Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Redmond Thomas Writes About The Excelsior Cup Being Won By Sawdust City; Christmas In Muskoka Part 1


CHRISTMAS IN MUSKOKA - WHERE TO BEGIN, WHERE TO BEGIN?

COMMUNITY IDENTITY? THE WAY WE BECAME MUSKOKANS, FROM PIONEER HOMESTEADERS TO DIE-HARD HOMETOWNERS - HOW ABOUT HOCKEY RIVALRY?

     THERE HAVE BEEN TIMES, EVEN QUITE RECENTLY, WHILE WORKING ON LOCAL HERITAGE PROJECTS, WHEN I HAVE PAUSED TO RE-READ THE MATERIAL I WAS CONSUMING, BECAUSE I FELT I HAD UNCOVERED SOMETHING PECULIAR ABOUT MUSKOKA HISTORY. I HAD INDEED. WHAT I HAD ASSESSED, IN THE CUMULATIVE SENSE, OVER ABOUT FIVE YEARS, WITH SOME CERTAINTY, AND A LITTLE CHAGRIN, WAS HOW WE HAVE SHORTCHANGED OURSELVES FOR A LONG, LONG TIME. OUR REGION DESERVES MORE ATTENTION FROM THE FOLKS WHO CALL THIS PLACE THEIR PERMANENT HOME. THIS ISN'T ABOUT TOURISM PROMOTION. FAR FROM IT! THIS IS ABOUT MUSKOKANS THEMSELVES, TAKING BACK WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO THEM. THE WAY IT USED TO BE. HERE'S SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT.
     I WANT TO MAKE THIS ABUNDANTLY CLEAR FROM THE START OF THIS SERIES OF CHRISTMAS-SEASON BLOGS. I AM INTERESTED IN DRAWING OUT THE MUSKOKA CHARACTER THAT HAS DIMINISHED OVER THE CENTURIES, PRETTY MUCH THE RESULT OF COMMONPLACE AND NEGLECT. IN THIS PARTICULAR CASE, THE EXCESS I'M REFERRING TO, IS THE SCOPE OF INTERNATIONAL TOURISM MARKETING, AND HOW, SINCE THE 1870'S, OUR LAKELAND HAS BEEN REPRESENTED BY THE VESTED INTEREST, IN THE FULL SPLENDOUR OF FREE ENTERPRISE; TO SELL OUR NATURAL RESOURCES, AS A VACATION, COTTAGING LUXURY. IN MOST CASES, MUSKOKANS HAVEN'T BEEN THE MAJOR PLAYERS IN THIS GLOBAL REPRESENTATION. INSTEAD, WE ARE BEING CRAFTED, SCULPTED, REFORMED AND REVISED BY SLICK MARKETING STRATEGISTS, SOME WHO HAVE NO REAL KNOWLEDGE OF OUR AREA, EXCEPT FROM WHAT THEY HAVE GARNERED FROM CURSORY EXAMINATION AND FILE FOLDERS OF PRIOR PROMOTIONS; WHAT WORKED AND WHAT DIDN'T. THERE ARE SO MANY OPINIONS ABOUT MUSKOKA OUT THERE, IT WOULD BE AWFULLY NICE, IF SOME OF THOSE IMPORTANT OVERVIEWS CAME FROM MUSKOKANS THEMSELVES. WE'VE BEEN TOLD WHAT WE REPRESENT, AS A POPULATION, AND GEOGRAPHIC REGION, FOR SO LONG, I THINK WE'VE FORGOTTEN OUR OWN VESTED INTERESTS, RIGHTS AND PRIVILEGES, TO REPRESENT OURSELVES ON THE PROVINCIAL, NATIONAL AND INTERNATIONAL SCENE. MUSKOKA HAS BEEN MARKETED TO GREAT HEIGHTS, AND ONLY A TINY PORTION, HAS HAD OUR VALUES IMPRINTED, ON EVEN ONE METRE OF ITS BEHEMOTH STATURE.
    WHILE I AM A BIG SUPPORTER OF THE TOURISM INDUSTRY, AND I KNOW HOW IMPORTANT IT HAS BEEN OVER MULTI-CENTURIES, TO OUR GENERAL WELL-BEING, IT IS STILL THE CASE, MUSKOKANS SHOULD BE MORE INVOLVED AS ITS OVERALL STEWARDS. I EVEN WORRY THESE DAYS, ABOUT WEAK TOWN COUNCILS, MADE UP OF ELECTED COUNCILLORS, WHO HAVE A WEAK GRASP OF MUSKOKA HISTORY, NOT BEING INTERESTED IN UPGRADING THEMSELVES, ON ACCOUNT OF MY BADGERING. BUT IT IS A PROBLEM OF STEWARDSHIP IN GENERAL. IF A COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE ISN'T HISTORY-MINDED, AND DOESN'T REALLY CARE ABOUT HERITAGE CONSERVATION, WE ARE ALL POORER IN THIS REGARD. IT COMES DOWN TO THE POPULATION, IN CONSIDERABLE NUMBERS, BEING CONCERNED ABOUT HERITAGE IDENTITY, IN OUR REGION, TO OVERTAKE THE SHOW; AND MAKE IT CLEAR, WE ARE CAPABLE OF AN EXPANDED STEWARDSHIP OURSELVES.
