Tuesday, November 18, 2014

A Blizzard Of A Day In South Muskoka, But At Least We're Not Buffalo; Christmas In Muskoka


GRAVENHURST COUNCILLORS MAY BE TESTED EARLY IN THEIR TERM, IF EDUCATION CUTS PUT FOCUS ON HIGH SCHOOL

     WHILE I HAVE MODEST EXPECTATIONS FOR THE PERFORMANCE OF GRAVENHURST COUNCIL, IN THE COMING FOUR YEAR TERM, IT WOULD BE PRUDENT FOR THEM TO AT LEAST PAY EXTRA ATTENTION TO QUEEN'S PARK. NO SOONER DO THE LIBERALS (TALK ABOUT SAME OLD, SAME OLD) TAKE OFFICE, THAN WE START HEARING ABOUT A HONKING BIG TAX DEFICIT, OF ABOUT 12 BILLION, IF I HEARD CORRECTLY, AND AN UNWILLINGNESS OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT TO CHANGE THEIR POINT OF VIEW ABOUT GIVING THE PROVINCE MORE CASH. DON'T BLAME THEM. THEY'D ONLY BLOW IT ANYWAY. SO WHAT ELSE CAN THE LEADERSHIP DO, OTHER THAN HAMMER US. WE'RE USED TO IT, JUST LIKE WE GET USED TO FOUL WEATHER.
     THE CONCERN I HAVE, IS THAT THEY'RE GOING TO DUMP THE MUSKOKA CENTRE PROPERTY, AND POTENTIALLY CONSIDER THE FUTURE VIABILITY OF GRAVENHURST HIGH SCHOOL. IN CASE YOU MISSED THE EVENING NEWS, THERE IS EXPECTATION, THE MINISTRY OF EDUCATION MAY BE LOOKING AT COST SAVINGS, AND THAT POTENTIALLY, COULD INVOLVE SCHOOL CLOSINGS. ENROLLMENT ISN'T THAT GREAT LOCALLY, AND THIS IS A TREND IN MANY AREAS OF ONTARIO, AND THAT'S NEVER A GOOD SITUATION WHEN COST CUTTING IS BEING CONSIDERED AT THE PROVINCIAL LEVEL. GRAVENHURST HIGH SCHOOL HAS BEEN VULNERABLE IN THIS REGARD, FOR THE PAST FEW YEARS NOW; AND FACING HISTORICAL REALITY, IT WAS NEARLY CLOSED A FEW YEARS BACK, WHEN THE UBER HIGH SCHOOL WAS BUILT ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF BRACEBRIDGE. THE BOARD OF EDUCATION ENTERTAINED THE IDEA OF CLOSING G.H.S., AND BUSSING LOCAL STUDENTS TEN OR SO MILES NORTH. SUZANNE AND I WERE MEMBERS OF THE COMMITTEE THAT FOUGHT THE CLOSURE AND WON. IT COULD HAPPEN AGAIN. HOW SOON? IT DEPENDS ON HOW DRASTIC THE CUTS WILL BE, IF THE MINISTRY LOOKS TO THE RURAL AREAS TO SHRED BUDGETS.
     THERE IS A MINIMUM LEVEL OF STUDENT ENROLLMENT, THE TOWN OF GRAVENHURST SHOULD FAMILIARIZE THEMSELVES WITH REAL SOON. THE BOARD OF EDUCATION SETS THESE MINIMUMS TO DETERMINE SCHOOL VIABILITY. I WARNED THE PAST TOWN COUNCIL, AT LEAST THREE YEARS AGO, THAT THE THRESHOLD WAS CLOSE, AND THAT THEY SHOULD FORM A WORKING COMMITTEE, TO LIAISE WITH THE BOARD OF EDUCATION, TO MITIGATE THE STUNNING IMPACT WE HAD INFLICTED UPON US, ORIGINALLY AND UNEXPECTEDLY, WHEN WE WERE TOLD OUR SCHOOL WAS GOING TO BE CLOSED, IN FAVOR OF A SUPER SCHOOL BEING OPENED SOMEWHERE ELSE. FOR ALL THE ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT CONCERNS OUR ELECTED OFFICIALS YAP ABOUT, CONTINUALLY, THEY SHOULD BE VERY CLEAR ON WHAT THE CLOSING OF OUR SCHOOL WILL MEAN TO THE FUTURE OF THE TOWN. WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN A PROACTIVE, "MOVING FORWARD," INTEREST, A FEW YEARS BACK, DIDN'T BOTHER COUNCILLORS IN THE LEAST. WELL, MAYBE NOW, WITH CUTS AND CLOSURES IMMINENT IN THE PROVINCE, THEY WILL TAKE THE INITIATIVE TO FIND OUT WHAT THE THRESHOLD ENROLLMENT IS, BY CONTACTING THE BOARD AND ASKING OUTRIGHT. THE LAST TIME THIS CLOSURE ISSUE REARED ITS UGLY HEAD, IT TOOK A POWERFUL COMMITTEE, USING EVERY RESOURCE AVAILABLE, TO KNOCK THE BOARD'S PLAN OFF TRACK. COUNCIL DIDN'T IMPRESS ME THEN FOR SURE, AND IT ONLY RESPONDED AFTER DEMANDS BY THE COMMITTEE TO GET INVOLVED.
     I WARNED COUNCILLORS, VIA THIS BLOG, THAT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A DEMANDING FOUR YEAR TERM. IF THE PROVINCE COMES AROUND, LOOKING TO SAVE MONEY, AT OUR TOWN'S LOSS, THIS WILL CERTAINLY DESTROY THE STATUS QUO MOST COUNCILLORS SEEM TO ENJOY AT TOWN HALL. THERE'S LOTS MORE TO COME. THE QUESTION HERE, IS WHETHER THE TOWN TRULY KNOWS, WHAT IS AT RISK. I'D LIKE TO SEE GRAVENHURST GEAR UP WELL IN ADVANCE, JUST IN CASE THE AXE FALLS. IT JUST DOESN'T SEEM PRUDENT, TO LET IT SLIDE, AND REACT AFTER THE HORSE IS LONG GONE FROM THE BARN. BUT THEN, THIS IS KIND OF A HALLMARK HERE. LIKE REPAIRING THE OPERA HOUSE ROOF IN THE SNOW, AGAIN.    



