Hugh Clairmont On The Barge, Gravenhurst

THINKING BACK UPON THE DAYS OF HUGH CLAIRMONT AND MUSIC ON THE BARGE

THE LARGER THAN LIFE DAYS WHEN HUGH TOOK THE STAGE

     INEVITABILITY. IT'S INEVITABLE I'M GOING TO DIE! I CAN SAY IT, WRITE IT, READ IT OVER AND OVER, BUT IT DOESN'T MEAN MUCH. I'M THE SAME AFTER THINKING ABOUT IT FOR A FEW MOMENTS, AS I WAS BEFORE IT ENTERED MY MIND. ON HEARING NEWS SOMEONE IS GRAVELY ILL, I MIGHT MULL OVER THIS INEVITABILITY THING, TO PREPARE MYSELF FOR THE COMING NEWS, SOMEONE CLOSE HAS PASSED AWAY. SEEING AS WE ARE MORTAL AFTER ALL, WE'RE ALL GOING TO PASS ONE DAY, TO THE GREAT BEYOND. THERE ARE TIMES HOWEVER, THAT "INEVITABLE" HITS YOU IN THE FACE. THEN THE REALITY, IS THE STINGING OF YOUR SKIN. I KNEW HUGH CLAIRMONT WAS UNWELL. IN FACT, SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME HE WAS IN THE HOSPITAL THAT CHRISTMAS SEASON. SUZANNE AND I THOUGHT WE SHOULD VISIT. WE DIDN'T. AS I HAD BEFORE, I COULD ALWAYS VISIT HIM AT HOME, WHERE HE'D BE SITTING READING HIS PAPER, BESIDE MAISIE, IN THEIR CHARMING BAY STREET HOMESTEAD.

    IN THIS CASE, AND IN MY NAIVE OPINION, INEVITABILITY, WAS THAT HE WOULD COME BACK HOME TO GRAVENHURST, WELL ENOUGH TO GO CROSS COUNTRY SKIING AGAIN. I NEVER THOUGHT THAT THIS TIME INEVITABILITY MEANT SOMETHING MUCH MORE CONCLUSIVE. AFTER A CAREER OF WRITING THE STORY ABOUT US, WE WERE GOING TO HAVE TO WRITE THE STORY ABOUT HIM.

     CKCO NEWS REPORTER GAR LEWIS, PHONED TO TELL ME, THAT HE HAD JUST HEARD HUGH CLAIRMONT HAD PASSED AWAY. I STOOD THERE FOR A FEW MOMENTS, UNTIL GAR ASKED IF I WAS STILL ON THE LINE. WE WERE NEW TO GRAVENHURST, AT THAT TIME, BUT HUGH CLAIRMONT REPRESENTED ABOUT HALF WHAT I KNEW OF OUR ADOPTED HOMETOWN. I REMEMBER TALKING WITH A FEW FRIENDS, IN BRACEBRIDGE, BEFORE WE MOVED HERE, IN 1989, AND EACH ONE OF THEM SAYING A LITTLE SOMETHING ABOUT THEIR FRIEND HUGH. "SAY HELLO TO OLD HUGHIE FOR ME, WILL YOU," SAID ONE. ANOTHER ASKED IF HUGH WAS STILL WITH THE BAND HE KNEW AS "THE SANDSMEN." AND THEN ONE ASKED, "HE MUST BE ONE OF THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED PEOPLE ON EARTH." I FINALLY PULLED OUT OF DISBELIEF, TO TELL GAR THAT THIS WAS A BIG BLOW TO ALL OF US LOCAL WRITERS AND REPORTERS, AS HUGH CLAIRMONT WAS A DEAN OF THE LOCAL NEWSPAPER INDUSTRY, MUCH MORE THAN JUST A WELL KNOWN MUSICIAN. WE'D ALL HAD A FEW COLD ALES WITH HUGH, AT ONE OF THE LOCAL WATERING HOLES, (THE STAR AND THE SANDSD) OVER THE DECADES, AND SHARED SOME INCREDIBLE STORIES. HUGH LIKED TO TALK, AND WE LIKED TO LISTEN.

     WRITING ABOUT THE BARGE THIS WEEK, TO HELP LAUNCH THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE 2012 SUMMER SEASON, AND A NEWLY REFURBISHED STAGE, I'VE BEEN BROWSING THROUGH A FILE FOLDER OF NEWS CLIPPINGS. THE FIRST ONE I PULLED OUT THIS MORNING, WAS ONE FROM THE JULY 23RD, 1981 ISSUE OF THE MUSKOKA SUN, AND ABOVE THE LARGE PHOTOGRAPH OF THE LOCAL LEGEND, IS THE BANNER HEADLINE, "HUGH CLAIRMONT'S DIXIELAND BAND AT BARGE SUNDAY NIGHT." THE CAPTION READS, "MUSIC ON THE BARGE: HUGH CLAIRMONT, ONE OF MUSKOKA'S POPULAR MUSICIANS, LEADS HIS NEW DIXIELAND BAND ON THE BARGE, AT GULL LAKE PARK, IN GRAVENHURST, THIS SUNDAY, JULY 236TH, AT 7:30 P.M. LIISA STEVENS, CANADA'S BLONDE BOMBSHELL WILL BE THE FEATURED VOCALIST."

