A geographic history of a North York neighbourhood

Note: This article is written without any prior affiliation to or contextual knowledge of the history of the Highland Memory Gardens or the family farms of North York. Their inclusion is as a reference tool to show change.

This is Highland Memory Gardens. It is located near the intersection of Don Mills and Steeles Avenues, in Toronto’s north end. The development of this cemetery and its surrounding area is an interesting look into the creation and evolution of this inner suburbs.

This is the area around Highland Memory Gardens in 1860. Historically, the area consisted of lot 21 (at today’s Finch Avenue) to lot 25 (at Steeles Avenue) of the Third Concession East of Yonge Street (Leslie Street), which were generally 200-acre lots extending to the Fourth Concession East (Woodbine Avenue/Highway 404). Notably absent is a middle road (now Don Mills Road) between the two concession roads. The cemetery itself is located along the east side of the top half lot 23 and the bottom half of lot 24.

As seen this 1878 map, the area was part of the larger community of L’Amoreaux (also spelled L’Amaroux). The village crossed both sides of the North York-Scaborough townline, with its spine running along Finch Avenue and lots extending to Steeles and Sheppard Avenue.

The L’Amoreaux Post Office stood just west of Victoria Park Avenue on the south side of a lost section of Finch Avenue (it would be re-aligned through the townline in the 1970s). Further west, a Methodist Church and cemetery, a Temperance Hall, and School House stood near Leslie Street.

Cutting diagonally through the large block was a creek, now named Duncan Creek. It ran from near Leslie and Steeles (where its namesake’s farming lots stood) to its terminus near Victoria Park and Finch. It does not to seem to have been a major source of industry, compared to the adjacent Don River which hosted a number of mills. In the 1916 map below, the creek slinks its away across lots, although its course is a bit off compared to the earlier maps and later aerial photographs.

This 1954 aerial photograph is a visual of the area and tells us that even by this decade, the area still maintained its largely rural character. A more precise view of the creek is visible along with the greenery running along its course.

For the area plot that would become the Highland Memory Gardens, 1953 was last year it existed as farm fields. A key reference point is the small roadway leading from Woodbine Avenue to a farm near the banks of Duncan Creek. This roadway was the divisor between lots 23 and 24.

The cemetery found a home to the west of Woodbine Avenue, with an entrance leading off the street. The initial layout of the cemetery is a circular path. Some “offshooting” paths seem to laid out as well.

By 1956, an “arm” shoots off the southern half of the main circle, looping west to connect to the main roadway.

By the close of the decade, the layout of the cemetery increased more with off shoots on the north of the main circle.

In 1962, more acreage is added westward and a pond on the north east corner of the plot seems to be more completed. The lawns of the ground look to be landscaped. A tiny building, potentially the administrative centre, appears at the top of the lot.

The midpoint of the decade saw few geographic changes, but the notable start of residential development to the west of the creek.

By 1968, the cemetery expands again to the west. It would be its last major territorial expansion. The subdivision to the west of the creek appears complete, clearly stopping at the property line midway between Woodbine and Leslie.

By the start of the 1970s, development starts to grow to the south of the cemetery, replacing the longtime farm buildings. An early Don Mills Road begins to curl in from the the south as well as an early McNiccol Avenue slinks from west to east.

By 1973, the farm buildings near the creek are razed as the land is about to be filled in by housing. The creek itself disappears under the subdivision to the south of the cemetery. The land north of the cemetery also sees new subdivisions.

By 1976, Don Mills Road is completed, seemingly bending through the area to provide a second access point to the cemetery. Townhouses are built between the creek and Don Mills Road.

By the 1980s, Highland Memory Gardens took on the form seen today. Highway 404 was completed in the late 1970s replacing the former Woodbine Avenue right of way. With that, the main entrance to the cemetery shifted to Don Mills Road with the old entrance off Woodbine being built over. Several other buildings would later fill the northeast corner.

Today, Highland Memory Gardens is part of the Hillcrest Village neighbourhood of Toronto, an area roughly encompassed by Steeles Avenue, Finch Avenue, Leslie Street, and Victoria Park Avenue.

The Zion Church and Schoolhouse still stand today as 19th century reminders, but references to the area as L’Amoreaux are non-existent today. The post office and its street are gone, with the Old Finch Avenue closed in 1977 and Pawnee Avenue roughly replacing it as the two Finches were connected. (The L’Amoreaux name does live on in Scarborough, of course.)

There is a trail and parkland which follows Duncan Creek; the Seneca Newnham Campus, founded in the late 1960s, now runs over a buried portion of the creek. The property lines of the 40-acre Highland Memory Gardens reference the old concession lots, offering a forgotten link to the past.

“Know Agincourt, but Their Maps Ignore Toronto”: A Quick History of The Agincourt Magnetic Observatory

When one thinks of the history of Scarborough, the intersection of Midland Avenue and the 401 might not be the first thought. However, a site that once stood there for more the half the 20th century literally put the local community on the international scientific map. This was the Agincourt Magnetic Observatory.

The story of the Agincourt Magnetic Observatory begins not in Scarborough, but on the grounds of King’s College in downtown Toronto in 1840. The school became the University of Toronto in 1850. Contrary to the dense district of today, the university was then sparsely populated – in other words, perfect conditions to minimize interference. The University granted 2.5 acres for a site that was located on the southwest side of today’s King’s College Circle.

The Globe described the laboratory:

“The first observatory was of logs, rough cast on the outside and plastered on the inside; it was completed during the summer of 1840 and observations were begun in September.”
The Globe, October 1, 1898

The second observatory was built in the autumn of 1853, replacing the wooden observatory on the same site. It was built of stone and the nails and fastenings were of copper and zinc.

In 1892, Toronto’s growing infrastructure began to spell the beginning of the end for the observatory. To be sure, as early as 1876, new structures on the university grounds began to impact the observatory, but it was nothing like the electric railway to come. Streetcars were electrified, first beginning with the Church Street line opened on August 17, 1892, and then the College Street line only steps from the building. Instead of recording magnetic changes, the observatory recorded the starting and stoppings of the trolleys. In 1896, Sir Frederick Stupart, the director at the observatory, took up the issue with the government. There would be no action until a report was received from a committee of meteorologists visiting from England that year. This report recommended the centre be moved far away — to Scarborough.

The observatory was relocated just south of the Agincourt Village centre at the current intersection of Midland Avenue and Sheppard Avenue where a Presbyterian Church and nearby Canadian National and Canadian Pacific stations stood. It was perfect in that no electric railway lines existed – at least not in seven miles and there was little prospect of any lines for many years (the railway did not interfere either). The observatory stood in a 4-acre field at the north end of the southern half of lot 16 (Midland Avenue) and Concession II (Ellesmere Avenue), belonging to the Forfar family. It was constructed over the summer of 1898 and opened in September. The first observations were made on September 10 and by the end of the month, all instruments had been moved from Toronto to the new site.

This Observatory was described in The Globe:

“…[It] consists of two parts, a circular stone collar nineteen feet in diameter, the walls two feet in thickness, the floor concrete and the roof covered with felt and gravel, in which on stone piers sunk in concrete to a depth of six feet below the floor are place the self-recording photographic instruments, namely, the declinometer for recording changes in the direction of the magnetic needle and the bifilar and vertical force instrument, for registering respectively changes in the horizontal and vertical components of the earth’s magnetism: above ground and connected with the cellar by a flight of steps is an erection which divided into two portions, in the larger of which absolute magnetic determinations will be made, piers being provided on which to place the necessary instruments, and an adjustable opening on the roof for transit work – and the smaller, an office, which will be heated by a copper stove.”
The Globe, October 1, 1898

The old Toronto Observatory continued to serve as the central office of the Dominion Meteorological Service. All photographic records from Agincourt were sent there for development. It also conducted astronomical studies. In 1908, the observatory was dismantled to accommodate an extension to King’s College Circle and possibly a new physics building. It was reconstructed brick by brick near Hart House, where it stands today as a students’ union. Some installations stand near its former location between Convocation Hall and the Sandford Fleming Building.

In 1899, severe earthquakes in Alaska were recorded at the Agincourt Magnetic Observatory. In 1903, the observatory recorded the largest magnetic storm on October 30 and 31, which Director Stupart “intimately” connected sunspots and magnetic disturbances on earth. The centre recorded more such magnetic storms attributed to sun sports on Aug 8, 1917. The Agincourt labs were useful in World War II against Germany for “calibration of master compasses and other apparatuses”.

The significance of the Agincourt Magnetic Observatory and its activities were very well documented and even world-renowned. In 1919, the Observatory was threatened by a proposed Toronto to Port Perry Hydro Radial, which had officials looking for a new site where electricity would not penetrate that observatory’s environment. It was of significant alarm as the Agincourt Magnetic Observatory was one of two of its kind in Canada and by far the more important of the pair. In 1957, a contagion of scientists from around the world visited Agincourt as a part of some sessions by the International Union of Geodesy and Geophysics held at the University of Toronto. They asserted that they knew Agincourt better than Toronto as the village appeared in “thousands of International Geophysical maps” around the world.

