Hunting in the Swamp for History

A NICE TRIP - SLIPPERY ROADS, BUT PRETTY AS A PICTURE

NOT TOO MANY TREASURES - BUT NETWORKING COUNTS AS A FIND

ONE POOR CHAP HAD BURIED HIS CAR ON MUSKOKA BEACH ROAD THIS MORNING, AND IT WASN'T HIS FAULT IN THE LEAST. EVEN GOING SLOW PAST HIS DITCHED VEHICLE, YOU COULD SEE A SUBSTANTIAL LAYER OF ICE UNDER THE DUSTING OF SNOW. IT WAS ON A CORNER WHERE MOST PEOPLE GET HEAVY-FOOTED WITH THE BRAKE, AND THIS TENDS TO CREATE ICE OVER TIME. HE WASN'T IN VERY DEEP, BUT ON THIS ROAD, THE DEEP AND ROCKY DITCHES HAVE CLAIMED A LOT OF VEHICLES IN THE PAST. THE THREE OF US IN THE VAN COULDN'T HAVE PULLED HIM FREE REGARDLESS, SO THE TOWING INDUSTRY GOT SOME BUSINESS COURTESY THE WEATHER.

WHILE IT WAS DEFINITELY SLIPPERY OUT THERE, IT WAS STILL A GREAT WINTERESQUE TRIP INTO THE HINTERLAND. I LIKE HEADING OUT FOR AN ANTIQUE-RUN ON A MORNING JUST LIKE THIS, AND FOR US IT'S NO INCONVENIENCE GOING A LITTLE SLOWER, AND ENJOYING THE VIEW. WE ALWAYS LET TRAFFIC GET AHEAD OF US, AND WE WILL MAKE NO APOLOGIES FOR DAWDLING. THIS MORNING IT WAS ABOUT AS ALLURING AS YOU CAN GET, AND WHAT MUSKOKA IS FAMOUS FOR. YOU KNOW, WHEN I READ ABOUT COMMUNITIES THESE DAYS, RE-BRANDING THEMSELVES, TO CREAT A MORE DYNAMIC AND MARKETABLE IMAGE, LIKE BRACEBRIDGE IS WORKING ON CURRENTLY, FRANKLY I'M MIFFED TO SILENCE. GOOD THING I'VE GOT A KEYBOARD. I THINK THERE'S A FAILURE HERE, TO MAKE MORE OF THE DISTRICT IN WHICH WE WORK AND DWELL. WE CAN SPEND ALLL KINDS OF TIME AND OODLES OF MONEY, TO IMPROVE UPON THE "IMAGE THING," AND LOTS OF MAGIC-BEAN REMEDIES THAT, AT BEST, ARE THINLY ROOTED, AND ON FACE VALUE….PRETTY MUCH A FACADE.

THERE IS NO NEED, FROM WHAT I SEE, TO "BRAND" MUSKOKA. JUST PUT OUT A WELCOME SIGN, AND DO WHAT YOU DO WELL HERE……SO GUESTS WILL COME BACK FOR THE NATURAL SPLENDOUR, AND THE HOSPITALITY THEY RECEIVE HERE. JUST LIKE WE'VE BEEN DOING SUCCESSFULLY FOR OVER A CENTURY.

THE TRIP WASN'T PARTICULARLY BOUNTIFUL IN THE QUEST FOR ANTIQUES…..ALTHOUGH I DID GET A 1930'S HINGED WICKER HAMPER, THAT MAY HAVE BEEN AT A LOCAL RESORT, THAT WILL BE PERFECT FOR SUZANNE'S WOOL STORAGE. IT'S NICE AND CLEAN, A LITTLE ASKEW AS WICKER CAN BECOME WHEN STORED POORLY. I FOUND A NICE MINIATURE CUPBOARD WITH HUTCH, DONE TO SCALE BY A HOME CRAFTSMAN, THAT WHILE NOT OLD, WILL MAKE A WONDERFUL EXHIBIT PIECE FOR OUR VINTAGE CHILDREN'S TEA SETS AND ACCESSORIES, THAT WE'VE BEEN COLLECTING FOR OUR FUTURE GRANDCHILDREN. IT'S A SOLID LITTLE PIECE WITH ANTIQUATED HINGES, THAT MAKE IT LOOK LIKE A PIONEER PIECE. FOR $20 IT IS A WINNER. THE BASKET, WITH HINGED LID. $3.99. I ALSO GOT AN ANTIQUE REFERENCE BOOK THAT I WILL ADD TO MY IDENTIFICATION ARCHIVES. AS FOR MY OLD INSTRUMENT LOVING PARTNERS, SONS ANDREW AND ROBERT, THEY DIDN'T GET TOO MUCH EITHER, BUT HAD A CHANCE TO TALK WITH A COLLEAGUE IN THE MUSIC BUSINESS, AND WORKED OUT A COUPLE OF DEALS THAT WILL BENEFIT ALL PARTIES DOWN THE ROAD. AND THEY GOT SOME SUPPLIES AS WELL. SOMETIMES JUST CONNECTING WITH FRIENDS AND ASSOCIATES IN THE BUSINESS, IS WORTH THE MOTOR TRIP. LONG TERM BENEFITS FROM A SHORT SPECULATIVE ADVENTURE.

