Showing posts with label Toronto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Toronto. Show all posts

Thursday, 8 June 2017

Milk Truck

"Toronto passed a law in the 1950's banning milk delivery before 7 am to prevent the disturbance of Torontonian's sleep."








Alex Colville's painting Milk Truck, circa 1959, is a tribute to the small town Maritimes.  A Mercury truck filled with crates of milk (and a dog) and with a boy hanging off of it ready to deliver the goods, drives down the main street of a small town.  In the background is a Simpsons Catalogue Store (a small town wouldn't have merited a full department store).  At the end of the street and the edge of the picture is the water, presumably the Atlantic.

But the milk truck wasn't just a part of Maritime history, but Canadian history.  I remember the milk truck that came down our street every day in Hamilton, Ontario.  I remember the milk box that was built into the side of our bungalow.  I remember the plastic jugs that the milk came in. Our neighbour, Mrs. Pellizari, still ordered her milk in glass bottles.

The milk truck was not always the mode of transportation for milkmen in Canada.  According to The Globe and Mail, "Most Canadians had milk, cream, butter, eggs, bread and even meat delivered -- and all by horse drawn wagon, a vehicle that some Toronto milkmen used until the late 1950's." https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/toronto/when-the-milkman-still-rode-down-torontos-streets/article16073542/.  My Mom, who grew up in Dunbarton, 18 miles east of Toronto, remembers the horse drawn milk carts.  The horses knew the routes so well that they could continue without instruction; at a dead end street they could be counted on to turn around.

By the early 1960's, electric trucks had replaced horsedrawn wagons, but they came with their own set of problems.  They struggled in the cold and needed a pick up truck to climb steep hills.  The vehicle's rooftop refrigeration system often leaked, raining down on the driver.  Its small oil stove did little to keep the milkman warm.

Modern gas trucks soon followed with a proper refrigeration unit.  You would think that the motorized trucks would be much louder than the wagons.  However, it wasn't the rumbling of the truck motor that got the milkmen into trouble but the clinking of the milk bottles.  Toronto passed a law in the 1950's banning milk delivery before 7 am to prevent the disturbance of Torontonian's sleep.  In 1944, Ella Mae Morse had a top ten hit titled Milkman, Keep Those Bottles Quiet.

The death of the milkman and the milk truck came with the advent of modern refrigerators and the proliference of automobiles.  People could keep their milk fresh much longer at home.  They could drive themselves to the store to buy more.  The milk truck, as its predecessor the horse, was put out to pasture.








Monday, 4 January 2016

Everything From Oriental Rugs to Prefabricated Houses

"This catalogue is destined to grow wherever the maple leaf grows, throughout the vast Dominion.  We have the facilities for filling mail orders satisfactorily, no matter how far the letters have to come and the goods have to go." (Timothy Eaton, 1887)



When the Eaton's catalogue first came off the press in 1884, it was a mere 32 pages.  By the 1920's, the catalogue had grown to 500 pages.  In 1890, there were more than 100 clerks filling catalogue orders.  By 1896, Eaton's was sending out 135,000 parcels by post and 74,000 by express.  By 1903, the mail order operation was so large that it had to move to a separate building in Toronto.  Here are some of the products featured in the Eaton's catalogue over its 90 year history:


  • clothing
  • farm implements
  • silverware
  • china
  • prefabricated houses
  • jewelry
  • patterns
  • toys
  • dolls
  • books
  • windmills
  • lamps
  • hats
  • Oriental rugs
  • records
  • crystal
  • train sets
  • appliances
  • luggage
  • sporting goods
  • fishing accessories
  • hair permanent machines
  • accordions
  • pianos
  • guitars
  • phonographs
  • vacuums
  • mattresses
  • medicines
  • stationery
  • cameras
  • seeds
  • bulbs
  • baby carriages
  • women's furs
  • linens
  • drapes
  • blacksmith's tools
  • candy
  • priest's cassocks
  • Klondike miner's clothing


Eaton's Spring Summer 1913, back cover (detail).

Prefabricated Houses in Eaton's Catalogue circa 1913 courtesy http://www.historymuseum.ca/cmc/exhibitions/cpm/catalog/cat2104e.shtml#1222116.