Despite its importance, city growth once again spelled the end for the site. Meeting a similar fate to the Toronto Observatory seventy years before, the Agincourt Magnetic Observatory closed in March 1969. In the 1950s, Highway 401 was constructed next to the laboratory. Farms adjacent to the observatory began to turn into housing. Factories were built on either side of the property in the 1960s. On July 1, 1968, a new observatory opened in Ottawa. By 1971, the Agincourt structures were gone completely. Today, government offices stand in its place, hiding the great landmark once housed there.

Works Referenced

“Astronomical Conversation.” The Globe, 21 Jan. 1903, p. 12.

“Chilly Weather.” The Globe, 14 Dec. 1898, p. 2.

Dobson, Jack. “Magnetic Observatory One of Canada’s First.” The Globe and Mail, 26 Nov. 1952, p. 3.

Government of Canada, Natural Resources Canada. “Government of Canada / Gouvernement Du Canada.” Government of Canada, Natural Resources Canada, Canadian Hazards Information Service, Government of Canada / Gouvernement Du Canada, 1 Mar. 2019, https://www.geomag.nrcan.gc.ca/obs/ott-en.php.

“Heritage of 315 Bloor Street West.” Munk School of Global Affairs and Public Policy, 28 June 2018, https://munkschool.utoronto.ca/at-the-observatory/.

“Know Agincourt But Their Maps Ignore Toronto.” The Globe and Mail, 12 Sept. 1957, p. 7.

“The Mounted Police.” The Globe, 7 Mar. 1900, p. 9.

“The New Observatory at Agincourt.” The Globe, 12 Dec. 1898, p. 2.

“The New Observatory.” The Globe, 1 Oct. 1898, p. 5.

“New Radial Line Will Compel Removal of Observatory.” The Globe, 2 Apr. 1919, p. 9.

“Safe From Wires.” The Evening Star, 27 Sept. 1898, p. 1.

“The Spots on the Sun.” The Globe, 6 Nov. 1903, p. 7.

“Studying Magnetic Storms By Diagram.” The Toronto Daily Star, 12 Sept. 1917, p. 2.

“To Remove Observatory.” The Globe, 1 May 1906, p. 14.

“Toronto Magnetic and Meteorological Observatory.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 19 Oct. 2021, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toronto_Magnetic_and_Meteorological_Observatory.

Torontoist. “Historicist: The Toronto Magnetic Observatory.” Torontoist, 13 Oct. 2012, https://torontoist.com/2012/10/historicist-the-toronto-magnetic-observatory/.

“University of Toronto.” Google Books, Google, https://books.google.ca/books?id=kZ61LfzVhJkC&pg=PA353&lpg=PA353&dq=Agincourt%2BMagnetic%2BObservatory%2Bdemolished&source=bl&ots=J5xhggL2Kp&sig=ACfU3U3shyLGTOksTCogpU3LkY1g-zYbSA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjL3KiDx_31AhVZkYkEHcsiDGIQ6AF6BAgPEAM#v=onepage&q=Agincourt%20Magnetic%20Observatory%20demolished&f=false.

“University of Toronto: An Architectural Tour (the Campus Guide) 2nd Edition.” Google Books, Google, https://books.google.ca/books?id=ZTKODwAAQBAJ&pg=PA66&lpg=PA66&dq=toronto%2Bmagnetic%2Bobservatory%2Bking%27s%2Bcollege%2Bcircle&source=bl&ots=T4jfUxams4&sig=ACfU3U0gAQKK9gQj9HbunIK0Z4YFwkdfpQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi3iI682_31AhWEk4kEHXmTBDEQ6AF6BAhOEAM#v=onepage&q=toronto%20magnetic%20observatory%20king’s%20college%20circle&f=false.

“World Weather.” The Globe and Mail, 26 Nov. 1952, p. 3.

“A World-Shaking Earthquake.” The Globe, 27 Sept. 1899, p. 8.

A Quick Early History of Toronto’s First Traffic Signals and The ‘Right on Red’ Rule

In the first half of the twentieth century, automobiles had quite an impact on the streets of Toronto. In 1913, there were 17,000 cars in Toronto; by 1923, the number grew to about 50,000 cars. New rules and technologies were adopted to better manage and regulate how motorists behaved, especially concerning the other users of the road and their safety.

Traffic Lights: A Most Beneficial System

On August 8, 1925, Torontonians were introduced to their first set of automated traffic signals. The new ‘semaphores’ were set up at the busy intersection of Yonge Street and Bloor Street on a trial basis and changed the history of Toronto’s streets forever. It was at least three years in the making, with Toronto Chief of Police Samuel J. Dickson advocating for and finally receiving the system in that time.

Before traffic lights, intersections were regulated by traffic policemen. In the 1910s, this was done largely through hand signals, whistles, and yelling. In 1920, a new ‘semaphore’ was piloted (again at Yonge and Bloor) which consisted of the officer controlling a staffed sign with the words “STOP” and “GO” written on them. The officer rotated the sign to control the flow of traffic. If one peruses archival photos of highly trafficked Toronto intersections, it is common to see a police officer amid the action.

The new traffic lights were an overall success. Automated signals were installed on major junctions along Yonge Street, Bloor Street, and Danforth Avenue, and in suburbs such as East York within the next few years after their introduction. As an example of the new semaphores’ impact, The Globe reported in December 1929, the intersection of Bloor Street and Keele Street had an average of 4 or 5 accidents a day before automated signals were installed there in 1927; there were no accidents after that point.

Police Chief Dickson even dreamed of a master tower at Yonge and Queen to control all the lights in the city. The idea became a reality at the end of 1926. There was even synchronicity within the lights: a motorist travelling straight on Danforth Avenue between Main Street and Broadview Avenue in 1928 was able to meet all green lights if he travelled at 19 or 20 miles per hour; any slower or faster, the driver would hit a red light (the speed was 18 miles per hour downtown).

Of course, several early reports indicated that the new lights were not all good. Even the Mayor weighed in, saying to the Police Chief in October 1925 that officers were still stationed at the Yonge and Bloor ‘experiment’, seemingly defeating the Chief’s goal of having the technology free up more policemen from traffic duty. Sometimes they did not function properly or at all, as The Globe reported in July 1928 of the new, often “stuck” Dundas Street East signals. But despite these complaints, the lights were there to stay; 96 signals were installed in Toronto by the end of the 1920s.

The ‘Right on Red’ Rule

One of the most interesting impacts of the rise and success of traffic lights was a ‘new’ law that permitted a motorist to make a right-hand turn against a signal that would otherwise make him wait at the intersection. This is the ‘right on red’ rule. On March 22, 1927, Police Chief Dickson announced the reinstatement of the permission, indicating that it was actually in effect “some time ago” and the success of the new lights could now allow for it once more. It is unclear what period the rule was previously in place or why it disappeared, although reckless driving at unmanned intersections is a theory for its removal.

The ‘right on red’ permission was not without controversy, even with the police itself. The organization vowed to watch right-turning drivers and warned them to prioritize the safety of pedestrians who had the right of way to cross the street.

In July 1928, new Police Chief D.C. Draper reiterated motorists were allowed to turn right at a “hostile” light, having “regard” of other cars and pedestrians who have the right of way. However, in March 1929, Draper advocated against the rule. In a report by the Traffic Committee, which monitored Toronto streets for more than a month for traffic improvements, the Chief suggested, among other items, the discontinuance of “the present practice of motorists making a right-hand turn against the red light” or “otherwise give them a warning that the pedestrians have the right of way, and that right-hand turns against a red signal are only allowed when care is exercised”. The Board of Control ultimately went against the Chief and retained the rule while reiterated motorists were responsible for pedestrian safety.

Interestingly, in Hamilton, which was the setting of Canada’s first traffic lights just two months before Toronto’s semaphores were installed, the Traffic Committee wanted to abolish the rule which allowed right-hand turns on red lights in 1933. Oddly, it was met with disapproval from the Ontario Department of Highways. The by-law ultimately remained.

Despite many calls in Toronto in the decades since to remove the permission for good, the Highway Traffic Act currently upholds it in Ontario:

s. 144 (19) Despite subsection (18) and subject to subsection (14) [Green Arrows], a driver, after stopping his or her vehicle and yielding the right of way to traffic lawfully approaching so closely that to proceed would constitute an immediate hazard, may,
(a) turn to the right; or
(b) turn to the left from a one-way street into a one-way street,
without a green indication being shown.

To Stop or Not?

Another interesting question arose on the requirement to stop before turning right. In November 1927, a person writing into The Toronto Daily Star‘s “Voice of The People” section was puzzled by the different standards of when there was a stop sign at an intersection (which he interpreted as ‘stop means stop’) and when there was a policeman with a semaphore (which he interpreted as ‘stop means stop sometimes‘). The editor replied that when an officer was holding the semaphore, he supervises traffic and allows right turns without stopping. When there is no officer, all cars must stop.