THE WINTER WIND BLOWS, AND BLOWS, AND DID I MENTION, IT'S DARN COLD

A SEASONAL MESSAGE FROM A MUSKOKA SCHOOL-HOUSE BOOK FROM 1884
 
     "HIGH AND LOW, THE WINTER WINDS BLOW! THEY FILL THE HOLLOWS WITH DRIFTS OF SNOW, AND SWEEP ON THE HILLS A PATHWAY CLEAR, THEY HURRY THE CHILDREN ALONG TO SCHOOL, AND WHISTLE A SONG FOR THE HAPPY NEW YEAR." THIS WAS THE INTRODUCTION, AND COMPANION GRAPHIC TO AN 1884, ONTARIO PUBLIC SCHOOL "SECOND READER." THE GOOD CONDITION HARDCOVER COPY, WAS FOUND IN AN ESTATE COLLECTION, IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, AND THE ORIGINAL OWNER WAS A YOUNG CHAP BY THE NAME OF VANDERBURG. IT IS A FASCINATING LITTLE TEXT, AND IT'S NEAT TO IMAGINE THE OLD ONE ROOM SCHOOLHOUSE WHERE IT WAS USED, SINCE IT WAS PUBLISHED AND SENT TO TEACHERS IN 1884. THERE WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ENOUGH OF THESE BOOKS TO COVER THE SCHOOL ENROLLMENT, BUT IT'S TO BE EXPECTED THE TEACHER HAD A MASTER COPY.
     "O, SWIFT WE GO, O'ER THE FLEECY SNOW, WHEN MOONBEAMS SPARKLE ROUND, WHERE HOOFS KEEP TIME, IN MUSIC'S CHIME, AS MERRILY ON WE BOUND," IS THE INTRODUCTION TO THE POEM, "A SONG OF THE SLEIGH."
     "On winter's night, when hearts are light, and health is on the wind, we loose the rein and sweep the plain, and leave our cares behind. With a laugh and song, we glide along, across the fleeting snow; with friends beside, how swift we ride, on the beautiful track below.  O the raging sea has joys for me, when gale and tempests roar, but give me the speed of a foaming steed, and I'll ask for the waves no more." There is another story, in the form of a lesson, entitled "Shapes of Snow Flakes," somewhat appropriate to the day we have been enjoying, or rather, enduring, here in South Muskoka.
     "O, father,' said Ethel, as Mr. Ray came in to tea one winter evening; 'your coat is covered with snow. I will brush it off you.' So Ethel hurried to get the brush, and soon her little hands were at work, though she had to stand on tip-toe to reach her father's shoulder. 'Why, father, this flake is shaped just like a star; and here are more that look like stars, only some of the points are broken.' 'Yes, my daughter; all the flakes of this storm have the same shape.' 'Are snow-flakes always of the same shape, father?' said Paul, who had followed his sister into the hall. 'No, my son; they are of many different forms. How would you like to have a talk about snow-flakes after supper?' A clapping of hands from both the children showed their pleasure at the prospect.
     "Ethel then ran for her father's slippers, and they all went in to tea. After it was over, Mr. Ray brought his magnifying glass, a pencil and some paper, and the family gathered round the table. Having caught some flakes on a piece of black cloth, Mr. Ray told the children to use the glass quickly. They did so, and saw plainly the fine white stars, which soon melted, however, in the warm room. Their father told them that star-shaped flakes do not fall in driving storms; even if they have that form at first, they lose it by dashing against one another. The star-shaped crystals are seen only in gentle falls of snow, or when a storm is over, and the last flakes are falling. If it gets colder or warmer during a storm, there is a change in the shape of the crystals.
     "When it is very cold, the crystals have the greatest beauty and variety of form. A traveller in the far north examined and drew several hundred different shapes. Snow-flakes have been called frozen flowers; and, indeed, the star-shaped crystals do look like pure white blossoms. In reply to a question from Paul, as to whether the snow was of any use, his father told him that it makes a warm cover for the ground, and serves as a blanket to keep the roots of plants and flowers from being frozen."
     I swear that I can still smell the faint scent of woodsmoke, ingrained in the old book, that would have been unfolded on those old wood desks, in that drafty school-house; the glow of firelight, sparking in its orange glow, through the openings around the closed iron door, and the oil lamps illuminated on the window ledge, filling the room with the aroma of spent coal oil.
     Sitting in the log or wood frame school-house, hearing the branches of the tree outside the window, hitting the glass panes in the gusting wind, and feeling very alone and isolated, even amongst school chums, one wonders, what stories this book has, by association, been a part of, in Muskoka's school history. The following poem may have been the perfect fit for a day like today, back in the 1880's, in our district of Ontario. It is entitled "How The Wind Blows."
     "High and low, the spring winds blow! They take the kites that the boys have made, and carry them off high into the air; they snatch the little girls' hats away, and toss and tangle their flowing hair. High and low, the summer winds blow! They dance and play with the garden flowers, and bend the grasses and yellow grain; they rock the bird in her hanging nest, and dash the rain on the window pane. High and low, the autumn winds blow! They frighten the bees and blossoms away. And whirl the dry leaves over the ground; They shake the branches of all the trees, and scatter ripe nuts and apples around. High and low, the winter winds blow! They fill the hollows with drifts of snow, and sweep on the hills a pathway clear; they hurry the children along to school, and whistle a song for the happy New Year."

