Grant Tingey & Hired Gun Live at The Griffin Gastropub in Bracebirdge on Thursday Evening. In photo from left to right Blake Tingey, Grant Tingey, Rob Currie, Johnny Fay and Andrew Currie. |
HERITAGE AS A BUSINESS RESOURCE? IF WE POSSESS LEGENDARY ACCOMPLISHMENT AS OUR CHRONICLE, WHY THE HECK AREN'T WE BRAGGING?
"IRVIN 'ACE' BAILEY BECAME ONE OF NORTH AMERICA'S GREATEST PROFESSIONAL HOCKEY PLAYERS, WHOSE ACHIEVEMENTS INCLUDED WINNING THE CUP FOR HIGHEST SCORER IN THE NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE, BUT HIS STELLAR HOCKEY CAREER WAS ENDED BY INJURIES, INFLICTED UPON HIM IN 1934 BY EDDIE SHORE IN A GAME AT BOSTON."
IN A LIFE MAGAZINE ARTICLE, WRITTEN BY MARSHALL SMITH, IN THE FEBRUARY ISSUE, OF 1951, THE TRAGIC INCIDENT WAS RECOLLECTED, WITH SOME CHAGRIN BY A SMATTERING OF HOCKEY HISTORIANS, DISPUTING A NUMBER OF THE FACTS CONTAINED IN THE STORY. MANY IN BRACEBRIDGE WOULDN'T CONCUR, AT THIS TIME, UPON HEARING STORIES THEY FELT WERE OUTRAGEOUS, THAT MR. BAILEY WOULD EVER RESORT TO SUCH AN EXTENT, AS TAKING A GUN TO BOSTON, IN ORDER TO SHOOT THE PERPETRATOR OF HIS SON'S INJURY.
"THE MOMENT BEFORE A MAN GETS HIS BRAINS KNOCKED OUT - OR ALMOST KNOCKED OUT, IS ONE NOT EASILY FORGOTTEN. CONN SMYTHE, PRESIDENT AND MANAGING DIRECTOR OF THE TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS, REMEMBERS IT AS VIVIDLY AS IF IT HAPPENED TO HIM. FROM HIS BENCH IN BOSTON GARDEN, HE SAW HIS MAPLE LEAFS AND THE RIVAL BOSTON BRUINS SCRAMBLING FOR THE PUCK. HE SAW HOCKEY'S GREAT 'BAD MAN,' BOSTON'S EDDIE SHORE, COME CHARGING DOWN ON ACE BAILEY LIKE A LOCOMOTIVE IN A PEARL WHITE MOVIE. SMYTHE TIGHTENED UP. THERE WAS A CRASH. ACE BAILEY CATAPULTED INTO THE AIR AND CAME DOWN ON HIS HEAD. HE LAY BLEEDING, MOTIONLESS, EXCEPT FOR A CONVULSIVE TWITCHING OF THE MUSCLES."
SMITH NOTES THAT, "AFTER THE FIRST STUNNED SILENCE, ONE OF SMYTHE'S OTHER BOYS, BIG RED HORNER, SKATED UP TO SHORE, 'PUT YOUR HANDS UP; I'M GOING TO HIT YOU,' HE SAID, AND THEN HE SWUNG. THE BLOW KNOCKED SHORE BACKWARDS IN A HALF FLIP. HE TOO CAME DOWN ON HIS HEAD. HE LAY STILL IN ANOTHER WIDENING POOL OF BLOOD. BEDLAM BROKE LOOSE IN THE GARDEN. AS THE UNCONSCIOUS PLAYERS WERE CARRIED FROM THE ICE, SMYTHE WENT RIGHT WITH THEM. SO WHEN A LOUD-MOUTHED FAN BLOCKED THE WAY, SMYTHE SWUNG ON HIM, PUTTING EVERY ONE OF HIS 132 POUNDS BEHIND THE BLOW. THE FAN'S GLASSES WERE SHATTERED AND MORE BLOOD FLOWED. THERE NEVER WAS A NIGHT LIKE IT IN BIGTIME HOCKEY.