     THERE'S ALSO A PICTURE THAT WAS TAKEN IN 1958 BY THE LATE GRAVENHURST PHOTOGRAPHER, HENRY FRY, SHOWING HUGH AND FAMILY WITH AN INTERNATIONALLY KNOWN MUSICIAN. THE CAPTION READS, "REMEMBERING HIS MANY YEARS ASSOCIATED WITH MUSIC ON THE BARGE, COLUMNIST HUGH CLAIRMONT SAYS THE MOST SPECTACULAR ARTIST TO APPEAR HERE WAS RAFAEL MENDEZ, KNOWN AT THE TIME AS THE WORLD'S GREATEST TRUMPET SOLOIST. FOUR OF THE CLAIRMONT CHILDREN, MARY, PAUL, MARK AND CHRISTINE, ARE ALSO SHOW IN THIS 1958 PHOTOGRAPH.

HUGH USED TO VISIT US AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE

     About once a month, while I was editor of The Herald-Gazette, in Bracebridge, Hugh used to come up for the regular Friday meeting of the local Rotary Club, and after the lunch, he'd wander into the newsroom, with Raymie Lee and Hugh Mackenzie, our publishers, to see if there was any big news brewing. He'd sit down with Brant Scott and I, and share a few stories of his early days working as a stringer, for various publications, and of course the time he covered Hurricane Hazel. Even though we were young punks in the journalism business, and he had nothing much in common with us, he took a genuine interest in fledgling writers; and if Hugh gave you a compliment, it was sincere and always well received. He had such a forceful presence, and when he walked into a room, everything became far more amicable…..cheerful, even exuberant in anticipation of what he was going to say first. He knew how to work an audience. He was stage savvy that's for sure. Even when the atmosphere was a little tense, he could instill good cheer with one of his deep, resonating laughs, that seem to come from his toes.  I can't tell you how many times Hugh walked into the room, when someone was giving us crap, for something, and within about three seconds of coming through that door, there was the most amazing change of attitude……and if one of our bosses was blaming us for some shortfall, or error in the most recent paper, Hugh took the side of the reporter. He'd say something like, "These young fellas are working hard for you……and they're giving you a good paper." Basically, he was saying, in his own way, "cut these folks a little slack." He knew what it was like to be an under-paid writer-kind. He understood the rigors of trying to get ahead in this highly competitive profession, and the kind of mine-field you had to navigate to get any serious recognition, or advancement. Our managers, or anyone else sharpening their claws on our news desks, were dismissed by Hugh Clairmont's boisterous joy for all things newspaper. He loved the industry, and would soon open a new publication, known as Muskoka Today, with his publisher son, Mark.

     Shortly after moving to Gravenhurst, I had a chance to work for Muskoka Today, and sat at a desk between Mark and Hugh, and let me tell you, it was an incredible experience. Like sitting between two Snowbird jet engines. There were only a few of us in that room, but with the excitement and back and forth dialogue, loud most of the time, it was too hard to concentrate…..from the generally quiet newsroom I had come from at The Herald-Gazette. I knew at the time, this was going to be one of the most interesting times of my professional career, and it most certainly was influential. I stared in open-mouth awe, a lot of the time, sitting in the crowded newsroom, as phones rang constantly, and three or four conversations occurred at once, frequently involving me. They found order amongst chaos. I was stunned, and often had to retreat home to write in my solitude. My column was headed "Hometown Advantage," and the Clairmonts had asked well known Gravenhurst artist, Frank Johnston, (Clairmont family friend) to do sketches of each writer for the paper. What an incredible honor. Frank was not only a fabulous artist, and one of the finest print makers in Canada, but he had worked closely with artist Harold Town, one of the famed Group of Eleven Artists, from the 1950's and 60's. In Town's biography, entitled "Hot Breakfast For Sparrows," written by Iris Nowell, the relationship between Johnston and Town is fully documented……and of course the wild cruises they had on Johnston's sail boat, the Cara Mia. It was a memorable time in my writing career, and the chance to work with Hugh was a great honor. What I liked so much about Hugh, was his ongoing support, and congratulatory respect, when you wrote something that he particularly liked. His confidence always made us humble scribes, want to work a little harder to live up to his expectation. This is a guy who was a close friend of Toronto Sun columnist, Paul Rimstead, who had actually written a column while staying with Hugh. He had to phone it in to the paper, as I believe he was feeling a little under the weather that morning. Hugh and Rimstead were quite a twosome, as both loved their music, and their passion for living the good life…..being involved, and immersing in the culture around them.  They both wrote insightfully about their amazing life stories, and all the people they came to know, in all walks of life, all professions and recreations included.

