YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND FOR THE REST OF TIME

This morning I stood for a moment, or possibly two, outside the post office building, gauging the mood of the day. My breath steamed into the air and my finger-tips started to tingle despite the fact I had my mitts comfortably appointed. A cold, damp start to the day but by the legends of Canadian winters, a gentle one in a more than obliging season so far.

I was pondering, for that moment or two, out there on that well known crossroads, at Bay and Muskoka Road, all the history and change that has turned this way or that, since those early days of winding cartways through the woodlands. While it is an inevitable fact of existence..... that time waits for no man, and change, often profound, is anticipated although not always welcome, we like to anchor ourselves in the common-place of the present. There’s certainly a desire, amongst some of us mortals, to find a secure place, away from the risks of fire and storm, unfortunate events and general misadventure, which have etched and shaped our town in the past, and as within the photographer’s frame, they might well choose to remain......if they could.

When I look out onto this street scene, on this beautiful winter morning, I see a bustling, thriving, ambitious community that continues to hum along despite all the dire predictions, and all the naysayers, who fear too much and live too cautiously. I can dress this same town scene in the garb and backdrops of early 1900, or a similar day in the mid 1930's, a January Tuesday from 1963, or 1972, and find the identifiers that characterize Gravenhurst in full regalia. I can take these trundling pedestrians and cloak them in period dress, from top hats to peak caps, Hudsons Bay and Bird’s Woolen Mill coats, to Victorian finery, bustles to bonnets, fur muffs to heavy woolen mitts. Of course there are still today some pretty interesting, trans-history outfits being worn. It’s a Muskoka winter and that trumps all other considerations. One must dress to survive. One must also trundle with ambition from place to place, just as it has always been, and will carry on, as if history does surely repeat.

When we must carry on our task of living, we do so with the profound knowledge of world events. Although we are quite a distance removed from the recent shooting spree in Tucson, Arizona, we are affected by its frightening reality. We don’t have memorials set up in town, to show our deepest sympathy for our American friends, yet we all realize life’s frailties and the potential for disastrous events even within our community. How did our townsfolk react when they heard about the assassination of President Kennedy? What was being talked about when citizens first laid eyes on a parade of German Prisoners of War, marching toward this same crossroads, during the early years of the Second World War? What was the banter when readers consumed the headlines that the Stockmarket had crashed, commencing the Great Depression? How did the citizens rebound from the great fire that destroyed much of the main street architecture? How have we dealt with tragic demise of friends and community leaders, accidents and terrible occurrences that have challenged the will to carry on?

Standing out on this cold but storied cross roads, you can find the answer by simply looking about, and realizing that time waits for no one, and profound change isn’t always scheduled or predicted but is always accepted, no matter how unwillingly or unhappily. What I see, as the historian, is what we all know happens day to day in this mortal coil. While from this corner the watcher has seen a lot, and looked up and down the streets over many decades, the changes seem so much more minute and tidy than they have been in fact. It’s a citizenry that has moved on and on and on, as is the expectation of daily life. It’s only when we dwell on those snapshots the photographer dutifully provided, to capture the moment, that some feel that change has been rigorous and unforgiving.......as one ponders in the mirror day after day, first as a child wishing to age, then in elder years, feeling that the aging process has gone too far and been unkind to hair and skin.

For every historian who stands at this same crossroads, in all the decades from now to then, my presumption is that they will all be able to accommodate the rebirth, aging, and renewal with a sense of progress as it has always been......and look out upon the busy citizenry as the commonplace of community, living in their own history, and the history that makes up the provenance of this crossroads;......to be an eager witness to all the change from pioneer trail to major highway link, through economic prosperity, conflict and protest, fire and storm, winter, summer, spring and fall, to do it all again.....that as we might all pause and feel regret about the misfortune being faced by other communities and countries, we have work to do......and time is ticking.

At this same crossroads, in any given day, the watcher may see a hearse pass with a motorcade of mourners, or see a group of youngsters, hand in hand, walking with a teacher on a wee school outing. There may arrive, at this corner, two contemporaries who trade political rhetoric about the upcoming provincial election....or who ask of one another how respective families are doing. There will be discussions of the weather, future travels, interesting anecdotes and good humor. Over a day, the voyeur could compose a curious little chapter of all the history made that day, on one corner in a good old town......just as it has been since those first settlers opted to make this place look, feel and function like home.

When you appreciate that in the time it has taken to read this, your own history has been notched, a tad, and that the past is only ever a tick of the second hand from being old news,.... it should then be as natural, to look upon the work of the historian as never-ending, impossible to gather entirely, and ridiculously entertaining most of the time.

As an add-on to the previous blog, written January 10th, this is just a cap on the assessment that we all need to recognize the inherent value of our mortal legacy......that defines for me that willpower and passion built our community from a far more adverse condition, than what we face today, in the bid to revitalize......and that it is all possible, when we cherish what we do possess, to make it so much better.

Believe it or not, we historians don’t dwell in the past. We are very contemporary and quite aware of our ever-changing surroundings, and the trends weighing upon it. Our greatest chagrin, if there is one thing in particular we can agree on, is being ignored, and dismissed as having nothing worthwhile to offer. I’ve never met an historian yet, who wasn’t ready to participate, when required, to educate the willing, about the precedents of the past. We can’t promise that our involvement in current affairs will make for a better or more prosperous community economy but we might be able to offer the security and insight, a foundation in fact, that we will survive against the elements, the etchings and jostling of time and aging, to remain as a community.....as a home town. This in spite of the grumbling and predictions by the naysayers that the sky is falling.