HIGH PARK…PART OF OUR LIVES
(Thanks to Carl Kirk and the Roncesvales 50’, 60’s 70’s Crowd, Jan. 17, 2019)
also Thanks to the Parkdale / High Park Rotary Club for Memory boards)
alan skeoch
Below are a whole series of memories centred around High Park. If you decide to read them
I hope you will see them as a kind of series of diary entries. For those of you familiar with West
Toronto, I am sure you have your own memories. The memories serve to show just how
important public parks are in the lives of citizens young and old.
THOSE PIGS ARE GOING TO GET US…RUN!
“Run. Alan, run like a son of a bitch”
“I am dad…I am. What about Eric?”
“I got him…you keep running before these goddamn pigs get us.”
“Running, dad…”
“Why the hell didn’t they tend the goddamn fences…how did
the pigs get loose? Get back you little bastards, back…back…Back…or
I’ll kick your goddamn heads from here to kingdom come.”
And so we ran. Dad, carrying Eric. Dad stopped a couple
of tames to kick at the lead pig and, of course, to swear. When dad swore
there was a kind of poetry to it….musical. I remember that so well. Picked
up some of the words myself.
That happened in 1945 at the High Park Zoo in Toronto. Likely the war years
had made maintenance difficult. Pigs are good diggers. Used in France to
find those cherished mushrooms…dig, grub around with their snouts. Now these
were peccaries…sort of small wild pigs with tusks. And I am not sure they
were chasing us as much as trying to escape the confines of the zoo.
John Howard’s cannon is still in place facing south theoretically as a part of the defence of Canada in case of an American invasion.
Eric and I crawled over it while mom took this picture. Dad joined us in the second shot. Perhaps taken around 1945. Might even be
the same day the pigs attacked us but I doubt that since Mom was not along that pig attack day.
That was over 70 years ago but seems like yesterday.
Today, January 17, 2019, Marjorie took me to the High Park pavilion for soup and
coffee and the good fellowship of the Roncesvales 50’S, 60’S, 70’S Crowd…a group of retired
people wedded to Roncesvales Avenue on east side of High Park.
Pictures on the restaurant wall brought back a lot of memories.
This is all that’s left of the Peccary (wild pig) enclosure. The animals in the High Park Zoo in 1945
are long gone. There once were a pair of Long horned cattle, perhaps descendents of the cattle owned by John Howard
…and other animals…camels for instance. Today there are Yaks, Buffaloes, Reindeer, peacocks and those famous little
capybaras. Not as many animals but enough to make the High Park Zoo unusual.
Likely the most currently famous animals at the High Park Zoo are these capybaras, two of whom escaped last year and spent several months
living among the Raccoons, Skunks and coyotes in absolute freedom within the boundaries of High Park. They were eventually captured and
seem to spend the winters in more luxurious quarters somewhere.
GOT MY FIRST RIDE IN A SQUAD CAR AT MINNIE’S SWIMMING POOLS…ARRESTED (sort of arrested that is)
“Hey Marjorie, here are a bunch of pictures of Minnies”
“Minnie’s?”
“The Mineral Baths…swimming pools on north side of High Park”
“Did you swim there?”
“Lots of times, that’s where I got my first ride in a police squad car.”
‘Arrested?”
“Sort of. I suggested to Eric that the keys to the lockers were all
the same keys. Then tried to test my key in the locker next to me.
One of the lifeguards saw me and called the police. What could
i say? Who would believe me? So the cop came and gave me
a heavy lecture then said he would take me home in his cruiser.
I did not want that but had no choice. As we got close to our house
I noticed Grandma sitting on the verandah….
“Officer could you not drop me here, my Grandmother would be
shocked.”
“What did the policeman do?”
“Drove around the corner, let me out and said: ‘Son, don’t do that ever again.”
“Lucky.”
“Don’t ever say the police have no hearts.”
THE HIGH PARK TOBOGGAN RUN
“See that little kid down there with his sled. He’s standing on the old toboggan run…zip right down to Grenadier pond at lightning speed”
“Is that where your dad got smashed up…broken rib cage?”
“yep…right where that little kid is standing. Eric and I got new steel runner sleigh for Christmas in 1944.”
“OK, boys, Let me test the sleigh first. You wait for me at the top of the hill.”
Eric and I waited and waited but dad never returned…half an hour later we slid
our way down the hill and found him in the centre of a crowd wrapped around the
trunk of a tree with his ribs broken. His ribs did not bother us as much as the total
demolition of the brand new sleigh.”
“Marjorie, look at the warning here at the top of the hill”
“Almost as if they park rangers remembered your dad smashed ribs.”
“and the broken sleigh…it was brand new…painted….slick metal runners”
“Think about your dad’s broken ribs.”