     I remember having some cold pops with Hugh at Muskoka Sands one evening, listening to Daryl Hollingsworth perform on the small stage of the rock-exposed basement, quaintly situated at lake level. What an amazing summer night it was. If I remember correctly, I was there with John Black, who was The Herald-Gazette production manager / photographer, Scott McClellan, our staff writer, Brant Scott, also a staff writer and Fred Schulz, to us then, a respected news and feature photographer. Suzanne was also with me on this night, plus a few ladies we were trying to charm. Part way through the evening, I asked Hugh if he'd ever consent, to me writing his biography. Which was stupid, of course, because his son Mark would have been his choice, if not having done it himself. I just felt, at the time, his story, beyond the typical feature news coverage, needed to be preserved for Gravenhurst. He told me, after one of his husky laughs, that it would be a great book if he could tell all his stories…..but that some couldn't be told, and he gave me a big, trademark smile, indicating some of his adventures would never be for public consumption. But nonetheless, even minus a few colorful anecdotes, his was a storied, interesting, adventurous life. We sort of left the idea in limbo that night, and it never came up again over the years. I wish he had agreed back then, because Gravenhurst needs his story. He was the kind of character every town has, at points in history, and needs to bolster and inspire its rank and file citizenry. Someone who doesn't color within the lines, on purpose, and who likes to shake things up from status quo. He knew his stuff, understood local politics, was a friend or acquaintance of just about everyone in this community, and never lowered his eyes when he met you on the street. If you didn't know who he was, it didn't matter to Hugh. "Hello" was a hometown thing. Nothing special. Not extravagant, or really all that outgoing. And I'm sure there were people he said "hello" to, who kept looking back, to check him out……to see if he was all right. Hugh did things old school around here. Ninety-nine percent of us loved it. The other one percent came to love it, after they figured out, Hugh was the unofficial mayor, and it was his way, to greet all those he met along his daily ventures…..even on the ski trail, or sitting in the restaurants he visited. He was the social convener. I was in a restaurant one blustery winter night, when Hugh came in, along with a huge gust of wind and snow, and at least three tables out of five, made the audible announcement, "Here's Hughie!" They don't say that out loud when I come into the room.

     I remember one other winter night, when Hugh, cold and exhausted, came into Sloans, where Suzanne and I were dining. He'd been out cross-country skiing, and was still covered in snow. In fact, it was dripping on us, from his half frozen wool sweater. "Hughie, you're dripping on those folks," said the waitress, gesturing at his ear, to pull him away to his regular table. We had a few minutes to chat, regardless of the drip. He wasn't at this table two complete minutes, before he had two friends hovering above, talking about stuff. All kinds of stuff. Hugh liked having an entourage. They liked spinning stories with him. We couldn't have cared less about a few drips of melting snow. Hugh was the joyful life-force that made us happy and contented, about the decision to move to Gravenhurst. To say he was the life of the party, is to sell the man short. He was the party. I always looked forward to our always casually attired, uplanned meetings, in a wide array of interesting places around Muskoka. I might one day meet him in Port Carling, down by the locks, or up in Huntsville, on the main street, or even in Orillia. It was always the same. Two writers getting together to talk about the daily news, and what was going on in our respective lives. He validated me as a writer, and I just patted him on the back, and congratulated him on a stellar career.

     When Gar phoned that Christmas, to tell me our old friend Hugh Clairmont had passed away at South Muskoka Memorial Hospital, I felt that our town had lost one of the most faithful advocates any small town could have, and that, frankly, we had lost a huge whack of heart and soul. I knew Hugh had been sick for some time, but this shouldn't have happened to someone so vigorously engaged to life.  Gar and I agreed, that we would both have a drink that day, in his honor, to thank him for making our media work so darn entertaining for so long. He was a beacon of the industry, and there wasn't one of us, who hadn't learned to be better reporters and writers because of his tutoring. It wasn't about investigative reporting. It was about understanding the people we were interviewing. He gave us reason to seek out human interest angles to our stories, and to delve beyond what was perceived to be cut and dried. There was humanity buried somewhere in the story, and the map he gave us, led us to the spot we should have been from the start. It was about people first. News just happened to be the result. Hugh gave us rookie writers some honest advice, and although he wasn't selling any agenda, or criticizing us for any perceived wrong, he rightly suggested we could all benefit from intuition. It wasn't bad advice at all.

     In writing about the re-launch of the newly renovated Barge, at Gull Lake, this summer, Hugh Clairmont, and son Mark had to be mentioned. Mark worked many years as a stage hand, and Hugh entertained from that enchanted island stage, on one of Muskoka's most picturesque lakes. I can still see Hugh on that stage, and hear the applause for another great show, amongst many, put on by this talented family, still a vibrant recollection, in the ongoing tradition of the Music on the Barge program. He entertained us so capably, and we fondly remember him.

     Remember to come out to the first concert of the 2012 summer season, this Sunday evening, June 24th, when Conductor, Neil Barlow, will present the Muskoka District Band. The concert may be held in the Rotary Pavilion, in case some of the work on The Barge restoration, has yet to be completed.  Bring a lawnchair and some rain gear, if the weather looks precarious. The event will carry-on even in a light rain. Thunder and lightning will force the show to be cancelled. There are no rain-out relocations this summer season, due to the size inadequacy of other local venues. The show starts at 7:30 p.m.

     More on The Barge to come. Thanks for joining today's blog. Come again soon.