London Fire Department: The First 150 Years

No. 4 Fire Hall, 807 Colborne St. 
 Built 1909 in abstract Italianate style with 
simplified Tuscan Tower. Still in use and apparently haunted. 

2023 marks the 150th anniversary of the London Fire Department. To celebrate, LFD turned its Horton Street headquarters into a museum display of historical artifacts highlighting a century and a half of firefighting.

It was on April 1, 1873 that London's first permanent, paid fire brigade was created under Chief Thomas Wastie. At first it was known as Forest City Fire Company.

Of course, fires and firefighting took place long before that. London's earliest recorded fire was in November 1832, when the Dickinson blacksmith shop was destroyed, along with all its tools. In those days, all London residents were legally required to own a bucket for use in putting out fires in homes and businesses. Not that a bucket did much good, as the Dickinsons learned. 

The earliest record of London's Volunteer Fire Company is November 16, 1841, when the town's primitive engine was used to fight a chimney blaze in Dennis O'Brien's brick block on the north side of Dundas west of Ridout. That was approximately where Museum London is today. 

In 1844 volunteers received their first hand pump fire engine. Apparently it wasn't much better than a garden sprinkler. It was certainly no match for the Great Fire of London on April 13, 1845. The disaster destroyed nearly 30 acres of property and more than 100 homes and businesses. Afterwards, the town prohibited building wooden houses in the core. While that may have helped, fire could damage brick buildings too. 

Former Fire Station No. 3, 160 Bruce St.
Built 1890-91. Used until 1975. Now apartments.

Firefighting equipment gradually improved. The first steam fire engine arrived in 1867. An aerial ladder was purchased in 1895, attached to a 75-foot horse-drawn truck requiring a tiller operator to steer the rear wheels. Once at the fire, the ladder was raised by cranks operated by six men. 

The city's first fire station was built in 1847 on the north side of what became Carling Street between Richmond and Talbot. Before that, the fire engine was stored on the property of one of the volunteers. That first station was demolished in 1880 to become the site of a new police station. In the meantime, a newer firemen's hall and engine house was built in 1853 on King Street. That was the site of the Central Fire Hall until 1957.

The Fire Department's horses were an important part of the team from 1873 on. Before that, the hand pumpers were drawn by volunteer firemen on tow ropes. Either that or a team of horses had to be commandeered from a passing farmer or merchant. The first motorized fire truck arrived in London in 1912 - but unfortunately collided with a train at the William Street crossing in 1913.  The LFD's last horse, "Doc," retired in about 1928 at age 32. 

Firefighting was always dangerous work. The earliest known firefighting fatality in London was December 17, 1855 when 22-year-old John Eskdale became trapped in the burning home of Alfred Vennor at Talbot and Horton and was burned to death. 

Another disaster was the Westman Hardware Fire of 1908. The fire engulfed the whole Cronyn block on the south side of Dundas Street between Richmond and Talbot and took the lives of Fire Chief Lawrence Clark and two others. Fire Station No. 6 at Wonderland and Oxford is named after Chief Clark. 

Today, of course, firefighters still risk their lives. But now they're more likely to die of cancer related to breathing in the chemicals that burn in our homes and businesses. Twenty-first century firemen - and women - are just as brave as ever.

Long Live The Black Walnut!

Painting of the Black Walnut, Wortley Village on a greeting card by local artist Sheri Cowan. This and other Sheri Cowan greeting cards featuring London landmarks are available at Attic Books, 240 Dundas Street, London.

Sheri is donating $20 from the sale of each of her 10"x10" archival prints to the Black Walnut Fire Fund. The prints, $70 each, are scanned and printed locally at Colour by Schubert. Anyone interested can find Sheri Cowan Art on Facebook and Instagram or email her directly at sherimcowan99@gmail.com. 

Update, August 2023: Black Walnut has revealed their plan to rebuild. Their new building will look "strikingly similar" to what was lost due to arson in April. 

The End of Elgin Hall

This is Elgin Hall - a 173-year-old pre-Confederation home in the village of Mount Elgin, Southwest Oxford, once the home of the first MP for Oxford County, Ebenezer Vining Bodwell. Bodwell was an MP in Sir John A. Macdonald’s government as well as a superintendent of the Welland Canal. 

For some reason, a company called Mount Elgin Development is building cookie-cutter homes around the site. And needs to demolish the old home to do so. Once he's demolished Elgin Hall, the developer has offered to build a new apartment structure on the site with a façade that would mimic the “style” of the old house using the existing building materials. Oh goody! Another replica like the Sir Adam Beck Manor in London (see No. 4 here). The developer also states the building is in poor shape. Of course it is. Guess who let it get that way? 

Last year a group of concerned individuals trying to save the building felt they’d made some progress towards designating the structure and selling it. But the developer refused an offer of more than a million dollars from Garth Turner, who has won awards for heritage restoration projects from Heritage Canada, among other organizations. Turner is a great-grandson of Bodwell. 

Southwest Oxford Council met yesterday, April 18, to discuss placing a heritage designation on Elgin Hall. Unfortunately, they voted 4-3 to not grant heritage designation. Despite the fact that the building meets four of the criteria required for heritage designation (only two are needed) the developer can now apply for a demolition permit and is expected to do so. 

My pictures were taken last year. I assume the deterioration is even more advanced at this point.

Attractive recessed front doorway.

Advanced deterioration to rear wing. At least the front might have been preserved. 

Note 6 over 6 wooden sash.  

Update, May 2, 2023: The developer smashed the house to bits yesterday. To add insult to injury, the demolition company chose to make jokes about the building on their website.  

Our architecture just doesn't get any respect. At the very least this home could have been deconstructed, not demolished, so that its windows, bricks, and interior fixtures could be used in another old building being restored.

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).