      FOR EXAMPLE, WHEN I HAVE, FOR INTEREST'S SAKE, READ BOOKS AND FEATURE ARTICLES, ON THE NEW ENGLAND STATES, ENJOYING THE TALES OF OLD CONNECTICUT, AS THOREAU SAW IT, AND NEW YORK'S REGION, OF THE HISTORIC HUDSON RIVER, AS WASHINGTON IRVING WITNESSED, I'D HAVE REASON TO PAUSE ON THE VERY REAL SITUATION OF NEGLECT, WE HAVE WITHOUT REALLY KNOWING IT, SELF IMPOSED UPON OURSELVES IN MUSKOKA. WE MUSKOKANS ARE ENTIRELY TOO MODEST, ABOUT OUR OWN SLICE OF PARADISE. WE HAVE ALLOWED THE TOURISM INDUSTRY, ALMOST FROM THE BEGINNING, TO MARKET OUR QUANTITIES AND QUALITIES, AT THEIR DISCRETION, AND FOR THEIR FINANCIAL GAIN. WE HAVE BEEN DESCRIBED, OVERVIEWED, ASSESSED, ANALYZED, INTERPRETED, AND JUDGED, BY THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF WRITERS, POETS, MUSICIANS, AND ARTISTS, AS FAR BACK AS THE EARLY SURVEYORS TO THE REGION; EVEN INCLUDING CHAMPLAIN'S OBSERVATIONS, TRAVERSING THROUGH GEORGIAN BAY. TRUTHFULLY, A SMALL PERCENTAGE OF THOSE WHO HAVE TAKEN IT UPON THEMSELVES TO DEPICT OUR REGION, FOR WHATEVER REASON OF INVESTMENT, HAVE ACTUALLY DWELLED IN MUSKOKA FOR ANY GREAT LENGTH OF TIME. WE HAVE BEEN A REGION OF GREAT ATTRACTION TO SPORTSMEN, VACATIONERS, THOSE WISHING TO BENEFIT FROM OUR HEALING ENVIRONMENT, AND COTTAGERS, AND THIS HAS BEEN MADE ABUNDANTLY CLEAR VIA THE MEDIA, SINCE THE LATER YEARS OF THE 1850'S. SO IT'S NOT LIKE WE CAN COMPLAIN, WE'VE BEEN UNDER RECOGNIZED OR POORLY PROMOTED AS A VACATION PARADISE. THE PROBLEM AS I SEE IT, IS THAT WE HAVE HAD OTHER PEOPLE, IN THESE CREATIVE DISCIPLINES, DESCRIBING WHERE WE LIVE, HOW WE LIVE, AND WHY WE ARE IMPORTANT TO THE REST OF THE WORLD, IN SUCH INCREDIBLE VOLUME, THAT IN SOME WAYS, WE'VE COME TO BELIEVE OUR ATTEMPTS TO INTERVENE, AS STEWARDS OF OUR DOMAIN, WOULD JUST BE REDUNDANT ANYWAY. AS NEW ENGLANDERS INSIST ON STEWARDSHIP OF THEIR REGION, AND PROUDLY SO, IT HAS SEEMED TO ME FOR QUITE SOME TIME, THAT WE NEED TO BORROW A FEW INITIATIVES FROM OTHER AREAS, OF THE CONTINENT, AND MAYBE BEYOND, TO RE-ESTABLISH THE RIGHT TO DEPICT OURSELVES AND OUR REGION WITHOUT OUTSIDE INTERVENTION. WHILE IT MAY NEVER HAVE SEEMED OF CRITICAL IMPORTANCE IN THE PAST, IT IS THE CASE TODAY, WHEN THERE ARE FAR TOO MANY LIBERTIES BEING TAKEN WITH OUR REGION, FOR REASONS OF PROFIT MAKING. IT'S THE REASON, IN PART, WHY I HAVE DEVELOPED A SLOW-BREWING REVISITATION TO THE ISSUE OF IDENTITY, IN A POTENTIALLY FUTILE ATTEMPT, (I ADMIT IT WILL BE HARD TO BACKTRACK) TO SEPARATE IT FROM THE HISTORICAL ABUSES, OF THE VESTED INTEREST, OF SELLING US TO THE WORLD. THE FIRST STEP, IN MY OPINION, IS TO APPRECIATE THE WORK CREATIVE ENTERPRISE IS DOING PRESENTLY, IN OUR REGION, TO MAINTAIN THIS REGIONAL CHARACTER; THE INSPIRATION FOR THEIR WORK BEING PROUDLY IMBEDDED, WHETHER IN LOCALLY INSPIRED MUSIC, POTTERY CREATIONS, PAINTINGS, SCULPTING, TEXTILE ART, WOOD TURNING, CARVING, AND IN WRITING ABOUT ITS UNIQUE LAKELAND SPIRIT. THE ARTS COMMUNITY IN MUSKOKA HAS EXPANDED SUBSTANTIALLY, OVER THE PAST QUARTER CENTURY, AND THIS STRENGTHENS THE IMAGE OF WHAT IT MEANS TO BE MUSKOKAN; HOW WE CELEBRATE AND USE THE REGION'S NATURAL RESOURCES, TO OUR GENERAL ADVANTAGE. WE HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO. IT'S NOT THAT WE HAVEN'T BEEN PROUD OF OUR REGION, JUST THAT WE HAVE LET OTHER INTERESTS SELL US, TO SUIT THEIR REQUIERMENTS, IN TERMS OF INVESTMENT VALUE. SEEMS STRANGE, BUT IT'S TRUE. THE ONLY WAY BACK, IS TO STRENGTHEN OUR RESOLVE, TO BE BETTER, AND MORE REACTIONARY STEWARDS, FOR OUR REGION; AND THEN OCCASIONALLY REBEL, AND PROTEST, WHEN WE ARE DEFINED UNFAIRLY, AND DEFINED POORLY, BY THOSE WHO HAVE NEVER LIVED HERE A DAY IN THEIR LIVES. TO SAY THAT MUSKOKA HAS BEEN EXPLOITED IS A DRAMATIC UNDERSTATEMENT. IT'S ESPECIALLY DISTURBING, TO APPRECIATE, JUST HOW MUCH OF OUR GLOBAL REPUTATION, HAS HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THE EFFORTS OF LONG-TIME MUSKOKANS, TO PROMOTE THE HOME REGION AS THEY SEE IT, IN SENSIBLE PROPORTION.
     DURING THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON SERIES, I WILL ALSO PRESENT SOME SELECT ARCHIVE MATERIAL, FROM PAST BLOGS, THAT IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, HAS TO DO WITH THE MUSKOKA IDENTITY; AND HOW MUCH OUR ENTIRE FAMILY HAS BENEFITTED, RESIDING HERE FOR SO MANY YEARS. WHILE I AM THE CITY TRANSPLANT, OF THE FAMILY, I STILL HAVE BEEN AN IMBEDDED MUSKOKAN FOR 48 YEARS. SUZANNE AND THE BOYS WERE BORN IN HUNTSVILLE AND BRACEBRIDGE RESPECTIVELY, AND MY WIFE'S ROOTS STRETCH BACK TO THE PIONEER ERE. OF ALL CONCERNS, I WOULD LIKE THIS SERIES TO BE SEEN AS A BELATED TRIBUTE TO OUR REGION, COURTESY A MUSKOKA WRITER; NOT FROM A WRITER EMPLOYED BY A MARKETING FIRM, IN THE URBAN JUNGLE, EMPLOYED TO OVERVIEW WHAT I KNOW INTIMATELY WELL.
     I LOVE BEING IN MUSKOKA AT THIS WILDLY CONTRASTING TIME OF THE YEAR; ONE MOMENT IT'S RAINING AND THE NEXT A SQUALL HAS OVERTAKEN US AS IT IS AT THIS MOMENT IN GRAVENHURST; AND MOMENTS LATER, THE SUN SHINES DOWN ON THE NEWLY FALLEN SNOW, AND LOW AND BEHOLD, IT HAS BEGUN TO WARM UP IN THE SUNGLOW. FOR MANY YEARS, I TRAVELLED WITH MY FAMILY FROM BRACEBRIDGE TO DAYTONA BEACH, FLORIDA, FOR THE WINTER MONTHS. I'VE HAD AT LEAST FIVE CHRISTMASES IN FLORIDA, AND WHILE I ENJOYED THE TRIPS, I WAS NEVER CONTENT, BEING ABSENT FROM MUSKOKA OVER THE HOLIDAY SEASON. I KNEW WHAT I WAS MISSING, AND FRANKLY, THAT COULDN'T BE COMPENSATED BY WARM WEATHER AND OCEAN-SIDE LOUNGING, COCKTAIL IN HAND. I WANTED THE CONTRASTS OF THE SEASONS, AND IT'S QUITE TRUE...AN OLD FASHIONED MUSKOKA WINTER, IS A CANADIAN WINTER, THAT IS PART OF OUR NATIONAL CULTURAL HERITAGE TO ENDURE. AND I MAY BE ONE OF VERY FEW MUSKOKANS THESE DAYS, WHO ACTUALLY LOOKS FORWARD TO THE ARRIVAL OF LATE FALL, AND WINTER IN ALL ITS GLORY. SO IT IS IN THIS REGARD, THAT I OFFER THESE HUMBLY APPOINTED, BUT HONEST PORTRAYALS OF MUSKOKA, AS SEEN THROUGH THE EYES OF MUSKOKANS, FROM A PAST ERA UP TO THE PRESENT. I'VE MADE OBSERVATIONS FROM PORTALS AND SANCTUARIES, DOTTED ALL OVER THIS REGION; EXPOSURES I'VE AFFORDED MYSELF THROUGH THE DECADES, AND THE SEASONS, SO WHEN I REMARK ABOUT THIS REGION'S UNIQUE QUALITIES, I HAVE SEEN THEM, AND STUDIED THEM INTIMATELY-CLOSE FOR LONG AND LONG.