Within Toronto City Hall, the issue of drivers legally passing through a red light to turn right was debated for several years. In July 1929, Toronto’s Traffic Committee suggested an amendment of certain by-laws to protect pedestrians, including motorists were to come to a stop before making a right-hand turn against the red light. It did not seem to have made an impact. In December 1933, the idea was raised again, this time proving more successful. The Board of Control favoured a change to the by-law so that every driver must come to a full stop before making a right turn at an intersection controlled by automatic traffic signals. The change seemed to be spurred by complaints that motorists were not heeding the way to pedestrians and “showing no consideration for the pedestrian”. City Council adopted the change on December 12th of the year, subject to approval by the Department of Highways.

Inexplicably, the rule was changed back only four months later. In April 1934, the by-law requiring motorists to make a complete stop before a right turn at a red light was rescinded. The Board of Police Commissioners instructed police officers to safeguard the rights of pedestrians once more.

It is unclear when exactly the law reverted once again, but it seems the matter was not closed. The idea seemed to be backed in other circles, too. In a February 1934 meeting of the Ontario Motor League, a suggestion was advanced that those turning right in the province should come to a full stop at both a red land green light. In 1938, a reader of The Globe and Mail expressed his displeasure in the lack of pedestrian rights in motorists not having to stop before right turns. A decade later, in July 1948, the same newspaper rode along with Toronto Traffic Safety Council Inspector Vernon H. Page in a motor car as he pointed out traffic infractions, including those failing to come to a full stop before a right turn, meaning by this point the law was reinstated.

Today, of course, a red light does indeed mean ‘stop’ in all contexts, as the Highway Traffic Act so states:

s. 144 (18) Every driver approaching a traffic control signal showing a circular red indication and facing the indication shall stop his or her vehicle and shall not proceed until a green indication is shown.

Works Referenced

“24-Hour Operation Of Traffic Signals Proves Successful.” The Globe, 28 July 1928, p. 13.

“24-Hour Police Service, East York, Authorized; Other Changes Urged.” The Globe, 18 Jan. 1929, p. 13.

“Allow Right Turn Against Red Light.” The Toronto Daily Star, 22 Mar. 1927, p. 3.

“Automatic Control Of Central Traffic Assured InToronto.” The Globe, 20 Mar. 1926, p. 14.

“Automatic Control Of Toronto Traffic To Be Inaugurated.” The Globe, 5 Nov. 1926, p. 11.

“Automatic Signals To Be Installed At Fifty-Five More Intersections Controlling All Main Street Traffic.” The Globe, 10 Mar. 1928, p. 8.

“Automatic Signals Will Operate Today At Bloor And Yonge.” The Globe, 8 Aug. 1925, p. 13.

Bateman, Chris. “A Brief History of the First Traffic Lights in Toronto.” BlogTO, BlogTO, 3 Aug. 2013, https://www.blogto.com/city/2013/08/a_brief_history_of_the_first_traffic_lights_in_toronto/.

“Canada’s First Traffic Lights at Hamilton’s Delta.” Thespec.com, 8 May 2021, https://www.thespec.com/life/local-history/spec175/2021/05/08/canadas-frist-traffic-lights-at-hamiltons-delta.html#:~:text=On%20June%2011%2C%201925%2C%20the,lights%20was%20meant%20for%20them.

“Car May Turn Right Against Red Signal.” The Globe, 20 May 1933, p. 2.

“Cars In Toronto Now Number 50,000.” The Globe, 1923 Sept. 1AD, p. 8.

“Chief Draper Asks Co-Operation of Pedestrian And Motorist Of Solving Local Traffic Problem.” The Globe, 10 May 1929, p. 15.

“Chief’s Suggestions In Tabloid Form.” The Globe, 5 Mar. 1929, p. 15.

“City of Toronto Traffic By-Law.” The Toronto Daily Star, 2 Mar. 1933, p. 12.

“Civic Police Force To Be Augmented With Hundred Men.” The Globe, 9 Feb. 1928, p. 13.

“Flashing Lights Operate Traffic Bloor And Yonge.” The Toronto Daily Star, 8 Aug. 1925, p. 1.

Guillet, Edwin C. “Teeth in Traffic Laws.” The Globe and Mail, 13 Oct. 1938, p. 6.

“Highway Traffic Act, R.S.O. 1990, c. H.8.” Ontario.ca, 19 Nov. 2018, https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90h08.

“More Semaphores Soon.” The Toronto Daily Star, 14 July 1920, p. 19.

“More Traffic Signals.” The Globe, 8 June 1928, p. 17.

“Needs Larger Force, Says Chief of Police.” The Globe, 5 Nov. 1925, p. 12.

“New Traffic Signals Are Very Effective.” The Globe, 5 June 1920, p. 16.

“Of Interest to Motorists.” The Globe, 24 Oct. 1925, p. 9.

“Operate Semaphores.” The Toronto Daily Star, 31 May 1920, p. 2.

“Over 100,000 Ontario Cars.” The Globe, 22 July 1919, p. 9.

“Planning Scheme Will Be Discussed By Central Body.” The Globe, 5 Dec. 1929, p. 15.

“Police Chief Wants Automatic Control In Downtown Areas.” The Globe, 24 June 1925, p. 13.

“Police to Safeguard Against Right Turns.” The Globe, 26 Apr. 1934, p. 4.

“Police Traffic Squad Readjust Signal Systems.” The Globe, 10 Aug. 1928, p. 13.

“Remembering Toronto’s First Automated Traffic Lights: August 8: Snapshots in History.” Local History & Genealogy, https://torontopubliclibrary.typepad.com/local-history-genealogy/2019/08/remembering-torontos-first-automated-traffic-lights-august-8-snapshots-in-history.html.

“Return To Old Rule Of Right-Hand Turn.” The Globe, 22 Mar. 1927, p. 11.

“Says Light System As Traffic Signal Is Toronto’s Need.” The Globe, 10 July 1925, p. 9.

Schrag, Lex. “Camera Catches Motorists, Pedestrians Breaking Rules.” The Globe and Mail, 20 July 1948, p. 13.

“Semaphore On Trial.” The Toronto Daily Star, 1 June 1920, p. 1.

“Signal Set Against Police Chief By Board Of Control.” The Globe, 16 Mar. 1929, p. 18.

“Speed Limit Stays Unchanged At Present.” The Globe, 27 Feb. 1934, p. 4.

“Stop Before Right Turn.” The Toronto Daily Star, 12 Dec. 1933, p. 5.

“Stop Before Turn Against Red Light Urged In Report.” The Globe, 29 July 1929, p. 16.

“Stop Recommended Before Right Turn.” The Globe, 7 Dec. 1933, p. 11.

“Traffic Report By Chief Draper Goes To Control Board.” The Globe, 5 Mar. 1929, p. 15.

“Traffic Signal Urged For Danforth And Victoria Park.” The Globe, 16 Oct. 1928, p. 13.

“Traffic Signals Called Obsolete.” The Globe, 15 Feb. 1935, p. 11.

“Voice Of The People.” The Toronto Daily Star, 29 Nov. 1927, p. 6.

“When Lights Get Stuck.” The Globe, 7 July 1928, p. 6.

“Old” Streets of Toronto

Across the map of Toronto, there are several “Old” versions of major streets: Old Yonge Street, Old Leslie Street, et cetera. These are smaller and certainly older streets that predate yet still exist alongside their longer, newer counterparts.

How old are these “old” streets anyways? Why were they built as they were in the first place? Why were they replaced?

Tremaine’s Map showing old courses of Toronto’s streets.
Source: Old Toronto Maps

Here are five examples of “Old” Toronto Streets and their histories:

1. Old Yonge Street

Year rerouted: 1835

When Yonge Street was laid out in the 1790s, it was not the continuous straight path we think of today. The sheer length of the street almost welcomed obstacles. At York Mills, the challenging topography around the West Don River caused it to divert east just south of York Mills Road. It curved north and back west to join the original course. In 1835, the street was realigned and straightened. It seems in the 1920s, Yonge Street was re-routed again slightly to the west to allow for better automobile navigation.

Today, the old, “orphaned” course remains as part of Mill Street and Old Yonge Street. Old Yonge’s narrow, curvy course in parts maintains a rural quality. While at one time Yonge and Old Yonge once connected at its north end, this connection is now a roundabout. Finally, because of its length in the province, there are other Old Yonge Streets in Thornhill and Aurora.

Yonge Street, 2021.
Source: Google Maps.

2. Old Sheppard Avenue

Year rerouted: ~1934

Sheppard Avenue once existed in two separate sections on either side of the Scarborough-North York border. A traveller wishing to travel east or west through the two streets had to jog about 300 metres on Victoria Park to reach the other section. In 1934, the two roads were joined through a curving road running from just past Woodbine Avenue to the lower street in Scarborough. The move was the idea of Ontario Premier George S. Henry whose estate stood where the new Sheppard Avenue connection ran.

Today, the orphaned North York section of the old road now exists as residential Old Sheppard, albeit with small parts removed around Highway 404.