"SMYTHE, PROTESTING VEHEMENTLY, WAS HAULED OFF TO THE POLICE STATION. ACE BAILEY WAS RUSHED TO AUDOBON HOSPITAL, WHERE AN EMERGENCY OPERATION WAS PERFORMED ON HIS BROKEN SKULL. HE WAS GIVEN A 50-50 CHANCE TO LIVE. EDDIE SHORE, WITH SEVEN STITCHES IN HIS SCALP, WAS HUSTLED OFF TO BERMUDA, TO WAIT UNTIL THINGS COOLED DOWN. IT WAS JUST AS WELL THAT HE WAS. A MAN WITH A HARD LOOK IN HIS EYE BLEW INTO TOWN FROM BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, AND BEGAN MAKING INQUIRIES. 'I'M ACE BAILEY'S FATHER (CHARLIE),' THE MAN SAID, CALMLY PULLING A SIX-SHOOTER OUT OF HIS POCKET. 'WHERE CAN I FIND SHORE?"
THIS VERSION OF EVENTS WAS REFUTED LOCALLY, BUT IT IS VALIDATED IN HOCKEY HISTORY, IN FRANK SELKE'S BIOGRAPHY, INDICATING THAT A POLICE FRIEND OF HIS, IN BOSTON, WAS ASKED TO INTERVENE. SELKE HAD APPARENTLY HEARD FROM A UNNAMED SOURCE, THAT BAILEY'S FATHER HAD LEFT BRACEBRIDGE WITH A WEAPON. CHARLIE BAILEY WAS THEN INTERCEPTED BY THE OFF-DUTY POLICE OFFICE, AN ACQUAINTANCE OF SELKE, BEFORE HE COULD ACT ON HIS MISSION, TO SHOOT THE MAN WHO HAD NEARLY KILLED HIS SON. WHAT AN AMAZING HOCKEY STORY WITH A DEEP ROOT IN BRACEBRIDGE.
EARLIER THIS FALL SEASON, I PROMISED READERS A SHORT SERIES OF BLOGS, HIGHLIGHTING BRACEBRIDGE'S MAJOR CONTRIBUTION TO THE EARLY YEARS OF PROFESSIONAL HOCKEY ON THIS CONTINENT, AND AS WELL, IN THIS COUNTRY. I DO APPRECIATE THAT THERE ARE QUITE A FEW READERS UNINTERESTED IN HOCKEY, AND SPORTS GENERALLY, BUT THIS STORY WILL BE IMPORTANT FOR A NUMBER OF OTHER REASONS, SIGNIFICANT TO CONTEMPORARY VIEWS OF THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE. IT APPLIES TO OTHER MUSKOKA COMMUNITIES AS WELL, WHO DON'T TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF THEIR HISTORY, AS AN ECONOMIC PROMOTION.
NEARLY A YEAR AGO, THE "MAKE BRACEBRIDGE GREAT AGAIN," CAMPAIGN BEGAN, AS AN ONLINE INITIATIVE, TO FORCE BRACEBRIDGE TOWN COUNCIL, TO RECKON WITH THE STALEMATE THE MUNICIPALITY HAS BEEN STRUGGLING WITH, IN TERMS OF, FOR EXAMPLE, RECREATIONAL OPPORTUNITIES, AND ECONOMIC ENHANCEMENT. I'M ASSUMING PART OF THE COMPLAINT FROM THE YOUNGER GENERATIONS, MOVING THIS INITIATIVE FORWARD, HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE EMPTY STORE FRONTS ALONG THE MANITOBA STREET BUSINESS CORRIDOR. WHILE I DIDN'T AGREE WITH THIS INITIATIVE, AS FAR AS THE "GREAT AGAIN" ASPECT, (BECAUSE BRACEBRIDGE WAS NEVER GREAT, BUT IT WAS A GOOD HOMETOWN IN THE PAST AND REMAINS SO, IN THE PRESENT), I DID FEEL THIS MAY HAVE PROVIDED AN OPENING FOR A PESKY HISTORIAN LIKE ME, TO REMIND THESE FOLKS, AND THE TOWN'S ADMINISTRATION, THAT ONE POWERFUL STRIDE FORWARD, OUT OF STATUS QUO, WOULD BE TO FINALLY, AND TOTALLY EMBRACE THE HISTORY THEY HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO POSSESS, AND BRAG ABOUT, IN A PROFOUNDLY PROMOTIONAL SENSE. NO, DON'T WORRY, I'M NOT GOING TO YAP-ON ABOUT BRACEBRIDGE'S UNDER UTILIZED PROMOTION, OF THEIR CONNECTION TO WASHINGTON IRVING, ONE OF THE WORLD'S MOST REVERED AUTHORS. WHAT A SHAME NO ONE IN THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY WILL TAKE THE INITIATIVE TO HARVEST THIS ASPECT OF LOCAL HISTORY, BUT IT'S NOT FOR MY LACK OF TRYING. I GET QUITE BEFUDDLED WHEN THERE ARE COMPLAINTS MAKING THE PRESS, ABOUT BRACEBRIDGE ECONOMIC SHORTFALLS, YET THOSE WHO HAVE A VESTED INTEREST IN MAKING IMPROVEMENTS, CAN'T MUSTER THE INTEREST TO RESEARCH, AND PROMOTE WHAT IS FREE AND OF INTERNATIONAL SIGNIFICANCE. IT'S NOT THAT I HAVEN'T OFFERED TO HELP OUT. INSTEAD OF A STATUE OF WASHINGTON IRVING, THERE IS A MOVE TO CREATE A HUGE BRONZE OF SANTA CLAUS, PRESUMABLY IN REFERENCE TO THE TOWN'S LONG AND SUCCESSFUL RELATIONSHIP WITH SANTA'S VILLAGE. I'M NOT AGAINST A STATUE OF SANTA. BUT A PUBLIC, BOLD AND BEAUTIFUL RECOGNITION OF WASHINGTON IRVING SHOULD COME FIRST. IT WAS AFTERALL, AS FAR BACK AS 1864 WHEN BRACEBRIDGE WAS GIVEN THIS AMAZING LITERARY PROVENANCE.
