The Forest City - Or Is It?

The City of London says it needs to remove big trees in Old North and some folks in the neighbourhood aren't happy about it. 

Much needed repairs to sewers and water lines have led to a need to cut down trees, mainly around Regent Street and Fraser Avenue. Originally the city meant to remove 41 trees. Then the number was reduced to 38. The trees in question have been marked with white rings. 

Old North neighbours have fought City Hall, protesting the tree removal, and signs have appeared on the marked trees. These folks aren't just treehuggers. While I don't live at Regent and Fraser, I do live in Old North and I understand that part of the charm of our neighbourhood is the mature trees. The removal of a large number could drastically change the atmosphere of the whole area. 

Of course, the City of London isn't just being mean to trees, regardless of what some Old North kiddies might think. This interview with a city staffer explains the need for infrastructure renewal and the risks involved in not removing the trees. Note: She states that London removed 579 trees in 2022 but planted 8,874, over half of which were on city streets, not parks. The situation is obviously complex. The city does plant saplings as well as pruning and chopping mature trees.  

All this makes me think about the continued use of the nickname "Forest City." Not only is it used in the above linked article, but by many London businesses, and - ahem - in the name of my own blog, because I can't resist using it either. Heck, even the city logo features a tree. Could there be some irony here? Should the Forest City really be cutting down trees? 

The earliest known use of the term was on January 24, 1856, when the London Free Press and Daily Western Advertiser referred to London as "This City of the Forest." The first organization to use the name was Forest City Lodge, No. 38, IOOF, founded in 1857.* Since then, the name has appeared everywhere - on base ball clubs, colleges, churches, festivals, a Thames River steamboat, even a cannabis shop. But why? Is it really because of our lovely forest canopy?

Most people assume the term is meant as a compliment - see here and here. Although here it says the British government coined the term to make fun of John Graves Simcoe. Personally, I think historian Orlo Miller was correct when he stated there is a "widespread misunderstanding of the origin of the city's nickname, the Forest City. It was so called not because of the tree-lined streets, but because for many years it inhabited a cleared space in the encompassing forest."** Simcoe may have wanted his "New London on the Thames" to be the provincial capital but settlers in surrounding areas were amused by the fact that there was nothing here but trees. Our nickname was a pioneer joke. 

That being the case, maybe Londoners should get over their Forest City obsession. Maybe too many residents can't see the forest for the trees? 

I'd like to see a compromise between updating infrastructure and saving Old North's ambiance. After all, we do need toilets as well as trees. An April 13 City Hall Open House suggested such an arrangement might be possible. A pilot project could potentially spare an additional 16 trees, leaving only 22 to be chopped. Let's hope London and its tree-loving residents can find some middle ground - with trees on it, of course. 

A worse change in the look of "Old" North is when earlier homes are demolished to make way for inappropriate infill. As an example, a house similar in size to the building at left was recently razed and replaced with the one on the right. There's more than one way to destroy a neighbourhood's atmosphere. 

* Dan Brock, Fragments From The Forks. London & Middlesex Historical Society, 2011 pp. 49, 52. 

** Orlo Miller, London 200: An Illustrated History. London Chamber of Commerce, 1992, p. 118. 

Those Nameless Ancestors

Old photographs provide an interesting gateway to the past, showing us the fashions, hairstyles, homes, workplaces and communities of yesteryear. My family never threw anything out, so I'm fortunate to have old albums and loose photos featuring my relatives and the places they lived. I'm even luckier to have most of them labeled so I know who and where they are with a rough idea of the date. 

As an example, here's a photo of 117 McGregor Avenue, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, identified by a relative at bottom. (It might have been neater to write on the rear but the photo can always be cropped if necessary.) I was aware that my great-grandparents, Robert and Fanny Moore, lived at this address in the Soo, but wouldn't have known this was the house if their granddaughter hadn't added the address sometime in the 1980s or 90s. Of course, nowadays you can also search an address on Google Street View, which I've done, so I know the house is still standing.