A RUTHLESS COLLECTOR WITH A LONG MEMORY - CARRIED OVER DECADES

DAVE BROWN WAS SMART, INSIGHTFUL, WISE, AND WILEY - BUT COULD HE EVER HOLD A GRUDGE

I NEEDED DAVE BROWN'S TUTORIALS IN THE ANTIQUE AND RARE BOOK FIELD. HE WAS A GOOD ADVISOR ON PAPER HERITAGE ITEMS, AND WHAT TO LOOK FOR, AND HOW TO UTILIZE THE INFORMATION WITHIN. WE WERE BOTH HISTORIANS, AS WELL AS ANTIQUE-FIELD DABBLERS. MINE WAS PROFESSIONAL DABBLING. HIS WAS AS A COLLECTOR, HOARDER, AND OCCASIONAL YARD SALE LIQUIDATOR. DAVE WAS FAMOUS FOR HIS HAMILTON YARD SALES, AND SOLD THOUSANDS OF FURNITURE PIECES HE ACQUIRED, TO MCMASTER UNIVERSITY STUDENTS, NEEDING DESKS, CHAIRS AND SHELVING FOR THEIR NEW DIGS.

MOST IN HAMILTON NEW DAVE BROWN AS THE DIRECTOR OF ONE OF THE MOST FASCINATING OUTDOOR EDUCATION CLASSROOMS IN THE PROVINCE. IN OUR SPARE TIME, FROM OUR MORE SERIOUS EMPLOYMENT, DAVE AND I TALKED A LOT ABOUT COLLECTING OLD BOOKS AND ANTIQUES GENERALLY. I VERY MUCH APPRECIATED DAVE SHARING HIS STORIES WITH ME, BECAUSE TO THAT POINT, I'D HAD TO EDUCATE MYSELF WITH ONLY PERIPHERY ASSISTANCE FROM COLLEAGUE-COMPETITORS……AND THEN, I LEARNED BY WATCHING OVER THEIR SHOULDERS, NOT THAT THEY HAD VOLUNTEERED TO TUTOR THE NEW-GUY TO THE TRADE.

DAVE LIVED HIS OFF-SCHOOL HOURS AS AN ADVENTURE. BELIEVE ME, HE HAD LOTS AND LOTS OF ADVENTURES. HE MET A LOT OF INTERESTING PEOPLE, AND HE WAS INVITED INTO HOMES THAT WERE LIKE ART GALLERIES, FULL OF PAINTINGS AND ANTIQUES. FOLKS TRUSTED DAVE, AND HE WAS WORTHY OF THE HOSPITALITY. DAVE WOULD HAVE SHARED HIS TALES WITH ANYONE KIND ENOUGH TO INVITE HIM HOME FOR DINNER, OR OFFER A PLACE TO SLEEP FOR THE NIGHT.

NOW I DIDN'T FIND OUT MANY DETAILS OF DAVE'S STRANGER SIDE, UNTIL MONTHS, YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH. IT WAS PRETTY INCREDIBLE, THE LENGTHS DAVE WENT TO, IN ORDER TO SURROUND HIMSELF WITH NATURE, HISTORY AND ARTIFACTS. ONE OF HIS BIGGEST PROJECTS INVOLVED WHAT WAS KNOWN, I BELIEVE (BUT ALWAYS STAND TO BE CORRECTED BY THOSE WHO KNOW BETTER), AS THE "TURTLE CLUB," A LARGE LOG CAMP BUILDING ON THE NORTHERN EDGE OF ALGONQUIN PARK. DAVE HAD BEEN VISITING THE ABANDONED BUILDING FOR YEARS, AND BY SOME ARRANGEMENT WITH A PARTNER, WHO WILL NOT BE REVEALED BY THIS WRITER, THE BUILDING WAS TO BE TORN DOWN, THE LOGS NUMBERED AS TO THE LOCATION OF THE BUILDING THEY CAME FROM, REMOVED TO A STORAGE SITE, AND THEN RE-BUILT AT ANOTHER CAMP SITE IN THE DORSET AREA…..OR THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN LED TO BELIEVE. DAVE DID TALK ABOUT THIS ADVENTURE WITH AN ANTIQUE BUILDING, BUT REVEALED VERY LITTLE ABOUT THE PARTNERSHIP THAT WENT SOUR.