HOW DOES THIS SPIEL GET AROUND TO HOCKEY HISTORY? IT'S PRETTY MUCH THE SAME DEAL, AS WASHINGTON IRVING, AND THE ONLY WAY IT'S DIFFERENT, IS BECAUSE I WAS ABLE TO ACQUIRE FUNDS FROM THE CROZIER FOUNDATION, TO CREATE THE BRACEBRIDGE SPORTS HALL OF FAME DISPLAY CASES, AT THE COMMUNITY CENTRE. WHEN I WAS ASKED BY ROGER CROZIER, FORMER N.H.L. ALL STAR, A NATIVE SON, IF I WOULD AGREE TO BE THE PUBLIC RELATIONS DIRECTOR FOR THE MUSKOKA BRANCH OF THE NEWLY CREATED CROZIER FOUNDATION FOR YOUTH, AT THE SAME TIME, HE ASKED WHAT I THOUGHT WOULD BE A SUITABLE GIFT TO THE TOWN, TO INAUGURATE HIS CHARITABLE ORGANIZATION. IT ROLLED OFF MY TONGUE WITH EASE. "A BRAND NEW SHOWCASE FOR THE ARENA LOBBY." WHILE HE DIDN'T LIVE TO SEE IT OPENED, AND FULL OF THE RELICS OF BRACEBRIDGE'S SPORTS HEROES, IT WAS BUILT FROM MONEY THAT HE HAD HELPED RAISE FOR THE START-UP OF THE FOUNDATION. AND ONE WHOLE GLASS CABINET, OF THE WALL OF EXHIBITION CASES, WAS DEVOTED TO THE MAN WHO BECAME AN N.H.L. LEGEND, AND TRAGIC FIGURE AT THE SAME TIME; IRVIN "ACE" BAILEY.
DURING MY TWELVE YEARS, WORKING AS THE HALL OF FAME CURATOR, I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO HANDLE THESE AMAZING N.H.L. ARTIFACTS, INCLUDING THE PAUL WHITEMAN TROPHY, WHICH WAS ONLY EVER GIVEN TO ONE PLAYER, AND THAT WAS TO "ACE" BAILEY. WHITEMAN, AN INTERNATIONALLY RECOGNIZED BAND LEADER, WAS A BIG FAN OF ACE BAILEY, AND HAD THE TROPHY MADE FOR HIM. I WAS IN AWE EVERY TIME I HAD TO RE-FASHION AND CLEAN THE SHOWCASE, AND DUST OFF THE ARTIFACTS, WHICH INCLUDED BAILEY'S SKATES. THE HOCKEY MEMORABILIA WAS LOANED TO THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES, AFTER HE RETIRED FROM COACHING HOCKEY AT THE UNIVERSITY LEVEL IN TORONTO. UNFORTUNATELY, THE SMALL DISPLAY SPACE, AFFORDED THE RELICS, DID NOT ADEQUATELY SHOWCASE BAILEY'S CAREER, AS THEY DID, IN A BRAND NEW, BRIGHT SHOWCASE, FINANCED BY THE CROZIER FOUNDATION. WHAT SURPRISES ME TODAY, IS THAT SO MANY FOLKS IN BRACEBRIDGE HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE WHO ACE BAILEY WAS, AND THOSE WHO HAVE HEARD THE NAME, DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT HIS ASSOCIATION WITH THE TOWN. I SURPRISED A BUSINESSMAN RECENTLY, WITH THIS BIT OF HOCKEY HISTORY, RAISED IN CASUAL CONVERSATION, AND HE COULDN'T BELIEVE, AS A HOCKEY LOVER HIMSELF, THIS BIT OF LOCAL HERITAGE HAD EVADED HIM. THERE'S A SIMPLE EXPLANATION. IT ISN'T CONSIDERED A BIG DEAL IN THE CONTEMPORARY SENSE. THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY HASN'T SERIOUSLY EMBRACED THE IDEA, THAT OUR HISTORICAL MILESTONES ARE WORTH PUTTING OUT THERE, AS AN ECONOMIC INVESTMENT IN THE FUTURE. WHY NOT BRAG ABOUT OUR STORIED PAST? THE BIOGRAPHY OF IRVIN "ACE" BAILEY IS OUTSTANDING. IT IS RIPE FOR EXPLOITATION. PERFECT TO PROUDLY HANG OFF A SIGN BOARD, OR MAKE VISIBLE VIA A HUGE PAINTED MURAL, THAT ACE BAILEY, ONE OF THE NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE'S BEST KNOWN PLAYERS, WAS FROM BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO.
