Winton, the company president who travelled to the Steel City from his Cleveland plant to conclude the deal in person. It’s been suggested that had Moodie made his acquisition one day sooner he would have been the purchaser of the first gas-powered car on the continent.
An awesome array of new vehicles awaits the crowds that will visit the 1929 edition of the National Motor Show of Canada held on the two floors of Simpson’s Arcadian Court in downtown Toronto.
Nevertheless, Moodie’s new car had cost him $1,000, but as usual there was still the duty to be paid. The customs people classified the strange vehicle as a “carriage” on which the duty was 35 percent. Moodie insisted that the car should be regarded as a “locomotive.” Moodie eventually won his case (the last in history to do so) thereby saving himself 100 bucks. Moodie didn’t keep the car very long, selling it to Torontonian Dr. Perry Doolittle, who then claimed the distinction of being the purchaser of Canada’s first used car.
Doolittle, who is buried in Toronto’s Mount Pleasant Cemetery, is an interesting person in his own right. He became a major player in the development of both cars and highways throughout the Dominion and was one of the founders of what we know today as the Canadian Automobile Association. He was also the first person (with friend Edward Flickenger) to drive a vehicle (a 1926 Model T Ford) from coast to coast under its own power, although for part of the trip flanged steel wheels replaced the car’s rubber tires to allow the vehicle to travel over railway tracks through otherwise inaccessible areas.
As the years went by, an ever-increasing number of vehicles from a wide variety of manufacturers began to appear on city streets, and it wasn’t long before impromptu “car shows” erupted on the side of the road as curious crowds gathered around the latest models. Every so often, local automobile dealers filled their showrooms with different models they had the rights to sell and then advertised the event as a “car show.” However, the first time that an “all-models” event was held, not just in Toronto but anywhere in the entire country, occurred on March 31, 1906, when the Canadian Automobile and Boat Show opened in the covered rink in the rear of the old Granite Club on Church Street (a portion of which still stands as 519 Church Street).
Other Toronto venues for automobile shows over the ensuing years were the Armouries on University Avenue (now the site of the Court House) and the Transportation (destroyed by fire in 1974) and Horticultural (still standing) buildings at the Canadian National Exhibition. So important were these shows that in 1929 a building dedicated specifically to cars and trucks was built at the east end of the CNE grounds. It was here that the newest models were first seen by the Canadian public attending the fall fair. Unfortunately, when the CNE decided to move its show dates from early September to late August, the only vehicles available for display were the previous year’s models. As this was of little use to the dealers or of interest to the public, the last of the once extremely popular CNE car shows was held in 1967.
One of the most unusual venues ever selected for a car show in Toronto was the one chosen for the February 1929 edition of the National Motor Show of Canada. Its exhibition hall was none other than Simpson’s magnificent two-storey Arcadian Court on the eighth and ninth floors of the store’s recently completed Bay Street addition. To get the cars into place, they had to be hoisted up the Richmond Street side of the building and hauled in through the windows. No doubt quite a sight. After the car show, the Arcadian Court would be advertised as the largest restaurant in a department store anywhere in the world.
February 9, 2003
Attitude Adjustment
It’s funny how our values change with the passage of time. Attitudes towards the preservation of historic structures are a case in point. I can recall that during the initial discussions back in 1965 about something called the Eaton Centre many people believed that this futuristic $260-million project was just too important to Toronto, and to the future of its downtown, to allow anything, anything, to jeopardize its completion. And since the original version of the Centre was to occupy the entire Queen, Bay, Dundas, Yonge parcel of land, the demolition of virtually every building standing on that property was pretty much a foregone conclusion regardless of any historic significance any of those structures might have had.
For sure, all the shops on the west side of Yonge from Dundas to Queen would go except for the old Woolworth store at the Yonge and Queen corner. That wasn’t because of any specific historical significance. No, it was because the site was owned by McMaster University as a result of an ancient will drawn up by a member of the Bilton family who didn’t like Timothy Eaton very much. As a result, the site was off-limits to anyone connected with the Eatons. I wonder if that will is still in force.
The future of several other buildings in what was being referred to as the “superblock,” including the Salvation Army headquarters, the historic 1847 Holy Trinity Anglican Church, and a couple of the church’s neighbouring buildings, also appeared to be in jeopardy. But there was one structure on the site that many Torontonians regarded as untouchable. That was Toronto’s “Old” City Hall, a building that had stood at the northeast corner of Queen and Bay since 1899 (although back then the stretch of Bay north of Queen was still called Terauley).
“Old” City Hall was once regarded as one of the finest municipal buildings on the continent, and the decision by City Council not to turn it over to the developers was one of the main reasons for the failure of that first Eaton Centre proposal. In fact, recognizing how important the old building was to the outcome of the discussions, the developers even went as far as to suggest they would keep the 300-foot-high clock tower and the Cenotaph as gestures of goodwill. But, nope, it was the preservation of the entire building or the deal was off. Sentiment and fiscal conflicts won the day, and on May 18, 1967, Eaton Centre Number 1 was officially declared dead.
Some of the original carved sandstone gargoyles near the top of the tower are visible in this circa 1910 photo of today’s “Old” City Hall.
In early 1971, plans for a revised version of the Eaton Centre were presented to city officials. With the old expression “once bitten, twice shy” in mind, this time the modified design didn’t come anywhere near “Old” City Hall. But this proposal was also to face intensive scrutiny before the first building permits were issued. Finally, after more than 12 years of discussions, Phase 1A, consisting of 150 shops and a new main store for Eaton’s, Toronto’s new (and revised) Eaton Centre opened on February 10, 1977. The rest of the project, referred to as Phase 1B, opened on August 8, 1979. Since then the Centre has had several “facelifts” as it continues to be one of Toronto’s top attractions.
Now, here’s the most interesting part of the long, long Eaton Centre saga. When the original scheme for the Centre was proposed in 1965, it looked as if “Old” City Hall was doomed. But the rally cry went out, and for a variety of reasons, including those of financial and sentimental merit, the ancient landmark was spared. Not only spared, but the city’s change in attitude towards its few remaining historic treasures has resulted in a long-term, multimillion-dollar plan being initiated to ensure that “Old” City Hall remains a part of the city landscape well into the future.
By the time this postcard view was published, the gargoyles had been removed.
Under the direction of City of Toronto officials, Ventin Group (Toronto), Inc., is in the process of supervising the restoration of much of the badly weathered brick and stones (and related masonry work). Included in the project is the installation of new copper roofing and something that
