In Praise of Small Town Museums

Those who find small-town museums boring - or all the same - are missing a lot. Arguably, small museums keep local history alive in ways no one else can, by preserving the unique heritage that larger big-city institutions overlook. The sites I visited yesterday do a deep dive into the specific industries, families, and history that shaped their parts of Oxford County. 

Ingersoll Cheese Museum

This cheesiest of all small town museums first opened in 1977 with a grant from the Canadian government, on a site donated by the Town of Ingersoll. It began as a recreation of a nineteenth-century Oxford County cheese factory, appropriate for this dairy capital of Ontario. In fact, it's just along the road from where cheesemaker James Harris' original factory was, the current site of Elm Hurst Inn. Harris and two other gents produced the 1866 Mammoth Cheese, as a display in the museum's gallery indicates:

Part of the historical signage featuring Oxford's Mammoth Cheese.

Over time, the museum has acquired other buildings, including a local history gallery, blacksmith shop, barns, and a schoolhouse portraying two different time periods of one-room schools.

Some railway history in the main gallery.

The Allen Dairy milk wagon.

Blacksmith shop.

The Museum Mouse, at large in the smithy. Every museum needs a Critter Curator.

Children might be freaked out by the schoolteacher's desk, complete with straps. Ouch!

The Reta L. Dickson classroom. How much could you learn, sitting on a bench, facing the wall, and writing on a slate, while the woodstove crackled behind you?

Beachville District Museum

Beachville is one of Oxford County's earliest European settlements, but it probably has only about 1,000 residents, so it might still be surprising that it has such an imposing museum. But it does:

The ground floor of the historic main building dates to 1851, which was when owner Philander King had the home built out of local fieldstone. The second storey, made of limestone, was added by the Downing family in 1902. The Downings were big figures in the local limestone industry, John Downing being one of the founders of the local quarries. The family sold the home in 1969, but Beachvilime Ltd. retained the house for decades before selling it to the Beachville District Historical Society in 1992.* The cost? $2.

The interior features a reproduction drawing room and a kitchen filled with antique equipment. Upstairs is a work in progress, but staff are completing a bedroom, antique children's toy collection, display on the lime industry, replica of a general store, and even an old-time bathroom.

What's unique, however, is the connection to baseball history. Beachville is the site of the earliest recorded baseball game in Canada:

In fact, we now know it was the earliest recorded baseball game in North America, predating Cooperstown by a year. Little did those pioneer players know they were literally making history. But it turns out that in 1886, Dr. Adam E. Ford, a Beachville doctor who moved to Denver, wrote a letter to Sporting Life magazine describing the match he witnessed as a child in Upper Canada. His letter is the first formally recorded account of a baseball game.* 

Note that the game wasn't played on the museum site, but farther into the village. But the museum is making the most of the ballgame connection, including Assistant Curator Sidney Williams' hands-on baseball-making workshops. 

Some Other Thoughts on Small-Town Museums

The guides in such museums are often local residents or historians, eager to share the origins of their displays. Enthusiasm makes the driest history come to life. 

The two museums above operate on a pay-what-you-can donation basis, which makes them accessible learning places for families and those without ample means. 

There's an informal, non-intimidating aura about such museums. The world's largest, supposedly greatest, museums are daunting as heck. Not Ingersoll and Beachville. Go out and enjoy.

* https://beachvilledistrictmuseum.com/baseball 

A Stop at Banner

I discover so many interesting places when I'm not looking for them, just passing through on my way somewhere else. An example is the hamlet of Banner, on Co. Rd. 60 and 15th Line in Zorra (formerly North Oxford) Township, which I would never have seen if I hadn't been on my way to Ingersoll on "60." 

Settlers arrived in early pioneer times at the intersection that became known as Spearman's Corners. A log school was built on the Joseph Spearman farm ca. 1840, replaced by a frame building in 1851. Eventually, the school site changed to make room for a playground. A brick school was built at the new site in 1900 and remains there to this day. 

S. S. 2 North Oxford. 

Our ancestors were profoundly religious. Hence, one of the first buildings in any pioneer community was the church. At Banner, we find North Oxford Wesleyan Methodist, founded in 1857, surrounded by a cemetery. Whoever thought to paint the door bright blue deserves a round of applause.