WHY IS IT NECESSARY, WITH SUCH A NATIONALLY SIGNIFICANT PROVENANCE, THAT WE CAN ONLY FIND THIS OUT BY GOING OVER TO THE ARENA, AND STARING INTO A SHOWCASE? OR GOING INTO THE BRACEBRIDGE PUBLIC LIBRARY, AND ASKING THE CLERK IF YOU CAN SEE ANYTHING REGARDING THE SPORTS HISTORY OF THE TOWN; AND THEN BE HANDED A COPY OF GEORGE BOYER'S BOOK, "EARLY DAYS IN MUSKOKA," PUBLISHED BY THE HERALD-GAZETTE PRESS, IN 1970. BY THE WAY, THESE OUT-OF-PRINT MUSKOKA FIRST EDITIONS, ARE UNDER LOCK AND KEY, WHICH MEANS ONE WOULD HAVE TO READ THE SECTION IN THE LIBARY, BECAUSE THEY AREN'T FOR LOAN. SO GENERALLY SPEAKING (OR WRITING), TOURISTS TO TOWN AREN'T LIKELY TO MAKE THIS FORAY, PART OF THEIR VISITING EXPERIENCE. SEEING AS I JUST PURCHASED A COPY OF GEORGE'S BOOK LAST WEEK, FROM A HUNTSVILLE ANTIQUE SHOP, I'LL SHARE SOME OF GEORGE'S INSIGHTS, ABOUT HOCKEY HISTORY IN BRACEBRIDGE WITH YOU. A GREAT STORY THAT NEEDS TO BE EXPLOITED, NOT JUST TUCKED INTO AN ARCHIVES COLLECTION, OR VISIBLE ONLY, IN A POCKET OF DISPLAY CASE, AT THE BRACEBRIDGE ARENA. BY THE WAY, HOW DO YOU KNOW PARRY SOUND WAS THE HOME OF BOBBY ORR? WELL, THAT WOULD BE THE RESULT OF THE MUNICIPALITY PROUDLY PROMOTING THE KINSHIP. WE COULD LEARN FROM PARRY SOUND, HOW TO CELEBRATE THOSE WHO HAVE REPRESENTED OUR MUSKOKA MUNICIPALITIES SO WELL, ON THE INTERNATIONAL SCENE.
AN OVERVIEW OF IRVIN "ACE" BAILEY, IN THE WORDS OF BRACEBRIDGE HISTORIAN, GEORGE BOYER
I stopped my car one afternoon, on the shoulder of Santa's Village Road, in January a few years ago, because I saw a game of shinny being played on a small stretch of ice coating the Muskoka River. What a wonderful image of Canadian hockey heritage, in a community, that had lots of outdoor rinks cleared, some on the river just like I was seeing this particular afternoon. It was snowing a little, but it was still bright in the closing hours of daylight. I got thinking about some of the great hockey games played on the open air rinks, at around the time Irvin 'Ace' Bailey was honing his skills that would earn him a place in the National Hockey League. Bracebridge had a lot of hockey teams, and hundreds of players, including a women's team that was well known as one of the toughest teams in the region. What a great history to relive and bring back to public focus, in this 100th year of Hockey Canada.