“That too…”
THE RONCESVALES 50’s, 60’s, 70’s CROWD
“Alan, this Roncesvales bunch sound really interesting.”
“Who are they?”
“A diverse collection of individuals who cherish Roncesvales Avenue and High Park…”
“Not a sports team or a religious organization or High school alumni or doctors or lawyers?”
“Not at all…just a bunch of people with cherished memories of High Park.”
Above left is Carl Kirk, the proud organizer of the group. He is a Western Tech grad. As organizer he named the group ‘The Roncesvales 50;s, 60’s, and 70’s Group’
And when they meet Carl goes table to table with his wife making sure that each member is made to feel welcome in the High Park Pavillion.
You might be amused by the article being read by a member on the left. She is not admiring the Sunshine girl but looking with interest or scepticism at
an article found in the home of Marilyn and Gerry Holmes. The article startled me. See below.
Marjorie in the red sweater making everyone have a good time sharing outlandish memories
This is Lucy Petriv on the left…one of my first students as a history teacher at Parkdale Collegiate Institute.
Funny thing about teaching is that students never seem to age. I remember Lucy as a keen student, a bit
shy, when she first came to Parkdale. And I think she was in the Grace 9 or 10 class on the day
President John Kennedy was shot. That was the kind of event impossible to wipe from my memory.
I remember the class, the place — a portable Classroom on west side of Close Avenue with classroom
door opening close to a towering elm tree. The class expected me to do something but I was just
as numbed by the assassination as they were.
Marilyn and Gerry Holmes found this old newspaper clipping in their attic. Gerry is President of the Parkdale Collegiate Alumni Association. Both are members
of the Roncesvales 50’s, 60’s sand 70’s Group. They were both part of my support group when at war with Hydro One. Not sure why the Holmes kept the clipping
perhaps because of the Sunshine Girl on the back side. Most likely, however, was because they supported me in my fight with Hydro One. I got a lot of
support from Parkdale people, particularly ex student Glen Coady who knew how to fight the big guys.
THE HYDRO ONE STORY: A CASE OF DAVID AND GOLIATH
About a decade ago I got into a scrap with Hydro One over money. The company took $12,000 out of my bank account with CIBC — got it after two or three attempts.
I don’t know why my bank did not inform me and allowed HyrdrO One to take the money but the bank did. One day my bank balance was good — the next day
it was empty. I thought it was a bank error. “No, sir, Hydro One took the money as a payment.” Why $12,000? Hydroi One claimed I owed them that money
for the use of electricity on our family farm. I had paid every bill — automatically withdrawn from my account. Naturally I was incensed and wanted my money back.
Hydro One refused arguing the meter reading which they had not read for years and years entitled them to the money. After neglect for years they finally did a reading.
That was their argument. I was made to
appear like some kind of crook, I had all my back bills. They had no documents arguing it “would cost to much money to get records from the Iron Mountain’ whatever
that meant. The fight went on for weeks and became a public relations embarrassment to Hydro One. I wanted my money back. Felt I had been robbed.
To quell the uproar an executive from Hydro One eventually called me.
“How do I know who you are? I am going to check you out and call you back”
“Hello, checked you out. You are a vice president with Hydro One and probably want a meeting.
Well I am not coming down to your goddamned lawyer infested office with its credenza, marble fittings and mahogany desk… with private secretary. If we are going to meet, we’ll do so
on my terms just like Gary Cooper did in the film High Noon. Meet you at Loblaws coffee shop down near the Ferry Docks. Alone. Do not bring lawyers.”
And so we met and an arrangement was made. A verbal arrangement. No lawyers. A hand shake. I did not win completely but did get my $12,000 back
which was needed for a planned trip to see our son and family in England. I agreed that the meter reading at the farm must be correct. Hydro One agreed
that they were guilty of not reading the meter for years and just making up electric charges which I had paid regularly.”
That’s a long story. Fighting big corporations is not easy. Winning is almost impossible. We made a kind of 50/50 deal regarding back payments.
One thing I do remember clearly. That executive was earning $650,000 that year. Public information. I was receiving my teachers pension of around
$3,000 a month. A case of David and Goliath. Exhausting but the public support for my case was exhilarating. Mostly so. There are still some people
who say “Alan, you didn’t pay your bills I notice in the newspaper.’
Eventually the pile of documents in this fight measured 3” thick. Not easy. Thankfully my dad’s
schooling in the use of swear words were particularly useful.
SOME S.O.B. STOLE MY NEW BOOTS
In the 1920’s there was a cheap hotel at the corner of Roncesvales and Queen Street.
Dad told Eric snd I a wonderful story that ended with him flopping one of the hotel rooms.