There was also a New Connexion Methodist Church across from the school building. The two congregations united in 1874, after which services were held in the Wesleyan church and tea meetings were held in the New Connexion structure. In 1893, the New Connexion building was purchased, renamed the "Shareholders of Oxford Hall," and moved to its present site west of the church. From that point onward, it was used for meetings, concerts, and so on.  

The intersection was renamed Banner when a post office opened in 1893. One story claims the postal department thought Spearman's Corners was too long a name. Another story claims that Joseph Spearman himself thought the name too long. At a community meeting, Mr. Minklar suggested the name "Banner." The origin of the name appears to be unknown. 

The northeast corner has this monument to Sarah Clark, postmistress from 1893 to 1914, when rural mail delivery replaced her post office. Sarah also had a store, started by the Patrons of Industry. There was a blacksmith in the community, and Banner Cheese Factory was about a mile north. The latter closed in 1958.

A woodyard and shipping station owned by Armon Clark was on the railroad just to the south of the hamlet. Known as Patton's Siding, the station acted as a shipping point for Banner farmers. A man named James Clendening met the train and picked up mail for the Banner Post Office. For outgoing mail, Clendening hung a mail bag on a hook at the side of the track for the train crew to snag as they puffed by.  

The sparse remains of Ontario's crossroads reflect the early twentieth-century shift in how people lived, worked, and traveled. Many early hamlets thrived because they were a day’s horse-and-buggy ride apart. But, as roads were paved and automobiles became common, rural residents were no longer forced to rely on a small general store such as Sarah's. The blacksmith was no longer necessary. The schoolhouse closed, replaced by a larger consolidated school. Only the church fulfills its original purpose, with an attractive website. 

Those wishing to know more about Banner - or Zorra - should check out the numerous historical resources available on the Oxford County Library website here. Beware of conflicting accounts, though; such is the nature of the historical record. 

The Ghostliest "Ghost Town" in Middlesex

Located on Napier Road in Adelaide-Metcalfe Township, the ghost town of Napier is a one-of-a-kind place. Nestled in the woods on the Sydenham River, Napier has a feeling of abandonment about it. It's undoubtedly Middlesex County's most romantic-looking vanished village. I've been here many times, somehow drawn to the place.

This area was first settled about 1829 by retired British military men. Among the most important of these was Captain Christopher Beer, who spent 14 years in the Royal Navy. In 1830, he received 800 acres of land in what is now Napier, where he built a two-storey log home and a large barn. In fact, 1835 was referred to by the locals as "the year Captain Beer's big barn was raised."* Most of the able-bodied men in the west end of the county assisted in its construction.

Another early settler here was Captain Robert Johnston, a Waterloo veteran who arrived with his family in 1832. Like many military men, he received land for his service. He wasn't the average settler, though; he arrived in the wilderness with bagpipes, a piano, 30 complete sets of military arms, and about £2,000.** Those sets of arms came in handy during the Rebellion of 1837; Johnston taught local women how to shoot so that they could defend themselves against attack while their husbands were away fighting the rebels. Not surprisingly, Johnston had the funds to build himself a large brick house with six chimneys on the east side of the future village site. Anglican church services were apparently first held in this home since it was large enough to hold a congregation.

One of the first public buildings constructed here was St. Mary's Anglican Church. The land for the church, on a hill north of the village, was donated by Charles Preston. The exact construction date varies with the source, but the church was completed around 1843. The oldest remaining church in Middlesex County, St. Mary's Chapel of Ease holds an annual Decoration Day Service in June. It's a day I try not to miss, since it's an opportunity to enter a primitive pioneer building that's usually closed. 

Attendees gather at St. Mary's Anglican Church, Napier, on June 28, 2026, for the annual service.

A cemetery surrounds the church. When Captain Christopher Beer died in 1871 at the age of 80, he was buried under a stone that reads "Anchored in the harbour of eternal rest." What more fitting tribute to a sea captain?

The grave of Captain Christopher Beer at St. Mary's, Napier.