THE EARLY SNOW OF OUR DISCONTENT - BUT A JOY TO BEHOLD TO THE HARDY AMONGST US

     I just watched an elderly man sprinting down Muskoka Road, trying to catch his tumbling hat, now half a block further along the street, than when it flew off, as he was getting into his car. The store signs are vibrating in the wind, and at times, the snow gusts are so intense, they open the door of the shop to let in, we suppose, the phantom shopper. It is late afternoon, and darker than usual, because of the heavy cloud cover, and the blowing snow. The street lights have been coming on, and store signs have been illuminated in the darker than normal afternoon. It's pretty early to be making cute comments like "it's getting to look a lot like Christmas." That's exactly what it looks like. I don't know where my winter boots are, and my running shoes are like skates on the snow and ice. I've got some snowshoes, and an antique winter hat, made out of some wild critter, by a northerner a long time ago. It's warm to the point of making my eyebrows sweat, and making it hard to hear my wife yelling at me, about not running over the neighbor's dog, that has run behind the van. I had to stop wearing it, because it's dangerous in the car, and compromising in general winter conditions. Wearing it, I might walk in front of my neighbor's snowblower, and get shredded onto the snowbank. If there is a blizzard, I will don it for awhile, until I am buried in the snow, with only my head and hat visible above the surface. Then someone will think it is wild game, and try to tackle it for a pioneer supper. Aye, laddie, the winterscape can drive a person nuts. I'm already halfway there, and it's only mid November for gosh sakes.
     Now on a softer saner side!
     This has not a day for motoring. It has not been a great day for sauntering. Or wearing a hat that isn't a toque, or attached by a thick strap. It has been another early blast of winter weather, in what is supposed to be the time of late autumn's Indian Summer. Apparently, that's coming by the first of next week. With its high winds, and colder than November temperatures, it hasn't been one of the pleasant winter-type days; rather a day best spent by the hearth of some great, crackling fire, with cocoa, a good book, and afghan over your lap; and a nice old Boston Rocker to make the storm seem irrelevant to the celebration of home recreations.
     What always surprises me, about wickedly textured days like this, is to see how many folks venture out, almost as if to make a point to the prevailing conditions, that they are tougher, than the wind is strong; more resistant to winter storms, than the day is cold and threatening. This type of weather, certainly falls into the chapter, of the weather history of Muskoka, dating back many decades. Muskoka's traditional winters, were Canadian classics, and I lived through a great many I thought would never, ever end. I must be thoroughly seasoned now, in mid-life, because I don't get too upset by weather warnings, that suggest it is best to stay home, to avoid the nastiness of a drive up the highway; or even a few town blocks to get to work. Of course we're tougher than this, and on some of the most inclement of winter days, you will find kindred spirits out and about, who simply won't be thwarted by snow squalls. I think if our houses were buried overnight by new snow, and we were given the day off otherwise, we'd still be up bright and early, to start the shoveling once again. We can be heard muttering some curses, and occasionally, the suggestion winter is "God forsaken," and "I love Muskoka in my rear-view mirror," but overall, up and down our neighborhood, folks are rather cheerful about the whole process of snow removal; and getting along with the encumbrance of inconvenience, that will last, by the shovels full, until as late as the middle of April. We are Muskokans, we mutter in a low growl, and pull on a second pair of mitts, to keep our fingers from freezing white. With hats already topped with two or three layers of snow, and our eyelashes with tiny snowballs, we venture forth to discover what is left to clear away from the driveway, to be able to exit sometime in the near future. We arrive just in time, to have our good friend next door, turn the chute of his snowblower, in our general direction, such that we get a mouth full of his snow
     It is very early to start the winter season, but then again, the old tales that are re-told, will remind us all, that it will get worse before it gets better. So best not complain too much. And there are the suggestions, from the very old and wise, that if we get a lot of snow and cold at the start of the season, the second half of the winter will be much warmer, and a lot drier. If of course, you believe in such wisdom, and carry-on about gophers seeing their shadows or not. We've got the Christmas season to look forward to, at present, and there's a strikingly good chance, it will be a white one. I think now, a balmy, sunny, spring-like day, would only mess up the consistency of winter preparedness. If nature has decided to winterize our region, may she also be kind enough, to not tease us with the kind of reprieve, that will make us drop our guard in advance, of the very next storm coming down the pike. I have already trained my arms, shoulders and back, to shovel once again, and in fact, the opening pains of the season, have already been experienced and passed; so it would be a shame to have to re-condition the body, should another warm spell cover over the land, I see today, as very, very cold and snow-covered.
     I sometimes, for the purpose of gaining a sense of "actuality," will sit out in our vehicle, in the late afternoons, in uptown Gravenhurst, and write about the comings and goings of the local citizenry. I was ready to head there an hour ago, but chickened out, when a gust of icy wind took my hat, and flung it like a kite, high in the sky, and tumbling it a full block down the road. I hustled to get it back, but being half frozen by this point of recovery, decided I would have to write today's actuality, while sitting in my warm shop's music studio instead. I feel slightly defeated, but resolve that it is perfectly fine to be a coward today, knowing full well, that when I get home, I will have no choice, but to shovel the driveway in this same weather event, that has kept me inside most of the day. If one thrives on severe weather contrasts, then this is going to be a winter of bliss. My bliss, comes from residing some place warm, with that cup of cocoa in one hand, a good book in the other, an afghan across my lap, and a rocking chair to ease my conscience. I will sit next to an electric radiator, if there is no fire in the hearth. But I footnote this, with the clear resolve, that I will not try to escape the winter, by retreating from Muskoka, to vacation in the deep south. I am a Muskokan. I love spring, summer, and fall, and endure all the rest, with a sense of the ironic, and the poetic. Thus, this blog!
     But thank goodness we're not as far south as Buffalo. Many feet of snow. And what we're whining about, in their terms and by comparison, to what they have just received, would be a light feather dusting. Several snowmachines just flew by Birch Hollow, but thankfully, not across my lawn as is customary, early on in the winter season. Hey, it's still autumn.