Old Sheppard Avenue, 2021
Source: Google Maps

More reading: Scenes From O’Sullivan’s Corners & Muirhead’s Corners

3. Old Lawrence Avenue

Year rerouted: ~1961

Lawrence Avenue is and was one of many streets which was impact by Toronto’s ravines. West of Victoria Park Avenue, Lawrence once took an interesting route across the East Don River Valley. Like Sheppard Avenue, there were two sections of the street: the Scarborough section which exists today and a North York section. The North York section jogged up Victoria Park over the Canadian Pacific Railway, ran briefly next to the track, and continued west for 1.5 kilometres. From here, it took a rather curvy route south down the East Don Valley, crossed the Don River via a bridge, and curved back north and west before continuing towards Don Mills Road. Presumably, this was easiest way in the 19th century to navigate the valley.

In 1961, Lawrence Avenue was straightened with a road directly connecting Victoria Park and Woodcliff Place, curling northwest from Scarborough with several new bridges to accommodate the Don River and CPR.

Today, the orphaned old road exists as roughly as part of Roanoke Road and, more famously, a short access road to the East Don Trail named Old Lawrence. The remaining section west of the river along with the old bridge itself have been lost.

More reading: Scenes From East Don Trail

4. Old Leslie Street

Year rerouted: ~1968

Like Lawrence Avenue, Leslie Street’s course at one time also had to divert around the East Don River. Also of 19th-century origin, a traveller going north on Leslie had to turn west for a short distance and then northwest for about 500 metres to meet with Sheppard Avenue. There was then a jog east on Sheppard, which included a bridge over the river and finally a left turn to travel north again.

In the 1950s, with the construction of Highway 401, Leslie Street was altered to curve through the highway, but the course has otherwise remained the same. In 1968, the street was reconfigured again to join with Sheppard more directly. The Don River was also straightened and a new bridge was constructed which spanned the entirety of the new four-way intersection.

Today, the old course remains as Old Leslie Street, albeit a shorter version of the original route is available today to the public. It joins the new Leslie Street via Esther Shiner Drive. South of that street, there are City facilities. North of Esther Shiner, Old Leslie serves the Leslie Street TTC Station before it crosses over Sheppard via an overpass. It then curls back down to join the street (there is also a parking lot with an entrance to the East Don Parkland trail).

More reading: Scenes From East Don Parkland

5. Cummer Avenue

Year rerouted: ~1969

The original course of Cummer Avenue west of Leslie Street was an 1819 construction. The street was laid out as a side road from Yonge Street by the Cummer family to access their holdings (a mill and camp) near the East Don River. When it approached the valley, it curved down to roughly follow the river’s course. It crossed the river via a bridge and eventually the railway tracks at a level crossing. Finally, it terminated at Leslie Street.

By 1969, the street was rerouted to curve north away from the river (which looks to have been straightened around this time as well). The street passed through a new wider bridge over the Don River and then under a railway overpass before eventually becoming McNiccol Avenue at Leslie Street.

The old, orphaned course still exists in parts. The curved section lives on as part of the East Don Parkland trail, although not all of it follows the old path. The old bridge is in situ as well. The trail travels east through the hydro corridor where it terminates at the railway tracks. On the other side, Old Cummer Go Station and a hundred-metre long Old Cummer Avenue hold the old name.

More reading: Scenes From East Don Parkland

Click here for the map below of “Old” Streets.

For more “Old” Streets, I created a sequel here.

Scenes From The Lesmill Office Park

Welcome to the Lesmill Office Park

The Lesmill Office Park is located in the Don Mills neighbourhood of Toronto. While on the surface this post-war collection of industries may be uninspiring, its history and current make-up is interesting.

The City of Toronto defines the Office Park’s borders as roughly the East Don River in the north, Leslie Street to the west, Don Mills Road to the east, and Bond Avenue and Canadian National Railway to the south (excluding parkland and residential areas). For the purposes of this article, only the area north of York Mills Road will be explored.

The Lesmill Office Park mixes light industry, offices, courier companies, and some retail to make for an eclectic combination of enterprises. In modern terms, it is an important employment area for the City of Toronto. Historically, it is an overlooked part of the post-war development and growth of Don Mills. Moreover, the fascinating part of the Office Park is its evolution from farms lot and how they continue to play into the modern fabric of the district.

The Duncan Plot & York Mills Road

Beginning in the 1800s, the Duncan family owned 200 acres at Lot 11, Third Concession East of Yonge in the historic community of Oriole. In modern references, this was the north side of York Mills Road between Leslie Street and Highway 404. David Duncan in 1865 constructed a farmhouse which would be named “Moatfield”.

By the end of the 1950s, changes came to York Mills Road and the Duncan family lot. At Leslie Street, a British American (B/A) Oil Company service centre opened at 800 York Mills. By 1960, the gas station expanded to occupy more of the corner. B/A was defunct by 1970; today there is a PetroCanada on site.

In 1960, industry came to this part of Don Mills. The Imperial Tobacco Sales Company of Canada and the Canadian Westinghouse Company opened on either side of the CNR tracks on York Mills Road. The coming of the railway to Don Mills in the late 19th century and early 20th-century was important in the future arrival of the Office Park. A siding served the former factory. Today, both factories no longer exist, being replaced in the 21st century by the York Mills Gardens mall and an empty lot seemingly ready for redevelopment, respectively.

At 860 York Mills, a second gas station – Harry’s Shell Service – stood at the southern entrance of the Business Park at Lesmill Rd. In 1998, the land was rezoned from industrial to commercial use to accommodate a one-storey building. A City of Toronto report stated the properties in the Business Park were “under-utilized” and the proposed building was “to facilitate the articulation of this important intersection and serve to enhance the general appearance of the area” and “provided increased amenities to the area”. The adjacent Don Mills Car Wash at 862 York Mills was another early business of the Business Park. The structure still operates in its original use and used the Don Mills Car Wash name until about 2014!

The Moatfield House at 866 York Mills Road itself was impacted directly by redevelopment. In Don Mills: From Forest and Farms to Forces of Change, Scott Kennedy wrote by 1962, the Duncan farm was reduced to sixteen acres near the farm house. By this point, the property belonged to Kate Duncan, the widow of Gordon Duncan, son of David Duncan, the house’s builder. In 1972, Kate Duncan passed away. The Prince Hotel (later the Westin Prince, now the Pan Pacific) opened on the former Moatfield property on June 1, 1974.

The empty, derelict farmhouse was moved closer to York Mills Road to accommodate the development, but its survival was not secure. With the future of the Moatfield house in jeopardy, the Tzioumis brothers rescued the property in 1986 and moved it 300 metres north, where it operates as the the David Duncan House. The steakhouse still stands on the original Duncan plot from the 1800s. Both Moatfield and The Prince Hotel are Toronto heritage properties.

Don Mills Road goes north

An important event in the creation of the Business Park was the northward extension of Don Mills Road from its terminus at York Mills Road. The latter road curved through the intersection. The idea was first proposed in 1961 at a cost of $3.75 million and was meant to accommodate the loss of Woodbine Avenue, which was absorbed into the new Don Valley Parkway. Land acquisition took place between 1962, with construction on the road, including new bridges over the East Don River and Highway 401 taking place in the following years. The Don Mills Road extension opened by 1966.

The Toronto Transit Commission’s Don Mills bus route began servicing York Mills Road in 1954. With the extension of the street, the 25 route also grew, even taking on an “A” branch in 1971 which serviced the business park. The 122 Graydon Hall bus took over in 1985.

Layers and layers on Lesmill Road

Lesmill Road was the first street to go up in the Business Park, being built north only to the Duncan property line in 1963. Warehouses, factories, and offices lined both sides of the streets, hinting at was to come.

The origins of the Business Park lay in 1964 when the North York Planning approved a plan by Wretham Estates Ltd to develop 120 acres of land east of Leslie Street between York Mills Road and Highway 401 for industry. Wrentham Estates Ltd. seems to have been a real estate company spearheaded by industrialist E.P. Taylor which managed residential, commercial, and industrial properties. Taylor initiated the Don Mills project in the 1950s. It might be fair to say in this period “Oriole” as a descriptor for the area fell out of use as the community’s farms slowly started to disappear; it would be supplanted by Don Mills. The Wrentham Estates themselves was a residential and commercial project in York Mills around Bayview Avenue; the York Mills Shopping Centre was one of the by-products.

For this reason, the Lesmill Business Park is/was also known as the Wretham Estates Business/Industrial/Office Park, although use of the name seems to have dwindled this century. The 1966 Annual Report of the Canadian Equity & Development Company (later owners of the Wrentham Estates Ltd) cited that 23.6 acres of the industrial park had been sold at $40,000 to $50,000 per acre. Some remaining 43 acres were expected to be sold over the next few years and all services had been installed.

Lesmill Road, seemingly a portmanteau of Leslie and (York) Mill(s), was constructed between 1965 and 1969. It was laid out mostly over the 19th century plots 12 and 13, mostly belonging to the Elliot and Hunter families (and as others as ownership changed).

Lesmill is lined with many factories on either side. As it curves towards the CNR tracks, a long-removed siding served a former Johnson and Johnson plant at 66 Lesmill. As one moves up the street, there is an interesting mix of businesses.