IN THE SUMMER, THIS PARTICULAR YEAR, DAVE WAS TO COMMENCE, WITH HELP PRESUMABLY, TEARING DOWN THE LOG STRUCTURE, AND COMMENCING THE NUMBERING IDENTIFICATION. IT WENT OFF WITHOUT A HITCH, AND WHEN THE JOB HAD BEEN COMPLETED, AND THE LOGS SHIPPED TO A YARD NEAR DORSET, THERE WAS TO BE A SETTLING OF ACCOUNTS BETWEEN THE PARTNERS. I HAVE NO IDEA OF THE PAYMENT SCHEME, OR IF THERE HAD BEEN SOME OTHER ITEM FOR BARTER, ON THIS ADVENTURE. BUT DAVE WASN'T REIMBURSED ACCORDING TO THE TERMS OF THE AGREEMENT BETWEEN HISTORIANS……. AS THEY BOTH WERE WELL KNOWN IN THEIR PROFESSIONAL LIVES. AMONGST BEING OCCUPIED IN OTHER PROFESSIONAL CAPACITIES AS WELL. IN SHORT, DAVE FELT HE GOT STIFFED FOR A SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT OF SOMETHING…..MONEY OR PIECES USED AS TRADE BAIT.

LET ME PUT IT TO YOU, THIS WAY. SHORTLY AFTER DAVE'S DEATH, A SMALL JOURNAL WAS SOUGHT OUT BY THE SURVIVING PARTNER, THAT CONTAINED THE NUMBER CODE OF THE LOGS, THAT HAD ONCE MADE UP THE ARCHITECTURAL INTEGRITY OF THE FORMER TURTLE CLUB. FOR YEARS AND YEARS THE HARD FEELINGS WERE ALLOWED TO FESTER, BETWEEN TWO FORMER FRIENDS, AND THE LOGS SAT ROTTING WHERE THEY HAD BEEN DEPOSITED, AS A RESULT OF THE FINANCIAL GRID-LOCK. TO MY KNOWLEDGE, HAVING BEEN CLOSE TO THE EXECUTORS OF THE ESTATE, AS DAVE'S BIOGRAPHER, HE HAD DESTROYED THE NUMBER CODE MUCH EARLIER……..TO RULE OUT ANY POTENTIAL, THAT IN THE EVENT OF HIS DEMISE, FIRST, HIS PARTNER WOULD GET THE WEE BOOK. FINALLY WINNING THE BATTLE OF WILLS. JUST THIS PAST YEAR, THE PARTNER PASSED-ON AS WELL, WITHOUT THE MATTER EVER BEING SATISFACTORILY RESOLVED.

On one weekend, the summer season before his death, Dave arrived at the house particularly animated. He was on the brink of getting a major paper collection, of very old business journals, from the late 1800's, that he had been called to look at, and appraise somewhat, by a Hamilton jeweler. There were about five or so books in the small lot, but content wise, the material was quite significant for local historians. While the jeweler had the books, they had actually been left in the building by a former owner, and the ledgers contained inventory and sales records from a general merchant's business, that had been kept in an old safe. The former business owner didn't care about the old books and receipts from the retired general store, but to Dave, they were a precious find. But here's the thing, once again. The jeweler didn't want to sell them. He wanted a rough idea what they were worth. Dave knew he had his work cut out for him, but was optimistic he could eventually seal the deal with a nice, fat, cash offer. Dave was a cheapskate, of that there's no doubt, but when he really wanted something, like these books, he could definitely make a substantial and alluring offer. So for hours, Dave ran ideas past Suzanne and I, to create a master plan in advance, that would convince this jeweler to unclench the paper heritage. He wasn't being dishonest about it, but once again, the collector-Dave was obsessive about getting what he wanted, with a "take no prisoners" point of view.