“I was coming back to Ontario from a Harvest Excursion in Saskatchewan. The whole
goddamn summer I had been pitching sheaves onto hay wagons or into the mouths
of threshing machines. Loved the work really. Stayed in a flop house — maybe a whore house as well —
in Moosejaw at times. Late in fall when weather turned cold and snow was sweeping the prairies I
decided to come home on the train. Played a bit of poker. Train was full of gjuys like me.
Eventually I fell asleep in my seat. Took off my boots. When I woke up my boots were gone. New boots
bought from Harvest money. We pulled into the Parkdale Staton and I was barefoot.
I had to run through the snow and slush all the way to Roncesvales where I booked in
for the night. Bitch of a run.”
DRIFTER SET IT ON FIRE…MAYBE BECAUSE HE WAS HUNGRY
Sunnyside railway staton in 1920’s with a steam train passing through. The staton
was at the foot of Roncesvales Avenue. Classy brick station that overlooked the old
Sunnyside Amusement Park which had a special walkway over the train tracks.
After the station was demolished the site seemed barren. it needed another station
and Gary Duncan along with Librarian Rita —— of the Parkdale Library came up with the
bright idea moving the old Parkdale Railway Station to this site. They raised a pile
of money and got a moving company with hydraulic jacks to lift the Parkdale wooden
station then move it along King Street on quiet Sunday morning. Quite an event as
many electricity lines had to be lifted and the Street closed. But the job was a success
and for a short time the Parkdale Station sat where the Sunnyside Station once sat.
Short time? yes, very short. Someone set the station on fire one Saturday or Sunday evening.
Apparently a drifter had gained access through a boarded up window and he was
roasting a dog in the old station. The roasting fire got out of hand and in no time the
whole staton was ablaze. Was that true? Not sure. The dog roasting story passed through
a number of hands before it got to me.
OBSOLETE 19TH CENTRY SCHOONERS BURNED FOR ENTERTAINMENT
Sunnyside beach between Roncesvales and the Humber River was a great attraction during the early 20rh century. A massive cement breaakwall had been
built creating a kind of long lagoon that still exists. Today swimmers are serviced by Sunnyside Swimming Pool with its art deco pavilion but in the
early years the beach itself was one of the best swimming places in Toronto. Note the old schooner anchored off the beach. Lake Ontario had a lot
of obsolete schooners around 1900 and even in the 1930’s. Some were used as stonehookers to lever up slabs of sedimentary rock to use as foundations
for the fancy buildings being constructed in the city. The slabs of stone bashed up the schooners rather badly. Eventually they were barely capable of floating.
Some were hauled down to Sunnyside Beach to be used a summer spectacles. The wrecks were filled with straw laced with kerosene then healed out through
the break walls to deep water and set alight. They burned so bright that they obscured the summer moon. Entertainment for Torontonians on summer evenings. I wonder if the hulls of these wrecks
can still be seen by divers swimming out from Sunnyside beach. Mom and dad were there I think…watcher as history burned.
HIGH PARK CURLING CLUB — CURLING IN A STORM ON GRENADIER POND
“Hey Marjorie, here is whole collage of pictures of the High Park Curling club. Cost $10,500 for three lots of land when South Roncesvales was being developed.
The High Park ruling club remains one the iconic curling clubs in Canada. A stunning place.
CURLING ON GRENADIER POND: RUSSIAN ARMY FIELD CAP AND BUFFALO COAT
“Remember when we celebrated the High Park Curling Club centennial by clearing some of the ice on Grenadier pond and had curling
teams from across Ontario try to curl there. I say ‘try’ because it was almost impossible…snow, cracks in the ice, ridges, footprints, alcohol, buffalo coats
…all got in the way.”
“What hat are you wearing?”
“That’s a Russian Army field hat that Kevin gave me when he was teaching in Slovakia…complete with hammer and cycle.”
“And the coat?”
“An ancien buffalo coat we bought at a farm sale…made in the 1880’s when the great herds of buffalo were being systematically
slaughtered across western Canada. Buffalo skin coats were cheap. Most farmer had one. And a few have survived which also
applies to the buffalo.”
I think Al White should get credit for the success of this daredevil adventure. And lots of others. This picture gives a good indicatIon of what conditions on the ice were really like. A snowstorm developed
making throwing stones extremely difficult. We had a solution. Mike Dent, second from left in the group picture was stretched across the snow covered ice and then pulled down
the length of the sheet. He became a kind of Human Zamboni. The organizer of our team was Brad Schneller, pictured on the right. The skip was a famous curler, from Hamilton, who
I seem to remember brought a hollow handled curling broom filled with a good shot of scotch. Never got a taste so that could be just my imagination at work.