In another corner lie the remains of Joe and Mary Wrinkle:

The original, now nearly illegible Wrinkle grave marker, next to a newer monument.

The replacement monument was recently added by Joe and Mary's descendants.

Joe was a fugitive slave from Louisiana who followed the Underground Railway to its ultimate destination, Canada. According to Napier resident Dana Bernier, who related Joe's story at this year's Decoration Day service, Joe was offered his white bride as partial payment for work on a local farm. According to a booklet entitled Napier Remembered, Joe worked on the Beer estate, and his wife was Mary McPhail of St. Thomas. When folks asked her why she married Joe, she replied, "His gracious manners and kindly ways took my fancy. The colour of his skin doesn't matter."*** I'd like to think Mary had some choice in her marriage. 

The array of signs at St. Mary's: the blue plaque unveiled by a descendant of Christopher Beer, a contribution from the Middlesex Historic Trail, and the 911 sign indicating 1418 Melwood Drive. 

Another early building here was a schoolhouse. The earliest school building was on the St. Mary's churchyard site, but, in 1866, a two-room school was built on Mary Street. The school building standing on Mary today, S. S. No. 3 Metcalfe, was built in 1900, the different brick colours suggesting it was built partially from the bricks of the earlier school. For a while, this building was a Women's Institute. By the way, according to this, the township would like someone to buy it. 

Metcalfe S. S. No. 3 is now boarded up. Note the Middlesex Heritage Trail sign on the entranceway.

Eventually, a bustling village developed here on the banks of the Sydenham. Johnston built a store and gristmill in 1838, importing millstones from Scotland that had to be hauled here by oxen from Port Stanley. Johnston also built a sawmill to harvest the black walnut trees in the neighbourhood. Not surprisingly, an early name for the community was Johnston's Mills. Later, it was known as Puffing Town from the sound of the steam engine at one of Johnston's mills. Apparently, it was one of the earliest, if not the earliest, steam engines in western Ontario. 

Later, after the Township of Metcalfe was created in 1840, the village was named Metcalfe. It was not until a post office opened here on November 6, 1851, that the village was named Napier. Where does the name originate? Well, it might have been named after Sir Charles Napier (1782-1853), British general during the Napoleonic Wars, or his brother William (1785-1860), another general, who wrote History of the War in the Peninsula. Perhaps some of the military men at Napier served under one or the other? 

In 1857, J. G. Sutherland moved to Napier, acquired the mills from Johnston, and built a new woollen mill. His enterprises dominated the community for many years. In fact, it was Sutherland who built the store known as the Napier House in 1872.

Napier House store is in poor condition as of spring 2026. 

Eventually, the Napier post office moved into the building above. Sutherland's son-in-law, W. S. Calvert, took over the store afterwards. Calvert eventually became a federal Member of Parliament. 

At its height in the 1860s, Napier's population may have been about 250. The community had merchants, inns, saloons, blacksmiths, and mills. This "capital" of Metcalfe Township had a map of its own in The Illustrated Historical Atlas of the County of Middlesex (1878):

So many streets and lots laid out! But whether all the lots were occupied is a matter of conjecture at this point. Most of the streets have reverted to bush. 

There were other churches here besides St. Mary's. A frame Methodist church was built on Clover Street in about 1860, but both the church and Clover Street are gone. A Presbyterian church was built in the south end of the village about 1864, but was replaced by another in 1887. The latter, St. Andrew's, still stands, but it appears to have closed.

When an organ was installed in the church above, staunch Presbyterians were horrified. One older man, who often slept through sermons, said he never had the same feeling of sanctity while sleeping in church after the organ was added. Another fellow claimed that "it would not be long before the devil would have a fiddle in there too." Sure enough, years later, a fiddle accompanied the choir.**** 

What happened to Napier? How did such a bustling community become the backwater of today? It's mainly the fault of the railroads. Both branches of the Great Western Railway (later the Grand Trunk and still later the CNR) bypassed Napier. The northern branch passed through Kerwood and the southern through Glencoe. Next, the CPR and the Michigan Central skipped the village. The people of Napier (what were they called ... Napierites?) expected to build a station on a hill south of the Napier House, but there was never any need. Much business was lost over the years as settlers moved to points along the railway. 

