Dwelling on the Positive

Since most heritage commentary dwells on the negative - that is, yet another neglected building in danger of demolition - it's refreshing to occasionally point out a heritage preservation success story. One of these is the so-called Kenross House at the northeast corner of Waterloo and Piccadilly. The Queen Anne style mansion was built about 1908 for Charles J. Somerville, mayor of London in 1918-19. Architectural highlights include half-timbering, a round tower, wide verandah, and the Dutch gable pictured at left. Owners Timothy and Natalie Tattersall won an ACO-HLF Heritage Award in 2009 for restoring this building. An especially nice touch is the small garden on the corner with a plaque dedicated to Jean Ann Hills, a former owner who passed away in 2007.

Martyr Shrines

There are a few tributes in London to the Tolpuddle Martyrs. The plaque at left is in Labour Memorial Park, a small riverside green space at York and Thames streets. It accompanies a large work of art entitled "Good Hands" by David Bobier and Leslie Putnam.

The so-called Tolpuddle Martyrs were six farm labourers who lived in Tolpuddle, Dorsetshire (as Dorset was often called at the time) in the 1830s. When the seven shillings a week they earned was not enough money to support themselves and their families, they went on strike. All were arrested, found guilty, and transported to Australia in March 1834. Public indignation was so great over this that they were pardoned two years later and returned to England in 1837. The event is still regarded as a turning point in labour laws in the UK.

Upon their return, five of the six men, along with their families, emigrated to Upper Canada and settled near London. George Loveless, wife Elizabeth and family pioneered on what is now Fanshawe Park Road. Siloam Cemetery on Fanshawe Park Road East contains headstones for George Loveless and fellow-martyr Thomas Standfield. In commemoration, there's a memorial plaque outside the Siloam Cemetery gate.

Another monument to these men is the Tolpuddle Housing Co-Op on Adelaide Street. And the London and District Labour Council annually presents its Tolpuddle Memorial Award to an activist who has contributed extensively to labour and social causes in the community. One suspects George and his friends would approve.

London's Last Brick Pavement

This little-used patch of Adelaide Street near the CNR tracks contains London's last stretch of brick paving. The second last section, on Talbot Street south of York, was ripped up late in the summer of 1979.  Just a quaint reminder of the London of yesteryear.

Those Were The Days...

A postcard from circa 1971 or later
shows Reg Cooper Square (or Centennial Square) next to City Hall. Looking a bit like a Venetian piazza, the square has a fountain, trees in the planters, and a weed-free look. Gosh, there are people sitting in the square, not just passing through. The postcard was published by Victor Aziz Photography, a long-time London business.

Survey Says...

What's this cute little rock? Someone's gravestone? Cairn? Milestone? Halloween decoration? Actually it's none of the above. It's an Ordnance Survey stone erected to mark the northeast corner of the military lands where British troops were stationed up until 1868. The Ordnance lands were passed over to the City of London in 1873 to become Victoria Park, the Fair Grounds, and rows upon rows of housing that today makes up part of London's residential core. The stone stands in a little patch of shrubbery on the southwest corner of Waterloo Street and Kenneth Avenue, just on the edge of Piccadilly Park. An explanatory plaque nearby was erected by the City and London & Middlesex Historical Society  Just one of those small but delightful historical items one comes across when prowling about the city on foot.

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.