Friday, 1 January 2016

Timothy Eaton: Department Store Genius

"There is hardly a name in Canada, with the possible exception of the Prime Minister, so well know to the people at large as that of Mr. Timothy Eaton." (The Globe, 1905)



As I research for a new picture book that I am writing about Toronto of the 1940's, I realize what an institution Eaton's was in Canada at the time.  Growing up in Toronto, my dad said that my grandma used to buy everything at Eaton's.  It seems like every Torontonian either shopped there or worked there.  I borrowed a copy of my parents' book Eatonians to delve deeper into the department store which touched Canadians for over a century and a quarter. 

First, let's examine the man who started it all, Timothy Eaton, an immigrant from Ireland who came to Canada around the mid 1800's.  He settled in Kirkton, Ontario, where he briefly ran a small business with his brother, James. 

Timothy befriended my great-great grandfather Thomas Tufts, who provided the merchant with horses to transport his goods.  Timothy and Thomas used to make runs together from Kirkton to St. Mary's where Timothy opened his second business, this one a dry goods store. 

By 1869, Timothy set out for the big city of Toronto, which at the time only had 70,000 inhabitants.  It was there that Timothy, along with a staff of four, set up a dry goods store and haberdashery at 178 Yonge Street. 

The dry goods store faired well enough that Timothy opened his first department store at 190 Yonge Street in 1883.  The three-floor store, which included 35 departments, featured a series of firsts including:  the first electric lights in a Canadian business, the first telephone in 1885 and the first elevator in 1886. 

Timothy was the first merchant to offer satisfaction guaranteed or your money refunded.  Shoppers knew that they could trust Eaton's for quality products and service.  Their workers, known as Eatonians, went out of their way to serve their customers courteously and efficiently.  Quality and service kept the customers coming back.

The Eaton's catalogue, also the brainchild of Timothy, allowed Canadians from the rural parts of the country to order goods, those who would not normally have access to an Eaton's store.  Timothy was ahead of his time with his advertising techniques used in the catalogue (http://alinefromlinda.blogspot.ca/2012/10/an-icon-of-canadian-culture.html).

Another first for Timothy was the Santa Claus Parade in 1905, well ahead of its time.  Timothy pulled out all the stops having Santa arrive by helicopter one year and by real reindeer another year. My dad remembers attending the parade every year with my granddad, followed by a visit with Santa at Eaton's Toyland.  Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York City, which didn't debut until 1925, took a page from the Toronto Eaton's Santa Claus Parade. 

In 1905, the Toronto Globe announced:  "There is hardly a name in Canada, with the possible exception of the Prime Minister, so well know to the people at large as that of Mr. Timothy Eaton." Sadly, the founder passed away in 1906.  However, his son son John Craig continued the practices started by his father and the company flourished. 

By 1911, Toronto had grown to about 250,000 inhabitants and Eaton's had 17,500 employees.  By 1919, Timothy's Queen Street store had over 60 acres of floor space.  His large plexiglass window, innovative for the time period, featured displays which attracted window shoppers from the Queen Street West pedestrian crosswalk, one of the busiest in Canada.  The window displays became even more extravagant as Timothy tried to outdo his competitor, Robert Simpson, whose department store was located across the street. 

The 1920's and 1930's saw Eaton's expand across Canada ushering in the Golden Age of the Department Store.  In Toronto, shoppers could dine in the fine restaurant on the 7th floor.  They could be entertained in the auditorium.  Or they could purchase their own entertainment by buying one of the grand pianos from the store.  My dad remembers a visit to the Queen Street Store where, at the tender age of four, he wandered off to the music department.  After several minutes, my horrified grandma discovered him there, tinkering at the keys of a baby grand.

By the 1940's, Toronto's population had risen to almost 1 million people.  The decade saw wartime shortages, but Eaton's still managed to turn a profit.  By the 1960's, Eaton's spread to the suburbs with a new store opening at Yorkdale Shopping Mall.  In the 1970's and 1980's, I remember my granddad purchasing my grandma's favourite perfume each Christmas at Eaton's.

Eaton's started to pull away from the traditions started by its founder, Timothy.  The first sign of trouble was in 1976 when Eaton's launched its last catalogue.  Six years later, the company pulled out of the Santa Claus Parade.  Finally, in 1999, the company folded. The Canadian institution that our great-great grandparents had shopped at had closed its doors. 






