Reg's Rough-and-Tumble Rectangle

Good old Reg Cooper Square. For those of you not familiar with it, I refer to that mismanaged attempt to create a public space between City Hall and Centennial Hall in downtown London. 

Named after a long-serving civic employee who deserved better, the "square" - actually a rectangle - was meant to be a place for concert-goers to gather during intermission, an outdoor lunchroom where city workers could eat from their brown bags on sunny days, and a pretty view for those living on the west side of Centennial House Apartments. Instead, it's become a repository for pigeon poop, weeds growing between flagstones, and garbage strewn about by people attending downtown festivals. (Odd that anyone would think a park bench benefits from having a rib bone stuck between its slats - but I digress.)

 

OK, it's not all bad. The little tribute to Japanese Canadians added in 1977 (left) is an attractive, if rather well-hidden, feature. And although I'm not usually a fan of modern art, Ted Bieler's sculpture "Release" (above) is no eye-sore. Both these monuments could use a more attractive setting.

Part of the problem may be the surrounding buildings. I don't actually mind City Hall; there's nothing shabby about it. The Centennial House is not beautiful but, as I'm currently living in it, I can't critique it too much and can only assure the world that it's better on the inside. It's Centennial Hall that should be blown up - oops, I mean demolished - and a proper performing arts centre built on the same site. It's a mid-twentieth century disaster that doesn't deserve the term architecture.

Reg Cooper Square's main purpose at the moment seems to be to act as a short-cut for downtown pedestrians who don't want to hike around it. But maybe if we could convince the city to try a little maintenance, people might stop instead of passing through. Cutting the weeds back more often, painting the benches, repairing broken paving stones, and adding some attractive plantings might improve the square so much that not even its proximity to Centennial Hall could make it ugly. I mean, doesn't our Mayor ever look out the window?

A Stone on Simcoe

This little war memorial stands on the south side of Simcoe Street, commemorating students from Simcoe Street Public School who fought, and presumably died, in World War I.

It's also indirectly a monument to Simcoe Street Public School itself. Also known as Governor Simcoe School, it stood on the north side of Simcoe Street just east of Clarence. Built in 1887 and demolished in 1976, the school would have been attended by Guy Lombardo and his brothers who lived just a block away.

A reminder of London's past as well as a lost generation.

A Tribute to Dr. Agnos

Many of London's monuments pay tribute to notable local individuals. An example is this sign in a green area next to the semi-detached houses at 224-226 Richmond Street. It asks us to remember Dr. John William Agnos, avid naturalist and respected radiologist. John's father William, a Greek immigrant, bought 224 Richmond in 1950, while John's sister Georgia bought 226.

John graduated from Western's medical school in 1952 and became Head of Radiology at Westminster Hospital. But he was also an active and well-known environmentalist (in the days before environmentalism was trendy) and a president of the McIlwraith Field Naturalists. Eventually his interests in science and nature prompted him to produce a monthly column on these matters in the London Free Press. John passed away in 1991.

Heritage on Talbot

This attractive building - complete with heritage paint colours - has its own particular claim to fame, being the oldest wooden store front in London. Located at 357 Talbot Street, it's been sitting here looking cute since about 1863. It's currently the home of Heritage Antiques.

It looks small but stretches a long way back, and proprietor Tom Smits has filled it with a delightful variety of furniture, paintings, china, and ornaments. I coveted an 18th century French sideboard but realized it was too large to fit in my apartment. Maybe one day.

Update, May 2013 - Tom is closing his shop at the end of November. After 38 years in business, he's decided to enjoy a well-deserved retirement and travel. We'll be watching 357 Talbot to see its next incarnation.

Update: This is now London Coin Centre.

What to do with an old confectionary...

Earlier this year Arch Sturaitis made a presentation at a City of London Public Planning forum, the purpose of which was to find possible uses for the old McCormick's property near Dundas and Highbury. Arch suggested we preserve the facade of the building (although see my comments about facades) along with some interior elements.

The purpose of the building? A Museum of Industry and Commerce (MIC) focusing on London and region's accomplishments in "Manufacturing, Finance, and Enterprise." Arch also suggested incorporating a Science Education Centre, Horticultural Centre, Industrial Textile and Millinery Arts Centre, Gemology Centre, Historical Archive/Museum, Cultural Works Centre, and Research Library for the Arts.

Just for the record, the current status of the factory is up in the air and apparently London's Realty Services Division will be accepting bids for the property sometime this fall. So if anyone out there would like to snap up an old biscuit works and turn it into an MIC, this could be their big chance. I don't know much about gemology centres but I've already pointed out that we need a real museum and we could also use an archive.

I contacted John Fleming of City of London Planning Division to see how far London's got in organizing all this. Not very far. Mr. Fleming agrees that the proposed MIC "would likely fit nicely with the revitalization initiatives and planning underway in the Old East Village." But he added a few questions to ponder. Like, who would own this building once renovated? Who's going to pay for the renovation? Would the finished result generate enough revenue to help pay for itself?

If anybody has the answers, feel free to leave them here.

