, SO YOU HAVE TO ADJUST PRICES, INCREASE EXPOSURE AND SOMETIMES, REMOVE IT FROM SALE ENTIRELY. WE HAD A SEPARATE SHELF FOR ALL THE BOOKS THAT HAD BEEN RUN THROUGH THE ONLINE PROCESS UPWARDS OF THREE TIMES, AND THESE WERE SLATED TO BE SOLD IN OUR EVENTUAL STORE-FRONT, WHICH CAME SOONER FOR US THAN WE HAD PLANNED. THESE BOOKS WEREN'T REJECTED BECAUSE OF QUALITY OR CONTENT, BUT DUE TO COMPETITION BY OTHER BOOK SELLERS. IT WAS JUST THE CASE THE MARKET, AT THAT TIME, WAS FLOODED WITH THESE TITLES.
     WHEN WE WERE BUYING FOR OUR ONLINE BUSINESS, OUR PURCHASING PROFILE WAS VASTLY DIFFERENT THAN IT IS TODAY WITH A STORE-FRONT. ON-LINE SALES, YOU SEE, DEMAND STRIKINGLY UNIQUE AND HIGH QUALITY ITEMS, TO GET BIDS. YOU HAVE TO CONSIDER THAT, ON EBAY, YOU ARE FACING-OFF AGAINST MILLIONS OF OTHER ONLINE SELLERS. OUT ON THE ANTIQUE HUNT, WE WOULD ONLY BUY BOOKS, EPHEMERA (HISTORIC PAPER) AND COLLECTABLES, THAT WERE IN LIMITED SUPPLY; SUCH AS AUTOGRAPHED AND AUTHOR-INSCRIBED BOOKS, SMALL PAINTINGS, (AND A FEW LARGE ONES) AND AS WAS OUR SPECIALTY, MUSKOKA NOSTALGIA. WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN WELL KNOWN FOR OUR MUSKOKA COLLECTABLE INVENTORY, SO IT WAS NATURAL TO TAKE IT FROM THE SHOP WE ONCE OPERATED IN BRACEBRIDGE, TO OUR NEW ONLINE ENTERPRISE, RUN FROM OUR HOME IN GRAVENHURST. AT THIS POINT IN BUSINESS HISTORY, OF COURSE, WE'RE BACK IN A STORE-FRONT SITUATION, AND THE CHALLENGE TODAY, IS HOW TO BUY FOR BOTH ONLINE SALES, AND FOR OUR WALK-IN CUSTOMERS. YOU DON'T GET A LOT OF IMPULSE BUYING ONLINE, AS COMPARED TO WHAT CAN HAPPEN IN MAINSTREET RETAIL LOCATION; WHERE IMPULSE ACCOUNTS FOR MOST OF OUR SALES.
     POINT OF THIS, IS THAT SUZANNE AND I WERE ALWAYS ON THE LOOK-OUT FOR ITEMS OF CONSIDERABLE RARITY; THAT MIGHT NOT HAVE BEEN APPEALING TO SHOP CUSTOMERS, BUT WOULD STAND-OUT ON OUR EBAY LISTINGS. SUCH AS MUSKOKA HERITAGE PAPER, WITH LOCAL LETTERHEAD AND REGIONAL INVOICES, ESPECIALLY REPESENTING OUR FORMER BOATWORKS, WITH NAMES LIKE DITCHBURN, DUKE, AND MINETT-SHIELDS. BUT WE COULD BE TEMPTED BY JUST ABOUT ANYTHING, THAT WE BELIEVED TO BE HISTORIC WITH PROVENANCE. SO WHEN I CAME UPON THIS NARROW, HARDCOVER DIARY, DATED 1876, I COULDN'T BELIEVE MY GOOD FORTUNE. IT WAS PRICED AT TEN BUCKS. INSIDE, ALTHOUGH THERE WEREN'T A LOT OF PAGES FILLED, THE DIARY HAD BEEN USED BY A REGIONAL WHEELWRIGHT, WHO ALSO HAD AN INTEREST IN BOOKS. THE PAGES ILLUSTRATED ABOVE, WILL SHOW SOME OF THE ENTRIES. A SAMPLING OF HIS CUSTOMERS, LISTED ON THE OPEN PAGES, INCLUDED THE FOLLOWING:
     "DANIEL JOHNSON, COMBERMERE; A WATTS, BRANTFORD; A. MORTON, BRANTFORD; J. DICKSON, BRANTFORD; W.N. BARRIE, MORRISBURG; DAVIDSON WHITESIDE, LITTLE BRITAIN; W.F. COWAN, OSHAWA; EDWARD SEWELL, QUEBEC; WILLIAM CORMACK, ERIN; JOHN MCDOUGALL, THREE RIVERS; H.G. MASECAR, DELHI; C.T. YOUNG, BEAVERTON; W. LIPSEY, WINGHAM; A. SMITH, SCUGOG; G. WHELER, UXBRIDGE; D.B. WHITE, SHADIAC, NEW BRUNSWICK; AND CHARLES BERTRAND, ISLE VERTE." THERE WERE WHEEL ORDERS THAT HAD TO BE SHIPPED TO HALIFAX AND EVEN AS FAR OFF, AS TO W.N. BARRIE, FOR A REPLACEMENT JOB IN SCOTLAND. THIS SMALL SECTION OF THE DIARY IS UNDER THE HEADING "WHEELS WANTED 1876."
     ONE PAGE OVER, IS A SHORT LISTING OF BOOKS THE WHEELWRIGHT, (WHO IS NEVER NAMED IN THE DIARY), WANTS TO PURCHASE FROM A BOOK SELLER; ADDRESS UNKNOWN. THE BOOKS INCLUDE "CAITLIN'S LETTERS AND NOTES, ON THE CUSTOMS AND CONDITIONS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS, IN 2 VOLUMES, 360 ILLUSTRATIONS, $15, SCRIBNER, WELFORD AND ARMSTRONG; HECKWELDERS 'INDIAN NATIONS'; 'TRANSACTIONS OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY'; 'FOSTER AND WHITNEY'S REPORT ON THE GEOLOGY OF THE LAKE SUPERIOR LAND DISTRICT'; 'SCHOOLCRAFTS' RESEARCHES' 2 VOLUMES."
     THERE IS ALSO AN INTERESTING ACCOUNTING PENNED ONTO ANOTHER PAGE, INVOLVING SOME MATERIAL SHIPMENT VIA LAKE AND RAIL. IT READS AS FOLLOWS; "COAL PER TON, $5.15; LAKE FREIGHT PER TON, .75 CENTS; HARBOR TOLLS, .25 CENTS; RESHIPPING, .25 CENTS; LUMBER, NAILS ETC., .10 CENTS; RAILWAY FREIGHT, $1., SHRINKAGE PER TON, .07 CENTS."
      ON ANOTHER PAGE, IT IS JOTTED DOWN THAT MILK COST FIVE CENTS, AND ONE DOLLAR WAS PAID TO "C. MACKENZIE FOR A HORSE (RIDE) TO SOLLETS (FARMSTEAD)." THE WHEELWRIGHT WAS ALSO SUPPLYING LOADS OF CUT LUMBER TO CUSTOMERS, AS RECORDED IN THE DIARY; INCLUDING LARGE SHIPMENTS OF WHITE OAK. THERE IS A BRIEF REFERENCE TO DELIVERIES TO INDIAN FALLS AND OWEN SOUND HARBOR. AS FAR AS CONTENT, IT'S PRETTY THIN, BUT WELL WORTH THE ORIGINAL TEN DOLLAR INVESTMENT.