     IN THE TIME IT HAS TAKEN TO PEN THE PARAGRAPH ABOVE, THE CALM CONDITIONS WHEN I WENT OUTSIDE, HAD EVOLVED INTO A WICKED LITTLE SNOW SQUALL, SO HEAVY I COULDN'T SEE MORE THAN A BLOCK UP THE MAIN STREET, AND THEN AS SUDDENLY AS THE SNOW CAME, THE CLOUDS PARTED AND BLUE SKY AND LATE AFTERNOON SUN, SHONE DOWN ON THE DUSTING OF SNOW FROM TWO MINUTES EARLIER. FASCINATING TWISTS AND TURNS OF LATE AUTUMN WEATHER. PEDESTRIANS ARE BUNDLED UP, WITH SCARVES, WOOLEN TOQUES AND MITTS, AND COATS TO WITHSTAND THE ARCTIC BLASTS OF A WINTER READY TO BREAK LOOSE. MOST RECOGNIZE IT AS A SORT OF TRADITIONAL INCONVENIENCE, THAT INSPIRES A LAYERING OF CLOTHING, AND CHANGES OF FOOTWEAR, IN THE EVENT OF HEAVY RAIN, ICE OR SNOW, SOME WITHIN MINUTES OF THE OTHER. IT IS NOT ENTIRELY UNPLEASANT FOR THE TRAVELLER, AND WATCHING THE YOUNGSTERS PASSING, IT WOULD APPEAR THEY'RE QUITE OPEN TO THE POSSIBILITIES OF AN EARLY WINTER, AND A SNOWY INTRODUCTION TO THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, I'M SURE THEY WILL CELEBRATE WITH VIVID IMAGINATIONS. WITH THE DARKNESS OF LATE AFTERNOON, MANY OF THE STORE SIGNS HAVE ILLUMINATED, AND MOTORISTS HAVE ALREADY ENGAGED THEIR HEADLIGHTS, TWINKLING IN SUCCESSION, COMING SOUTH, OUT OF THE DARK GREY BANK OF CLOUDS ALONG THE HORIZON. TO SOME, IT APPEARS DULL AND UNREMARKABLE, AND FROM A CASUAL GLANCE, THEY WOULD BE CORRECT IN THIS OPINION. I SUPPOSE, FOR ME, IT IS WHAT THE SEASON HERALDS, THAT GIVES ME MOST INTEREST IN WATCHING CLOSELY, HOW THE WEATHER CHANGES, AND THE WINTER SEASON IMBEDS ITSELF IN SOUTH MUSKOKA. OR WILL THIS BLUSTER END ABRUPTLY, AND AN INDIAN SUMMER RAZE OVER THE REGION WITH KINDER CONDITIONS. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN THE PROFOUND QUALITIES OF NATURE, AS I FIND MYSELF INTRIGUED, YOU WILL CREATE WAYS TO CELEBRATE THE TRADITIONS OF CANADIAN WINTER; EVEN IF THAT MEANS CURLED UP IN A QUILT AT HEARTHSIDE, WATCHING WINTER UNFOLD, WITNESSED THROUGH A PICTURE WINDOW, FROM YOUR COZY HOMESTEAD. THERE IS NO SHORTAGE OF EVENTS AND CIRCUMSTANCES TO WRITE ABOUT IN MUSKOKA, AND A DEEP WELL OF INSPIRATION FOR THOSE WITH THE PATIENCE TO LOOK MORE CLOSELY UPON WHAT HAS FOR SOME TIME BEEN OVERLOOKED AND NEGLECTED. PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION AND RE-DISCOVERY OF OUR REGION, IN WHAT IS HOPEFULLY, A CHEERFUL, FRIENDLY, PLEASING PACKAGE.
     PLEASE PULL A CHAIR UP TO THE HEARTH, AND ENJOY SOME OLD FASHIONED FUN.
    
THE HISTORIAN INTRODUCING THE OTHER HISTORY; MR. BOYER AND MR. THOMAS OF BRACEBRIDGE

     "IT IS MY BELIEF THAT A GOOD COMMUNITY SPIRIT DEPENDS TO A LARGE DEGREE, ON AN UNDERSTANDING OF HOW THE COMMUNITY DEVELOPED, AND THE KIND OF PEOPLE THAT AIDED IN PROMOTING ITS EARLIER PROGRESS." MUSKOKA HISTORIAN, ROBERT BOYER, WROTE THE PASSAGE ABOVE, AS AN INTRODUCTION TO THE REGIONAL HISTORY, "BRACEBRIDGE, MUSKOKA, REMINISICENCES," BY REDMOND THOMAS Q.C., PUBLISHED IN 1969, BY THE HERALD-GAZETTE PRESS. "THIS (THE BOOK) IS A RECORD WHICH INDICATES THE KIND OF TOWN BRACEBRIDGE WAS YEARS AGO. IN MANY WAYS THAT SMALLER COMMUNITY WAS KNIT TOGETHER MORE CLOSELY THAN IS NOW POSSIBLE." IN REGARDS TO HIS AUTHOR FRIEND, MR. BOYER WROTE, IN COMPLIMENT, "ONE EASILY ACCEPTS, THEN, THE SPECIAL QUALIFICATIONS OF MR. THOMAS, TO TAKE ON THE RESPONSIBILITIES OF THE RECOLLECTOR OF EVENTS AND DEVELOPMENTS, BELONGING TO THE YESTERDAYS IN BRACEBRIDGE. ON BEHALF OF HIS MANY READERS AND FRIENDS, IT IS MY PRIVILEGE IN THIS BRIEF FOREWORD, TO THANK HIM FOR HAVING WRITTEN HIS REMINISCENCES OF SO MANY PEOPLE, AND EVENTS, IN HIS INTERESTING MANNER." MR. BOYER SUGGESTS, "IN THE MORE SERIOUS SIDE OF LIFE, ALWAYS THE PRESENT TIME, IS ONE OF RESPONSIBILITY AND CONCERN. ALL OUR WORK AND DAILY EFFORT IS DIRECTED TO THE FUTURE. IN THAT WORK, WE ARE HELPED BY EXPERIENCE, AND KNOWLEDGE GAINED, OVER PAST YEARS. BUT WE RELY ONLY ON THOSE PARTS OF OUR EXPERIENCE, WHICH HAVE DIRECT RELATIONSHIP TO THE MATTERS IN HAND. FOR THIS REASON WE TEND TO PUT OUT OF MIND, MANY HAPPENINGS AND OBSERVATIONS OF THE LONG AGO. WHEN OCCASION ARISES IT IS PLEASING TO REMEMBER INCIDENTS AND CIRCUMSTANCES, AND TO CONNECT THEM IN SOME WAY TO CURRENT AFFAIRS; YET TOO OFTEN THE PRESSURE OF EXACTING DAILY ACTIVITY, DEPRIVES US OF THE ABILITY TO CALL BACK ALL THE DETAILS, THAT ONCE MEANT MUCH."

