Archive for July, 2006

Pun of the day

Clean as a whistle, thanks to

O.K., well so the pun isn’t that funny. But the tenement is spanking clean (even if Jean Drapeau is just about to expropriate and tear it down). It kind of makes you wonder why they don’t use that “hydro silica” process anymore. Hey, wait a minute! Doesn’t “hydro” mean “water” and “silica” “sand?” Could it just be a kinder, gentler way of saying  “sandblasting?” Well, what do I know? But maybe if you own a dirty building you’re planning to sell, this constitutes good advice. So maybe I should put one of those “donate here” buttons for those of you who pocket a tidy profit because of this ad. But get real, we all know it’s location, location, location. I’ve never heard, spotlessness, spotlessness, spotlessness and I’ve got the wine glasses to prove it — Calgonite, anyone? From The Gazette (Montreal), March 24, 1953.

Parking: the sport of kings

Falconry lesson one: leave birds in car, crowd appears. From The Gazette (Montreal), 1953.

Well, can you blame them for leaving the bird in the car? What with all the folks scarfing down fowl of every description, it’s an owner’s duty to spare his beloved falcon that. What appeals to me about this story is the sheer filler-ness of it all. And the idea that life in the fifties — and that goes for the 1850s and 1750s, etc., too — was every bit as colourful as it is today. From the Gazette, March 24, 1953.

Montreal chasm, circa 1953

South end of Mount Royal tunnel in 1953.

Here’s a shot from yesteryear that Kate M. might find interesting. (She asked about the Dorchester Bridge — see comments.) This picture’s from a 1953 newspaper article. It shows the south end of the tunnel running through Mount Royal. You’re looking up Mcgill College from, I believe, atop the Dorchester Street Bridge. As you can see, a lot of latter-day landmarks have yet to be built.

Who’s that girl?

Odd fashion wear of the fifties. From the Montreal Herald, Feb. 1953.

Who, indeed! Maybe we’ll never know. But I imagine any paparazzi at the fashion unveiling let out a collective groan. (From the Montreal Herald, Feb. 1953)

Mayor’s brother - accident or suicide?

Mayor's brother 'falls' -- it's ruled accidental. But an alderman later says he saw the guy climb the rail ... doesn't change a thing. Anyway, the guy died after decelerating rapidly from the Dorchester Bridge -- now the site of the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in downtown Montreal. It's a May, 1933, cover story in the Montreal Daily Herald.

Caption reads: “The above photo shows the spot where Charles Rinfret, prominent Montreal businessman, met his death this morning. From the railing of the Dorchester Street bridge the body plunged eighty feet, striking the side of a CNR train which was passing under the bridge and bouncing off to a point beside the tracks indicated by the arrows.” - Front Page, Wednesday, May 10, 1933. The Montreal Daily Herald.

The story:

Charles Rinfret Plummets to death

Instantly Killed by 80-ft. Drop to Railroad Tracks

“Probable accident” was Coroner’s Finding in Rinquest Onquest — No Eyewitnesses of Actual Mishap Called to Give Testimony at Inquest

Body Hits Train

“Probably accident” was the verdict of Coroner Lorenzo Prince this morning after a private inquest into the death of Francois-Louis Charles Rinfret, aged 51, brother of Hon. Fernand Rinfret, M.P. Mayor of Montreal, who was instantly killed shortly before 9 o’clock this morning when his body plunged eighty feet from the top of the railing on the Dorchester Bridge, hit a moving train and caromed* on to the platform.

No Eye-Witness Heard.

No witness who saw the tragedy were called and in closing the proceedings the Coroner said that in view of the lack of testimony from eyewitnesses he would render a verdict of “probable accident.”

Alderman Bell who said at the City Hall this morning the he saw a man climb over the five foot bridge railing and take the fatal leap was not called upon to testify. He said that not until he arrived at the City Hall this morning was he aware that the man was the mayor’s brother.

The deceased, who lived at 4840 Westmount Avenue Westmount, was also a brother of the Hon Justice Thibaudeau Rinfret of the Supreme Court of Canada, and was a past president and director of Munderloh and Company.

Remains Identified.