Folklore and traditions brought to Muskoka by settlers -

Part of Muskoka heritage most often forgotten - neglected - dismissed as unimportant

One of the first major research projects I undertook as a fledgling regional historian, was an in-depth examination of the Icelandic settlers arriving in the Muskoka district during the early 1870's.......homesteading in vicinity of the hamlet of Rosseau, on hilly and rough terrain they called Hekkla, also the name belonging to a legendary volcano in Iceland. It has never really been explained to me whether or not this was a reference to a miserable place to settle or it was just a comfortable namesake from the home region. Considering the damage done by the volcano over the centuries to Iceland, it’s somewhat hard to imagine it being an entirely complimentary reference. Possibly it was the case that if a volcano could be dealt with in the homeland, this treed and rocky terrain could be equally accommodated by adjustment and industrious pursuit.

The settlers landed here with very little understanding of the english language and they arrived in a region known for its particularly dense forests. Unfortunately this was not presented to them ahead of arrival. As Iceland’s climate and active volcanoes limited the number of trees in their country, one might imagine their chagrin arriving in the Canadian woodlands in the cusp of a winter season......and seeing vast stands of pine where they had expected clearings and arable farmland. They had been duped by immigration and steamship-line agents, as many significant promises were broken......from provision shortfalls, to non–existent employment opportunities, and claims of large tracts of good farmland.....somewhere beneath those towering pines and the massive web of roots over a thin layer of rock. Some settlers decided to leave, shortly after arriving, but those who stayed created a strong and neighborly hamlet still alive and well after all these years. They used the forests to their advantage and built log cabins and barns, and gained concessions from the government for clearing timber off planned roadways through the region.

Muskoka had many European settlers arrive here in those early years and a walk through some of the pioneer cemeteries will reveal just how many cultures have been represent in this part of rural Canada since the first settlers of the late 1850's onward. What is often neglected by regional historians is that these settlers brought their beliefs and traditions with them, and while they may have been somewhat diluted from the home country, it is obvious when examining the earliest pioneer accounts, that cultural identities, tradition and religious beliefs brought from the so called "Old Country," were important and most definitely part of every day life and times.

And they brought their superstitions, fears, concepts of ghosts, hob-goblins, witches, the devil, fairies, sprites, leprechauns, ogres, trolls.....the list goes on and on. When you seek out a cultural profile of Muskoka you really do have to consider how it all began and although it’s true there has been a decade by decade diluting of those early cultural differences due to generational influences and modern times, it’s important to appreciate how these beliefs and traditions survived in those early years, making the new arrivals to the region feel they had successfully established "home."

Consider as well that the Town of Bracebridge, in the summer of 1864, was named after a book written by American author Washington Irving, creator of such memorable characters as Ichabod Crane, the Headless Horseman and Rip Van Winkle. The book was called "Bracebridge Hall," and is an intertwining collection of stories generated in part from the grand estate of Squire Bracebridge, the steward of Bracebridge Hall.....this being a follow-up book to the original Sketch-Book of 1919, when the Bracebridge family was introduced into the collection of stories stretching from British soil to the Haunted Hudson of New York State. A Canadian Federal Postal authority in the 1860's, William Dawson LeSueur, (also a well known literary critic and historian in his spare time) borrowed the name as a tribute to Irving who had recently passed away, and gave it to the fledgling community informally known as North Falls, situated on a major cataract of the Muskoka River. As for stories of mystery and legend, Bracebridge got a literary bonus being tied to one of the most famous authors in history......and entitlement to this writer’s curious characters such as the good Mr. Crane and the headless horseman......still celebrated by a few loyalists each Hallowe’en. It has only been in recent years that the connection between Irving and the Town of Bracebridge, has been more thoroughly cultivated and celebrated, with annual Bracebridge Hall Christmas dinners being held as fundraisers for the local theatre.....in honor of this international literary legacy. While the connection has been known for many decades, and Bracebridge Hall dinners have been held previously, the connection between author and town has never been a focal point or of much interest. As author of a book on the subject in 2000, I intended to change this apathy and inspire a more thorough appreciation of what such a connection can bestow upon a willing and interested community. While there are still no Irving festivals being planned, there is a gradual opening-up to the possibilities of this important literary association.