     IN THE WEEKS LEADING UP TO THIS CHRISTMAS-TIME SERIES OF BLOGS, NOW IN ITS FOURTH YEAR OF HOSTING WINTER-THEMED FEATURES, I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO BRING SOME NEW APPRECIATION, TO WHAT SOME WOULD CALL THE "MUSKOKA IDENTITY." OR THE "MUSKOKA CHARACTER." I'VE BEEN ANGERED MANY TIMES THIS PAST YEAR, HEARING AND READING ABOUT THE "MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE," USED BY RESORTS AND CONDOMINIUM DEVELOPERS TO PROMOTE, PRESUMABLY, LUXURIOUS LIVING IN THE ONTARIO LAKELAND. IT GOT ME QUESTIONING WHAT THE TRUE "MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE" IS, WHEN ITS HISTORIC REALITIES ARE FACTORED IN TO THE OVERVIEW. IT'S ONE OF THE REASONS I WROTE A LENGTHY SERIES, EARLIER THIS FALL, ABOUT THE HOMESTEADING PERIOD IN MUSKOKA, DATING BACK TO THE LATE 1850'S. IF I WAS GOING TO UNDERSTAND THE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE ISSUE, IT HAD TO BE HISTORICALLY SCULPTED OR IT WOULDN'T HAVE ANY LEGACY VALUE. IT WAS ONLY A SHORT SERIES, OVER A COUPLE OF WEEKS, BUT I RE-EDUCATED MYSELF, ABOUT JUST HOW INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT IT WAS, TO SURVIVE ON THIS DIFFICULT TOPOGRAPHY, WITH ITS MILES OF WATER, BOG, FORESTS, HILLS AND ROCK. OUT OF THIS MINOR FORAY INTO PIONEER HISTORY, I BECAME INTERESTED IN THE FOLK HISTORY OF OUR REGION, AS HERALDED BY SUCH WRITERS AS BERT SHEA OF THE HAMLET OF UFFORD, IN THE PRESENT TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES, AND REDMOND THOMAS, THE SOURCE OF TODAY'S STORY. THESE CAPABLE WRITERS, ON THE FOLK SIDE OF HISTORY REPORTING, SMOOTHED OUT THE RATHER CRUDE SCULPTING OF MY HISTORY REVITALIZATION. AT TIMES I'D GET MAD, THAT OUR HERITAGE AND COMMUNITY BUILDING, COULD BE SUMMED UP, BY THE PROMOTIONAL GENERALIZATION, OF COMING TO OUR REGION FOR "THE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE." I FIND LIBERALITIES LIKE THIS INCREASING IN OUR DISTRICT, AND FAR TOO MANY OF OUR ELECTED OFFICIALS ARE NOT THE FULL, RESPONSIBLE STEWARDS OF OUR HERITAGE, AS ONE WOULD HOPE, BEING UNDER THEIR CONTROL. I EAGERLY WANTED TO RISE ABOVE WHAT CONTEMPORARY ISSUES HAVE CLOUDED, OF OUR UNIQUE SOCIAL / CULTURAL IDENTITY AS MUSKOKANS. I AM PRETTY MUCH ON MY OWN, FOR THIS PROJECT, AS FEW OTHER HISTORIANS FIND IT NECESSARY TO RE-ENFORCE WHAT IS ALREADY SECURE. WHAT THIS MEANS, IS THAT THEY FEEL SECURE WE HAVE A VAST MUSKOKA COLLECTION OF HISTORIES, IN THE REFERENCE COLLECTIONS OF OUR LOCAL LIBRARIES. THUS, THE PROBLEM IN A NUTSHELL. MOST FOLKS DON'T USE THESE BOOKS, EXCEPT TO RESEARCH FAMILY HISTORY, AND SPECIFICS ABOUT LOCAL HERITAGE BUILDINGS FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES. OCCASIONALLY THEY WILL BE USED BY THE SAME HISTORIANS, WHO HAVE WRITTEN OTHER REGIONAL TEXTS; BUT IF WE WERE TO LOOK AT APPEAL TO THE MASSES, IT DOESN'T EXIST IN ANY GREAT OR INCREASING NUMBER. IF THAT IS OUR LAST AND MOST SECURE LINE OF DEFENCE, TO MAINTAIN OUR HISTORICAL CHARACTER IN PERPETUITY, WE HAVE BEEN FLANKED, AND BADLY SO, BY THE MODERNISTS, WHO SIMPLY DON'T CARE WHAT CAME FIRST, SECOND OR THIRD. THE IN-THE-NOW GROUP, COMES UP WITH REFERENCE TO THINGS LIKE "MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE," WITHOUT ANY REGARD FOR ANYTHING BEYOND "THE IMMEDIATE". THEY'VE GOT THE FINANCIAL RESOURCES TO MAKE THEIR OWN HISTORY, AND THERE ARE MANY MORE OVERVIEWS, COMING DOWN THE PIKE, THAT LONG-TIME MUSKOKANS WILL FIND OFFENSIVE. SO THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON COLLECTION OF STORIES, FROM A WIDE VARIETY OF SOURCES, IS ALL ABOUT MUSKOKA AND ITS IDENTITY, THAT BY GOLLY, WE SHOULD BE ENORMOUSLY PROUD TO HAVE ATTAINED IN THE FIRST PLACE. IT IS UP TO US, YOU SEE, AS THE REAL STEWARDS OF MUSKOKA HISTORY, TO REACT TO THESE LIBERAL INTERPRETATIONS, AND REMIND THE SHORT-ON-HISTORY MODERNISTS, THAT THEY NEED TO SHOW MORE RESPECT FOR THE TRUE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE, WHICH BEGAN WITH DEEP FURROWS BETWEEN THE ROCKS AND STUMPS, ON THOSE FIRST PIONEER HOMESTEADS.
     TO BEGIN THIS CHRISTMAS SERIES, I FOUND A COLUMN, FROM THE NOVEMBER 9TH ISSUES OF THE BRACEBRIDGE HERALD-GAZETTE, WRITTEN BY REDMOND THOMAS, (SON OF BRACEBRIDGE GAZETTE PUBLISHER, G.H.O. THOMAS), THAT CLEARLY DEMONSTRATES THE RUGGED CHARACTER OF EARLY MUSKOKANS AND THEIR RECREATIONS. I HAVE ALWAYS ADMIRED THE WORK OF REDMOND THOMAS, AND ESPECIALLY HIS STORIES ABOUT THE OLD DAYS OF HOCKEY; AND THOSE FAMOUS COMPETITIONS BETWEEN THE TOWNS OF BRACEBRIDGE AND GRAVENHURST. YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE A HOCKEY FAN, TO APPRECIATE THIS STORY. THE STORY TO ME, PAINTS A PRETTY CLEAR PICTURE OF THE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE, WE MUSKOKANS HAVE COME TO APPRECIATE OF OUR FAMILYS' LEGACY. NOW IN THE WORDS OF THE STORY SPINNER, MR. THOMAS.

EXCELSIOR CUP DAYS - THE LEGENDARY RIVALRY BETWEEN THE TOWNS

     "People get real tingling thrills from the matches for the paragon of hockey trophies. 'The Cup,' usually called for short; 'The Excelsior Cup'. The silverware was put up (or by his company through the influence of) the late Harry Linney, of The Excelsior Life Insurance Company, who was a prominent Bracebridge citizen, of whom I have kind memories. It was a challenge cup open to teams of Intermediate type in the Districts of Muskoka, Parry Sound, and Nipissing, and was first played for, in the winter of 1904-1905. Any club which could win the cup three times, would own it, and eventually it became the property of the Parry Sound Club.
