constructed by his Queen’s Rangers. This road (it was hardly that, more of a pathway) would serve as a relatively quick route to be taken by British troops stationed in forts located along the upper lakes to come the defence of the communities scattered along the southern border of the young province if and when troops from south of that border decided it was time to invade the province. (Actually, in Simcoe’s mind it wasn’t if an attack would come, but rather when.)
Yonge Street looking north over Queen Street, 1941. The numerous American flags on the old Eaton’s store would indicate a special welcome to visitors from south of the border. Note also that right turns were permitted at this busy corner, as was parking on Yonge Street north of Queen. The Peter Witt “trains” would be replaced by the country’s first subway in 1954.
To this end, Simcoe’s Rangers were ordered to cut a path through the forest and dense brush north of York, the site he had selected on the north shore of Lake Ontario to be the site of a naval shipyard. The plan was to have this pathway connect with watercourses not far from today’s Holland Landing. Then, by using navigable lakes and rivers and Simcoe’s new road, troops and weapons could get from the north down to the scene of any trouble with relative speed.
While that helps explain one of the reasons Yonge Street was laid out the way it was (another was its importance as a trading route for furs and other necessities), the road didn’t originally penetrate into the downtown part of the city that we know today and incorporate the stretch that’s part of the ongoing Celebrate Yonge festival. In fact, for many years swamps and other hindrances to the south of the Second Concession (now Bloor Street) forced travellers to veer east of the projected line of Yonge and enter the young community closer to its main business area near the King and Church street intersection. The name given to Toronto Street demonstrates that fact.
Sir George Yonge (1731–1812) was a colleague of John Graves Simcoe before the latter was appointed our province’s first lieutenant governor. Yonge was serving as the Secretary for War in King George III’s cabinet when Simcoe honoured him with the name of what would become his new community’s main street.
When the section south of Bloor was finally opened up there was another problem. South of today’s Yonge and Queen intersection, the rambling tannery yard of pioneer industrialist Jesse Ketchum straddled Yonge Street’s future right-of-way. Many more years would pass before Yonge Street would make its way to the water’s edge.
The Ill-Fated Ex of 1974
August 26, 2012
When Exhibition time comes around each year, those of us who grew up in or near the city will no doubt reflect on the numerous childhood memories of our visits to the fair each summer. So what if the arrival of the Exhibition meant that going back to school wasn’t far off? At least we’d have some book covers to wrap around the speller and some pencils to draw cars and airplanes in the margins. And with any luck maybe we’d be handed a wooden ruler with inches marked on it and a narrow steel edge to make straight lines in our five-cent Hilroy scribblers (Hilroy was actually Roy Hill, a Torontonian who started the company even before I was a kid). For sure all that free stuff would certainly help get us through the next ten months.
While I have fond memories of going to the Ex on the old Bathurst streetcar with my brother, mother, and aunt Peggy (dad and Uncle Ken weren’t, I’m sorry to say, big fans of the fair … something about having to work for a living), my most vivid memories are reserved for those five years I was one of the devoted group of people that puts together the annual fair. In spite of my education in the field of chemistry, the fair’s then general manager Dave Garrick was pretty sure that my love of Toronto history would be helpful in getting things ready for the CNE’s Centennial Exhibition in 1978.
When I joined the staff several months before the start of the 1974 CNE I was given a few responsibilities to get my feet wet. After what happened that first year I began to wonder whether Dave was having second thoughts about what I had brought with me from my time with the Ontario Water Resources Commission (now the Ministry of the Environment).
My memories of the 1974 edition of the CNE are these: first, there was no TTC service whatsoever during the fair’s run of twenty days. It would become the longest strike in TTC history. Through the media the general manager suggested people wanting to go to the Ex anyway should cross their arms in the shape of an “X” hoping that drivers headed that way would give them a lift. It worked. Attendance was only 13 percent off 1973 figures.
Then, one afternoon I was asked to retrieve motorcycle daredevil Evel Knievel’s wife from the Royal York Hotel where they were staying awaiting the daredevil’s performance. He was to attempt to jump thirteen large Mack trucks lined up side by side in front of the old Grandstand.
Needless to say, with the transit strike in full force the drive along Front Street to the hotel and back was, shall I say, a challenge, a challenge that soon got the better of me when at the Front and Spadina intersection my car’s radiator let go and I was forced to retreat to the Esso station that used to be on the northeast corner. Suddenly, the aforementioned Mrs. Knievel exited the car and when last seen was walking north on Spadina headed for I know not where. When I phoned the office and tried to explain the situation to her husband his words back to me were few and totally unprintable in this family newspaper. Suffice it to say that my good wishes for a successful jump over those thirteen trucks were badly compromised.
And to top it off, when the fair was about to enter its second week, one of the CNE’s largest exhibit buildings was destroyed by a fire that broke out late in the evening of August 23. Built in 1909 directly south of the Dufferin gate, it served for many years as the CNE’s Transportation Building, where cars, trucks, and airplanes were on display before an amazed public. Later it was the Dance Pavilion (featuring Guy Lombardo and Rudy Vallée and the like) and eventually home to the most modern adding machines, typewriters, and other fascinating business products. I can hear the guy now: “Go ahead kids, give them a try, just don’t break them or your dad’ll have to pay the repair bill.”
For 1974 it served as home to our feature country, Spain. For a time, anyway. The old building was full of artifacts, souvenir items, photos, murals, costumes, musical scores, and the like, all of which were lost in the conflagration.
What baggage had I brought to the Ex? Only time would tell. Suffice it to say they kept me around for another five years, then it was off to Canada’s Wonderland.
This photo was taken soon after the CNE’s new Ontario Government Building (left of view, now the Liberty Grand) opened to the crowds attending the 1926 Exhibition. In the background is one of the towers of the 1912 British Governments Building (later Arts, Crafts and Hobbies, now Medieval Times). The large structure to the right of the photo was completed in 1909. During my first year on staff at the CNE it was the site of the Spanish Pavilion. But not for long. A little over a week into the fair the old building was destroyed by fire.
CNE’s Back to the Future
September 2, 2012
During its earliest years, what we now know as the Canadian National Exhibition (or simply the CNE or, even easier, the Ex) was the place to see the latest inventions. It didn’t matter whether those new creations were for the farm (after all, the Ex had its genesis in the early 1800s as an agricultural fair), for industry (from 1879 until 1912 it was known as the Toronto Industrial Exhibition),