From My Christmas Archives


   THE HISTORIC NEWSPAPER OFFICE; OF WHICH I WAS A PART - IT WAS COMMUNITY HISTORY AND I WAS LIVING IT!

WHAT WOULD NOW BE CONSIDERED A MUSEUM QUALITY EXHIBIT.


    WHEN PRESIDENT KENNEDY WAS SHOT, IN DALLAS, FIFTY YEARS AGO, I WAS A STUDENT AT LAKESHORE PUBLIC SCHOOL, IN BURLINGTON, ONTARIO. WE LIVED IN THE NAGY APARTMENTS ON HARRIS CRESCENT. I WAS A HOLY TERROR, IF THAT INFORMATION COUNTS FOR ANYTHING. I WOULD HAVE BEEN EIGHT AND A HALF YEARS OLD. I SO CLEARLY REMEMBER, WALKING TO BRANT STREET, FOR SOME GROCERIES, AFTER SCHOOL THAT DAY, AND HEARING CHURCH BELLS RINGING, AND WITNESSING ALMOST EMPTY STREETS....THAT NORMALLY WOULD HAVE BEEN BUSY AT THAT TIME OF THE DAY. CANADIAN FLAGS WE SAW, HAD BEEN LOWERED TO HALF MAST, OUT OF RESPECT FOR THE PRESIDENT. AND THE CONVERSATIONS ON THE MAIN STREET, AT LEAST THAT WE HEARD WHILE PASSING, WERE ALL ABOUT THE DEATH OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. EVEN MY MOTHER HAD TEARS IN HER EYS WATCHING THE NEWS RIGHT THROUGH THAT WEEK, ENDING WITH THE FUNERAL PROCESSION TO THE ARLINGTON CEMETERY. SHE SAVED ALL THE NEWSPAPERS. MILLIONS OF PEOPLE DID THE SAME THING.
     FIFTY YEARS AGO TODAY. WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THE PRESIDENT WAS SHOT? WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER? WHAT DID YOUR PARENTS TELL YOU ABOUT THE ASSASSINATION? IF YOU WEREN'T AROUND AT THAT TIME, BEING YOUNGER THAN FIFTY YEARS, HOW DID YOUR PARENTS EXPLAIN THAT DARK DAY IN NOVEMBER? IT'S HARD TO BELIEVE, ISN'T IT, THAT A HALF CENTURY HAS PASSED.