     "As my father was very fond of sports, I went to hockey matches about as soon as I started school. Well, do I remember the thrill of anticipation with which, when I was a young school-boy, I pored over a bill, which said: 'The boys from The Sawdust City, will be here to try and lift The Excelsior Cup. Come and cheer the home team to victory! Admission, gents, twenty-five cents, Ladies twenty cents, children, fifteen cents.' Note that ladies were accorded real gallantry then. And bear in mind that the admission prices were set in the days when five cents would buy a loaf of bread, or a quart of milk, and twenty-five cents would pay for a full course meal at a hotel. And mark how Gravenhurst's pioneer nickname had lingered into the early part of the 20th century."
     Redmond Thomas records, that "The rink in every town was wooden and had natural ice, of which the area was small by present day standards. The Bracebridge one (called originally Jubilee Rink, and later Palace Rink), stood on the east bank of the Muskoka River just north of the Hunt's Hill bridge, and across the riveR from the present railroad station, then belonging to the Grand Trunk Railway. A team consisted of seven players, namely goal-keeper, two defencemen and four forwards. The defencemen were called point and cover point, and the later lined up a little ahead of his partner, but as soon as the game got under way, the pair usually played side by side, or nearly so. The forwards were the same, three, as at present, plus one called the 'rover,'who at the face-off, stood back of the centreman. If any player was forced to retire because of injury, the sides were equalized by the opposing team, laying off whatever man they chose. Though every club had some spares, they were merely to assure having a complete line-up, and never to substitute during the game. The referees had a big handbell which he held by the clapper when not being rung.
     "A game was two halves of thirty minutes each, separated by a ten minute interval called 'half time.' The ice was not bedizened by lines or circles of any color or kind. No forward pass (no matter how short) or kicking the puck was ever allowed anywhere. The goal-keeper had to remain on his skates at all times, and thus was prohibited from kneeling or sprawling. His pads were just leg-guards, and a rather meagre body-protector. His stick had a blade barely twice the width of that of any other player. Those days of small ice, seven man teams and no forward pass, were the heyday of stick-handling. A goal was wedge-shape and without any top such as now forms a sort of roof, and the cordage was taut. Often the puck rebounded from the net. The goal umpire, stood on the ice behind the net and indicated a goal by raising his hand. Later he had a small flag to hold up."
     "A player's uniform included a turtle-neck sweater, long stockings, and a toque, all being of heavy wool and in the club colors; and plain white knee-length pants. His sweater bore the town initials on the front but no number anywhere. From the top of the toque there hung by a cord, a big tassel. Later the tassel was smaller and attached directly to the top of the toque. Unless he was the goal-keeper, he had no pads except a piece of harness-felt inside, the front of each stocking. Skates were bigger and heavier because the tube skates had not (yet) been invented. Bracebridge town colors were then purple and white for hockey, although black and white for lacrosse. Everything about hockey was still the same when I played it, on a Bracebridge High School team, in the Palace Rink. The B.H.S. colors were read and white. Most of the fans," recalled, Redmond Thomas, "wore on their overcoats long ribbons in their town colors. Many of them brought along horns made of tin or cardboard. At half-time there was singing, and every town had its own song consisting of words sung to some well-known tune. The present practice of some professional hockey players remodelling their sticks (curving them), is nothing new. Away back in Excelsior Cup days, one of the Bracebridge players contrived a magic stick. It was uncanny how he could fish the puck out of a scrimmage. Some how he had managed to embed a nail in the blade of the stick near its tip in such a manner, that a little of the point stuck out of the bottom of the blade, and then he had a way, as to conceal the remodelling from every sort of painstaking inspection. This skulduggery was greatly facilitated by the fact that sticks were so sturdy then, that in most games, not even one of them broke. But if one did break, the referee stopped the play until the stick was replaced."
     Mr. Thomas writes, "There was such great interest in Excelsior Cup hockey that (in those days before automobiles were owned in Muskoka) a special train on the Grand Trunk Railway was a commonplace for a game. Rivalry among the towns with competing teams was intense. In particular one game between Gravenhurst and Bracebridge resulted in very deep bitterness in our fine sister town. The next day, following the arrival here of the northbound afternoon mail train, the old Canadian Express Company, delivered to the president of the Bracebridge Hockey Club, a shipment from Gravenhurst which had no wrapping on it. It was a chamber pot such as to reposed in countless bedrooms in those days, when bathrooms were much rarer than at present. It was a metal one and emblazoned on it was 'The Excelsior Mug'."
     One might assume the team from "Sawdust City," otherwise known as Gravenhurst, won that year's Excelsior Cup. No details on if there were any surprises in the chamber pot as an added award.

Christmas From The Archives



BRACEBRIDGE ONCE UPON A TIME - WHEN I VISITED ALL THE SPECIAL PLACES - I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE

     WE LIVED IN AN APARTMENT, THAT WAS MORE OF A COMMUNE, UP ON HUNT'S HILL'S "ALICE STREET," A COUPLE OF BLOCKS EAST OF BRACEBRIDGE'S MAIN STREET, AND BUSINESS SECTION. I WROTE A BOOK ABOUT IT, BACK AT THE TURN OF THIS PRESENT CENTURY, AND MADE IT A CHRISTMAS-THEMED PUBLICATION, LARGELY AIMED AT MY OLD MATES, WHO KEPT ME ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW FOR A LOT OF YEARS. I HAD ENOUGH "DEVIL IN ME," ACCORDING TO MY MOTHER, MERLE, THAT I COULD HAVE EASILY FOUND MYSELF ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE LAW. FOR THE GOOD OF HUMANITY, I WAS KEPT, AT MY WORSE, ON THE WRONG SIDE OF MOST OF OUR NEIGHBORS INSTEAD. THEY ALL KNEW ME AS "THAT LITTLE BUGGER CURRIE." IF I'D WORN A SHERIFF'S BADGE, IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD OF BLUE COLLAR WORKERS, IT WOULD HAVE READ, "JUSTICE FOR ME, TO HELL WITH YOU!" I DIDN'T SAY I WAS A NICE KID. I BECAME BENEVOLENT OF HEART, WHEN I WAS FORCED TO REKINDLE MY PAST MISADVENTURES, FOR THE BOOK I MENTIONED. "GOSH, I WAS A LITTLE DINK, WASN'T I?" SUZANNE RESPONDED, "WELL FROM WHAT YOU MOTHER TOLD ME.....YES YOU WERE."
    I WAS A LOUD-MOUTHED KID WHO TRESPASSED EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY YOUNG LIFE. ONE MOMENT, I'D BE ON YOUR FRONT LAWN, EYEING THE GARDEN GNOME, TO ADD TO MY COLLECTION OF ILL-GOTTEN ORNAMENTS, AND IN A SPLIT SECOND, I'D BE SWIPING SOME GREEN TOMATOES FROM THE BACK GARDEN. WE DIDN'T OWN A BACK GARDEN. I WASN'T BOLD AND AGGRESSIVE, BUT I WAS, LIKE HOUDINI, ABLE TO ESCAPE TIGHT SITUATIONS.....WITH GARDEN GNOMES UNDER MY ARMS....AS WELL AS FRESH PRODUCE.