The crushed remains of the well-known local club member and businessman were identified at the morgue this morning by Mayor Rinfret and by directors of the Munderlog firm.

Saw Body Fall.

Francis Portugais, a Canadian National Railway brakeman who was releasing the steam brakes of some stationary cars near the scene of the mishap sated that he was about 20 feet from the actual spot where the body dropped after striking the side of one of the cars.

He said he was going about his usual work when he noticed a dark object falling. On looking up he realized it as a man’s body falling head first. A moment later it had struck the ground. He immediately went for aid.

The deceased it was stated had been in ill health for several years and was planning a long vacation in Europe.

Before leaving the city Call, Ald. Legault and his confreres repressed deep regrets at the untimely death of Mayor Rinfrit’s brrother. At the meeting tomorrow, a resolution of sympathy will be passed by the council.

* Main definition of verb “to carom,” from Merriam-Webster Online: 1 : to strike and rebound : GLANCE

Belmont Park — not just for swells

May 1951 ad from the Herald. An amusement park like no other.

Pierre Trudeau’s dad was a part owner in the ’30s. Here’s a good page about the defunct amusement park. Went looking for the site not long ago. It’s all north end swells now. Once upon a time it was packed with the hoi polloi. I have a merry memory of a primitive centrifuge with seats hanging by chains. Up, up and around. The ad’s from The Montreal Daily Herald, May 1951. (If you find Belmont Park interesting, read this page about Dominion Park — one of its predecessors.)

Women’s weather: huh?

From The Gazette (Montreal), 2 April 1958.

Imaginary ballroom? Women’s weather? Was life like that in the fifties? No wonder the world’s screwed up!

Dear lonelyhearts

A 1953 ad from a Montreal newspaper

A guest column by Morrie Schlepp:

I should have danced all night. Instead I watched a complete season of Dean Martin’s celebrity roast! What was I thinking? What a waste of time: nobody even teased Don Knotts about the real reason he divorced Loralee Czuchna in the early ’80s. Hey, what’s this? And ad for dance lessons? Think I’ll go. Now where’s my cologne? I thought it was around here near the deodorant and toothpaste. What? No deodorant and toothpaste. I’ll go anyway.

As they say: No matter, never mind. No mind? Never matter!

Dirty gloves?

From the Montreal Daily Herald, May 1933When was the last time some poor, lost soul walked up to you in the street and asked you for directions?

Yesterday? Day before?

But admit it, dear friend, you were unable to provide them. Oh, sure, you knew which way to point them out — “The Turkish bath is over there,” you might have said, right index finger proudly raised in the direction of some fleabag hotel.

But you didn’t, did you? And why? Let’s not kid ourselves, ladies and gentlemen. It was because of the major reason North Americans have stopped offering directions these days. Yes, I am talking about dirty gloves.

More and more, in shame, we keep our hands deep in our pockets. Rather than risk embarrassment, we’ll say, “Sorry, don’t know,” and keep on shuffling along, cursing our yellow-stained kids or nicotine-marred felt finger socks.

But I am here to give you the good news, my friends. Yes, you too can have spotless hand warmers. There is no longer any need to dress your digits in anything but the cleanest, look-at-me gloves.

It sounds too good to be true, but it is no fabrication. Modern science and the ingenuity of capitalist service have conspired to make it possible for you to have your mitts cleaned 24 hours a day!

Will wonders never cease!

Martha Allan — pioneer theatre lady

Martha Allan, a great Montrealer. She was born rich and endured her share of tragedy — she lost her only two brothers to the Great War. She was courageous enough to drive an ambulance in World War I. Injured, she returned home, never married, and was the last member of the pioneering Allan shipping clan. Today, the home she grew up in — Ravenscrag — is occupied by the Allan Memorial Hospital. Miss Allan lived in the coach house for many years and held lively meetings with theatre types, sinking her energy, money, connections and passion into the task of building a vital theatre industry in Montreal. She was synonymous with the Montreal Repertory Theatre (guys like William Shatner and Christoher Plummer passed through that outfit). She largely laid the groundwork for a great national theatre scene. Click here to read an article about Miss Allan that was published in the Montreal Daily Herald on Wednesday, May 10, 1933.

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