There are several historic references to the fears and superstitions brought to Muskoka from abroad, as contained in a number of important early books that I would like to share with readers. The first is a story of fear for the surroundings and this was quite understandable. As I noted with the Icelandic settlers, the Muskoka vista was one of dense bush, deep, dark and threatening. If you happened to believe in the wee beasties and hob-goblins that dwell in such untouched, mysterious places, Muskoka was loaded to the hilt with the stuff of legend.

Consider as well that many pioneers were from well populated centers in Europe, some having never lived or even visited a rural area in their own country. Arriving in what was frequently called "a God forsaken" region, it’s logical that many were not going to survive......and would either flee to the urban landscape, a new "lesser-treed" region, or perish as the government anticipated well in advance of welcoming these new Canadians to the land of adventure. There is clear evidence that the Agricultural wing of government, even by the 1880's, knew full well there would be many personal tragedies in the homestead grant districts, when they decided to open new lands for settlement, and had as much budgeted for "acceptable loss"of homesteaders......only hoping only that there would be more who stuck-it-out, than those who quit or perished. The outcome would determine if this Muskoka district experiment could work in other harsh environs.....where settlers would overcome almost insurmountable odds to build modest farmsteads. Out of exhaustion and trepidation for a hostile environs, brewed a horror for some......in this particular case, a husband and wife (mid 1860's) who had become lost in the haunted woods, as told by author Thomas McMurray, in his book "Muskoka and Parry Sound. Now imagine if you can the outright terror of being swallowed up whole by the wilderness, where settlers were miles removed from one another.....and rescue was only a slight possibility.

Consider the lost couple’s religious and cultural beliefs.......and what else did they imagine was hunting them through the inhabited woods.....other than the obvious flies, wolves and bears.

"Lost in the Woods.....The following was written some years ago (prior to 1870), on the occasion of Moses Richardson and his wife getting lost in the woods; Draper township was then but thinly settled, and the sensation it created in the settlement was intense; I (Thomas McMurray) happened to be one of the part who went in search of the missing ones. Persons unacquainted with the bush should be careful not to penetrate too far into it, unless provided with a compass. ‘What means this blowing of horns, firing of arms, and the off-repeated Hoop, whoo that greets the ear and arrests the attention of every settler?’ A man and his wife are lost in the woods is the prompt and excited reply. How sad is every countenance, how agitated every breast, how anxious every neighbor! The unhappy pair had gone in search of their cattle, mistaken their way, and got lost in the dense forest; with wild desperation they are forcing their way through the thicket of swamp, or ascending the rugged mountain’s brow, or climbing over logs vainly in search of the home they left; but alas they are totally bewildered and every step they take leads them farther from the dearest spot on earth....home sweet home.

"The neighbors now begin to collect from all points of the compass; they form themselves into companies, and decide what the signal shall be in case the unhappy wanderers are found. Animated by a noble philanthropy they start, cheered by the happy thought of saving the lost; for hours they pursue their difficult task; crossing deep gullies, ascending almost perpendicular heights, then going down steep precipices, they onward go; the sun begins to sink in the western sky, the shades of evening fall upon them, the dark curtains of night at length are thrown around them; to proceed further would be folly; in the dark they might pass the objects of their search; an eminence is sought and a fire is kindled, in order to attract the notice of the lost ones; the searchers gather around it; a little bread and pork, with some bright water from the brook that flows at the mountain’s base, form their evening meal; no levity characterizes their conduct; there is but one expression visible on each countenance, and that is sadness; hemlock brush is cut and spread that the weary searchers may rest themselves thereon; sleep is out of the question; their trouble is too deep to enjoy nature’s sweet restorer of balmy sleep. The solemn words, ‘Let us pray,’ for the first time are repeated in this dense forest; and, on the still evening air, prayer ascends to Him who came to save which was lost. (Prayers answered). Here, many miles from any human habitation, prayer for the first time is offered by white men to ‘The Great Spirit,’ the missing ones are not forgotten and earnest supplication is made that God would direct their steps. But what of the poor wanderers? They are weak and faint; hunger drives them to despair and death; death from starvation stares them in the face; the husband, as the only alternative, urges his wife to cut a slice from the calf of his leg in order to satiate her craving for food; but the faithful wife replied that she would rather willingly die with her husband.