   I WAS QUICK ON MY FEET, AND I KNEW HOW TO DISGUISE MYSELF IN TALL GRASS, AND CORN STALKS, TO LOOK PLANT-LIKE, TO EVADE CAPTURE. SO I'M JUST REFERENCING, THAT WHEN I WRITE ABOUT MY YOUTH GROWING UP IN BRACEBRIDGE, IT HAS A SHARP EDGE OF HONESTY. I MEAN, I'M FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD. I'M NOT REALLY WORRIED ABOUT BEING TRUTHFUL REGARDING MY OFFENCES, BECAUSE MOST OF THE FOLKS WHO WERE THE RECIPIENTS, ARE LONG DECEASED. I'M NOT MAKING LIGHT OF THIS, BUT THE REALITY I ONCE STOLE A COOLING PIE OFF A WINDOW LEDGE, AND BROUGHT HOME-GARDEN FRESH PRODUCE, TO MY MOTHER FOR DINNER, (HARVESTED FROM A NEIGHBOR WHO DIDN'T OFFER IT), IS HARDLY THE STUFF INKED ONTO A POLICE BLOTTER. I WAS MORE LIKE DENNIS THE MENACE, FOR WHAT ANNOYANCES I CAUSED, IN MY YOUTHFUL VIGOR TO EXPLORE AND EXPLOIT. I APOLOGISE TO ANYONE STILL ALIVE, WHO HAD TO LIVE IN THE SAME TOWN AS A KID LIKE ME. SO I'M FEELING A LITTLE SENTIMENTAL ABOUT IT ALL, ESPECIALLY NOW THAT IT'S CHRISTMAS. I ALWAYS ADORED DECEMBER IN BRACEBRIDGE. SOME OF THE FUN WAS PRETTY INNOCENT. OTHER EVENTS, LIKE ENCOURAGING OUR CHUM TO STICK HIS TONGUE ON THE IRON RAILING OF THE HUNT'S HILL BRIDGE, ON A BITTERLY COLD WINTER MORNING, WAS JUST PLAIN WRONG.     KICKING HIM IN THE ARSE, AND TRYING TO DROP HIS TROUSERS WHILE HE WAS FROZEN TO THE RAILING, WASN'T VERY NICE EITHER. WE WERE REMINDED OF HOW CRUEL WE HAD BEEN, EVERY TIME WE CROSSED THE BRIDGE THEREAFTER, AND SAW WHERE A PATCH OF GREEN PAINT WAS MISSING, TONGUE SIZE, ON THE WAIST-HIGH, EAST TO WEST SPAN OF METAL-WORK. I THINK TOWN OFFICIALS LEFT IT UNPAINTED, JUST TO KEEP REMINDING US LITTLE BUGGERS, OF THE PAIN AND SUFFERING OUR PRANKS CAUSED UNSUSPECTING VICTIMS. I COULD STILL POINT OUT ALMOST THE EXACT SPOT, WHERE THAT TONGUE-TIP WAS GLUED THAT DAY, AND BY GOLLY, I WOULD HAVE ONLY BEEN IN GRADE EIGHT AT BRACEBRIDGE PUBLIC SCHOOL. I WAS JUST GETTING STARTED AS A PAIN IN THE ASS BY THAT POINT.
     IN THE WINTER MONTHS, ON FREE DAYS AND NIGHTS, I COULD BE FOUND, IN ONE OF THREE PLACES. AT THE BRACEBRIDGE ARENA, PLAYING OR WATCHING HOCKEY (BEING A RINK RAT FOR MANAGER DOUG SMITH), IN THE MIDDLE OF A GAME OF ROAD HOCKEY WITH CHUMS UP ON ALICE STREET, OR IN MY BEDROOM WITH A MATE, PLAYING TABLE-TOP HOCKEY FOR THE TINY STANLEY CUP TROPHY, I MADE OUT OF CIGARETTE FOILS FROM MY PARENTS' PACKS....WHICH WERE ABUNDANT IN OUR HOUSEHOLD. I WAS A RINK RAT AT THE ARENA, A LOT OF THE TIME, AND FOR HELPING SHOVEL THE ICE FOR DOUG, AND HIS ASSISTANT, FRED "BING" CROSBY, WE'D GET A HOTDOG AND POP. I COULD STAY AT THE ARENA MOST OF A TYPICAL WINTER SEASON SATURDAY, AND BE FED WELL FOR WORK RENDERED. OH SURE, MIXED IN WITH THAT, BING AND DOUG WOULD HAVE YELLED AT US A DOZEN OR SO TIMES, BECAUSE OF THE WAY WE USED THE OLD ARENA AS OUR PLAYGROUND. WITH BROKEN "SLIVER STICKS," WE'D GET A GAME OF SHINNY (WEARING SHOES) GOING, IN THE OPEN AREA OF THE ENTRANCE-WAY, TO THE BLEACHERS, USING THE FRAME OF THE METAL FIRE DOORS AS THE NET. IT WAS OKAY UNTIL SOMEONE OPENED THE DOOR, FROM THE OTHER SIDE, AND GOT HIT FROM A SLAPSHOT, WITH AN OLD BATTLE-TORN PUCK, WE'D FOUND IN THE STANDS. GOD FORBID IT WAS DOUG OR BING WALKING THROUGH THOSE DOORS. WE MIGHT EVEN LOSE OUR RINK RAT PRIVILEGES IF WE GOT CAUGHT. AND WE USUALLY DID, BECAUSE THE PUCK HITTING THE DOOR MADE A HUGE BANG, YOU COULD HEAR DOWN IN THE LOBBY. WE DID DOWN-GRADE OUR PLAY, WHEN WE BEGAN USING SCRUNCHED UP POP CANS AND WADS OF FRICTION-TAPE, OFF OLD STICKS, AS MAKESHIFT PUCKS. ONCE AGAIN, WE WERE IN GOOD SHAPE, UNLESS THE PERSON COMING THROUGH THE DOOR, GOT SPOOKED AND DROPPED THEIR TRAY OF COLD DRINKS, IN PREPARATION FOR THE GAME UPCOMING. IT DID HAPPEN, AND WE SCATTERED LIKE THE GOOD RATS WE WERE.
     WE HAD SO MANY LEGENDARY ROAD HOCKEY GAMES, UP ON ALICE STREET, THERE SHOULD BE A HALL OF FAME DEVOTED TO IT SOLELY. RANDY CARSWELL PLAYED THE ROLE OF PLAYER-COMMENTATOR.....THE FOSTER HEWITT VOICE-OVER, FOR ALL THE ACTION. WE HAD MATES LIKE JIM NIVEN, RICK HILLMAN, DON CLEMENT, LARRY TOUGAS, THE SMITH BROTHERS, MONTY AND ROD, AND ANYBODY ELSE WHO HAPPENED TO BE FOOTLOOSE AND HOCKEY SAVVY. THAT STRETCH OF ICE-COVERED ASPHALT, WAS OUR MAPLE LEAF GARDENS, AND FOR EACH GAME, RANDY GAVE US THE TEAMS WE WOULD MIMIC, RIGHT DOWN TO THE KEY PLAYERS ON EACH TEAM. THE LEAFS WERE ALWAYS THE HOME TEAM. FOR MOST OF THOSE YEARS WE HAD TRADITIONAL GOAL POSTS. TWO BIG LUMPS OF SNOW. NOTHING FANCY LIKE METAL NETS. I DID GET TWO NETS FOR CHRISTMAS, THE FIRST ONE BEING DESTROYED BY NEW YEARS EVE. A FROZEN TENNIS BALL COULD BULGE THROUGH THE MESH EASILY, AND IF WE USED THE SOFT RUBBER PUCKS, AS SOON AS THEY GOT WET AND FROZE, THEY'D RIP THE STRING RIGHT OUT OF THE METAL FRAME WITH THE ADDED WEIGHT. YOU DIDN'T NEED AN OFFICIAL HOCKEY PUCK TO DESTROY A ROAD HOCKEY NET. GETTING ONE OF THESE DRIFTING, FROZEN PROJECTILES, IN THE GROIN AREA, WAS THE WORSE-CASE-SCENARIO, AND IT BROUGHT A LOT OF US TOUGH HOCKEYISTS TO THEIR KNEES....IN TEARS.