To begin with, imagine if it was possible, and financially feasible, to employ an artist, or many artists, to paint a series of heritage panels, depicting hockey, as it was being played on the river and ponds, in the the period of the early 1900's in Bracebridge; and how dazzling and nostalgic, having these finished panels exhibited at this time of year, while celebrating Christmas and winter here in South Muskoka. Bracebridge Town Council might consider sponsorship, of a regional art contest, that would make this portrayal, a national initiative for the conservation of hockey history, from a region known for its contribution of allstar players (in commemoration of the centennial of Hockey Canada); artists who could depict heritage hockey games, on open rinks, from around the turn of the 1900's, when Irvin "Ace" Bailey was a player on the team "Bailey's Aces." Possibly, given this wishful thinking on my part, you can try to visualize what the scenes, described by George Boyer, would look like in art-work, to be shown off to the townsfolk, and visitors to Bracebridge. Here it is, for gosh sakes, the 100th anniversary of Hockey Canada. What a great way to participate in the heritage recognition. So who will paint these images? If I could, I most certainly would! Open it to artists to interpret these colorful scenes of old time hockey.
"The river has been an advantage to the youthful hockey enthusiasts of Bracebridge, providing a good sheet of ice for considerable time each winter. Of course the brand of hockey was of the shinny type, but the boys learned to skate and carry the puck, and when Mr. John Dunn provided a covered rink, there were some players ready for organized competition. The first rink was not conducive to good hockey, as it was small and the rows of posts prevented any attempt at combined play. When Mr. Dunn's second rink was erected about forty years ago (1930), teams were entered in the Ontario Hockey Association and there were many fine games."
Mr. Boyer writes that, "A wise move was made in forming a town league, with several teams, and these created a lot of interest and developed players who afterwards made a name for themselves in hockey circles. The Gravenhurst team provided the biggest opposition, and some fine contests resulted. We were usually grouped with Gravenhurst, Midland, and Penetang, and as interest increased, the Bracebridge team would run special trains to these points. It took a lot of cash to finance the teams in those days. One of the town groups in the early days, comprised the 'Merchants,' the 'Old Tannery,' and the 'Printers.' These were some spirited contests but the Printers won out. The Gazette supplied Allie Stephenson, Alf McIssac, Jack Richea, and the Herald, the Bastedo boys, Charlie Bailey, Harold Eby and the writer (George Boyer). We also played a Printers' team from Huntsville, and won quite handily. Other town leagues were made up of the Beavers, the Uptown, the Flat, the Clerks, the Delivery Boys, and others, and these games served to develop players for the Ontario Hockey Association games, some of who became famous."
George Boyer adds, "A product of these games, who attained international fame, was Irvin "Ace" Bailey. Irvin learned to skate on the river and when he tried out of the Ontario Hockey Association, was first played in the nets, and made a success of it; but he was a fast skater and a good shot, and he was tried out on the forward line, at right wing, playing junior hockey. From Bracebridge Irvin went to Peterborough, and soon found himself with a professional team in the National Hockey League; the Toronto St. Patricks. (soon to become the Maple Leafs) He was with the (Toronto) Maple Leafs when, in 1931-32, they won the Stanley Cup. He led the League in scoring and it was the pleasure of the writer to see the game ,in which Ace clinched the scoring honors for the season. He was against the New York Americans and the goal which assured him undisputed lead, was tallied when he took the puck from his own territory, and eluded the entire opposition to draw out the goalie and score. Irvin was one of hockey's greats, and when his career was suddenly cut short by an injury sustained in a game with Boston, there was universal regret. However, Bailey has retained his interest, and is the coach of the Senior Varsity team, (in Toronto), and is always interested in the players of his home town."
In a wrap-up of local hockey history, Mr. Boyer writes the following summation: "Another Bracebridge player, who entered the professional ranks was Clarence (Dutchy) Jamieson, who played for years with Cleveland, and afterwards became a well known referee. Earl (Squirrellie) Walker also played for a short time with Cleveland, and for about thirty years with the home team. The hockey-loving people of Bracebridge, owe a great debt of gratitude to Earl for his fine performance, from year to year, and for the interest he has taken in the teams, since he gave up active participation in the game, about ten years ago. We might mention the Jocques, five of them, who excelled in hockey and lacrosse; the Coopers, the McLeods, the Bastedos, Bill Kinsey, Horace Parlett, the Dunns, Russ Salmon, Pat Ryan, Lyle Cowan, Russell Best, Roy McDonald, Archie McKay, Mel Robinson, all of whom, with many others, gave of their time and talent, to uphold the old town in hockey. Bracebridge has only won one championship in competitive hockey but has several times reached the semi-finals in the O.H.A. (this was only up to 1970)."