MY PORTAL ONTO THE WORLD...AS SMALL AS IT WAS BACK THEN

     MAYBE YOU'VE BEEN MADE TO FEEL OLDER THAN YOU ARE! I'M FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS AND COUNTING, AND I WAS JUST RECENTLY GIVEN A SENIORS' DISCOUNT AT A LOCAL RESTAURANT. DOES IT MEAN I'M AGING, IN APPEARANCE, BEYOND MY YEAR? WERE THEY THINKING TO THEMSELVES, "HECK, WE DON'T KNOW....HE LOOKS LIKE HE'S A SENIOR, HE LIMPS, AND HAS A SCRUFFY BEARD. BALDING! HE MUST BE A SENIOR CITIZEN." SUZANNE WANTED TO KEEP THIS OUT OF MY BLOG, EVEN TRYING TO BRIBE ME WITH PEACH COBBLER, BECAUSE SHE GOT THE DISCOUNT AS WELL. IT WAS QUITE A JOKE FOR SONS ROBERT AND ANDREW, AND EACH TIME A RESTAURANT BILL COMES OUR WAY NOW, ONE OF THEM WILL GRAB IT, TO SEE IF WE GOT THE DISCOUNT FOR A SECOND TIME. WE LET THEM KNOW, THAT IF YOU PICK UP THE BILL, RULE IS, "YOU'RE PAYING!" SO THEY DON'T DO THAT ANY MORE!
     AT AROUND THIS TIME OF YEAR, I ALWAYS MISS THOSE DAYS, WORKING IN, WHAT I REALIZE NOW, WAS A VERY HISTORIC NEWSPAPER OFFICE. BY TODAY'S STANDARD, WHERE MAIN BUSINESS-CORE NEWSPAPER OFFICES ARE DISAPPEARING, THE FORMER HERALD-GAZETTE NEWSPAPER OFFICE, AT 27 DOMINION STREET, IN BRACEBRIDGE, SHOULD HAVE BEEN CONSERVED AS AN HISTORIC SITE; NOTHING ALTERED FROM THE WAY IT WAS, ESPECIALLY FROM THE EARLY 1980'S, BEFORE PHYSICAL ALTERATIONS WERE MADE DOWNSTAIRS. WHEN I ARRIVED IN THE OFFICE, FOR MY FIRST DAY OF WORK, IT WAS LIKE WALKING INTO THE PAST. THE BOYER FAMILY HAD KEPT IT SO WONDERFULLY TRADITONAL, YET FUNCTIONAL, AND I WAS ATTRACTED TO THOSE RAISED, HAND CUT IRON LETTERS, THAT SPELLED-OUT, "THE HERALD-GAZETTE," WHICH WERE ANCHORED TO THE STUCCO WALL. FOR GOOD LUCK, I USED TO TOUCH ONE OF THE LETTERS, EVERY TIME I CAME INTO THE BUILDING. I DID SO WHEN I WENT FOR MY FIRST INTERVIEW. AND EVERY DAY AFTER. I DON'T DO IT ANY MORE, BECAUSE THEY'RE TUCKED INTO A BOX, IN STORAGE, BECAUSE I HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT HOW TO DISPLAY THEM PROPERLY. DID I MENTION, I OWN THE LETTERS. BOUGHT THEM AT THE LOCAL RE-STORE FOR TWENTY BUCKS. MY GOOD FORTUNE. BUT THEY SHOULD BE IN A MUSEUM. WHICH BRINGS UP ANOTHER POINT. FEELING OLD, IS PART OF MY LIFE THESE DAYS, AS THE TYPEWRITERS I USED TO WORK ON, ARE NOW COLLECTABLE, AND THE OFFICE I USED TO WORK IN, I'M TOLD, SHOULD HAVE BEEN TURNED INTO A MUSEUM. OR PACKAGED AND SENT TO THE SMITHSONIAN. THAT WOULD MAKE ME A MUSEUM PIECE, IF I WAS ONE OF THE OLD FARTS INCLUDED IN THE EXHIBIT. STANDING THERE, WEARING A FEDORA, WITH A "PRESS" CARD INSERTED BEHIND THE HAT BAND. DID YOU EVER THINK THAT SOMETHING SO IMPORTANT, AND INGRAINED IN A COMMUNITY, LIKE THE LOCAL NEWSPAPER OFFICE, WOULD DISAPPEAR FROM THE MAIN BUSINESS AREA? WHEN I TRY TO EXPLAIN TO YOUNGER FOLKS, WHY THIS WAS A PIVOTAL PLACE IN THE SOCIAL / CULTURAL LIFE OF OUR TOWNS, I FIND MYSELF BECOMING MIRED IN SENTIMENTALITY, AND THUS, THE STORY GETS WATERED DOWN, AND SNUFFS OUT; WHEN I REALIZE THEY THINK OF ME AS AN ANTIQUARIAN OF INDUSTRY.....SUCH THAT I SHOULD HAVE AN EXPLANATORY PLAQUE ON MY CHEST, OUTLINING WHAT I WAS ONCE USED FOR AROUND THE OFFICE.