     IT MUST HAVE BEEN QUITE A SIGHT BACK THEN, TO LOOK OUT THE APARTMENT WINDOWS, AND SEE THE SNOWY-ROAD VERSION, OF HOCKEY NIGHT IN CANADA. LONG AFTER THE FINAL BUZZER FOR THOSE EVENING GAMES, I'D BE OUT UNDER THE LAMPLIGHT, IN THE SNOWFLURRIES, SLAPPING THE BALL OR PUCK UP AND DOWN THE ROAD, CALLING THE PLAY BY PLAY FOR MY OWN BENEFIT, AS I SCORED ON YET ANOTHER AMAZING BREAKAWAY. IF THERE WERE A COUPLE OF STRAGGLERS, AFTER THE GAME, MERLE WOULD LET ME BRING THEM UPSTAIRS FOR SOME HOT CHOCOLATE, TO PLAY MY FAVORITE MUNRO TABLE TOP HOCKEY GAME; WHEN THE BEST OF THE PHYSICAL PLAYERS ON THE ICE, OR ROADWAY, WEREN'T NECESSARILY THE BEST WITH PLAYER RODS, AND TIN MEN. RANDY CARSWELL DIDN'T HAVE THE PHYSICAL PROWESS TO BE A GREAT ROAD HOCKEY STAR, BUT WHEN HE TOOK OVER ONE END OF A TABLE TOP GAME, HE WAS A MASTERFUL FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH. IT WAS HARD TO BEAT HIM, AND IT TOOK ME YEARS TO FIGURE OUT HIS STRATEGY. HIS WINNING COMBINATION, WAS THE FAMOUS "BOBBY ORR TO PHIL ESPISITO PLAY," TO THE FRONT OF THE NET. ALL OUR PLAYERS HAD NAMES WRITTEN ON THEM, AND I HAPPENED TO OWN ALL THE ORIGINAL SIX TEAMS, AND THE FIRST EXPANSION CLUBS. BY THE WAY, I DIDN'T USE MY NEAR-LEGENDARY EXPLOITS AS A TABLE-TOP HOCKEY STAR, OR ROAD HOCKEY ACE, OR RINK RAT HANGER-ON, TO IMPRESS THE YOUNG LADIES. I FOUND VERY LITTLE FROM YOUTHFUL ADVENTURES, TO USE AS A GOOD REASON TO DATE A GUY LIKE ME. I WAS A DECENT GOALTENDER IN MY EARLY YEARS OF MINOR HOCKEY, BUT I WAS ONLY A BACK-UP ON THE "ALLSTAR TEAMS," THAT TRAVELLED OUTSIDE THE REGION TO PLAY. I BECAME KNOWN AS "THE KID WHO BACKS-UP TIM MORRISON," WHO WAS THE STARTING NETMINDER IN MOST GAMES, DURING THOSE YEARS. I WAS GOOD WITH THAT. I WAS ON THE WINNING CLUB AT LEAST, AND HE TOOK ALL THE RUBBER SLAPPED AT HIM, FROM ALL PARTS OF THE ICE-SURFACE. HE WORE THE WELTS THAT CAME WITH BEING IN THE FRONT-LINE. I LOOKED LIKE I'D JUST COME OUT OF A SPA FOR BACK-UP GOALIES. THE BIGGEST RISK I HAD, WAS GETTING A SLIVER FROM THE PINE I WAS RIDING, OR TOPPLING OUT OF THE PLAYERS' BOX, WHILE CHEERING AFTER ONE OF OUR GOALS.
     I LOVED THE WAY BRACEBRIDGE LOOKED AFTER A MAJOR SNOWFALL. FIRST THING IN THE MORNING, I'D ARRIVE AT THE TOP OF HUNT'S HILL, ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL, AND VIEW THE MOST PICTURESQUE SCENE, AT LEAST IN MY LIMITED VIEW OF THE WORLD BACK THEN. THE BACKS OF THE OLD MANITOBA STREET COMMERCIAL BLOCKS, THE PATTERSON HOTEL AT THE THOMAS STREET INTERSECTION, AND THE CHEERFUL CLOCK TOWER, OF THE OLD FEDERAL BUILDING, IN FRONT OF THE DISTANT TOWER OF THE FIRE HALL, CONNECTED TO TOWN HALL, LOOKED SO ROCKWELLIAN, ADORNED IN THE PAST EVENING'S SNOWFALL. THEN THERE WAS THE BLACK SERPENTINE FLOW OF THE DEEP MUSKOKA RIVER, ABOVE THE CATARACT, AND THE GLISTENING RAILS OF THE TRAIN TRACKS, CROSSING THE SCENE NORTH TO SOUTH. THE SNOW-LADEN TRAIN STATION WAS RIGHT OFF A CHRISTMAS CARD, AND EVEN A YOUNG LAD COULD THINK IN SUCH SENTIMENTAL AND NOSTALGIC TERMS. EVEN AS A WEE LAD I WAS SENDING CHRISTMAS CARDS TO MY FAVORITE TEACHERS AND GIRLS I WANTED AS CLOSE FRIENDS. SO I KNEW A PRETTY PICTURE WHEN I SAW ONE.
     IN LATER YEARS, I WOULD ALWAYS FIND THOSE MEMORIES OF CHRISTMASES PAST, REKINDLED AGAIN, WHEN I'D SET OUT TO WRITE NEWSPAPER COLUMNS, ESPECIALLY IN MY YEARS ASSOCIATED WITH THE MUSKOKA ADVANCE, WHICH CARRIED A COLUMN I ENTITLED "SKETCHES OF HISTORIC BRACEBRIDGE." WHEN I STARTED TO REMINISCE MORE PERSONALLY, WITH LOTS OF RISQUE ANECDOTES, I DROPPED THE "HISTORIC" PART FROM THE TITLE, TO PACIFY THE HARDCORE READERS WHO WANTED FACT WITHOUT ITS STRANGE AND COMPROMISING FICTIONS. I HAD MORE FUN WITH PERSONAL REMINISCES ANYWAY. WHEN I BEGAN WRITING ABOUT THE OLD LANDMARKS, AS I HAD KNOWN AND APPRECIATED THEM AS A KID, I FOUND A LOT OF KINDRED SPIRITS, WHO FELT I HAD REPRESENTED THEIR EMOTIONS AND RECOLLECTIONS ALMOST PERFECTLY. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT RELATED TO THE VISUALS OF OUR TOWN, AND THE CHARACTERS WHO INFILLED IT WITH EMOTION AND ADVENTURE. WE HAD OUR SHARE, THAT'S FOR SURE.