‘Moments of anxiety pass, and the long-looked for morning dawns, and the sun begins to peep in the eastern horizon, and after partaking of some refreshment they again start on their mission of humanity; the burning sun beams upon them, they wipe the perspiration from their brows, and the flies from their necks, and uncomplainingly persevere over logs and swamps; now the coat of one of the party is caught on a snag and rent to shivers, while another man’s pants are almost torn from top to bottom. Hark! Hark! The report of firearms informs them of the fact that one of the companies has found the wanderers; all fire off their off their guns in ecstasy and run in the direction of the firing to catch a glimpse of Moses and his wife. Oh, what a sad sight was then presented to their gaze. Poor creatures, how sad their condition, how weak, how changed, what wildness in their eyes; they are mad with fright, and are starving with hunger, as one pipe of tobacco has been all that they have enjoyed for over 48 hours; the realization that they were lost, the fear of death, and the lashings of a guilty conscience for having gone out on the Sabbath-day in search of their cattle......they had been lost once before by disregarding the sacred precept.....remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy; together with their swollen limbs and bleeding forms, completed their misery and made the sight painful to behold; still there was joy mingled with sadness, every eye sparkles with delight, every countenance is lit up with a smile, all share in the triumph, men embrace each other and weep for gladness, while the forest fills with their shouting and rejoicings. A little nourishment having been administered to the sufferers, the friends form themselves in procession and take turns carrying the weak ones home; after reaching the log cabin and bidding them an affectionate farewell, they turn their steps homewards with a murmur, although they have travelled many weary miles by a burning sun, and as they proceed they inform every one they meet of the good news. ‘They’re found, they’re found!’.....and all join in a sincere and hearty ‘Thank God, thank God!’

One certainly gets the opinion after reading this that the Devil was lurking in those forboding woods for unsuspecting, naive, and vulnerable wanderers......who should have been more keenly observing the Sabbath instead.

In another reference, Thomas McMurray does make an observation that hasn’t been repeated in history.....or so as far as we historians know.....and as a mystery of our region, it is most definitely worth repeating. It happened in area of Muskoka Falls, just south of the urban area of Bracebridge, at a cataract on the Muskoka River known historically as the Great Falls.

"The Grand Muskoka Falls are always attractive to tourists, and much admired by the lovers of nature. In the spring of 1866 a scene of unusual interest presented itself. In former years the spray had formed an arch of the Falls but on this occasion it assumed the form of a cone with a crater, and from its mouth the spray came boiling forth in awful grandeur, ascending at least 100 feet. It might be compared to a mighty, massive silver fountain, sending forth its sparkling waters. Any one who has witnessed Vesuvius burning in his fury may form some conception of this grand site. As I gazed upon the scene a double rainbow spanned the Falls; countless icicles were hanging from the branches of the tall pines as they bent gracefully over the cataract, and I wished that the world might be privileged with the sight. I drove some distance in order to get an artist to take a negative but the spray was so great that a good picture could not be obtained."

There was great reverence to the nature of Muskoka that came in a variety of forms, from what McMurray reported about the ice and steam of the Great Falls, to the story of the husband and wife lost in the treacherous woods.....as if the forest was a hungry, malevolent force looking for anyone who did not have God’s blessing to enter.