It's also been suggested that once the walnut trees were depleted, there was less work for the sawmills. But whatever the reason for Napier's decline, it didn't "go bust" overnight. Instead, it slowly faded during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The post office closed in 1915, and the village became part of R. R. 3, Strathroy. 

What else remains at Napier? Well, there's the Masonic Lodge next to St. Andrew's, a 1950s building replacing an earlier version declared unsafe:

Photograph and caption taken from the Middlesex Historic Trail sign at the Masonic Lodge.

This millstone from Sutherland's gristmill sits in front of the Masonic Lodge.

Today, there are numerous newer homes in the hamlet. I can't blame people for wanting to live in such a peaceful spot. Can a ghost town still be called a ghost town when it's grown in recent years? I think so. Napier is nothing like its 1800s heyday. 

On my last trip to Napier, I visited Dana and Nancy Bernier's unofficial Napier museum and archives in their garage. The collection could be archaeological (pottery, bottles, and other artifacts) as well as historical and archival (photographs of the Wrinkle family, news articles, etc.). Dana and Nancy also moved a local pioneer log cabin to their yard and restored it:

A pioneer cabin, rescued by Dana Bernier from a nearby baseball field where it was used as a concession stand.

*"Scorched Lodge Goat Mystery To Masons of Township of Metcalfe," London Free Press, January 30, 1932, p. 8.

** Napier Grist, Woolen Mills Aided Growth of Community," London Free Press, May 21, 1949, p. 31.

***Ruth Merrick, Napier Remembered: Memories of Metcalfe Township's Pioneer Community. Arva: The Medway Valley News, 1991. A quick look at ancestry.ca indicates that Joseph H. Wrinkle (1829-92) married Mary Sarah McPhail (1843-86) who came from St. Thomas. 

**** "Scorched," LFP, p. 8.

Dear Old Crathie, Adelaide's Boast

This crumbling cement-block hall at Highway 81 (Centre Road) and Crathie Drive, near Strathroy, was built in 1923 and, according to the sign at the top, was called Crathie Community Hall. 

A little building like this might be used by surrounding farmers for ... well, anything really. Bridge nights, bridal showers, debates, dances - you name it. In fact, the Middlesex Heritage Trail sign out front states that the young Guy Lombardo played here in the 1920s while still a college student. I admit that sometimes it seems like G.L. played everywhere ... but that claim to fame alone should make this building worthy of preservation. 

The sign also records the words to a song children were expected to sing at Literary Society meetings. held inside. I've reproduced some of the lyrics below. 

Crathie on the Hill

Of all the places far and near

There's none that can compare

With dear old Crathie, Adelaide's boast

Your're lucky if you're here.

Chorus

Crathie, Crathie that's the place for me

There's everything there from A to Z

Real good roads and shady trees

For work and comfort the people all use skill

So let's offer a toast to Adelaide's boast

Dear old Crathie on the hill.

A few explanatory notes: the hall sits on a slight rise or hill; it's in the former Adelaide Township (now Adelaide-Metcalfe); and "me" rhymes with "Z" (American-style). According to the plaque, these words were sung to a tune usually associated with London. I assume that means our London. Whoever researched this sign found the song in the London Free Press on March 17, 1925.

There was more to Crathie in the old days than this hall. A post office by the same name opened in 1874 on the southwest corner of this intersection with James Anderson as postmaster. It was probably named after the village of Crathie in Scotland, about a kilometre east of Balmoral. I believe it's pronounced CRATH-ee. The post office closed in 1880, reopened in 1887, and closed for good in 1913. The area also had a blacksmith and sawmill. At one time a school stood on the northwest corner, but it was torn down in the late 1960s.* Many earlier buildings have been replaced with newer ones on the same site. For example, there's a newish home on the site of the former schoolhouse.

Century-old buildings like this one are a reminder of our rural past. Pity someone can't restore this surplus structure into a working community centre again. Once more there could be a "Dear old Crathie on the hill..."

See Jennifer Grainger, Vanished Villages of Middlesex. Toronto: Natural Heritage, 2003, pp. 6-7.