At the road’s northern end, Moatfield Park edges on a branch of the East Don and has a couple of neat tidbits. Although it named after Moatfield, the farm did not actually extend this far north. In 1985, a recommendation was made by the North York Historical Board to move and restore the derelict Duncan/Oriole Station on York Mills Road, which was ultimately rejected by the city (the old station was sadly and ultimately demolished). More interesting, the park’s soccer field was the site of a 14th-century Huron-Wendat ossuary, discovered in 1997. It is a reminder that before the Business Park and the European settlers before it, there was human settlement here.

Lesmill Road once terminated at Moatfield Park, at the line which divided the north and south halves of Lot 13, another Hunter family plot. In 1983, a Metro Transportation study recommended its northward extension to Leslie Street, one of several suggestions to alleviate road congestion in Toronto. In 1988, an Environment Assessment Study was conducted and the street was extended. The move provided another entrance to the office park, access to and from the highway, and alleviated congestion along Leslie Street.

Out of Place? The Locke and Goodwin Houses

At the north end of Lesmill Road off a driveway, two historic houses stand next to the on-ramp for the eastbound 401. They look out of place, and rightfully so: their contexts have shifted.

The first house is a Tudor Revival-style home built in 1933, informally named the Clark Locke House. Now with the modern address of 355 Lesmill Road, the house was called “Birches End”. The house’s namesake married into the family of former Ontario Premier George S. Henry, who held property here north to Sheppard Avenue. Scott Kennedy wrote Birches End was located “on a high point of land near the top of a ravine that contains one of the oldest stands of white pines in Ontario”.

The Locke House was historically accessible from Leslie Street. When Highway 401 was constructed in the 1950s, the Henry farm was split on either side of the motorway, including landing Birches End on the south side. The widening of the highway expropriated the property in the following decade. The house sat derelict and empty until it was saved by the Ontario Nature. The City of Toronto Forestry Department uses the house now. When Lesmill was extended in the 1980s, it became the driveway for the property. Perhaps it is a candidate for a future Doors Open.

Easy to miss but sharing the same address, the William Goodwin House stands beside the Locke House. It was built in 1845 and is not original to the property. It stood on Yonge Street in York Mills until the 1980s. Much like the Locke House, it fell into disrepair until it was saved and moved beside the Locke House. Its survival makes it the oldest standing house in North York.

Duncan Mill Road: New and Old

Today, Duncan Mill Road hosts an interesting collection of buildings, including two medical buildings (one of which lights up at night), the headquarters for Herjavec Group, a co-working space, and storage complex.

Duncan Mill Road was laid out in the mid-1960s at the same time as the other streets in the office park. Its naming seems to references the Duncan family, although their plot was not its direct vicinity (the mill part will be explained shortly). Running from Don Mills to Lesmill, its construction necessitated a bridge over the East Don River, which was completed around 1968. It is, however, not the first crossing here.

A former road was situated just north of the present one, which ran between Graydon Hall Manor to the east of the river and the farms to the west. This was on the north half of Lot 12, historically associated by the Elliots, but likely passed through different owners and subdivisions in the mid-twentieth century. The farm had a horse track on the plot.

When one ventures into the valley of the Betty Sutherland Trail, a couple clues point to the old road’s former existence. The first relics are obvious – at least in the sense that they are visible. These are the “Duncan Mill Ruins”: a larger roofless structure containing a boiler and a smaller, square structure which house more elaborate equipment.

The origin of these buildings are unknown. Scott Kennedy speculated the larger building may be the remains of a mill from the Hunter property, which once may or may not be the same one seen in maps to the south of here. He also theorized the smaller “newer” building was connected to the 1930s Graydon Mall manor as its style references the mansion’s architecture (other writers have pinned it as a water pump for the house itself, but Kennedy does not seem to go as far to make that connection). The North York Historical Society speculated it was a water pumping station for the residents of North York.

A lesser known remnant of this old road are some concrete pads located south of the ruins on either side of the river. These look to be leftovers of leftovers: bridge abutments of the former bridge that ran through here! The leftovers were once more pronounced, as seen by these 2004 images. Today, the new Duncan Mill bridge looms over in eyesight of the site of the old bridge and its neighbouring relics.

Links to the Past on Valleybrook and Moatfield Drives

Opposite the Betty Sutherland Trail, the Duncan Mill Greenbelt offers some neat surprises. A foot bridge travels over the East Don River. On the east side of the river, there is a baseball diamond, sandy volleyball court, and views of the river. Most oddly yet intriguing of all, some wooden stairs lead up to Duncan Mill Road. Their origin is unknown, but their existence is intriguing.

On the west side, more greenspace offers up a soccer field. There is an ascend up to Moatfield Drive, which is prominent at the Bayview Glen Independent School, whose stairs are built over the topography. The school moved into the Brutalist 1970s-era building in the 1980s. There are currently renovations on the side facing Duncan Mill. Across the street, a Moatfield campus was opened in 2014 using some excess space in a parking lot. The site of the school itself has a history which reaches back many generations.

Scott Kennedy wrote that the Hunters built a home on southern lot of plot 13 west of the Don River in the 1840s. It had a long driveway leading from Leslie Street which straddled the property line with the northern lot. A victim of fire, this house had a survived until 1961 when the property was under the Anderson family. A new house called Green Acres went up in its place and even had an address in the city directory: 85 Valleybrook Road. Much like Moatfield, Green Acres continued to stand even as offices and warehouses went up around it. It survived until the early 1980s.

Valleybrook Drive has a couple of notable modern landmarks. At 41 Valleybrook, there is the headquarters for SOCAN, an organization founded in 1990 to represent Canadian publishers and songwriters. When the structure was first built, it hosted BMI Music. Beside it at 1 Valleybrook, an interestingly-designed office building houses Parkin Architects, which seems to be the firm of famed Canadian modernist architect John C. Parkin. It also hosted a IBM plant too at one point.

By the early-1980s, Moatfield Drive was added to the business park, running between Valleywood Drive and Don Mills Road and effectively completing the layout we see today. Interestingly, although it seems to be named after the Duncan farm, only a small portion actually runs through the old Duncan lot. In the 1980s, the first buildings went up on the street: the current Kraft Heinz office and Thales Group structures. Green Acres once stood in a parking lot adjacent to these buildings before the Bayview Glen School was built.

Aerial of The Lesmill Office Park, 1991
Source: City of Toronto Archives.

One newer structure is the headquarters for the Ontario Association of Architects at 111 Moatfield Drive. Although this building looks like a 21st-century construction, it opened in 1992 and was designed by Toronto architect Ruth Cawker. It is an interesting two-storey building with many windows and natural light. It too may be a good candidate for a future Doors Open.

Finally, the David Duncan House is situated at 125 Moatfield Drive. As mentioned, it was moved here in 1986, still on the original Moatfield lot, although facing Don Mills instead of York Mills. It is one of a few visible links of the Lesmill Business Park’s former life.

Toronto’s Lost Streets: Tate & Water Streets

In the compelling theme of ‘Lost Toronto’, the area bordered by Eastern Avenue, Cherry Street, the Don River, and Mill Street in the West Don Lands has had a transformative history. Two intersecting streets, Tate Street and Water Street, were at the figurative and geographic centre of this intriguing district.

In his Landmarks, John Ross Robertson wrote Water Street was named after the Don River, which the street once ran along. Before 1876, Water Street was East Street after its location in the city of Toronto. In its longest version, Water Street ran from Eastern Avenue to the railway tracks. The street looks to date from the 1830s when the marshy area of the east end of Toronto was added to the street grid.

Robertson wrote Tate Street was named after Mr Tate, the contractor for the Grand Trunk Railway (the right of way ran south of the street). In its longest version, Tate Street ran from Cherry Street to the Don River. Don Loucks and Leslie Valpy wrote in their Modest Hopes: Homes and Stories of Toronto’s Workers from the 1820s to 1920s that Tate Street first appeared on maps in the 1850s.

Several details are available about life on Tate and Water Streets. Loucks and Valpy describe the area around and including the streets as a “bustling neighbourhood, with rows and rows of workers’ cottages as well as large and small factories”. The detailed Fire Insurance Map of 1889 tells us these were mostly tiny, one-storey, wooden structures, some of which (mostly on Water Street) had rough cast or plastered finishes. It also shows a relatively populous district with several pockets of empty lots, notably on Water Street north of Front Street and the south side of Tate Street near Cherry Street.

The Toronto Directory for 1880 offers a snapshot into the working-class identity of Tate and Water Streets. Professions are listed as mostly labourers. This is not surprising considering the proximity of industries: Gooderham and Worts distillery to the west, the Toronto Rolling Mills (until 1914) and Grand Trunk Railroad to the south, and the William Davies Co. giant meatpacking operation to the east.

Toronto directory for 1880
Source: Toronto Public Library

At the close of the 19th century, several developments altered the course of history for Tate and Water. By the early 1890s, the Canadian Pacific Railway opened a branch through the east end of Toronto and up through the Don Valley. The track ran south of the western side of Tate Street, crossed Water Street at a level crossing, and then curved northeast adjacent to the Don.