In another fascinating story of an early pioneer family, and the first significant reference to the paranormal, in this homestead era of Muskoka, circa the 1860's, family historian Bert Shea, in his book, "History of The Sheas and Birth of a Township," includes the following tale of one neighbor’s unexpected favor to another homesteader in distress: (The Coming of the Lovelys, circa 1865, page 70-71)

"Pat Lovely, a stout, heavy bodied man, born in Ireland, a shoemaker by trade, migrated to Canada and settled around or near Sarnia, moving to County of York where he traded twelve pairs of men’s hand-made boots for one hundred acres where sits the St. Clair Railway Station, who from there, having heard the call of free grant land in Muskoka, with his young wife and family of small children joined, in the great move northward, their destination Watt Township and the Three Mile Lake settlement of Ufford. Journeying by rail as far as their iron run, then on foot, carrying their belongings, stopping somewhere within the boundary of Muskoka for a night’s lodging.

"And in conversing with others, someone inquired where his destination lay, to which Pat answered, Watt Township. ‘Ah,’ says his friend, ‘I would advise you to stay away from there; in that Three Mile Lake settlement, there area a bunch of human savages. Around Three Mile Lake, that place is known far and near as the home of the Three Mile Lake Wolves and before you is the centre of it. On your way in you will come over Bogart’s Hill and before you is the place known as the Devil’s Den, and the next big hill you look down is Smalley’s Hill, and that is the home of the Three Mile Lake Wolves. They will poison your cattle, they will burn you out. You will never get along, you are Irish Roman Catholic and they are all Orangemen. A blast like this to a man on his way to a new home, among strangers, a law-abiding citizen and a young family, was a terrible dampner to his aspirations. Pat stood silent and motionless for a short time in deep thought. Then turning around facing the direction of his journey, in a low voice and Irish accent says he...’I’m going anyway!’

"Pat arrived in Ufford in the dark dreary month of November in the late afternoon. The heavy clouds skudded across the sky, borne on the northwest wind. Darkness creeping down as he travelled over Bogart’s Hill and through the Devil’s Den. And over Smalley’s Hill into the home of the Three Mile Lake Wolves, to the centre of the valley. And wending in the darkness up the brush trail into his little shanty on the hillside, the naked limbs clashed in the wind overhead, low whirling blasts swirled the dead leaves around, the little shanty door creaked as he swung it open to admit the good wife and children. In the dim light of the little lantern he started a fire on the hearth, that brought light and cheer. This was their fair home.

"It is hard to know what thoughts may have run through the mind of an Irishman awakened by the voices of wind or the night moanings of the trees. And above all the recommendations he had received on his way in, from his friend at the tavern, regardless of thoughts of feelings that may have reigned in the heart and mind of Pat Lovely, prayers were said and all was left in the keeping of the Good Saint and the little family slept, as only they of clean conscience and weary from their travel. The morning broke. Pat and the good woman were astir, the children’s voices were heard and little feet pattered about the shanty. The suddenly from the cover of thick bush walked a tall black-whiskered man. He walked directly to the cabin door. Pat met him at the step, he an Irishman whose face wore the scars of fighting in Ireland, and ready for the worst. Not saying a word, the stranger strode to with arms length of Pat and stopped, looking the Irishman in the eyes, extending his hand saying.... ‘I’m Bill Shea. I believe you are Pat Lovely.’ ‘It’s Pat Lovely I am,’ says he, as he slowly accepted the outstretched hand as a female voice from within the shanty proclaimed, ‘May the Gods in mercy give us peace.’

"What else was said we do not know but from that day on the Lovelys and Sheas were the best of friends. This friendship extended from neighbors to neighbors till Pat became the Irish seasoning in a mixed community. But as time went on, he became regarded by some in a very serious way. As one who possessed certain powers that were mysterious, which he could use in different ways. One most talked of, especially by young people who declared to be true, that Pat had the power to put himself in a 45 gallon oak barrel with both ends closed, the only opening being the two inch bung out of which he would talk to them. (He could also place curses if need be, as was the case with William Kay’s pigs that continually got into and destroyed Pat’s potato crop.....a curse that would last 20 years, and cause a decline in the subject pig population)

"The following account is a true happening and known throughout the neighborhood. Though years have passed since its time, the writer has often heard the aged of the community relate this marvellous affair.