He also notes, circa 1970 about Roger Crozier's advancement in the National Hockey League, writing that, "In the past few years, one of our fine young men, Roger Crozier, son of Mrs. Lloyd Crozier and the late Mr. Crozier, has become the pride and joy of his home town of Bracebridge, for his outstanding record in the National Hockey League, as goalie for the Detroit Red Wings. We take great pleasure in watching him in action by way of television." When this book was published, Roger would have been moving on, in professional play, joining the second expansion of the N.H.L., as part of the newly launched Buffalo Sabres. He would go on to play with the Washington Capitals where he would finish his professional career, later in the 1970's.
While it isn't intended to reflect on George Boyer, for his sincere editorial about the pleasure of watching Roger play, it is unfortunate then, much later in time, that in the early 1990's, there was only one water-damaged photograph of Roger Crozier, at the Bracebridge Arena, and it was found in a box, kept in storage. And when I began a vigorous campaign to rectify this, there was an unsettling criticism from some quarters, which has stuck with me for all these years. As I usually do in these circumstances, I bulldozed my way through anyway, and found funding through Roger's foundation, to build a proper display case; to house, as a matter of irony, the photograph that had been dumped in a box and placed in storage. Of course it makes me mad. It should make the citizens of Bracebridge mad. But it didn't. It's why in the present tense, it is such a daunting task, to in this instance, of the Ace Bailey story, sell the town on promoting his biography by whatever means possible, in recognition of Bracebridge's stake, in the history of hockey in Canada. What an amazing resource, that receives little to no public reverence, even by the movers and shakers of the "make Bracebridge great again," agenda, apparently uninterested in re-capturing that particular era of "greatness." Well, here's a heck of a place to start. Irvin "Ace" Bailey. And there are others deserving promotion in modern day Bracebridge. It isn't enough, to just to have these references contained in the text of books. There are many ways to increase exposure, from wall murals, to a new era of heritage signing with photographs, to celebrate folks like Ace Bailey. It should be shared with the world.
As a final note, on this subject of public recognition for our world class athletes; I received thousands of positive comments from visitors to the Bracebridge arena, regarding what they had viewed in the Hall of Fame display cases. They were relayed to me by arena staff, and it was always nice to hear that it was being appreciated; and was a worthwhile promotion of the town at the same time.
From the archives
BRACEBRIDGE WILL ALWAYS HOLD A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY FAMILY REMEMBRANCES - AS OUR SLEEPY HOLLOW - HOSTING SO MANY CHRISTMASES
I HAVE BEEN A PROLIFIC WRITER ALL MY LIFE. EVEN BACK AS FAR AS MRS BARRET'S GRADE SIX CLASS, AT BRACEBRIDGE PUBLIC SCHOOL. I WROTE WAR TIME STORIES. FICTION. COMIC BOOK STUFF. I'VE WRITTEN MANY HUNDREDS OF STORIES ABOUT THE EARLY DAYS OF BRACEBRIDGE, IN MY TENURE WITH THE COMMUNITY PRESS, AND APPRENTICESHIP WITH MUSKOKA HISTORIAN, ROBERT BOYER AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE. THE BULK OF THESE STORIES WERE WRITTEN AS COLUMNS BENEATH THE HEADING, "SKETCHES OF HISTORIC BRACEBRIDGE," AND "MUSKOKA SKETCHES," IN A FREE WEEKEND PAPER, KNOWN BACK THEN AS "THE MUSKOKA ADVANCE." BEING THE HAM THAT I AM, I WOULD WRITE MORE ON A CERTAIN SUBJECT, IF I RECEIVED ENCOURAGEMENT TO DO SO. AS THERE WAS AMPLE MAINSTREET HISTORY ALREADY RECORDED, BY MY CONTEMPORARIES, I OPTED INSTEAD TO WRITE ABOUT MY OWN ERA GROWING UP IN THIS TOWN.....WHICH DATED BACK TO THE MID 1960'S. THESE WEREN'T INTENDED TO BE HISTORICALLY RELEVANT ARTICLES, AND MADE NO CLAIM TO THEIR ACCURACY. I JUST DECIDED, WITH SOME READER ENCOURAGEMENT, THAT THE FINAL DAYS OF WHAT I CALLED THE "OLD" TOWN AS WE KNEW