      HONESTLY, AND THINKING OF MYSELF AS SOMEWHAT VISIONARY, I COULD NEVER HAVE IMAGINED, A TOWN LIKE OURS, OR BRACEBRIDGE, NOT HAVING A NEWSPAPER OFFICE IN, AND AROUND THE HISTORIC DOWNTOWN. EVEN TWO YEARS AGO, I WOULD HAVE ARGUED, THAT OUR BANNER OFFICE, ON MUSKOKA ROAD, WOULD BE THERE LONG AFTER MY LIFE EXPECTANCY. IT'S KIND OF SHOCKING TO A TRADITIONALIST LIKE ME, AND STRANGE THING......, OUTSIDE OF ME REPORTING ON THE DEPARTURE, FOR THIS BLOG, NO ONE ELSE HAD ANYTHING TO SAY. WHAT WAS AN UNFORTUNATE MOMENT IN TOWN HISTORY, AS FAR AS THIS HISTORIAN IS CONCERNED, WASN'T EVEN A BLIP ON THE RADAR FOR LOCAL READERS. EITHER THEY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY, OR WHETHER IT WAS POLITICALLY CORRECT TO PROTEST THE MOVE, IT WILL CERTAINLY BE RECORDED IN TOWN HISTORY, THAT WE CAPITULATED TO THE NEW PLAN FOR US WITHOUT A WRINKLE OF PUBLIC CONCERN. NOT FROM THE LOCAL BIA, NOT FROM THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE, NOT FROM TOWN HALL, AND NOT FROM THE CITIZENS. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE OTHER HISTORIANS IN TOWN THOUGHT ABOUT IT, BUT BY REMAINING SILENT, REGARDING SUCH A MILESTONE EVENT, WAS MORE THAN A LITTLE CURIOUS. OF COURSE, I DON'T AGREE WITH THEM, AND THEY DON'T TALK TO ME. BUT LOSING THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN DIFFERENCES OF OPINION AND PROTOCOLS. HISTORY IS HISTORY, AND THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN STATEMENTS ISSUED BY THESE HISTORIANS. IT'S NOT THE QUESTION THEY COULD HAVE STOPPED WHAT BIG BUSINESS WANTED TO DO, BUT EVEN A WHIMPER OF PROTEST WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN LEAVING THE VERY PUBLIC, CULTURAL CHANGE, WITHOUT COMMENT; ESPECIALLY FROM THOSE WHO KNOW GRAVENHURST BEST. I AM STILL CONSIDERED A TRANSPLANTED BRACEBRIDGE HISTORIAN, EVEN THOUGH OUR FAMILY HAS BEEN HERE SINCE 1989. SO KNOWING MY PLACE, I ALWAYS LET THEM CUT IN FRONT, TO HAVE THEIR SAY. LATELY I'VE BEEN DISAPPOINTED THEY HAVEN'T SAID MUCH OF ANYTHING ABOUT DAY TO DAY HISTORY BEING MADE. IT'S PART OF THE VOLUNTEER JOB WE HISTORIANS ACCEPT, TO REPRESENT OUR COMMUNITY CHRONICLE, BECAUSE IF WE DON'T.....THEN WHO WILL.
     MUSKOKA HISTORIANS, GEORGE BOYER, AND HIS SON ROBERT BOYER, WROTE IMPORTANT REGIONAL HISTORIES. BUT I KNOW, FROM WORKING WITH ROBERT BOYER, AT MUSKOKA PUBLICATIONS, THAT OLD NEWSPAPER FILES, WERE ONE OF HIS MOST IMPORTANT RESOURCES, WHEN HE WROTE "A GOOD TOWN GREW HERE." IN 2000, WHEN THE TOWN HISTORY WAS UPGRADED BY A HERITAGE COMMITTEE, FROM THE FIRST WORLD WAR TO THE NEW CENTURY, THOSE NEWSPAPER ARCHIVES WERE OF CRITICAL IMPORTANCE, TO COMPOSING THE YEAR BY YEAR ACCOUNT, ENTITLED "A GOOD TOWN CONTINUES." AS IT HAS BEEN IN THOUSANDS OF OTHER NORTH AMERICAN COMMUNITIES, THE NEWSPAPER FILES HAVE BEEN USED SIMILARLY, TO DOCUMENT NEWS EVENTS FROM THE FIRST ROUGH-HEWN NEWSPAPER OFFICES, RIGHT UP TO THE PUBLICATION DATE OF RESPECTIVE BOOKS. MOST OF THOSE HISTORIES, INCLUDING OUR OWN, COULD NOT HAVE BEEN AS THOROUGH, WITHOUT THE BENEFIT OF THESE WEEKLY CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE COMMUNITY ARCHIVES. WITH RECENT CHANGES IN THE PUBLICATIONS IN MUSKOKA, HISTORIANS ARE GOING TO BE HARD PRESSED, TO FIND COMPARABLE RECORDS TO USE IN THE FUTURE, AS WORKING ARCHIVES, BECAUSE A MAJORITY OF THE MATERIAL PUBLISHED, IS WHAT WE OLD NEWS HOUNDS CALL "SOFT NEWS." THE HISTORY TEXTS WERE NOT COMPOSED OF FEATURE NEWS, BECAUSE THERE WAS ONLY A MINOR AMOUNT EVER PUBLISHED, AND THEY WERE MOSTLY FROM COMMUNITY NEWS CORRESPONDENTS, REPRESENTING AREA TOWNS, VILLAGES, HAMLETS