What does a heritage blogger do all winter, when daytrips are cancelled, it's too cold for walking tours, and heritage houses are hidden behind snowbanks? She catches up on her reading, of course. Allow me to make a few literary recommendations:
Lynne D. DiStefano and Dan Schneider, The Ontario Cottage: Perfect of Its Kind. Vancouver: Figure 1, 2025. 200 pages.
The perfect book for those of us who admire those lovely Ontario cottages, explaining how the style originated, how the cottages were constructed, and what it's like to live in one. It even includes chapters on the typical hip roofs and occasional verandas.
There are lots of cottage photos in this book, including some in colour. I'd like to see more pics from London, but when you're covering the entire province, I suppose you can't use many photos from each community. The authors have included some of our most historic and photogenic examples: Carfrae Cottage at 39 Carfrae Street, Nathaniel Reid Cottage at 477 Waterloo, and Templar Cottage at 607 Talbot Street. There are also some homes from the surrounding area, such as the beautiful Swiss Cottage in Aylmer, a gem I recognized from drives through that town.
Altogether, this is a fascinating book for admirers of Ontario's residential architecture. Let's get Lynne and Dan to tackle another style, like Queen Anne.
Shannon Kyles, The Story of Ontario Architecture: What We Built and Why We Built It. Greensville: Author, 2025. 381 pages.
First of all, Ms. Kyles needed an editor. When Foreword is spelled "Foreward," and there's a typo in the very first sentence, things aren't off to a good start. When, in addition, the index has an explanatory label stating that "the page numbering is skewed by 4 numbers after page 47 due to a technical glitch," I feel the author's pain.
Nevertheless, Ms. Kyles, who taught the history of Ontario architecture at Mohawk College for over 30 years, has achieved an incredible feat: a portrayal of Ontario's buildings from First Nations to the twenty-first century, with numerous illustrations of each style. Everything is here, including Georgian, Gothic Revival, Italianate, Queen Anne, Second Empire, Beaux Arts, Art Deco, and Gumdrop. (Yes, Gumdrop. It's a thing.) She also covers mills, factories, and apartments. And she explains, much to my joy, that our buildings are "part of a trend, are part of a more cohesive picture, and are definitely worth the effort of saving" (p. ii).
London's Central Cat Clinic, Museum London, "New" Court House, and Central Library are among the book's local illustrations, as are numerous older London houses. There are no addresses for the homess, which preserves owner privacy, but prevents me from visiting and admiring them myself. (Darn.) Interestingly, band-shell porches are described as veranda "circular areas." Is the author unfamiliar with "band-shell?" Is it a London term?
Finally, music to my ears: "Many studies prove that restored windows fitted with proper storms are as energy efficient as any new window, but most people are not aware of this ... New windows will need to be replaced every 10 to 30 years ... No part of new windows is recyclable. Why are we doing this?" (p. iv). Why indeed?
With beautiful colour photos and commentary on every imaginable topic from an abacus tile to wooden sticks, Kyles' book may just be the new "bible" of Ontario architecture. Any mistakes can be fixed in a second edition, which the book deserves. Check out the author's website here.
Mike Baker, et al, Ed Phelps: Son, Brother, Historian & Friend. The Aylmer Express Limited, 2025. 124 pages. Note: This book has been printed in a limited edition. London Public Library may be your best option.
Numerous authors have contributed their memories of Edward Phelps (1939-2006) to this tribute volume. I know many of the authors and have heard them talk about Ed. Since I never knew Ed myself, having arrived on the local history scene too late to meet him, this book has enlightened me. The London librarian and archivist was a legend in his own time.
In about 1971, Ed was appointed Librarian-in-Charge at the Regional Collection, D. B. Weldon Library, U.W.O. Until his retirement in 1994, Ed was relentless in searching for, buying, trading, selling, and donating historical material to the collection. Not only did he have a shrewd eye for historical materials worthy of archival preservation, but he was willing to haunt antique shows and flea markets, even plough through garbage, to find them. Contributor Theresa Regnier tells us he referred to his station wagon as "The Rolling Barn" since it was always full of "stuff" he'd picked up. John Lutman states Ed "was of the hunter-gatherer mode of archivist."
By these methods, Ed rescued large portions of southwestern Ontario's history from flames, landfills, and more distant archives. Those of us who have researched local history in the Regional Collection (now Western Archives and Special Collections) have used the materials, although some have been transferred elsewhere since. I'm grateful to have had access to such a collection.
But Ed also helped dozens of area writers and historians, giving them work and breaks to start their careers. He founded Phelps Publishing Company to print books that might not have been produced otherwise, including a few on my own shelf. He reprinted numerous historical county atlases, allowing many people to own a copy who would never find - or be able to afford - one of the falling-apart originals. His contributions to Southwestern Ontario history are too many to list here.
Ed left varied impressions. Norman R. Ball remembers Ed as "a rebel, a reputation he cultivated." Gord Russell remembers receiving mail from Ed "on bizarre materials, including the lid of a KFC bucket, or Kellogg's Cereal box," affixed with the appropriate postage. "Ed truly cared about people," writes Steve Peters. According to Sheila Johnson, the parties at his home on Bruce Street were "epic, and attracted a wonderful mixture of folks united by their love of history." Herman Goodden remarks on Ed's slovenly appearance: "My publisher-to-be looked more like a down-at-the-heels plumber than a librarian." But there was a dark side. "His intelligence," writes Mr. Lutman, "was combined with a serious lack of judgement, which got him into trouble. He died an unfortunate death, which shocked us all."
Thanks to this book, I know just what I missed out on by never meeting Ed. My own work, had he supervised it, would no doubt be better. Heck, he might have published it. I missed the parties, the scavenging expeditions, the garbage mail. But I now feel like I've met Ed Phelps. And I feel his loss.