IT, DESERVED SOME REFLECTION...AS INTIMATE AS I COULD MAKE THEM READ. SO I POURED MYSELF DEEP INTO THE COLUMNS, AND HIGHLIGHTED SOME OF THAT "OLD GANG OF MINE," IN THESE SAME COLUMNS. IN ONLY A MATTER OF MONTHS, BELIEVE IT OR NOT, I WAS GETTING FAN MAIL, AND MANY STORY SUGGESTIONS, REGARDING THE SAME PERIOD OF TIME. A LOT OF LOCAL RESIDENTS, WHO HAD ENJOYED A LONG TIME RELATIONSHIP WITH THE COMMUNITY, CONCURRED THAT BRACEBRIDGE, BY THE LATE 1970'S, HAD CHANGED FOREVER. IN PART, IT CAME WHEN DISTRICT GOVERNMENT CAME INTO BEING, DIVIDING THE REGION INTO SIX LARGE MUNICIPALITIES, AND ELIMINATING SELF GOVERNANCE FOR AREA HAMLETS AND VILLAGES. IT MEANT AN OPENING DOOR TO DEVELOPERS, AS URBAN AREAS WERE EXPANDED TO FACILITATE NEW INVESTMENT. MANY NEW INVESTMENT PROJECTS WERE ARRIVING IN BRACEBRIDGE, AND IT WAS OBVIOUS, WHAT HAD BEEN THE HALLMARKS OF THE 1960'S, AS A CONTINUATION OF THE OLD TOWN WAYS, WERE BEING ROUNDED AT THE EDGES, NEVER TO RETURN. CALL IT THE SMALL TOWN AMBIENCE. THE CHARACTER OF A SEVERAL HORSE TOWN THAT WAS A HAIR'S BREADTH OVER 3,000 SOULS, FOR A LONG, LONG TIME, WAS NOW THE RECIPIENT OF EARLY URBAN SPRAWL. REGIONAL GOVERNMENT CHANGED THAT POPULATION FIGURE AS WELL. A LOT WAS ABOUT TO HAPPEN BY THE EARLY 1980'S, AND IT'S WHAT I FED-ON IN THOSE THROW-BACK COLUMNS. THE COLUMNS PUBLISHED HERE, THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON, WERE INSPIRED FROM THAT FIRST ROUND OF REVIEW, BETWEEN OLD AND NEW.
ALL OUR OLD NEIGHBORHOODS -
WHAT TO DO WITH THE MEMORIES?
I’M LEAVING THAT UP TO MY SONS AND GRANDKIDS!
In a notebook I keep by my livingroom chair, I occasionally jot down story ideas. Not invented stories but ones that I believe my biography should contain. Reminiscences I want my grandkids to know about. I’m pretty sure my grown sons, know how important my childhood recollections are......because I’ve been droning on and on for years, about stuff I’m sure they couldn’t care less about. It has relevance in the grand scheme but on the short haul, it doesn’t make much difference if I tossed green apples at roof tops, or played “nicky-nicky nine doors” till the cows came home. It is what it is. Important to me. Annoying chatter to them, when they’ve got more important things to do,....... than reminisce about something and someplace they never visited.
I don’t know how you feel about your own childhood neighborhood. Some were better than others, admittedly, and some may wish to forget about certain unfortunate, unhappy events and circumstances. Maybe you’d rather forget about childhood generally because of bad memories. I’ve always had a mid-zone approach. There’s lots of periods I’d rather forget but I know I can’t. Like when my parents argued and argued and argued. My dad had a free-flowing Irish arrogance, often drank too much, was jealous to a fault, and could be a social problem if given all the right conditions. My mother was determined and feisty, and soldiered-on despite the grief my father could raise from the most innocent of perceived offences.
Ed didn’t have the best childhood either, and spent a lot of time, with his brothers, wards of the province. Having come from the tough Cabbagetown neighborhood, in Toronto, he was raised to be tough, and relentlessly hardened by reality. Fatherless, responsible for the family welfare most of the time, he’d learned that being gentle meant being vulnerable. He never gave the appearance of being a push-over that’s for sure. It made my mother’s life tough, and I often stepped between them, willing to risk my own neck to keep the cruiser away from the door. My peace of course, is that they patched their marriage up, Ed changed into a much kinder human being, and my mother was pleased to have calmer waters in the final decades of their life together. While I still prefer to dwell on happier times, I’m still abundantly aware, after many years, that it’s necessary to confront the adversity of personal history. It’s also true that there were many more good times than bad, in our family, and my love for the old neighborhood, in Bracebridge, Ontario will never dwindle.
