On the Tube
Stretching 4.6 miles from the southern terminus at Union Station northward to Eglinton Avenue, with 10 stations in between, Toronto’s first subway line opened in 1954. It came as a welcome relief for many of the city’s 700,000 citizens who had often suffered excruciatingly long waits for the lumbering surface streetcars. Today Toronto has a trio of subway lines, totalling 23.9 miles in length and serving 69 stations.
Interestingly, the need for some sort of rapid transit on, over, or under the city’s main street was recognized in the early years of the 20th century. First, there was talk of an elevated railway, followed in 1910 by a proposal for a “tube” (a turn-of-the-century term for subway). This latter idea was even put forward on the 1912 civic election ballot. Championed by mayoral candidate Controller Horatio Hocken (Hocken Avenue), the plan had “tubes” operating under Bay and Terauley streets (the latter the extension of Bay north of Queen), then northeast under what is now Ramsden Park to continue north under Yonge to a terminal at St. Clair Avenue. Both Mr. Hocken and his imaginative, if premature, “tube” proposal were defeated. In a strange twist of municipal job shuffling, the far-sighted Hocken would serve as chief magistrate, anyway, when the man who actually won the job as mayor (Reginald Geary, Geary Avenue) decided mid-term that he would prefer the position of city solicitor. Hocken was appointed mayor for the remainder of 1912 and then formally elected by the people to serve again in 1913.
The Yonge Street subway proposal then lay dormant for almost two decades until the malaise of the Great Depression prompted a series of ideas to get men back to work. One of these ideas involved the construction of what was called a “streetcar subway.” This concept would see 3,000 men dig a 20-foot-wide trench down the middle of Yonge Street at the bottom of which track would be laid over which ordinary streetcars would operate. Bridges would carry cross streets over the trench while pedestrians would be accommodated on street-level sidewalks on either side of the trench. Needless to say, nothing ever came of this plan.
With the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, Canadians put other things out of their collective minds and quickly rushed to help England. Suddenly, there were more important issues than solving the Yonge Street traffic problem. Nevertheless, the Toronto Transportation Commission (later renamed the Toronto Transit Commission) was convinced that downtown traffic congestion would become a major problem in postwar Toronto. In addition to ensuring efficient day-to-day operations at this crucial period in the nation’s history, TTC officials and staff continued to seek possible solutions to the inevitable transit problems facing Toronto in the future.
Under the watchful eye of TTC Inspector Findlay McLeod, Chairman William McBrien takes the controls of the first Yonge subway train on March 30, 1954. McBrien passed away less than three months after this photo was taken. (Telegram photo from the Toronto Sun Archives)
An obvious solution was to free up Yonge Street by removing the streetcars and building that elusive subway. One of the most enthusiastic subway advocates was William Carson McBrien, the chairman of the Toronto Transportation Commission. McBrien, who was born on a farm near Orangeville, Ontario, in 1899, came to Toronto with his family in 1902 and attended Gladstone (now Alexander Muir) and Dovercourt public schools.
The TTC’s McBrien Building looms over one of the original Yonge subway trains. Today two of the cars are on view at the Halton County Radial Railway Museum near Rockwood, Ontario. See www.hcrr.org. (Courtesy Ted Wickson & JBC Visuals)
One of McBrien’s first jobs was that of “call boy” on the floor of the Toronto Stock Exchange. A few years later, having amassed cash assets of $125, he and an older brother opened a hardware store on Bloor Street West. Then, when war was declared on Germany and its allies in 1914, McBrien, like thousands of other young Canadians, joined up and served as a lieutenant in the 95th Battalion and later (and rather fittingly as it would turn out) as a major with the 10th Battalion Canadian Railway Troops. Returning after the war, McBrien served his city first as a member of the Board of Education and then from 1926 to 1929 as a Toronto Harbour commissioner. In 1930 McBrien’s municipal and military experience resulted in City Council appointing the young man as a commissioner of the nine-year-old Toronto Transportation Commission. Three years later McBrien was appointed chairman, an influential position that allowed him to pursue his dream of a Yonge Street subway with additional vigour.
McBrien’s dream began to take shape officially on September 8, 1949, when work commenced at the Yonge and Wellington intersection. Exactly four years, six months, and 25 days later Toronto’s first subway opened. In the interim, however, McBrien became terminally ill. Nevertheless, he had the tenacity not only to attend the inaugural ceremonies but to help drive the first train out of the new Davisville station. Less than three months later William Carson McBrien was dead.
In 1958, to honour this remarkable Torontonian, the TTC’s new head office situated over the Davisville station at Yonge Street and Chaplin Crescent was officially named the McBrien Building.
April 6, 2003
Looking Forward
On the moonless evening of October 9, 1915, 22-year-old Lieutenant Edwin Albert Baker, a member of the 6th Field Company, Royal Canadian Engineers, peered into the darkness in an attempt to get his bearings. He knew he was somewhere near the small Belgian village of Kemmel. He also knew he wasn’t far from the enemy’s front line. Suddenly, a star shell roared into the inky black sky, illuminating the surrounding landscape with a ghostly white light. A split second later a single shot rang out.
Baker heard a hissing sound, then felt a sharp pain that burned across the top of his face. Instinctively, he raised his hands in a delayed protective reaction only to discover that an enemy bullet had struck him in the left eye, crashing through the upper part of his nose to exit near his right eye. Now it wasn’t just the darkness of that cold October night that obscured his vision. The young lieutenant had been blinded, something that by war’s end would befall more than 300 other Canadians fighting in what was described as “the war to end all wars.”
For Lieutenant Eddy Baker his war was over. After initial treatment at the forward base hospital in Camiers, France, he was transferred to the Second General Hospital, the prewar St. Mark’s Ladies’ College on the Thames Embankment in south London. Then it was on to St. Dunstan’s Hostel, a facility for the blind that had been established by Arthur Pearson, a successful newspaper man whose collection of papers would grow to include several of Great Britain’s most prestigious publications, including the Daily Express and Evening Standard.
There was no doubt that the future had changed totally for the young man who, until that fateful night in October at least, had his eyes set on a career in engineering. Remarkably, Baker’s physical loss was to result in an immeasurable gain for the thousands who either were or would become sightless or sight-impaired.
When Baker returned home, he was appalled at the provisions, or lack thereof, that had been made for the sightless Canadian veterans of the Great War. Baker’s tenacity to right this wrong ultimately led to the establishment of the Canadian National Institute for the Blind, an organization that was patterned largely on St. Dunstan’s, with which he had a great affinity, and Britain’s National Institute for the Blind. Officially, the CNIB came into existence on March 30, 1918, with Eddie Baker appointed vice-president. A year later the organization moved into its new headquarters, an ancient house that earlier had been the residence of the Honourable George Brown, a Father of Confederation and founder of the Globe