"A neighbor boy of ten or twelve years had got seriously cut and was bleeding to death. The bed was soaked with blood. All efforts to save the boy seemed to be a failure; he could not last much longer. The father walked out of the house, leaving the mother and the boy alone; as he stood before the door the thought came to him. He immediately called the younger son, a boy of perhaps nine years old, saying ‘Go over and tell Pat to come over here quick....your brother is bleeding to death.’ The young son fleet as the wind, lost no time on the run and delivered the message. As the father of the bleeding boy stood on the door yard waiting to see Pat’s sturdy body coming hurriedly over the fields. But not so; he appeared from the door of his own house. Before the door, he stood looking over to his troubled neighbor for a short time in whose interval the mother of the bleeding boy rushed out the door to the father saying the blood has stopped. The writer heard the father when an old man declared the truth of the whole affair, saying ‘Pat didn’t need to come over. He could stop the blood from where he was and the boy got better."

The stories collected by Bert Shea are some of the most significant cultural records in the district, and his two books contain many important references to tradition, folklore, cultural heritage and both family and regional history.

A Spiritual Place for Some

A well known writer of considerable acclaim told me one day that artists and poets have long found Muskoka a spiritual place. I must have, in some way offended her with rolled eyes or a look of disinterest, because she grabbed my arm and stated once again..... "This isn’t just my opinion.....it’s the opinion of many poets and artists who found this an inspiring location to work," because of some extraordinary spiritual connection you might say. Not wanting to offend her for a second time, I listened carefully to her explanation. There wasn’t really any tangible list of reasons why she believed in its spiritual effervescence but she finally said to me..... "You know what I mean as a writer yourself, don’t you?" I had to think about it for awhile then.....and in fact, it has been on my mind for the past several decades. In my own opinion she had a valid point but it’s just not easy to explain. I’ve always been particularly susceptible to things that abut or enter the paranormal including the sensation of being in a spiritually charged setting. As a self-proclaimed landscape writer, I have experienced many enchantments up close and personal in the past 30 years of hiking the woodlands of this region. While at the time she had caught me off guard, I did understand her reference to Muskoka’s spiritual ambience. If you’re a writer or artist, musician or philosopher, hobby or otherwise, who has sat along the lakeshore on a summer evening, you’ve known then the subtle, haunting heartsong of the angel’s harp, and the gentle ease by which the spirit rises from its mortal host......the subtle enchantment of solitude, and its gentle play on the creative disposition. Yes indeed, I have long known Muskoka as a spiritual place.....and in the coming blog entries over the next few months I would like to introduce you to some aspects of Muskoka’s artistic, paranormal heritage that is avoided by historians.......because it is by far more spiritual than factual......closer to paranormal than actual......and it doesn’t have a cornerstone mounted on the side with a time capsule insulated inside. The stories are just stories but no less important to the cultural heritage of our region of Canada.

Some of this will, in part, pertain to the curiosity and literary provenance of having Washington Irving’s name associated with the history of Muskoka......and as he examined the phantom ships on the Hudson River, a Headless Horseman and the disappearance of the good Mr. Crane, we’ll have a wee look at some of our own home grown phantoms, sightings, meetings, and other "passing in the night" events........a rail employee who was decapitated when he fell from a moving train north of Bracebridge....who may still be looking for his head, to a phantom lady in a Victorian gown who can’t get used to her final resting spot in a Milford Bay Cemetery.....and gets her hem caught on the fence trying to step out of the graveyard......to voices from a burial ground calling to passersby for their attention to their plight. They aren’t frightening stories but interesting tales worth re-telling.