Incidentally, according to family tradition, this was the first house in the Soo to have indoor plumbing. Not surprising, since Robert was in the hardware business and would have stocked the supplies himself. 

Like many people, Robert and Fanny's daughter Helen (my grandmother) arranged photos in an album. The page below shows how she dated the pictures and identified some of the places. Her daughter added another caption in later years to identify Helen's sister, Kathleen, in the bottom centre photo.

"Doc Shepherd," by the way, appears to be a young lady in a fake beard. No doubt there's a story there, now lost.

From the other side of my family I have this nice picture of a lady posing in her backyard jungle:

The rear is labeled like this:

The original caption gives the date and address in Toronto. Years later, my other grandmother added the name of her mother-in-law, realizing that "Mother" might not be useful to everyone in years to come.

And that, of course, is the reason many older photos are unlabeled. At the time, everyone knew who the person in the picture was, so why bother identifying her? 

I work in a place where we have older photos and albums for sale. Sadly, many of the subjects are unnamed. We call them Instant Ancestors. You can make them yours if you want to. 

Here's a nice bespectacled young lady, photographed by Sanders, a studio in London, Ontario. Cooper and Sanders were in business from 1896 to 1909 at 403 Richmond Street. In later years, Edgar J. Sanders appears to have been in business on his own. That might help to date the photo, but doesn't ID the young woman.

Someone's cute toddler poses in the studio of W. Farmer, cor. King & McNab streets. The intersection suggests the photographer worked in Hamilton, Ontario at the intersection of King and what's now spelled MacNab. No one identified Junior. 

A dapper 19th-century gent, top hat in hand, phony arch and piano as backdrop. No identifying marks whatsoever, not even the photographer. 

Not sure what to do with old photos? Here are a few ideas:

• Want the photos but the album is in rough shape? Arrange them into fresh new scrapbooks, perhaps with added documents, captions and old letters for context. Pictures can be arranged chronologically, by person, or thematically eg. vacations, weddings. Make it a craft project. Kids might like to help and they'll learn about their family in the process. 
• Scan the photos into your computer so you can email them and post them online. But don't throw out the originals in case future generations have trouble accessing the format they're saved in. 
• Show off your ancestors on Ancestry or some other website. Or build your own. Long lost relatives may be delighted to find pictures they don't have themselves.
• Donate the album or photos to a local archives. Photos of your grandpa's store or grandma's Women's Institute branch might be a useful contribution to local history. 
• If you have really unusual subject material, do your homework before tossing out the pics. Not interested in your crazy uncle's albums of Great Lakes freighters? Someone into shipping history might like to have those. Your cousin took lots of photos of the drive-in theatre he worked at in the '50s? Someone out there might be researching that very thing.
• Frame some of the photos and display them in your home. Great conversation pieces.
• Make sure relatives know you have family photos. Even younger generations who think they aren't interested in long-ago dead people may catch the genealogy bug in later years. 
• Turn photos into gifts for hard-to-buy-for relatives. Pictures can be added to calendars, mugs, and T-shirts to make them more fun.

But most importantly, label your photos for future generations. If you're not sure who the people are, show them to your oldest relative. He or she will likely enjoy sharing what they know. I had my grandmother identify all the loose photos sitting in a box so I'd know who the people were.

Eventually, all of us will be no more than faces in old photographs. Let's keep our ancestors alive through their pictures, just as we hope future generations will remember us. 

Adaptive Reuse in Carlisle, North Middlesex

 

The Presbyterian Church Heritage Centre (PCHC) is moving into Carlisle United Church, in the hamlet of Carlisle, near Ailsa Craig in Middlesex County.*

Formerly the National Presbyterian Museum, the PCHC was located in St. John's Presbyterian, Toronto, from 2002 to 2021. But that church is currently being renovated into condominiums, forcing the Heritage Centre to find a new home. The new location will be this quaint country church built in 1879. 