An Afternoon in Wonderland

On June 21, my friend Nick and I attended a concert at Springbank Gardens, where a variety of free jazz, R&B, country, and blues performances are being held this summer. The swing band we enjoyed, Ron Gilbert & The Music Makers, was excellent, playing a variety of big band hits. The music was appropriate for the occasion, a celebration of Wonderland's history.

Ron Gilbert & The Music Makers. Vocalist Gillian Laidlaw at left.

Yes, this was "Wonderland," founded in the big band era, back in 1935. It was on May 24th of that year that Charles and Wilf Jones first opened Wonderland Summer Gardens, the music that night provided by Mickey McDougall and his orchestra. The building had cost a whopping $18,000 to construct.* 

1940s postcard from Photogelatine Engraving Co., Toronto. While there are no humans in this view, a dog is stretched out in the right foreground! Author's collection.

The Jones family operated Wonderland right into the 21st century. The music changed, of course; acts included Alice Cooper, Frank Zappa, Deep Purple, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. And it wasn't just a concert venue; it could be rented for gala occasions like my high school graduation. Yes, a teenage Jenny partied here, along with the rest of Westminster's Class of '89.  

Something happened in 2004, and I'm not clear what. After reading online articles, I suspect that the City of London wanted a bigger rent increase than long-time operator Chuck Jones could afford. It also sounds like the city considered updates were necessary if Wonderland was going to remain a competitive top-tier music venue. 

As so often happens with London's historic buildings, part of the complex burned down in 2005. It was redeveloped as Springbank Gardens in 2008 with an open-air pavilion beside the original outdoor bandshell. 

Now there's a long-overdue historic plaque on the nearby river path. It was unveiled just before Sunday afternoon's concert to much applause and a brief speech by Mayor Josh Morgan. Chuck and Don Jones, second-generation operators, were there to tell weepy-eyed stories about the good old days. 

For my friend Nick, the occasion was personal. His dad, Harold, played the drums in the Mickey McDougall band. Nick was taken to concerts by his father when he was only about four years old and tried to stay awake while the band played. All the girls thought he was a cutie.

Nick points at his dad in the photo of the Mickey McDougall Orchestra on the new Wonderland Gardens historical plaque. The plaque has been added by the City of London and the London Public Library Historic Sites Committee.

While it's sad that the original building was destroyed, it's great that "Wonderland" is still used for concerts, 91 years after the 1935 grand opening. 

Some other interesting facts:

The Guy Lombardo Museum opened nearby on May 19, 1984, for $90,000. This little museum closed in September 2007, due to poor attendance. Why? Perhaps a younger generation had forgotten London-born Guy Lombardo. Or perhaps the museum was mismanaged by an eccentric curator. 

Wonderland Road was named after Wonderland Gardens, not the other way around. The road started in the 1950s as a gravel driveway leading into the Gardens from Springbank Drive. When the nearby Guy Lombardo Bridge was built in 1978, it was dismissed as "the bridge to nowhere,** since all it did was connect Wonderland to the former Hutton Side Road. The result has become London's busiest north-south artery.

Londoners often think Guy Lombardo and The Royal Canadians played at Wonderland Gardens all the time. Actually, they only played at the Gardens twice, more than 30 years after they became famous.***

One of the attractions at Wonderland was a huge "Hollywood-style" outdoor swimming pool with sloping sides. The change rooms were old streetcars. **** Neighbourhood children could get a season pass for $5. ***** Sadly, by the time I arrived in London in the 1980s, the pool was abandoned, weeds growing through its cracks. Just another part of Wonderland's heyday that I missed. 

*Dan Brock, Fragments From The Forks. London, Ontario: London & Middlesex Historical Society, 2011, p, 233.

** Michael Baker & Hilary Bates Neary, eds., London Street Names. Toronto: James Lorimer & Co., 2026, p. 145.

*** Above, p. 146.

**** According to the new historical plaque.

***** Chuck Jones, speech, Wonderland Gardens, June 21, 2026.

Attic Books Turns 50!

My workplace just turned 50!