AND CROSSROADS. NICE STUFF BUT NOT WHAT WAS INCLUDED IN THE NEWS COMPENDIUMS WE FIND SO VALUABLE TODAY. THE NEWSPAPERS CARRY MUCH MORE SOFT NEWS, IN THE WAY OF FEATURES, AND THIS WILL NOT SERVE FUTURE HISTORIANS, AS WE, TODAY'S ARCHIVISTS, WERE ADVANTAGED IN OUR EARLY RELATIONSHIP, WITH THE COMMUNITY PRESS. SO LOSING A NEWSPAPER OFFICE, IN THE MAIN BUSINESS AREA OF TOWN, IS MORE THAN JUST THE LOST OF AN HISTORIC ENTERPRISE, AND A TRADITION; BUT THE LOSS OF A VEHICLE THAT MAINTAINED THE CHRONICLE OF OUR MARCH THROUGH TIME.
     THE LEAD-UP TO CHRISTMAS, WAS A WONDERFUL TIME AT THE ANTIQUATED HERALD-GAZETTE OFFICE. READERS AND ADVERTISERS WERE ALWAYS IN SUCH GOOD HUMOR, AND WE USED TO INVITE FOLKS INTO THE INNER SANCTUM, AND UP TO THE NEWSROOM FOR A LITTLE VISIT.....WHEN FOR MOST OF THE YEAR, WE RAN A PRETTY TIGHT SHIP, SECURITY WISE. IT WAS NICE TO TALK WITH READERS PARTICULARLY, BECAUSE WE ONLY HAD JOBS IF THEIR NUMBERS STAYED UP. MANAGEMENT REMINDED US, OF THIS FACT, WHENEVER WE ASKED FOR A RAISE. IF THE PAID CIRCULATION WAS UP, OUR CHANCES OF GETTING A FEW MORE COINS, IN THE PAY ENVELOPE, WERE GOOD. IF WE'D SUFFERED A DECLINE, WE ALWAYS GOT BLAMED FOR IT, AND REMINDED OF OUR TASK, WHICH WAS TO BUILD AN EMPIRE, NOT CHOP IT DOWN. SO WHEN WE COULD GET UP CLOSE, TO THE READERS, IN THIS COMFORTABLE SETTING, ON THE CUSP OF CHRISTMAS, WE GOT TO CONDUCT OUR OWN SURVEY OF WANTS AND SUGGESTIONS. BUT MORE THAN THIS, IT WAS WHAT A COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER WAS SUPPOSED TO DO AFTERALL. IT WAS THE SOCIAL / CULTURAL CONDUIT FOR THE COMMUNITY; FROM US, ON TO THE READERS, AND BACK AGAIN TO US; AND IT JUST KEPT SHINGLING OVER AND OVER. WE WERE A REFLECTION OF THE COMMUNITY, AND EVEN THOUGH THERE WAS NO DOUBT IN ANYONE'S MIND, BACK THEN, THAT WE WERE A CONSERVATIVE NEWSPAPER, OUR COMMITTMENT WAS TO ALL READERS AND POTENTIAL SUBSCRIBERS, TO STALWARTLY REPORT THE NEWS, AND ENTERTAIN THOSE WHO STUCK WITH US DURING THE PERIODS OF INTENSE COMPETITION.
     THE CLOSER WE GOT TO THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY, WHICH I VOLUNTEERED TO WORK, BECAUSE I WAS THE ONLY UNATTACHED STAFFER, THE MORE FESTIVE WE ALL BECAME. I WAS ALWAYS AGHAST ABOUT THE NUMBER OF GIFTS THAT CAME INTO THE OFFICE, OFTEN DESIGNATED FOR THE NEWS DEPARTMENT, OR TO BE SHARED WITH COLLEAGUES IN PRODUCTION. WE MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE EATEN THEIR PORTION, IF IT WAS CANDY. IF IT WAS BOOZE TO THE PUBLISHER, WE CLAIMED HALF AS A SORT OF TOLL, FOR PASSAGE THROUGH THE NEWSROOM.
     BUT IT WAS GREAT TO MEET THESE KIND CITIZENS, WHEN THEY CAME INTO THE OFFICE WITH THEIR NEATLY WRAPPED GIFTS, AND WHAT A CONNECTION WE MADE THEN, SHAKING THEIR HANDS, AND WISHING EACH OTHER A MERRY CHRISTMAS. THERE WAS AN HISTORIC AND TRADITIONAL CONNECTION BEING REINFORCED, THROUGH THAT PERIOD OF GENEROUS GOODWILL, THAT WE ALL FELT, AFTER A BUSY, AND FREQUENTLY CONTROVERSIAL YEAR OF REPORTING. WE HAD A LOT OF TOUGH AND VERY SAD HARD NEWS TO REPORT, MANY TRAGIC REVELATIONS TO LAY BEFORE OUR READERS, AND WE ALL TOOK THE STORIES LIKE THIS, SO PERSONALLY, BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW HOW ELSE TO MANAGE THE EXPOSURE. THE YEAR WHEN WE COVERED THE SAD STORY, OF A YOUNG GIRL, SUFFERING FROM TERMINAL CANCER, THROUGH THE LONG RIGORS OF CHEMOTHERAPY, WE ALL, BECAUSE OF INTIMATE EXPOSURE TO THE GIRL, AND HER FAMILY, HAD HUGE DIFFICULTY SEPARATING OUR JOB, OF FUNDAMENTAL REPORTING, FROM THE EMOTIONAL CONNECTION WE MADE WITH HER.  