Like many congregations, the Carlisle church started out in an earlier building. Carlisle Presbyterian Church was founded in 1858 in a more primitive structure, replaced as soon as funds became available. The congregation joined the United Church of Canada in 1925.

But recently, like many rural congregations in the 21st century, Carlisle United has been struggling. With 19 members left in the congregation, continued use of the building was becoming impossible. Having the PCHC move in has brought new life to these folks, even though they've had to worship in the church basement. The former upstairs sanctuary will be renovated into an exhibit hall. 

Temporary basement sanctuary

The move of the PCHC hasn't been easy or cheap. A fundraising campaign was necessary to increase the load-bearing capacity of the Carlisle church's sanctuary floor from 40 lbs. per sq. ft. to 100 lbs. per sq. ft. This involved removing the ceiling in the downstairs hall so the contractors could add the necessary reinforcement joists. But the pandemic allowed the necessary work to proceed easily, since there was no weekly worship service. 

The renovated building will include a replica chapel of the 1850s, an enlarged version of what was in the earlier museum in Toronto. Accommodating about 30 people, the replica can be used by the Carlisle congregation and for occasional weddings. The only condition is that, when visitors tour, it will be necessary to hide the church's large electronic organ. After all, no instrument of any kind was present in the strict services of yesteryear. So the plans will have to include a method of disguising that organ.

Additionally, thanks to the PCHC moving in, the church building will have a few mod cons it's never had before: air conditioning, a security system, and a phone, for the first time in its 164 year history!

Pews are currently stored in the future site of a replica pioneer sanctuary. 

Magnificent memorial windows in what will become the upstairs exhibit hall. 

The PCHC is not scheduled to open until 2024. But I have a question already. Where will visitors stay overnight or eat? Carlisle is a bit off the beaten track.  

Victoria Inn. Note Middlesex Heritage Trail sign out front. 

What I'd like to see is the old Victoria Inn, also in Carlisle, become a B&B to accommodate visitors to the PCHC. Built in 1855 by Joseph and William Haskett, this example of an early Ontario inn once featured a verandah across the front, complete with hitching posts for horses. The building has never had running water, central heating, hydro, or phone. A building more authentic than this you simply can't get. 

New owners are renovating the interior. ( I don't encourage trespassing but when a building is this close to the road it's hard to resist peaking through the windows.) I haven't heard they're planning a B&B. They probably aren't. But I can't help thinking what a fine heritage inn this would make. 

Who knows? With enough attractions this "ghost town" might be back on the map. Carlisle was one of the most important villages in north Middlesex in pioneer days, with a population of 200 or more. Settler George Shipley of Carlisle, England, named it after his home town. Building a dam across nearby Linn Creek, Shipley soon constructed a flour mill and other businesses were quick to follow. When a post office opened in 1853, it had to be named Falkirk, there being a Carlisle elsewhere already. Old maps use either name, depending on the mapmaker's point of view. The village declined after the railroads - both the Grand Trunk and the London, Huron & Bruce - bypassed it. Today, the community is mainly residential and very quiet. A good place for an afternoon drive to "get away from it all." 

* A big thank you to Curator Ian Mason for information and to local resident Doug Carmichael, member of the Advisory Committee for the PCHC, for the tour of the church interior. 

Update, December 19: Latest word is that the PCHC has received a $100,000 grant from The Presbyterian Church in Canada to finish the project. 

Day Trips: Port Burwell

Not everyone thinks of Port Burwell when choosing an interesting day trip. But not only does this Lake Erie village have a nice, sandy stretch of beach, it also has history. Which is why a friend and I made the trip from London this summer. 

First, why is it called Port Burwell? Because Col. Mahlon Burwell (1783-1846) surveyed the land here, completing the job in 1810-11. While dividing Bayham and Malahide townships into lots for settlers, he selected a block of land in Bayham for himself at the site that is now the village. Eventually, about 1830, he surveyed his plot into streets and building lots as well. He likely recognized that the nearby Big Otter Creek and harbour would provide a useful water route for landlocked communities to the north. In time, Port Burwell became a shipbuilding and fishing harbour and an export point for lumber and farm produce from surrounding townships. It wasn't really until the 1920s, in a more leisurely age, that the port became a summertime tourist destination, known for its beach. 

