Street is now held in trust for the citizens of Ontario by the Ontario Heritage Foundation.
Edwin Albert Baker taps the cornerstone of the new CNIB Headquarters on Bayview Avenue into place on November 11, 1954.
The CNIB remained at Pearson Hall (so named in honour of Baker’s long-time friend and mentor) for many years, and even though several structural additions were made to the old building and space was rented in six other Toronto-area buildings, it soon became obvious that what had evolved over the years into a busy organization with nationwide responsibilities now needed to consolidate its activities, hopefully in a modern new headquarters.
A 15-acre site, part of the former “Divadale” estate of the mysterious Colonel Flanagan (it’s reported that Diva was his wife’s first name) and located just south of the new Sunnybrook Military Hospital on north Bayview Avenue, was selected, despite its remoteness from the city, which caused some initial concern.
As for the funds to build the CNIB’s new headquarters, Baker sought out his old friend Lewis Miller Wood, a successful financier who had always been there in the past when the CNIB ran into money problems. Together the two were able to convince D.W. Ambridge, president of Abitibi Power and Paper Company, to head up a fund-raising team that quickly amassed over $3 million for the new facility.
The cornerstone of what would be called Bakerwood (in honour of the indefatigable Eddie Baker and his pal Lew) was tapped into place by Lieutenant Colonel Edwin A. Baker, OBE, MC, Croix-de-Guerre, on Remembrance Day 1954. The new building was officially opened on April 16, 1956, by Vincent Massey, the governor general of the day.
The wrecker’s hoarding surrounds Bakerwood as demolition of the old CNIB building is about to begin in March 2003.
Incidentally, the location of this sparkling new headquarters high above what had become, in the short span of time since the site was originally selected, a busy traffic artery would certainly present a problem for its many visually challenged visitors. The answer was either traffic lights or an overhead pedestrian bridge. As far as the Toronto and York Roads Commission was concerned, traffic lights were out of the question. That left the bridge. But there was no money to build it. This time it was the Atkinson Foundation to the rescue, with $60,000 for the bridge (of special design, fixed at one end, and movable at the other to allow for expansion and contraction) plus a similar amount to furnish the new building’s library and auditorium.
April 13, 2003
* Pearson Hall on St. George Street served the CNIB well for 37 years, Bakerwood for another 47. Nevertheless, demolition of the 1956 headquarters was completed in 2003, and a newer building, funded primarily through the sale of 12 acres of the original CNIB property, officially opened on Bayview Avenue in June 2005. It’s barrier-free in its design and serves as the CNIB’s national and Ontario divisions and Toronto District Office. There’s also been an expansion of one of the organization’s most popular features — its library.
The Big, Big Smoke
On April 20, 1904, thousands of disbelieving Torontonians, having heard rumours that the very heart of their beloved city of 226,365 souls had been destroyed by fire, quietly made their way downtown, fearful of what they would find. In an era well before the advent of radio, television, or Internet reporting, citizens had to rely on the local newspaper (and most of those stories were hours or days old), word of mouth from neighbours, or stories relayed over the telephone for updates on events unfolding around them. Without confirmation through one of these methods, no sane person could ever believe that such a conflagration had destroyed the city’s commercial heart. They had to see it for themselves.
Approaching the business area south of King and west of Yonge streets, Torontonians encountered a view that was truly unbelievable. Virtually every building on Bay, Wellington, and Front streets, right down to the warehouses and docks at the water’s edge, had been visited by the “fire fiend,” with most succumbing to the roaring flames. The once-busy streets and sidewalks were littered with fallen brick, while thick acrid smoke and the smell of charred wood filled the air. This wasn’t Toronto; it was Hell.
Subsequent insurance company and fire department investigations placed the number of destroyed or severely damaged buildings at almost 125, with monetary losses in excess of $10 million. Worse still, 6,000 people were out of work. Could Toronto survive this setback? Many believed it wouldn’t be long before Toronto’s rival at the head of the lake, Hamilton, would assume the role of new commercial heart of the province.
Bay Street looking north from Wellington towards City Hall, 1904.
Front Street looking west across Yonge, Bank of Montreal (now the Hockey Hall of Fame) on the right, 1904.
Those same investigations traced the source of the fire to the Currie Neckwear Company factory on the north side of Wellington Street a few doors west of the Bay Street corner. Up on the top floor a hot iron had been left too close to a pile of rags. Soon after the City Hall clock had chimed 8:00 p.m. that cold, blustery April 19 evening, flames erupted and quickly blew out nearby windows. Seeking fresh air, the flames leaped out of those windows and, caught by the wind, swept into adjacent buildings. Soon all four buildings at the Bay and Wellington corner were in flames.
And the fire just kept spreading. Low water pressure in the mains (a problem that City Council had refused to correct, even though downtown Toronto had been visited by a trio of major conflagrations over the previous decade) meant that the task facing the firefighters was an almost impossible one. They would do their best, but just how far the flames would spread was anybody’s guess. As the fire grew in intensity and more buildings came crashing down, it was obvious the city could use some help. Calls went out, and soon firemen and equipment began arriving on railway flatcars from Hamilton, Brantford, Niagara Falls, and Buffalo. Even the nearby communities of Kew Beach, Toronto Junction, and East Toronto (all still autonomous entities), as small as they were, came to the big city’s assistance.
Firemen and equipment in use at the time of the Great Toronto Fire of 1904.