Yes, Attic Books, and its owner, Marvin Post, have been in business for 50 years. It was June 23, 1976, that Marvin established a used book shop on the second floor of the Premier Trust Building on Richmond Street. Customers had to climb the stairs to the "attic" - hence the name. After moving to Clarence Street and spending a 10-year stint in Parkhill, Marvin reestablished his business on Dundas Street, west of Wellington, in 1996. It's hard to believe he's been at 240 Dundas Street for 30 years now.*

Looking north on Clarence Street from King Street in the 1980s. Note the Attic Books sign on the building at right. The building many of us still call "Bud Gowan's" is across the street on the left.

240 Dundas Street is, of course, much older than Attic Books, being one of downtown London's late-Victorian red-brick commercial buildings. I've noticed yellow brick in the basement, but whether it's from an earlier structure or the builder used cheaper brick in a place no one would see, I can't say. The first structure was only one storey high and about 20 ft. long. 

An early map shows 240 Dundas Street before its rear was extended. The words "Hall Above" refer to Somerset Hall, home of the London Temperance League. Note that Clarence Street was once known as Park Avenue, since it led to Victoria Park.

240 Dundas before its rear extension was built. George Anderson and Mungo Nelles opened their drug store here in 1891. Pity no one saved those gorgeous glass display cases or wooden shelving.

The second and third floors were added in the 1880s. But a bigger renovation took place in 1909 when the rear was extended - massively - by London architect J. M. Moore.** Arts and Crafts elements were added to the facade, making it look a little different from those nearby. An elevator, made by Roelofsen Machine and Tool Co. of Galt, was installed. It still works. Most days. 

Large windows were installed in 1930 by McPhillips & Co., sellers of pianos, radios, and appliances. The original outer windows pivoted like doors, so that pianos could be hoisted to the upper floors for display. The newer replacements still allow lots of light into the upper storeys. 

A Free Press article from 1930 records the grand opening of W. McPhillips Ltd., highlighting the "striking effects" of its new windows. 

Marvin did a little renovating himself over the years, removing 35 lbs. of lead paint from inside the elevator, some wooden toilet tanks, and, most recently, the radiators associated with steam heating. But the store still has tin ceilings, hardwood floors, and a feeling of yesteryear. 

Roberts Holmes used 240 Dundas from 1965 to 1995, selling stationery as well as books. Many people will remember these paper exercise book covers, among other back-to-school supplies.

So why does Attic stay in business when other used bookstores close? Without revealing our business secrets or giving the competition any hints, it has to do with efficient inventory management, diverse revenue streams, and global sales through our website. 

Then there's Marvin, of course. As an entrepreneur, he has an eye for what will sell. And it's not all books. We also have a variety of unusual antiques, maps, prints, cameras, photos, bookends, postcards, pins and buttons, and general oddities. After 50 years, Marvin knows what intrigues customers. A visit to Attic is often like visiting a museum with the added bonus that the artifacts are for sale. 

I love this five-star review a shopper left on Google eight years ago: "Owner is a genuine and authentic bespectacled character with a sage, owlish gaze that is just as likely contemplating eternity as he might be you. One feels their IQ increased by walking into the store, conversing with the staff and being in close vicinity to the owner's aura." 

So there you go. Marvin - and his store - have an aura. And you can't find those just anywhere. 

* For the record, I've only been at Attic for 17 years. How time flies.

** John Mackenzie Moore is the same architect who designed Hotel London, London Life (now Canada Life) and University College at Western. He was also mayor from 1926 to 27. 

Day Trips: Kintore

Yes, I went to Kintore. On purpose. 

Why, you ask, would anyone go to Kintore? Well, I usually pass through this Oxford County community of about 150 people on my way to Stratford. Last time, I noticed a few things I wanted a closer look at but I didn't have time to stop. It occurred to me that one day I should actually go to Kintore and look around. 

This little place at the intersection of Oxford roads 16 and 119 was originally in a township called East Nissouri which in 1975 amalgamated with West Zorra and North Oxford townships to become Zorra Township.  Early pioneers such as the first postmaster, William Murray, were from Kintore, near Aberdeen, Scotland. Hence, the new community took on the name of the old. While the first post office is said to have been in a hotel half a mile north of the intersection, it moved into a store on the northeast corner in 1870. This is what's on the northeast corner now but I have no idea of it's that building.