Burwell family graves at Trinity Anglican.

Members of the Burwell family continued to live here after Mahlon's death, his son Leonidas (1818-79) taking over the family interests in 1842 and making the village his home. Many family graves can be found at historic Trinity Anglican Church, built in the village in 1836 and still standing today. However, Mahlon and his wife Sarah are buried at Burwell's Corners, Dunwich Township (Fingal Line and Iona Road). 

The church itself, at Strachan and Pitt streets, is a simple early Gothic Revival building, paid for with financial assistance from Mahlon himself. Strachan Street would be named after The Venerable John Strachan, Archdeacon of York, who preached the first sermon at Trinity. 

The village is also the location of the Port Burwell Marine Museum and Historic Lighthouse. The museum pays tribute to the village's history as a shipbuilding centre. A better than average community museum, it's filled with artifacts from Lake Erie shipwrecks, as well as anchors, foghorns, and other nautical stuff. There's even the wheelhouse from a Great Lakes freighter. 

The Port Burwell Historic Lighthouse is across the street from the museum. Completed in 1840 and restored by Mennonite craftsmen in 1986, it is now one of Canada's oldest lighthouses of completely wooden construction. I'm unclear on how much of the original wood had to be replaced in the restoration, but it still looks authentic. The 45 foot high octagonal structure was deactivated in 1963 but if you're energetic you can still climb 56 steep steps to experience the view from the top. (I didn't, being out of shape.)

Recently I heard a rumour that the Municipality of Bayham was planning alterations to the lighthouse in another upcoming restoration. Word on the street was that the clapboard would be replaced with Hardie cement board and the wooden door with fiberglass. However, reaching out to Bayham Municipal Council for more information, I was told that staff will be consulting architects qualified in historical structures to identify appropriate options. 

[Update: April 2023: Bayham Township is undertaking a stabilization and restoration project on the lighthouse. Much needed since the road to the beach had to be closed in recent months, just in case the structure toppled over in high winds. Work is being conducted by Heritage Restoration Inc. of Stouffville.]

Port Burwell's other nautical exhibit is the HMCS Ojibwa, a retired Canadian Navy Cold War submarine moved here in November 2012. The sub has nothing to do with the lake port, of course, but organizers hoped it would complement the marine museum and lighthouse. Villagers may have hoped that droves of tourists would arrive to tour the sub and, while there, would eat at a village restaurant, buy ice cream, shop, attend the local theatre ... you get the picture. I'm not sure if the dreamed-of crowds actually came but the Ojibwa is still there, open during summer for tours, so tour it we did.  I'm sorry it took me so many years to get around to it. 

HMCS Ojibwa

Ian, our tour guide, and the man responsible for relocating the sub to Port Burwell, is well qualified to explain the technical aspects of this vessel that served from 1965 to 1998. He also explained its human side, what it was like living on board with 60 other crew members. I expected to feel claustrophobic and was pleased to discover I wasn't. But then, it was just the two of us plus our guide. Hats off to those who could live in such close quarters with dozens of shipmates for weeks at a time without losing their minds! And if you think you're not interested in the military, you might be surprised how much you'll learn that's of interest. My respect for the Navy increased and it wasn't too shabby to begin with. 

Elgin County Tourism calls Port Burwell the "Jewel of Erie's North Shore" that "really knows how to live it up!" This is propaganda, of course; even Port Stanley is more exciting. Still, our small towns and villages need all the support they can get. Port Burwell deserves more than just an A for Effort. Its attractions are worth seeing. Visit Mahlon's place when you get a chance. 

Port Burwell postcard, dated 1909 by a former owner (The blogger's collection).