The note I made last evening, was really for my lads, Andrew and Robert, who will inherit this journal and all my years of story-inscribing in these blogs......and in the stacks of publications I’ve, at one time or another, contributed columns. The note was about a game of road hockey I want them to play, some snowy Christmas Eve (after I’ve departed this mortal coil), up on that block of Alice Street where I played a thousands games during my years on the hill......Hunt’s Hill, that is! I want them to link the tradition of those years with their present, in celebration of good times in old places dear to our hearts. I want them to just show up, with sticks, ball and toques, chip off four big chunks of snow for goal-posts (as we did because we couldn’t afford nets), and with their buddies and family members, set up for a three period memorial game in my honor. How vain is this? Well, it doesn’t have to be a memorial. Just a “for fun” gathering that rekindles an activity us Hunt’s Hill / Alice Street kids enjoyed every day of the cold winter in Muskoka. We continued games on asphalt when the snow cover melted away but we played, and played. It didn’t matter that we were short changed a neighborhood park or even a big parking lot we could set up a makeshift arena. The road, as bumpy as it was, served our interests just fine.
It might seem a tad morbid to be planning your own tribute hockey game, but my boys will know just how passionate I have been in life, about preserving family legacies.....and keeping important traditions alive. I want them, in their lives, to know that good and memorable times have very little to do with money, and the privilege that can buy. We were a modest neighborhood and very few of us had money to spare. We lived from pay cheque to pay cheque like everyone else, and those on fixed incomes had gardens in their backyards, and they canned fruit and vegetables every fall, after the modest harvest. We had to be frugal. We didn’t care, or even think about hardship......we were too busy being thankful for our own blessings, our own daily rewards. We were too busy living to worry about what we didn’t have, or what others did. When we commenced the ball hockey game of the day, or under the lamplight for evening games, all differences were forgotten and we listened instead, to the lucky bloke selected to be Foster Hewitt, who would joyfully provide the game’s play by play. If you’d asked any one of us at that moment, what it was like to be poor, we wouldn’t have known how to respond. I knew my family couldn’t afford new boots because my feet were always wet, and most of us were playing with broken sticks we found at the arena, with short shafts and half blades, because we couldn’t buy new ones. Poor? We were resourceful more than we were poor. Rich kids called us that when they saw the soles of our shoes flapping and slapping noisely at recess, or when we had to wear the same clothes day after day....but it wasn’t the kind of slur we found hard to live with.
I’m fond of my old neighborhood for what it didn’t have. The was no need to offer an apology when a shared dinner was meatloaf, and “everything-in-it stew,” or cheese-dusted macaroni. Many of my mates enjoyed peanut butter and jam sandwiches my mother made for intermissions....washed down with cold glasses of water to tide us over for another period of rigorous play.
The pay-off of all this modesty, was finishing dinner, and getting the chance to have yet another game of road hockey.....or in the spring, a pick-up game of baseball....the fall, a game of football on the modest grid-iron of our small front lawn. It was a safe and caring neighborhood, and for all that it didn’t have, it was blessed with an unpretentious honor, we upheld, wherever and whenever a show of prowess was required. We had many sporting encounters with other neighborhoods, and I would say Hunt’s Hill was always a top contender.
I want my boys to take their kids up to that sort stretch of old asphalt, to play just one more game, and to think, not just about their old dad, but about all the aspiring athletes, who had such great fun making the best out of every day in a worthy hometown. Maybe they’ll hear the echo of cheers and voices from legend, and the faint play by play of Randy Carswell, an import to the neighborhood, who always volunteered to be Foster Hewitt......and simply wouldn’t take no for an answer. I don’t want the boys, or family, to get misty eyed about my request, or get caught up in a perpetual mood of sympathy and mourning. I’ve had a damn fine life, with no regrets about choices I’ve made. I’d like to think they would find a connection with me, they’ve never really had in our time together,..... as team-mates (in spirit) not just the tedium of the father / sons relationship. Because I’d be there, on that snowy Christmas Eve, in my ghost-wear, just as I played every Christmas Eve for my entire tenure at the Alice Street apartments. During a truly enjoyable time of my life.....when kids spent most of their days outdoors, and even more time wondering what it would be like if this stretch of frozen roadway, was actually Maple Leaf Gardens, the lamplight, the beam over centre ice, the limelight of the official face-off.
I suppose you and I do have some warm memories of the places we used to live.......afterall!
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