In 1900, the William Davies Co. successfully applied for some changes to the street grid to accommodate an expansion:

The closure of Beachall Street from Front to Mill;
The closure of Tate Street from the west limit of Beachall Street to the east limit of Vine Street
The southern extension of Vine from Front to Mill

The eastern closure of Tate Street from the new Vine Street (which was later renamed to Overend) razed structures across nearly thirty lots on and around Tate.

In 1905, the Canadian Northern Ontario Railway acquired the lands east of Cherry Street between Eastern Avenue and Front Street. The company built freight yards on the property, which would later serve the Canadian National Railway from the 1910s onwards. Water Street lost about eighteen residences north of Front Street.

Archival images of the area are limited, but two images in 1907 offer a good insight into the physical look of the area. The photos look up and down Water Street from north and south of the CPR crossing and Tate Street. Most notable are the wet, muddy, wagon-tracked streets. Tate and Water, along with Mill, Cherry, and Overend Streets were not paved.

The foot of Water Street had a row of houses (numbered 2 to 14) on the west side. The corner property was a grocery run by the McSherrys. The archives label these homes as “old”. While not condemned like others that are photographed, the age and condition of the structures likely made the area more primed for redevelopment.

Old houses ( front view ) – 2 to 14 Water Street, 1912.
Source: City of Toronto Archives

A few newspaper articles may have further pointed to the shabby nature of the residences. In 1904, a Mrs O’Brien was severely burned by an exploding lamp in her home at 12 Tate Street. In an odd tale from 1908, an 18-year old girl was turned away by her step-father and mother at 22 Tate Street after giving birth. The girl was taken in by a George Davis at 44 Tate Street where she slept downstairs in a low, mouldy room where water had been creeping in. Davis had four rooms in the house and he sublet two rooms to another family. While these events may have been one-offs or coincidental, they do fit the narrative of what was about to happen.

Old house – Mill Street opposite Water Street (161, vacant), 1912.
Source: City of Toronto Archives

In 1911, The Canadian Pacific Railway expanded again. In April, the company served notice to all “tenants of the district bounded by Cherry, Water, Overend, Tate, and Front Streets to vacate their premises by the end of the month”. Freight yards and sheds were to go in their place. The Globe noted the properties occupying the area were “shacks” and would be torn down. Tenders to tear down or remove sixty houses were awarded by the company at the end of the month, although residents stayed until June.

In May, the City granted permission to the CPR to close Tate and Water. The company had already acquired 90% of the property in the area. In June, there seemed to have been an impasse with Thomas O’Connor’s property. The CPR needed the property to build a railway viaduct. The company stated they would expropriate if no price was agreed and they differed on price. Loucks and Valpy wrote William O’Connor was a champion oarsman whose family moved to Tate Street in the 1860s; it is unclear if Thomas O’Connor was related, as the authors wrote the O’Connors left Tate Street in 1891. The final house on Tate Street was demolished in 1913. The streets continued to exist in the city directories and real-life, albeit as shortened versions of their former selves without anything except CPR and CNR structures built upon them.

Aerial, 1965.
Source: Toronto Public Library.

Industry in the West Don Lands area continued for the next seventy years. In the 1990s, the former William Davies Co buildings along with the CPR and CNR tracks were gradually removed. A failed project in the 1990s entitled ‘Ataratiri’ aimed to redevelop the land for residential use, a goal which was eventually fulfilled by the Corktown Commons parkland and the rebranded Canary District in the 2010s.

Ataratiri site plan, 1990. Source: City of Toronto Archives

Although Mill Street, Front Street, Cherry Street, and Eastern Avenue remain today and there is a new Rolling Mills Road, traces of Water Street and Tate Street and the bustling residential district once contained within them are essentially non-existent. Tannery Street roughly lays where Water Street once stood.

Tannery Road, 2020.
Source: Google Maps.

The History of the Kemp Manufacturing Co., Toronto

For nearly a hundred years, the Kemp Manufacturing Company of Toronto and its predecessor and successors manufactured household metal products. Its rise, growth, and leadership is an interesting chapter in Toronto history.

The Beginnings

In 1867, Thomas McDonald founded his Dominion Tin & Stamping Works, operating out of 153-159 Queen Street East near George Street. McDonald was joined by Quebec-born Albert Edward Kemp in 1885 to form the McDonald, Kemp, and Co.

The Dominion Tin & Stamp Works from the Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto, 1880.
Credit: Goad’s Toronto:

The new partners moved the business to the southeast corner of River Street and Gerrard Street East in then working-class Cabbagetown, eventually taking the street address 199-207 River Street. The joint venture between Kemp and McDonald did not last long as the men had a falling around 1888. Kemp bought out McDonald and brought in his brother William from Quebec as his new partner. Together, the brothers formed the Kemp Manufacturing Company. McDonald moved to Montreal in 1893 where he ran another iron and tinware business; he passed away four years later.

Growth & Expansion

From a structure at the corner of River and Gerrard, the Kemp Manufacturing Company grew to house a grand complex that spanned an entire city block. In 1894, The Globe toured the factory and described it as having a main building that extended from the Don River to River Street on Gerrard containing workshops, warehouses, and shipping departments. Offices were located at the corner of streets. Storerooms containing pig tin and plates, rod iron, hoop do., iron and steel sheets, zinc, spelter, copper, and more were located on the other side of a laneway separating the building and covered bridges connected departments.

The decades that followed effectively resulted in the annexation of nearly the entire block from Gerrard Street East to Oak Street and River Street to the Don River:

May 1895: The company asks for a lease of a site on the Don for the new enamelled iron and steelworks, and for exemption for the building to be erected there
July 1895: Kemp purchases the balance of the whole block of Gerrard to Bell Street and from River street to the Don; this new site will be occupied by a fully equipped factory specially adapted for their new Diamond specialties of enamelled goods
June 1896: Kemp expresses his intention to make some extensions to its premises as soon as it knows what the policy of the new (federal) Government

April 1898: The company applies to lay a 12-inch water main at its own cost from the Don for fire protection
June 1898: The company, now occupying the block bounded by Gerrard, River, and Bell Street, makes an application to the Assessment Commissioners department for the terms in which they may get city property at the east end of Bell Street to the road on the Don Flats and north to the Gerrard Street Bridge. It was awarded to another company the following month.

October-November 1902: The Kemp Manufacturing Co ask Mayor Howland and Council to purchase a portion of Bell Street and the Don Terrace to extend their works to the south and east and give them a railway connection. The Assessment Commissioner favoured the purchase but fixes the sale price at $5000. A.E. Kemp, now MP, argues that a new building would not disturb the houses remaining on the street.
April-October 1903: The Kemp Manufacturing Co was permitted to erect a bridge from the east side of their factory to Gerrard Street, and to construct a siding running from the Grand Trunk Belt to their property.

November 1906: AE Kemp denies intending to build an automobile factory opposite the company overlooking Riverdale Park. The land was bought for the Kemp Mfg Co by Victoria Harbor Lumber Co.
June 1920: The Sheet Metal Products Co. applies for a title to the land consisting of the remainder of Bell Street and the north side of Oak Street.

North Wall, 1922.
Credit: City of Toronto Archives.

An ambitious leader

Edward Kemp was the ambitious head of the Kemp Manufacturing Co. and Sheet Metal Products. In addition to the savvy business moves that expanded the company’s footprint in the River and Gerrard Street area, Kemp added factories in Winnipeg and Montreal in the early 1900s. Kemp and his brother also purchased the MacDonald Manufacturing Co. located at 401 Richmond Street West at Spadina Avenue, adding it as a subsidiary.

At the turn of the century, Edward Kemp took a step back from the company as he pursued a political career. He was first elected to the House of Commons in 1900 as the Conservative Member for East Toronto. In 1916, he was appointed Minister of the Militia. He was knighted after World War I for his political efforts in the conflict. Kemp was also appointed to the Senate in 1921.

While Kemp was keen on growing his prosperity, he also furthered general Toronto and Canadian manufacturing interests. He was President of the Canadian Manufacturers’ Association in 1895 and 1896; President of the Toronto Board of Trade in 1899 and 1900; and Director of the National Trust Company, the Imperial Life Assurance Company, and other high-profile corporations.

Unsurprisingly, Kemp and his wives (he married in 1879 and remarried in 1925) were part of high society in Toronto. He was listed in the Toronto Society Blue Book of the city’s ‘elite’ on multiple occasions. In 1902, he built his massive estate ‘Castle Frank’ after previously living at 124 Winchester Street and 119 Wellesley Street. He was a member of the National Club, Albany Club, York Club, and other prestigious exclusive organizations.

In 1929, Edward Kemp died suddenly in his summer home near Pigeon Lake of reported “acute indigestion”. It was only hours after his seventy-first birthday. The Globe described his success as “bound up in the growth of Toronto.”

SMP Quality

The Kemp Manufacturing Co. and later the Steel Metal Metal Products Co. were renowned for their household goods. A 1922 SMP Catalogue offers an interesting insight into the product line, which was divided into types of products by material, all with quality assurances!

The SMP Line catalogue, 1922.
Credit: Toronto Public Library

Products ranged from baby baths to chamber pails to ash sifters, and of course, lanterns.