Saturday, 27 December 2014

A Green Glass Bowl, A Silver Serving Tray & A Miniature Christmas Tree

This is the day we used to visit my Grandma and Grandad Tufts' house in Toronto to celebrate Christmas. My aunt, uncle and cousins from Ottawa would join us there.  We always looked forward to certain traditions.  In the early years, Grandma would cook the turkey, but when it became too much for her, we went out for dinner.  In the early 1980's we went to the old Leaside Station Restaurant.  Later, we dined at Mother Tucker's and other Toronto eateries.




Grandma's serving tray was similar to this one, but with squared edges rather than rounded ones.  Photo courtesy cloudfront.net.  



After dinner, we would head back to their brick bungalow on Lankin Boulevard in East York where Grandma had prepared treats.  She always set out a green glass bowl filled with potato chips along with a matching dip bowl.  She also prepared 13 different kinds of Christmas cookies stacked on a triple-tiered silver tray:  shortbread, Sweet Marie bars, date pinwheels -- you name it, she made it.

                                 



Beside the fireplace in the rec room sat a miniature Christmas tree, lit up with tiny lights, under which sat gifts for the children and grandchildren.  We also brought presents for Grandma, which she tore into, and Grandad, which he carefully opened with a paring knife.  

After we opened our gifts (although Grandad was still working away on his first one), Grandma would turn off the lights and treat us to a slide show.  For anyone under 30 years old, that's a series of photographs set in cardboard frames, placed into a round tray, and projected onto a screen using a projector.  Grandma would poke fun at herself and her family -- she was the only one who could get away with ribbing my dad.  Grandad would let out an infectious belly laugh with each joke.




Slides courtesy dreamstime.com.


After the slideshow, Grandad would treat us to a rendition of Danny Boy or another song on the upright piano.  On top of the piano, sat a wedding photograph of my parents, young and in love, my mom in her white satin gown and matching gloves, my dad looking dapper in his suit and tie. Opposite their photograph, was one of my aunt and uncle, on their wedding day the following year. My aunt wore a beautiful gown and sparkling tiara, my uncle, a dark suit and thin black tie.

It has been 17 years since Grandad passed away, 21 years for Grandma.  I miss the bungalow.  I miss the green glass chip bowl...the tiered silver tray...the miniature Christmas tree.  I miss Grandma's wit and Grandad's infectious laugh.  Merry Christmas, Grandma and Grandad!



Miniature Christmas tree courtesy pinimg.com.

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Murdoch Mysteries


                              



A man murdered at a dinner at Toronto's Queen's Hotel.  A woman found floating in Toronto Harbour.  A brawl between dockworkers and the Toronto Constabulary.  A protest staged by new suffragettes at Queen's Park.

Today I watched my first episode of Murdoch Mysteries.  I wondered why I didn't start watching it in Season 1 rather than Season 8.  While I usually don't like murder shows, Murdoch focuses more on the mystery.  It is chock full of Canadian history.  Set at the turn of the last century, the Canadian TV series is based on a police detective named William Murdoch who solves crimes in Toronto.  He is engaged to a female doctor, surely one of the province's first, named Julia Ogden.  He is straitlaced and proper, indicative of Victorian times.  Crossing himself when he finds a dead body, Murdoch is a staunch Roman Catholic, something that might preclude him from a top position in the Toronto Constabulary, which is full of Protestants.  

Murdoch's Canada is still a young country, not divided the way the country is today.  You couldn't find British Columbia or Newfoundland on Murdoch's map, but you could find Assiniboine and Athabasca.  It is still very British, the Union Jack flying outside its public institutions.  Murdoch's Canada still enjoys an innocence; it hasn't participated in the First World War.  At the same time, the gang activity down by the Toronto docks shows the dark side of its second biggest city.

I was pleased to discover that much of the Murdoch Mysteries episodes I watched, "On the Waterfront:  Parts I & II", were filmed in my hometown of Hamilton.  The directors found an old warehouse on Sherman Avenue North which served as the sight for much of the drama.  Queen's Park in Toronto, of course, served as a location for the suffragettes' protest.  The old stone building remains much the same as it did in 1893 when it was built.

I am excited about watching more episodes of Murdoch Mysteries.  The 100th episode, due to be aired on October 27, will include a short scene with my friend Marlena Kaesler.  I am grateful to her for letting me know about her guest appearance.  Otherwise, I might never have discovered how interesting the show is.  So, tune in Mondays at 8 pm on CBC.