The Most Haunting of Former Villages

Southwold Earthworks, site of an Attawandaron village ca. AD 1450-1550.

One of the eeriest places in Elgin County is the so-called Southwold Earthworks, the remains of a fortified Attawandaron* village of about 800 or 900 people inhabited ca. 1450 to 1550. Located at 7930 Iona Road near Fingal, the spot has been a National Historic Site since 1923. 

The Attawandaron, an Iroquoian-speaking people French explorers called the Neutrals, built a cluster of 18 or more longhouses here of various sizes. The longhouses were multi-unit dwellings housing extended families related by a common maternal ancestor. Archaeologists have determined this in two excavations, the first in 1935 and the second, more scientific investigation, in 1976. The latter dig was performed by London's Museum of Indian Archaeology as the Museum of Ontario Archaeology was then called.

The village was surrounded by a double row of low earth mounds, foundations for a double ring of upright pickets or palisades. The first palisade might have been built earlier, the site being strengthened by a second wall for improved defenses later. 

It's unusual for an Attawandaron village to be located on a flat plain with no defensive advantages. There's also no archaeological evidence that the site was ever attacked. Tradition within the local Oneida community suggests that this was really a ceremonial site, only enclosed by a palisade so that activities taking place in the village would not be visible to people outside. The site might have been a seasonal place of pilgrimage, not a year-round village.

My thoughts: 1) Just because there was no attack does not mean the inhabitants did not live in fear of one. 2) A double palisade seems like overkill for a ceremonial site. 3) Some members of the Indigenous community may prefer to interpret their ancestors' behaviour as uniformly peaceful and spiritual, instead of warlike and aggressive. Despite opinions to the contrary, I still suspect the inhabitants of this village lived in fear of their neighbours. 

Regardless of the site's controversy, it's still a nice place to take a picnic and walk your dog. There are also several interpretive plaques describing the lifeways of the long-ago inhabitants. There's no admission charge since it's basically a park. But bear in  mind the Earthworks are a long walk from the road, so this isn't a site for the physically challenged. And it might be a bit creepy if you're alone. 

It's also not a site for people who can't picture in their minds the sizable village that once stood here. It's an archaeological site, folks. If you wish to see an actual recreation of a village, visit Ska-Nah-Doht or the Museum of Ontario Archaeology. 

But if you have a powerful imagination and you close your eyes in this quiet spot, you can easily visualize the men, women, and children who worked and played in the longhouses.  

* I've chosen to spell the word like Attawandron Road, location of London, Ontario's Museum of Ontario Archaeology. You may also see it spelled Attiwandaron, Attiwandaronk, and Attarawandon. 

Military Site Returns to Nature

In September a friend and I visited the site of the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan's No. 4 Bombing & Gunnery School, near Fingal, Elgin County. No. 4 BGS was operated by the RCAF from November 25, 1940 to February 17, 1945. Over 4,000 aircrew from Canada, Britain, New Zealand, and Australia graduated from No. 4 BGS as well as another 2,000 aircrew from other countries, such as the US, Norway and France. Except for Air Gunners, all other aircrew trades received initial advanced training elsewhere and finished their training at bombing and gunnery schools. Air Gunners received all their advanced training at these schools. The RCAF continued operations at this particular site under a number of names until closure in 1961 when the Province of Ontario took over the property. 

Site of former hangars. 

The area is now the Fingal Wildlife Management Area, managed by the Ministry of Natural Resources and Elgin  County Stewardship Council. Nature is busily reclaiming the property, helped by plantings of trees and shrubs. Trails now cover the site of the six steel-framed hangars, large drill hall, and 50 other buildings, including canteens, repair shops, recreational facilities, and three hard-surfaced runways. A series of ponds have been developed and photographic signage added to show visitors what buildings stood where. A trail guide with colour map is available, listing walking trails and common trees. 

My friend brought along an older leaflet identifying the locations of various buildings, far more useful if one's interest in the site is historical, not arboreal. Not sure if that booklet is still available to the public. 