A dedicated workforce

Workers of the Kemp Manufacturing Co. lived on Sumach Street, River Street, and Oak Street, among others. Injuries such as limp lacerations and crushing were reported in the newspapers. Notable is the young age of some of the injured men, which were between seventeen and nineteen years.

As described in Sojourners and Settlers, Macedonians made up the highest proportion of the Kemp Manufacturing and Sheet Metal Products Co.’s workforce. A noted number of Ethnic Macedonians arrived in Toronto around 1910 and worked hard manufacturing jobs. The Globe noted two unfortunate events involving Macedonian employees of the company: in 1909, Peter Dassil, aged 17, was instantly killed after being jammed between the floor of a freight hoist and the ceiling; and in 1910, Christo Tomie, aged 22, drowned in the Don River near Riverdale Park.

In 1896, The Globe described an ‘old fashioned tea meeting’, organized by Mr Thomas A. Scott, ‘a colored man’, held at the African Methodist church. He was employed by the company for twenty years. The event had members of the Kemp Manufacturing Co. and the Wrought Iron Range Co.

The End of an Era

In 1927, Steel Metal Products Co merged with the McClary Manufacturing Co. and the Thomas Davidson Manufacturing Co. to form General Steel Wares Limited. The new company continued to operate the River Street plant for another fifty years. A. E. Kemp did not head the new company.

The General Steel Ware Co before demolition, 1964.
Credit: City of Toronto Archives

General Steel Wares closed the River Street plant in 1964 and shifted production to Montreal, Fergus, and London. The building sat vacant until the construction of a 3-tower, 984-suite apartment complex requiring Ontario Municipal Board approval was built on the site. It makes up part of today’s Regent Park neighbourhood.

The southeast corner of Gerrard Street East and River Street, 2019.
Credit: Google Maps

Two Amazing Rooftop Views of Toronto’s The Ward

In the early 1900s, St. John’s Ward or familiarly just ‘The Ward’ was a dense, immigrant enclave in the central core of the City of Toronto. The neighbourhood was roughly bound by Queen Street, College Street, Yonge Street, and University Avenue, and housed some of the city’s first Black, Jewish, Chinese, Irish, and Italian colonies. Two early 20th-century rooftop photos provide interesting overhead views of the physical makeup of the district.

The first rooftop view was taken in 1920 by iconic Toronto photographer William James from the top of the Alexandra Palace Apartments, formerly located at 184 University Avenue opposite the terminus of Gerrard Street West on the edge of The Ward.

The southeasterly scene below and far beyond the Alexandra Palace Apartments is fascinating. In the foreground is a great visualization of University Avenue’s history as two separate streets. Among the recognizable landmarks are Old City Hall and the T. Eaton Co. factory complex in the background (more on this further down), the Hester How School at centre-left, the Presto-O-Lite factory and the Toronto House of Industry at centre, and the African Methodist Episcopal Church, First Baptist Church, and Maclean Publishing Co factories at centre-right. Interspersed is a dense grid of low-rise housing and other structures which ultimately came to define The Ward.

There was another photograph also taken by James from the Alexandra Apartments, this one dated to “circa 1920”. Although generally quite similar, noticeable differences exist between this and the 1920 photo, most visibly that the latter is a much broader view of the same general area of The Ward.

While the date of the zoomed-in image is approximate, it almost certainly precedes 1920. The main differences between this and the 1920 photo is the lack of the Prest-O-Lite Factory (built 1917) and the northernmost Eaton’s factories (also built 1917). The most important detail, however, is the Eaton’s Annex building, which appears under construction. The store opened in 1913, which likely dates the image to 1912 or 1913.

The Alexandra Palace Apartments (also simply called the ‘Alexandra Apartments’, ‘The Alexandra Palace’, or ‘The Palace’) was a 7-storey, luxury apartment building constructed in 1904 during Toronto’s first apartment building boom, meaning it was one of the first of its kind in the city. The architect was the prolific George W. Gouinlock, who also designed the Temple Building. Famous residents included tycoon E.P. Taylor and Ontario Hydro founder Sir Adam Beck (the old Ontario Hydro Headquarters was directly north of the apartment). It is said that residents moved into the Palace to retire.

In the 1920s, the Palace went from apartment house to apartment hotel with a dining room already in its offerings. In the 1940s, the building was slated to become a nurses’ residence for Sick Children’s Hospital. By the 1950s, the building ceased to be a residence and was heavily remodelled to be a modern office building, losing much of its original exterior features. In 1968, the Alexandra Apartments building was demolished.

Postcard of The Alexandra, Queen’s Park Avenue, Toronto, Canada’s Finest Apartment House, 1910. Source: Toronto Public Library.

Postcard views of the Alexandra Palace, 1910s. Credit: Chuckman’s Photos.

The second rooftop photograph comes from the top of an Eaton’s factory tower once located adjacent to the Church of the Holy Trinity. Like the Alexandra Apartments picture, it was taken by William James. It is dated “circa 1910.”

The view is looking northwesterly over The Ward and has several common landmarks with the 1920 Alexandra Apartments image, such as Toronto House of Industry, the Hester How School, and the Grace Church. In the foreground along Bay Street (at the time called Terauley Street) and Dundas Street (Agnes Street) are the Terauley Street Synagogue, the Lyric Yiddish Theatre, and Police Station #2 (which appears to have officers in its yard). As with The Palace image, there are also the tightly packed streets of tiny residences, many undoubtedly housing men and women who were employed by Eaton’s. Finally, the distinctive rooflines of Queen’s Park and Toronto General Hospital loom far in the distance (with the Alexandra Apartments somewhere nearby).

The Eaton’s factory itself where James captured the image was a 12-storey structure located adjacent to the Church of The Holy Trinity. It was built around 1910 in a period when the Eaton’s footprint in the area expanded from a single store at 190 Yonge Street in 1883 to encompass at least half the block between Yonge, Bay, Queen and Dundas Streets by 1920. The factory was demolished in the 1970s when other Eaton’s factories and warehouses were razed in part to make way for the Eaton Centre (The Eaton’s Annex store referenced earlier was destroyed by fire in 1977).

The Eaton’s image is dated “circa 1910”, which is likely accurate as it is very comparable to the “circa 1920, but likely 1912-3” Alexandra Apartments photo. The Prest-O-Lite factory does not appear in the image, thus 1910-1917 is a fair timeframe.

Today, if the two William James rooftop photos were recreated, they would be taken from Mount Sanai Hospital and the Bell Trinity Square office building, respectively. Ironically, the Alexandra Apartments and the Eaton’s factory were both constructed and demolished in similar periods: the 1900s to 1910s and 1960s to 1970s. The dwellings, houses of worship, and businesses of The Ward also largely disappeared by the 1950s as lands were expropriated for various projects. The district continued to change since then until the present-day, making these century-old views a far cry to today’s world.

Fifty Years Since The Fire: Memories of The Tam

The Tam and its golf and country club was a beloved local Toronto landmark in Agincourt and Scarborough, which served not only as a hub of sporting activity for golf, hockey, skating, and curling, but also as a social gathering place.

October 3rd, 2021 marks 50 years since a fire that devastated the recreation centre of the Tam O’Shanter Golf, Curling, and Skating Club.

The historical events of the fire and preceded and proceeded it have been documented, but what stands out are the associated memories by its patrons. Here are some of them in a sort-of oral history collection:

“The thing about the Tam that made it so beloved was that it was a public club that you could pay as you play. You could join a membership but you could also swim and picnic all day for 25 cents. Agincourt in those days was so rural but kids could roam safely all the over the farm lanes and village streets back in the day when you had to be in by dark. The golf course “Newton’s” as Johnny Evelyn the golf pro used to call them, were everywhere collecting golf balls, working in the pro shop, caddying and dreaming of being a golfer. So many were characters in their own right. Every Saturday there would be 3 or 4 weddings which my Dad [Alastair “Big Al”] oversaw ( in either his kilt or his dinner suit/ tux) in addition to all the other sports, banquets and bonspiels so it was always a mad house of get it ready, run it, tear it down set up for the next one. My Mum [Elizabeth “Libby”] did flowers, booked the waitresses and bartenders. In the early days she would sit at the door and take tickets. On New Years eve 1955 my Dad was in a pickle because my Mum was the event hostess and called him just before it was to start saying too bad I’m in labour… and the joke goes he asked her if she could just “hold it for a few hours”.”

“Another thought that will stir up memories is that the Tam had the best toboggan hill anywhere !!! Super steep and fast and the best part there was the creek at the bottom. At one time or another we all went for a dunk and had to walk home as total icicles when winter was real winter. No parents , we were all free range. Across the road was Patterson’s lane between old farmsteads and it was a short cut back to the post war subdivisions that had sprung up around the schools (Agincourt public and Collegiate/ North Agincourt PS. and others). My mum says you should ask for memories of people who were married at the Tam … lots of great tales I’m sure.”

“The golf ball was right at the corner of Kennedy Rd and Sheppard. My mum told me someone cut it down as a Halloween prank and it was never re-erected.”
Kandie Learmonth

The following Tam promotional material are by the Peterborough Post Card Co. and Canadian Post Card Co, as provided by Kandie Learmonth.