Update, July 2012: I see no one had the answers. Neither did City Hall. And the tax sale was a no sale. Counsellor Stephen Orser considers this good news and stated in a recent Free Press interview that "we are moving forward." As Counsellor Orser's idea of moving forward is demolition, we can anticipate a vacant lot here soon.

Update, September 2012: A fire has now wreaked havoc in the building. Not surprisingly - after all, that's what happens to lots of abandoned buildings. Remember Locust Mount and Alma College? We can probably expect the fire-damaged section to be demolished even if a buyer is found.

Update, June 2014: I stand corrected. Sierra Construction, a Woodstock firm, has bought the building for $1 and are talking about turning the old building into a seniors' residence. Stay tuned. 

Update, August 2019: The factory and its site will be being transformed into residential and commercial space. The developer apparently intends to maintain the "Sunshine" look, preserving the white facade and windows. 

Update, September 2022: It's been ten years since my original post. And it's been nearly a decade and a half since London first discussed reuse of this site. Once again a developer has asked for zoning amendments. A new developer wants to build townhouses rather than single family homes backing on to existing homes backing on to existing homes on Albany Street. They also want to increase the height of a proposed apartment building along McCormick Blvd. from four to six storeys. Stay tuned. Again. (Sigh.)

 

What a great building. Pity it's not ours.

What an attractive old building. Designed by architect H. B. Sinclair and completed in 1858 in the Italianate style, it was once considered one of the most attractive public buildings west of Toronto. A bell was added in the 1860s and a clock came along in 1897 to commemorate the Diamond Jubilee.

It isn't falling down. It's been intelligently renovated. It's actually being used, not neglected. It doesn't have a glass tower protruding from its centre and it hasn't been landscaped with flourescent metal trees. You guessed it - it's not in London.

It's Cambridge's Historic City Hall, once the administrative centre for Galt. In 1981 Cambridge moved its municipal offices to another location. City Council and committee meetings are still held in part of this building, but it was renovated in 1990 to become the home of the Cambridge City Archives as well.

That's right, a city archives, in a community smaller than London (120,000 as opposed to 350,000). In a city that's only officially existed since 1973. In a renovated heritage building, not an expensive, purpose-built eyesore. This building now holds paper records for Galt, Preston, Hespeler, and the modern city of Cambridge. Historic elements have been preserved while incorporating needed changes for accessibility and conservation.

How did they do it? Well, obviously many of the movers and shakers in the City of Cambridge liked their historic City Hall enough to restore it for continued modern use. But an interesting fact is that the renovation was paid for in part by Toyota Canada soon after the company located a plant at Cambridge. I'm not sure what percentage of the final restoration bill Toyota paid, but there's an obvious lesson here for London heritage activists: a corporate sponsor could be asked to alleviate some of the costs in transforming one of our older buildings into a much needed archives.

Gosh, maybe when Toyota finally takes over Ford Talbotville we could convince them they'd like to throw some money around...

Of Bridges and Engines

Many railway buffs will be familiar with Engine 86, an old locomotive currently on display at the Western Fair Grounds. Manufactured by the Canadian Locomotive Company in 1910, Engine 86 was used by the Grand Trunk and CNR before being donated to the City of London in 1958. 

 Unfortunately, donating an antique to the City of London is a mistake. That is, if you actually want it to be looked after. Despite being restored, mainly by GM Diesel in 1996-99, the Engine is rusting and animals are building a nest inside. The water tank was left uncovered for years so that rain and snow entered and rusted away the bottom of the tender. Although it was painted just a few years ago, rust is once again showing through. 

Now maybe it's just me but I can't really see the point in spending money to restore an antique locomotive and leaving it outside to rust in a Canadian winter. A humble opinion: the Engine should not have been moved to its current site without providing it with a shelter. The result has been wasted time, misspent money and a lack of respect for our railway heritage. 

But hold on - the folks at LACH (London Advisory Committee on Heritage) have proposed a solution. One that also concerns the Sarnia Road Bridge. And wait til you hear it: all we have to do is tear down that silly old 1909 steel-truss bridge, store its bits and pieces for a while, and someday in the future use the pieces to make some kind of cover for Engine 86. This is a fabulous idea, except that: a) no one's really clear how you adapt bridge bits to make a shelter for a locomotive, and b) the bridge will no longer exist as a bridge. 

Better solutions for both these artifacts? a) build a real shelter around Engine 86, complete with interpretive plaques so passers-by will understand this is a cool old locomotive, and b) move the Sarnia Road Bridge over a bit and continue to use it for pedestrian and bicycle use. Unfortunately, neither of these things will happen because: a) the current Mayor and Council would never agree to spending the money, and b) come to think of it, that's the only reason. 

So here's what will really happen to these two artifacts in the future: a) The Sarnia Road Bridge will be demolished. b) The City will store its parts. c) The parts will disappear into the basement of Museum London and never be seen again. d) Engine 86 will continue to rust. 

Note: Many thanks to local historian and railway buff Stephen Harding for his commentary on the current state of Engine 86. The opinions expressed here, of course, are strictly mine.