WHEN SHE PASSED AWAY, WE FOUND OUT INDIVIDUALLY, THERE WERE MORE DANGERS TO THE JOB THAN GETTING INJURED AT FIRE SCENES, OR COVERING ACCIDENTS. BUT WE WEREN'T THE HIGHLY TRAINED STAFF OF A BIG CITY NEWSPAPER. WE WERE CITIZENS FIRST, SOME OF US HAVING LIVED HERE MOST OF OUR LIVES, WRITERS SECOND. THIS WAS OUR HOME. HER NAME WAS SUSAN MITCHELL. A CHARMING GIRL AND SHE TOOK US ALL BY THE HEART-STRINGS. WE WEREN'T AS TOUGH AS WE THOUGHT WE WERE, BECAUSE IT BROUGHT ABOUT A HARSH HEARTFELT REALITY, WE'D ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO KEEP AT A SAFE DISTANT.
     OUR NEWSPAPER OFFICE WAS A COMMUNITY DROP-IN CENTRE MOST OF THE TIME, BUT AT CHRISTMAS, IT WAS JUST NEAT TO BE A PART OF THIS SOCIAL HAPPENING. WE DIDN'T OVER ANALYZE IT. WE DID COME TO INCLUDE THESE SOCIAL MOMENTS, AS PART OF OUR OWN CHRISTMAS CELEBRATIONS, BECAUSE THE HERALD-GAZETTE IN THOSE DAYS, WAS A SMALL, INTIMATE GROUP, AND WE HUNG-OUT TOGETHER, AFTER WORK AS WELL. I LIKED THE PATINA OF THAT NEWSPAPER OFFICE. TODAY, THAT SAME BUILDING, RE-ANIMATED BACK TO THE 1980'S, COULD BE TURNED INTO A MUSEUM...... EXHIBITING WHAT AN OLD-TIME WEEKLY NEWSPAPER'S ROLE WAS, IN THE HOST COMMUNITY. I COULD BE THE GREETER. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW GREAT IT WOULD BE, TO RE-VISIT THAT HISTORICALLY HAUNTED OLD BUILDING, AND THOSE OLD CHUMS ON STAFF, DURING THE CHRISTMAS PERIOD....WHEN HAVING A CENTRAL NEWSPAPER OFFICE WAS A TRADITION TO BE RESPECTED.
     IN THE 1990'S, AFTER MOVING TO GRAVENHURST, I GOT A CHANCE TO WORK IN BOTH THE BANNER OFFICE, WHEN I WAS NEWS EDITOR, AND AT THE MUSKOKA TODAY OFFICE, ON FIRST STREET, IN THE FORMER ORANGE LODGE BUILDING, I BELIEVE. WORKING AS A COLUMNIST WITH PUBLISHERS HUGH CLAIRMONT AND SON MARK, WAS A GREAT INTRODUCTION TO LIFE IN OUR NEW TOWN.....AND AS I REMEMBER OF THE CHRISTMAS PERIOD, IT WAS ALSO A MEETING PLACE FOR READERS AND STAFF, TO TALK ABOUT, WITH GRAND REVELLRY, THOSE GOOD OLD DAYS. I PROBABLY LEARNED MORE ABOUT THE HISTORY OF GRAVENHURST, WORKING AT A DESK BETWEEN MARK AND HUGH, THAN I COULD HAVE EVER PICKED UP FROM A BOOK ONLY. THIS WAS AN ANIMATED HISTORY, AND ALTOGETHER MEMORABLE. OUR CHRISTMAS GET-TOGETHERS WERE MILESTONE EVENTS, LET ME TELL YOU....AS HUGH CLAIRMONT WAS THE HOST WITH THE MOST.....BUT WHAT AMAZING GOODWILL GENERATED FROM THAT OFFICE, ESPECIALLY DURING THE FESTIVE SEASON AND NEW YEARS. I HOLD ONTO THESE MEMORIES WITH PRIDE, THAT I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO SHARE A TRADITION, NOW REMEMBERED BY ONLY A FEW OF US SURVIVORS......WHO CAN'T QUITE GRASP YET, HOW HISTORY SLIPPED THROUGH OUR FINGERS WITHOUT US KNOWING, JUST HOW SEVERE A LOSS IT WOULD BE. WILL A COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER EVER AGAIN OPEN, AND OPERATE FROM A MAIN STREET BUSINESS LOCATION? I THINK NOT! NOW IN RETROSPECT, THESE WERE MY GOOD OLD DAYS. AND YES, I FEEL A LOT OLDER THAN MY FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS. I REALIZE HOW LUCKY I WAS, TO HAVE BEEN ABLE TO WORK WITH THESE NEWSPAPERS, AT A TIME, WHEN THEY WERE STILL A VIABLE ENTITY.

   

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