Kintore was a typical nineteenth-century village with the usual assortment of services. Aside from the general store and post office, it had a blacksmith, shoemaker, flour mill, saw mill, and, according to an 1888 directory, Kintore Cheese Company. It's now typical of our former bustling villages, with numerous homes but few businesses left. 

First I visited the pioneers. They're to be found in two cemeteries on the west edge of "town," right across the road from one another. The Methodist Cemetery was founded on the south side of the road on land donated by Benjamin Swayze in 1861. Not surprisingly, there was once a Methodist church just to the east of the cemetery. 

Visitors must climb up a hill to see the graves of most individuals buried here:

One area, surrounded by trees, has a gate standing on its own, with no fence or hedge surrounding it. I assume the rest was damaged or fell down.

From the top, one can see Kintore Presbyterian Cemetery across the road:

The Presbyterian side of the road is larger, a bit better kept, and has its own website, complete with a short history, here. According to the story, the Bain family owned a farm here before the graveyard was founded. Mr. Bain was putting up the rafters in his log house when one of the timbers fell on him, breaking his neck. The poor fellow was buried here and that's how the spot became a cemetery. (One wonders how many pioneers met their ends in such a manner. In my own family, we have a story about an inept young Irishman who died when the tree he was chopping down fell on him.)

The highlight of Kintore Presbyterian Cemetery is undoubtedly this dignified war memorial:

In November 1920, East Nissouri Township Council (as it then was) met at their hall in Kintore and decided to raise a war memorial dedicated to local men who died in World War I. The statue, carved of Italian marble and mounted on Canadian granite, cost $1,200. Erected by Hayes Brothers of St. Marys, it was unveiled in October 1921. According to the London Free Press on October 29 of that year: "For the first time in the history of the Township of East Nissouri, the whole countryside turned out en masse to attend the unique and impressive celebration of the unveiling of the soldiers' monument at Kintore." The story records that four wounded soldiers stood, one at each corner, and were assisted by the township reeve in removing a flag to unveil the statue. A poignant occasion. 

I never list the names on war memorials, since Tim Laye's wonderful blog records the names from war memorials all across the province and I see no reason to duplicate. Tim's Kintore post includes pictures of every side of this monument, including one featuring the additional names from World War II. 

Kintore Presbyterian Cemetery, its gates, and war memorial, as seen from the road.

Not surprisingly, there was also a Presbyterian congregation in the Kintore neighbourhood. The history of the Methodist and Presbyterian congregations and their various buildings may be found on the website of Kintore Chalmers United Church which is east of the intersection on the north side (the church, I mean, not the website!) In case you think church history is invariably dull, think again. Trinity Methodist Church, built in 1862, came to a dramatic end in 1904 when Sunday School Superintendent W. J. Dunster stood at the front to speak to the children ... and the arch above his head came crashing down, covering the pulpit and platform with plaster, lath and dust. Fortunately, Mr. Dunster was uninjured but the congregation decided to build a new church. But the replacement Trinity, finished in 1906, is gone now too, its bricks used to build a home on a country road nearby.

Kintore Chalmers United Church (below) was built in 1914 as Chalmers Presbyterian. After United Church union Chalmers and Trinity combined to form this congregation, still in existence today. 

Oddly, a piece of the demolished Trinity Methodist is resting against Chalmers' west wall:

If ordinary churches aren't your cup of tea, you may find this intriguing little chapel east of Kintore more to your liking. Local resident Ross Calder built it in 1989 as a spot for quiet reflection. So small that it can only seat a few people at once, it does contain a pulpit, Bible, and several visitors books signed by folks from all over the continent. And yes, it's open.

And now for la pièce de résistance. Back at Kintore's main intersection, on the southeast corner, is McRatterson's Antiques & Oddities, a creepy collection of taxidermy, skulls, vintage medical instruments, ventriloquist dolls, and, um, whatever this is:

Some unusual individuals guard the door:

It just goes to show what you can do with an old variety store:

Now that I know what I was missing on those trips to Stratford, I'll likely stop at Kintore again.

Thanks to Rev. Pirie Mitchell and congregation member Barb Irvine of Chalmers Church.