 

Walking trails show traces of former pavement.

 The majority of visitors may be walking dogs, bird     watching, or even hunting on designated days in the   southern section of the property. Still, for those   interested in military history - or any history - the site is an interesting tribute to the men and women who lived and worked there in the '40s. 

 I have to say the site deserves a little more   maintenance. Some interpretive signs are becoming   hard to read and foliage needs cutting back so they can  be read more easily. For example, a memorial plaque  was erected in 1993 in memory of the RCAF personnel   who served here (see top left). The reverse side lists  casualties, those who died on duty at No. 4, mainly in  training accidents. It's a little hard to read at the  moment, since a nearby bush is taking over. The text of  the plaque is listed here.

 When the generation who served in the war - or even   remember it as children - are gone, will this site be   preserved? With a possible recession looming on our   horizon, will funding be available for replacement signs? Or will this site literally go to the dogs?

An interesting sign on one of the walking trails in need of cleaning or possible replacement. 

Ian Carmichael Pond photographed from nearby viewing stand.

Remains of incinerators where military documents were burned. 

Tombstone Tourism: North Nissouri United Church

One of the most scenic locations in Middlesex is at 24058 Fairview Road, north of Cherry Grove in the former West Nissouri Township, part of Thames Centre since 2001. The spot is North Nissouri United Church and its surrounding cemetery. 

First of all, let's establish what "Nissouri" means. Some residents believe it's a corruption of the phrase "nigh Zorra," meaning "next to Zorra." Why? Because East Nissouri Township in Oxford County was situated next to Zorra Township.* Forget it. Nissouri means something like "gurgling waters" in an Indigenous language. When the former township was first settled by Europeans, there were many running streams emptying into the nearby Thames. 

Land for this church and cemetery was donated by George Black in 1844, a decade before the church was built. The church was constructed from heavy oak timbers supplied by local farms and has rounded windows. It was veneered with brick in the 1880s by John Thompson. The first minister was Robert Hall who served for twenty-one years as a circuit preacher in the neighbourhood. By the 1860s, there was a forty-member congregation. 

Cement block Sunday School room at rear.

Originally Presbyterian, the church joined the United Church of Canada in 1925 after church members voted in favour of church union. The church was lit by coal and Coleman lamps before hydro was installed in 1938. A drive shed once to the north of the building is now gone. 

The congregation celebrated its 150th anniversary in 2004 but disbanded in the summer of 2021. One assumes attendance had dropped to far fewer than forty. No word yet on what happens to the building now.

But the church is perched on a hill surrounded by a cemetery of one and three quarter acres overlooking Gregory Creek valley. Now inactive, the cemetery is said to have more than 800 burials, the first known interment being that of Hannah Horton, local midwife, in 1844. I didn't find a grave marker with her name but there can be no doubt there are many more graves than gravestones. This is true of most older cemeteries. Many families could not afford a marker and some markers have been lost. 

The gently-sloping graveyard reminds me of the macabre poem "The Coffins" by southwestern Ontario poet James Reaney (1926-2008): 

These coffins are submarines

That will sail beneath the slopes 

Of grey-green old graveyards.

One white lone sailor to each

Submarine that navigates 

The wormy seas of earth.

With shrouds for uniforms

Stitched by weeping tailors

These bony sailors

Shall sail deep field and morass

Without periscope or compass

They'll only dimly know

That someday they must flow

Into the final harbour

On some high gray shore

Where the Lord shall weigh

Men's wicked souls on Doomsday.**

A poignant reminder of the harshness of pioneer life:
"To The Memory of George McDonald Who died Sept. 4th 1852 Aged 35 Years. And His Wife Mary, Who died Sept. 21, 1853 Ae. 24 yrs." 

*East Nissouri, West Zorra, and North Oxford townships were amalgamated into  a new township called Zorra in 1975.

**James Reaney, The Red Heart. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1949. p. 60.