     THE OTHER DAY, I WAS LOOKING THROUGH AN OLD WOODEN BOX, I KEEP BY MY DESK, AND I FOUND A COPY OF A LETTER I HADN'T SEEN FOR YEARS. IT WAS SENT TO ME BY BOB BURTON, WHO ONCE OWNED THE FEDERAL BUILDING, AND THE GLORIOUS CLOCK TOWER WITH ITS FOUR ILLUMINATED FACES. THE LETTER WAS A THANK-YOU FOR A COLUMN I WROTE, IN THE MUSKOKA ADVANCE, ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF THAT ICONIC CLOCK TOWER, I HAD SEEN EVERY DAY, SOME TIMES NUMEROUS TIMES, EACH MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT; DURING THE PERIOD I HAD LIVED IN THE URBAN AREA OF BRACEBRIDGE (FROM MY ARRIVAL BACK IN 1966). THE STORY GAVE A PROFILE OF THE CLOCK TOWER MOST HAD NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT, BUT RECOGNIZED AS FACT, ONCE THEY READ IT. IT WAS PART OF THE CULTURE OF GROWING UP IN BRACEBRIDGE, TO BE AWARE OF THE CLOCK. IT WAS TOO BIG TO AVOID, OR IGNORE. WHEN I WAS A KID, I NEEDED IT TO TELL ME THE TIME OF DAY, BECAUSE I KEPT LOSING MY WATCHES. MERLE WOULD TELL ME THE TIME OF DAY I WAS TO BE HOME FOR DINNER, AND GOD FORBID I WAS LATE. SO I WATCHED THE TOWER. IN ALL KINDS OF SITUATIONS, THAT CLOCK WAS MY BEACON. IF I WAS SAD, IT MADE ME SMILE. IF I WAS LOVE-LOST, IT SEEMED A GOOD CHUM AMIDST DESPAIR. I CAN REMEMBER COMING HOME, FROM A GIRLFRIEND'S HOUSE ON LIDDARD STREET, AND BEING QUITE LOST IN A VICIOUS SNOWSTORM, AS I WALKED ALONG THE RAILS TOWARD THE TRAIN STATION. IT WAS A BITTER WIND, AND THE GOING WAS VERY SLOW. THROUGH THE BLOWING SNOW, I COULD CLEARLY SEE THE SOFT ILLUMINATION OF THE CLOCK FACE, HIGH ABOVE THE SNOWSCAPE, AS MY GUIDING LIGHT. I CAN REMEMBER LOOKING AT THE CLOCK TOWER SHORTLY AFTER ANDREW WAS BORN, AS I WAS DRIVING HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL, AND THE SAME OCCURRED AFTER ROBERT ARRIVED. FOR WHATEVER REASON, I'D CATCH A GLIMPSE OF ONE OF THOSE ILLUMINATED DIALS, AS IF IT WAS IMPOSED UPON ME BY THE SPIRIT KIND. I ALSO MADE A POINT OF RECKONING WITH THE CLOCK TOWER, ON THE DAY MY MOTHER PASSED AWAY AND THEN AGAIN, WHEN MY FATHER ED, PASSED AWAY, SEVERAL CHRISTMASES AGO. MAYBE I HALF EXPECTED TIME TO FREEZE AT THAT MOMENT; PRESERVING MY CHRONICLE. I HAVE LONG FOUND SOLACE IN THAT OLD RELIC OF EARLY 1900'S ARCHITECTURE, THAT SEEMED TO BE WATCHING ME, AS I LOOKED BACK UPON IT! IT ALWAYS APPEARED STORIED AND PROFOUND, LIKE THE FICTIONAL REFERENCE IN THE BOOK, "THE GREAT GATSBY", TO THE GIANT BILLBOARD WITH THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR EYEGLASSES, WHICH BECAME KNOWN AS THE HAUNTING "EYES OF ECKLEBURG." THOSE ILLUMINATED CLOCK DIALS GREETED ME A MILLION TIMES. THEY WERE THE FRIENDLY EYES OF MY HOMETOWN. THEY WERE THE EYES OF GOODWILL AND CHARITY, AT CHRISTMAS, AND THE PORTALS TO ADVENTURE, ON NEW YEARS EVE. BUT IT WAS JUST A CLOCK TOWER. LIKE A THOUSAND OTHER CLOCK TOWERS. EXCEPT THIS WAS THE CLOCK TOWER I NEEDED AS A BEACON. IT DIDN'T JUDGE ME. IT DIDN'T RULE ON MY OFFENSES. YET WITH ITS SOFT GLOW, IT SEEMED TO HAVE SENSITIVITY TO CHARACTERS LIKE ME....AS IF I WAS THE STRANGE FICTION AMIDST COLD REALITIES OF LIFE AND TIMES. MY GUARDIAN OF SORTS. WE MADE EYE CONTACT DAILY. IT KNEW WHEN I WAS SKIPPING SCHOOL, BECAUSE IT FOLLOWED MY TRAIL INTO THE NOOKS AND CRANNIES I USED TO HIDE-OUT. IT KNEW, BUT REMAINED NEUTRAL, WHEN I OCCASIONALLY TOOK THE WARM, FRAGILE HAND, OF A YOUNG LADY, WHILE DATING ANOTHER. I KNOW IT WAS COMMUNICATING WITH ME THEN, BECAUSE I FELT GUILTY LOOKING UP......REMINDING MY CONSCIENCE OF THE LATEST INDISCRETION.
     WHEN MY PARENTS ARRIVED IN BRACEBRIDGE, FROM THE CITY, THEY DIDN'T THINK THEY WOULD BE STAYING FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES. EVEN WHEN THEY HAD THE CHANCE TO MOVE, TO BE CLOSER TO FAMILY, THEY OPTED TO REMAIN ANCHORED TO THE TOWN THEY CALLED "SLEEPY HOLLOW." THEY SPENT THEIR FINAL YEARS LIVING HAPPILY AT THE BASS ROCK APARTMENTS, ONLY SEVERAL BLOCKS FROM THE ALICE STREET APARTMENTS, WHERE THEY BEGAN THIS HOMETOWN EXPERIENCE. THEY LIKED TO LOOK OUT AT THE SILENT, DARK FLOW, OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER, AND ENJOY ALL THE WILDLIFE DRAWN TO ITS SHORELINE. THEY COULD HEAR THE TOLL OF THE CLOCK TOWER BELL, ON THE HOUR, AND THE BLARING HORN OF THE PASSENGER AND FREIGHT TRAINS, THAT PASSED BEHIND THE BUILDING.....ON THE SAME LENGTH OF SILVER RAILS I USED TO WALK ALMOST DAILY IN MY YOUTH. THEY WERE CONTENTED, YOU SEE, WITH ALL THE MEMORIES THEY HAD ACCUMULATED, AND ALL THE FRIENDS THEY HAD MADE.....IN WHAT WAS TO BE A SHORT TERM RESIDENCY; BUT LASTED MOST OF A LIFETIME.
     THIS SERIES OF CHRISTMAS SEASON COLUMNS, (BLOGS), IS DEDICATED TO SOME OF MY OLD SCHOOL MATES, AND CLOSE FRIENDS, WHO MA DE MY EARLY LIFE EXPERIENCES SO PRECIOUS TO ME TODAY. I'D LIKE TO SHARE SOME OF THESE RECOLLECTIONS IN THE SPIRIT OF THE CHRISTMAS SEASON.
MORE TO COME DAILY UP TO AND INCLUDING NEW YEARS DAY.

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