SNAILS AS BIG AS OUR FISTS
Grenadier Pond in late fall. Lots of memories here as well. Around 1948 or 1949, Eric and I discovered the rather neglected swamps and duck ponds on the eastern side
of High Park contained some very interesting life forms. Huge Japanese snails…some almost a big as our fists. We decided to catch a few and did so. I seem to think
we sold them for 25 cents each to a local pet story in what is now Bloor West Village. I feel guilty about that.
DEEP WATER SEARCH FOR CANNONS BENEATH GRENADIER POND
Much later in life our family had a well orchestrated Grenadier Pond adventure. At the time I was creating documentary radio programs for CBC Radio Noon with host
Christopher Thomas and producer Mike Smee.
“Let’s do a program on the legend of Grenadier Pond, Christopher.”
“Legend?”
“According to the legend a number of British Grenadiers fled westward when the American invaded Fort Your in the War of 1812. Winter time so the pond
was frozen but not thick enough to hold the British cannons…the ice broke and down they went cannons and soldiers.”
“Do you think the legend is based on fact, Alan?”
“No, but it makes a good story and would make a great radio program.”
“I’ll clear the idea with the powers that be here at CBC and arrange for a rowboat. We can do
the program from the centre of Grenadier pond.”
“Let’s make it really dramatic. I can get our sons, Kevin and Andrew, as divers. Kevin with snorkel and mask…Andrew
with a proper diving suit and air tank.”
“OK, Boys, we are a search crew…sort of amateur archaeologists.”
“Looking for?”
“Rumour has it that a bunch of soldiers drowned here … went down with their cannons when the ice split a hundred years ago.”
“Skeletons below, Dad?”
“I doubt it but maybe we can find the snout of an old cannon or a rifle or a buckle.”
“Kevin, your job is to find the best spot to dive…and Andrew you go down and see if you can find a cannon.”
It was quite a good radio program I thought. Thought that until Andrew surfaced after a long time beneath our row boat.
“Find anything, Andrew?”
“Not a thing Dad, I shoved my whole arm deep in the mud…right up to my shoulder…felt nothing but old twigs and guck.”
Obviously the radio program was sort of silly…fun but silly. When Andrew spoke I got a chill and realized it was also dangerous.
What if he got his hand stuck?
So much for time travelling. The memories flowed through my head on January 17 as we enjoyed the fellowship of new friends and one ex student.
The time between 1945 and 2018 may seem long to some readers. But to me it was only yesterday. Credit for triggering these thoughts must go
to the High Park / Parkdale Rotary Club whose photo collages decorate the walls of the High Park Pavillion dining room. I belonged to that club for
several years and was impressed by the public spirit of these men and women. A small club that has had a deep and glorious effect on the
High Park community. And of course credit to Marjorie and Carl, Lucy, Marlyn, Gerry…so many others.
A lifetime in High Park…today on the left…yesterday on the right. “He’s not heavy, he’s my brother”
alan skeoch
January 17, 2019
BATTLE ON HIGH PARK FOOTBALL FIELD
One other High Park story comes to mind. A little bizarre.
High Park has a large area cleared for sports…a baseball field and a football field…even tennis courts.
About 1965 or 1970, Sam Markou and I were coaching the Junior Football team at Parkdale Collegiate and we
arranged an exhibition game against an east Toronto football team. Our site was the football field at the north
end of High Park. Everything seemed to be going well in the first half of the fame except our quarterback John
Wolowiec got hid hard a couple of times. Hitting each other is just a natural part of the game of football. That;s
why we had all that gear…helmet, shoulder pads, knee pads, padded pants and jock straps. What Sam and I did
not know was that John Wolowiec’s mother did not know about John playing football. Apparently he had a slight
brain concussion in some other sport years earlier. Some of the boys were aware of that fact. Sam and I were
totally unaware as John never said a word to us. To get the guys up for the game we gave them a pep talk
that involved real macho lingo. “Want you to go out there and hit them hard, boys. Show them that Parkdale
boys have guts. No cry baby stuff…etc. etc.”
The game deteriorated after John got knocked down a couple of times. Our boys were really playing rough…hitting hard
on the line…bursting through to get the other quarter back…tackling as if in physical combat. Seemed like
good football to Sam and I. Told the boys that at the half time.
Then the other teams bus pulled up and the whole opposition team began to board the bus. The game was only
half over.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked the other coach.
“We don’t play teams like yours…we play teams with moral principles.”
As they loaded our boys formed a kind of gauntlet. Very embarrassing.
“What happened boys”
“They hit Wolowiec too much…just getting even.”
Later Sam and I were given hell by John’s mother who blamed us for recruiting him.
John was a great quarterback. Too bad about he concussion. We never knew.
Maybe we were not the best football coaches the world had ever seen. High Park memories…lots of them…
this football experience was not one of our best memories.
alan skeoch
january 17, 2019