Postcard of Aerial view of the Tam probably mid to late 60s. Far right is our house bottom right and Sparkhalls across the road.

Banquets Halls set up for an event opened up all the way (there were 3 dividers) with stone fireplaces at the end and middle.

Tam O’Shanter Logo. Photo courtesy Kandie Learmonth.

My dad Alastair Learmonth with the giant gold ball at the corner of Kennedy Road and Sheppard Avenue, circa mid 50’s

The following photos are courtesy the Toronto Telegram, as provided by Kandie Learmonth.

Bill Sparkhall in front of aerial view of The Tam

Curling lounge, Mike Housey (2nd Left) and my dad Alastair (3rd Left)

John Diefenbaker at a Young PC banquet on Wed. June 3, 1964

John Evelyn and George Hozy at the Sportsman Show. Woman on the easal is Verna Askin who have just won a prestiguous hostess award.

The Golf ball with William Sparkhall and my dad Alaistair

“I grew up on Birchmount Road between Shephard and Finch in the late 50s to about mid 60s. Attended L’Amoreaux Public School and later started high school at Sir John A MacDonald before having to move from Birchmount due to a subdivision being built in place of our nice open fields ….. One house down with a field in between was a tee-off for the Tam O’Shanter. Many weekends (especially during the summer) were spent either being a caddy for the golfers up to the next hole, finding lost golf balls in the field (and at times pretending we didn’t see them and standing on them until golfer gave up looking), then taking those same balls and putting them into the ball washer and reselling them to the next set of golfers. Remember specifically one weekend raising an extra $10 so my best friend and I could go to the CNE (when you could survive on $10/day and free food at the food building). There was a little house that I believe was part of Tam O’Shanter at this Tee-off, and was rented out to various families over the years and an apple orchard right next to this. We’d climb the trees, pick the apples (even if green, we’d take a salt shaker to eat them). Not too far down from that was a creek that ran under Birchmount where I would take pickle jars and collect tadpoles and bring home and watch them develop. Also after a rain I’d go out onto road and collect the tiny little toads that would come out. Once at the creek I caught a snapping turtle, brought it home and kept in our sub-pump hole in basement until it bit me and I took it back. Right down the back of my house was a small ‘forest’ which we used sometimes to go over to the Tam to go swimming, etc. I took a pickle jar down to this ‘forest’ one day and caught a bat which was hanging upside down on a branch, and brought it home. That was the first time I saw my mother’s hair stand straight up. She made my brother return it. I also picked my mother a bouquet of Trilliums and she nearly fainted. She rushed me in the door to make sure no one saw me. Apparently was not supposed to pick this type of flower. LOL At the Tam we would go swimming regularly, I joined a bowling group there one year. I remember they had, I believe, two St. Bernard dogs (one being named Tammy) who regularly came over to our tee-off on Birchmount with the workers when they came to clean up.”
Pat Woodcock (nee Everingham)

Tam O Shanter played a big part in my life. I was a junior member there in the early sixties and learned most of my game. My dad was a real estate salesman and he would drop me off at 8am. He would return as late as 9pm and John Evelyn the pro or Doug Day the assistant would tell him where I could be found..usually with my “shag bag” around the third green where I practiced chipping till dark.

When the hockey school was on I used to have lunch with Peter Mahovolich and Kent Douglas. Can you imagine what a thrill it was for a 11, 12, and 13 year old boy to lunch with those guys.

I had a friend who was three years older than I was and he worked on the course. He met a figure skater there and they have now been married over 50 years!

I remember the fire. I parked on a hill overlooking the property and watched part of my youth disappear. It was very sad.
Dave Beaven

A hole in one at the Tam O’Shanter, 1961
Courtesy: Dave Beaven

Often the Tam burned down a new restaurant went there. It was called Zum Kloster Keller. I don’t think it’s still there. In October of 1978 I was married from that restaurant. My dad was the chef there. It was emotional reading all the posts. I grew up from aged 10 in the Warden and Huntingwood area. Went to Holy Spirit then Leacock. My brothers and I were air cadets at the portable on the Leacock parking lot. Moved to birchmount and Shepherd in later high school. Thanks for the post and the memories
Diane E Webb

For more information and memories on the Tam O’Shanter, read here.

Do you have a memory to share? Leave a comment below or email bob@scenesto.com.

When Taddle Creek stank: Why the river was lost

Note: This article first appeared in Spacing Magazine, Issue 56. It has been reproduced here with permission.

In the late nineteenth century, Taddle Creek between Bloor and College Streets was a risk to public health. The waterway was then known as University Creek, since it passed through the grounds of the recently formed University of Toronto. It was considered a nuisance by everyone who commented on the unpleasant situation.

Once part of a picturesque natural landscape, by 1873 the state of University Creek had begun to decline, and it worsened over the next decade. Although arguably not the filthiest waterway in Toronto at the time (the Don River or Garrison Creek may have taken that title), the stream was essentially an open sewer.

Watercolour by Lucius O’Brien entitled University College, showing McCaul’s Pond on Taddle Creek, 1876. Credit: University of Toronto Archives.

The cause of the filth was sewage flowing from the nearby Village of Yorkville. The Toronto suburb was its own independent political entity at the time and, in the 1870s, its water supply and drainage were proving inadequate. Consequently, residents on Prince Arthur, Elgin, and Lowther Avenues, as well as on the north side of Bloor Street West, discharged their waste directly into the creek. There were also reports that McMaster College (now the Royal Conservatory) draining “refuse water from the sinks and water closets” into the stream as well.

Citizens called on the University of Toronto and City of Toronto to close the creek and hold Yorkville accountable, but little was accomplished.

And so, University Creek stank. McCaul’s Pond – the connected man-made pond named for the school’s first president – was a cesspool. Winds carried the stench as far north as Bloor Street, south to College Street, west to St. George Street, and east to North Street (now part of Bay Street). Above all, the University Creek nuisance posed a danger to the well-being of the approximately six hundred students and faculty at the University, the residents living around Queen’s Park, and visitors to the park.

University of Toronto Campus Map of area bounded by College, St. George, Bloor and Surrey Place, 1859. Credit: University of Toronto Archives.

The mismanagement of University Creek had consequences for the health of Torontonians. According to The Globe, dwellers close to the waterway had become “accustomed” to the odour, but their sense of smell had been “deadened” as if they were working in a “soap boiling factory.” A former alderman of the city was said to have been “laid up” by an unspecified illness caused by the creek.

Ultimately, however, an even greater fear grew out of the University Creek debacle. The impacts of wide-spreading diseases like cholera were well-known in Toronto by this time. The Town of York had experienced a bout of cholera in 1832, which took the lives of several hundred residents from a total population of 5,000. Two years later, another epidemic of the same kind hit what was by then the City of Toronto. These events led to greater awareness of sanitation and the creation of a municipal public health board. When Dr. John Snow uncovered the disease’s water-born roots in England in the 1850s, Toronto was, in theory, better placed to understand and respond to the disease.

McCaul’s Pond, present site of Hart House, circa 1880. Credit: University of Toronto Archives.

But a cholera outbreak swept through Europe and Egypt beginning in 1881. By 1883, the outcry over the state of Toronto’s waterways and the tangible possibility of an epidemic heightened concerns even more. At least two news articles unceremoniously likened University Creek to the ”River Styx” of Greek mythology. Another commentator argued in The Globe that cholera resulting from the stream would have been a ”blessing in disguise” as it would have spurred officials into action after a decade of inertia.

In 1883, public health reports on University Creek finally spurred action. Toronto’s medical health officer in commenting on the state of the polluted stream and its ”effluvia,” suggested the only effectual remedy was the construction of a sewer and, in the short term, the use of ”disinfectants.” In an interview with The Globe, Dr. John Oldright of the Provincial Board of Health echoed those recommendations. With that, the matter was turned over to the Board of Works, which solicited tenders for a University Creek sewer. The City Treasurer quoted a total cost of $11,200.

In 1884, the City Engineer received orders to proceed with the project, and the stream was encased underground. By May, the southern section of the University Creek sewer was completed first, connecting it to the existing Murray Street sewer. This portion ran through the grounds of “Sleepy Hollow”, the estate of Lieutenant-Governor John Beverley Robinson, on the south side of College Street between University Avenue and McCaul Street, “so that surplus water that may collect at the approach will be carried away”. The northern section was completed later that year.

Hering & Gray: Plan of the City of Toronto, Proposed Intercepting Sewers and Outfall, 1889. Credit: Fort York and Garrison Common Maps

Just as University Creek disappeared underground, references to the waterway’s name faded in the decades following the construction of the new sewer. Today, Taddle Creek – the common name for the stream since about the 1920s — lives on in the legends of lost Toronto. The ravine-like landscape of Philosopher’s Walk hides the north end of University Creek while Hart House and Hart House Circle sit over the former McCaul’s Pond. With some recent calls to daylight this portion of Taddle Creek, perhaps one day this long-buried creek may live again, only now, its fresh, clean water will be a public health benefit rather than a curse.