To the best of my knowledge, the jeweler never relented to Dave's many forays, and unless he didn't tell me about it, my guess is he struck out on the books. He probably had to settle for a first-refusal kind of agreement with the chap, that if he was to ever sell the records, Dave would be asked to make a bid submission. He was not a good sport when it came to such things, but in all honesty, this kind of relationship with a "maybe" seller, has been a damnation to many of us in the antique trade. I'm reminded of the nice old timer, who invited me over to his house, to look at some antique furnishings he wished to sell. I was pretty green as a dealer, and very poor as a business man, and the gentleman's pieces were way, way beyond my budget…..for the whole year. They guy was a jerk, and made me feel quite inadequate as a dealer, and offered the smart-ass comment, before I left, that "I knew you wouldn't be able to afford my stuff. I just wanted to hear what your appraisals would be, so I could compare with the other dealers I've spoken with." I left with a nice pellet gun, I bought for five bucks. Geez, I had to buy something to justify my time. I did think, God forgive me, about winging a pellet into the guy's buttocks, but then I'm too good looking to go to prison.

Dave had an uncompromising determination. One day, a friend of his, with a cottage on Clear Lake, east of Bracebridge, was getting rid of an old stove that had been in the vintage cottage, from its original construction. Dave used to stay for weeks at the island cottage, even by himself, and when his owner friend told him about changing over the old wood stove, for a new one, of course the wheels started turning. Dave thought he'd like the stove for a display he had planned for the small museum exhibit space, he maintained, at the Hamilton Board of Education Administrative Centre. I'm betting the stove was made at a Hamilton foundry. So the plan was to ship the old stove over to the mainland car-park, by available watercraft…..say a small aluminum boat.

I knew Dave was going to do this, because he had dropped in on the Friday night, here at Birch Hollow, just to say hello. So when he came into our antique shop, on the main street of Bracebridge (at the time), I asked him right-off, how the big stove move went. He just stood there, with hands on hip, covered in mud and bits of plant life from the bottom of the lake, and two great big cuts on his bare legs. The light colored shorts were no longer so light. Kind of mud-hued. I didn't have to ask a second time. Dave had a wonderful way of introducing a story…..that he had obviously honed as a career teacher. He described the process of getting that old iron stove out of the cottage, down the rocks to the dock, into the the perfect spot to then drop it down into the moored boat. To hear him tell the story, was hilarious but if you laughed, he could fire off like a triple loaded musket…..flames shooting out his nostrils. Well, it went badly, and that was obvious, looking at the wounds on his legs. "I was working with people who didn't understand the requirements of patience and balance," he said, while picking debris out of his waist band. "I told them to wait, wait, and be careful, and they just dropped the stove into the boat. It flipped us over in half a second, and the stove hit me on one leg, the dock on the other, and we all went swimming at once."

Another time, he arrived at the store wet and covered in mud, and frankly smelled like swamp. "For God's sake man, don't you know how to paddle a canoe?" I inquired. "Oh I know how to paddle all right, Ted. But the mud on me isn't from capsizing. I meant to jump into the swamp," he smiled with a wink of the eye. "Why Dave?" I asked. "I found a huge preserved end of a white pine log, at the bottom of this swamp, and I could see the imprint of an old logging stamp." To Dave, a logging historian himself, this was a big deal-find. The actual iron stamps are very expensive to purchase, if you can find one at all. Here was the result of an iron stamp, from a Muskoka based company, imprinted into the log. I believe it was attributed to the J.D. Shier Lumber Company. The irony here, is that my father, a career lumber salesman, had moved us to Bracebridge in the mid 1960's, to work at Shiers.

So Dave got a large section of pine log……weighing about three hundred pounds on dry land, up from the muck of the ages, and into his canoe. He got the log secured in his canoe, and then walked through a large portion of Muskoka swamp, pushing the canoe toward shore. And yes, should you be wondering, he was covered in leeches. Yummy. That explained the suction marks and blood on his bare legs. His plan, as the owner of the pine chunk, was to put it on display at the school board's offices, as part of a new logging exhibit he had planned for later that fall…..with a selection of logging artifacts, including the iron logging stamps from his private stash. I have his drawings for the set up, that the estate afforded me after his death, to use as graphics in his biography. Dave was not adverse to pushing the envelope, if and when he had an opportunity, and the plan to pull it off. I asked him, sometime later, if he had any plans to haul up that old wood stove that had been unceremoniously dumped into Clear Lake. "No Ted, that one's for the fishes!"

Thanks for joining this blog. More antique hunting adventures to come.