Memories that I treasure.....
                                                   
                                   By Alexander Frederick McQuaid

 
My father, Albert Frederick McQuaid was born at Long Pointe Lake, Gowganda Ontario on August 19th, 1921.  His parents were farmers, and  when he was a child, they lived in the Picton area of Prince Edward County.  Dad's parents were members of the Morman Church.  He was ordained as a Deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood on September 11th, 1935.

My mother, Dorothy May Beaton was born at North Bay Ontario on February 27th, 1922.  When mom was born, she was very tiny and not expected to live.  She was fed barley water and sugar to strengthen her, and Doctor Campbell would visit the home every day to check on her progress.  The doctor wanted Grandma and Grandpa to let him take mom go to live with him in his home where he could better care and provide for her but they did not allow that to happen.

 
Dad and Mom were married in Dad's parent's home at 36 Ferndale Avenue, Toronto Ontario by David A Smith - Minister from Church of Jesus Christ & Latter Day Saints on October 30th, 1941.  Witnesses to the event were Dad's uncle Fred Barnes & his sister  Marion Selina McQuaid Edwards.

I was born in Toronto Ontario on Thursday May 28th, 1942 at 11:25 PM in the Toronto Western Hospital (Alexander Wing.....Dr. Purdy and Nurse Hamilton).

Dad departed for Fredericton New Brunswick with the Governor General's  Horse Guards military corps for training prior to being shipped to Europe where he served in England, France & Holland when I was 2 1/2 months old, on August 13th, 1942.

             

My brother Albert George McQuaid was born at 8:30 AM Monday December 13th 1943 at St Joseph Hospital in North Bay Ontario (Dr. D A Campbell & Nurse Allen). He died  that same day due to heart failure.  His complexion was described as being fair, with blue eyes and weighed about 8 lbs.  Grandpa Beaton arranged with Martyn Funeral Home to bury the infant in Terrace Lawn Cemetery, North Bay Ontario. There is no marker on his gravesite, but someday I want to have one placed there in remembrance of him.  

During the period that dad as serving overseas, Mom and I lived in Toronto Ontario.  Mom worked for Pullen Doll company sewing dolls.  We used to take our food ration books and meat coupons  to Big Bear or Oxenham's grocery store and to Hubbard's meat market to buy  food which was very scarce at the time due to the war.

                   

Dad returned home from serving in the second world war in November 1946.   Mom and I  greeted Dad at the Coliseum in Toronto Exhibition grounds.  I  waved a white handkerchief that mom had made and embroidered for me with the words "Welcome Home Daddy". The soldiers marched around the coliseum and lined up in alphabetical order by surname.  When they called out the"Mc's", dad came running to where Mom and I were standing waiting for him.  He hugged and kissed us both and mom and dad were crying tears of happiness.   We walked home from the Exhibition grounds.  Dad with his kit-bag over his shoulder and his arm around Mom, and Mom carrying me in her arms.

 

At the time of dad's return to Canada, mom and I were living at 446 Ossington Avenue above a dry goods store that was operated by Bill & Thora Rose.  On the evening that dad returned home from overseas, he was greeted by family members and friends. 
 
In December 1946, a fire started in the stairwell of the dry goods store below the apartment where we were living.  Firemen came and everyone was led out of the building in their night-clothes to the street below.  The temperature was very cold and icicles formed on the ground and building from the water that the firemen were spraying onto the fire.  Smoke filled the building and soot covered the walls of our apartment from the fire.
 
Dad, Mom and I used to walk to Sunnyside which was an amusement park located at the corner of Queen Street and Roncesvales Avenue.  Dad and I would ride on the flying ship and Dad would hold me tight in his arms so that I wouldn't  fall out of the ride.   Sometimes we would have a glass of honeydew, some carmel popcorn or a candy apple while we were walking around the midway.  One of Dad and Mom's friends, Mrs Brown used give us free candy apples whenever she saw us.  Sometimes  Dad would try his luck at the midway games, and he would win a prize.  I can remember him winning a small plaster bull-dog, a kewpi doll and a balloon whistle with a bamboo stem and a couple of coloured feathers tied to the end
 
When I was just five years old, I went shopping all by myself to Hillier's Drug Store which was located up at the corner of Ossington Avenue and Foxley Street to buy mom a birthday present.  I bought her a tiny bottle of perfume for a quarter.
 
I also used to go to the grocery store for mom.  I usually went to Oxenham's because it was close to home, and also because I went to school with Catherine Oxenham, the grocer's daughter.   One time mom asked me to get some liver.  When I got it home and she opened the package, the meat was all green and starting to go bad so she bundled it back up and I took it back to the store and got my money back.  Another time, mom sent me to the store for some oatmeal.  When I got home and she opened the box, a moth flew out.  We bought some shredded wheat one time, and after the warm water and milk was added, little millworms floated to the surface.   
 
After the war, Dad got a job with Len & Fink as a truck driver.  We didn't have much money after the rent was paid, so food was scarce and sometimes we would just have macaroni without any sauce.  Mom would save the fatty drippings from meat, and we would use that instead of butter.   Sometimes Mom would fry a slice of bread in the fat drippings for our dinner because we couldn't afford to buy meat.
 
My playmate at the time, was Donna Marie Rose,  daughter of Bill and Thora Rose.  We were about the same age, and we used to play in front of the store Ossington Avenue that her parents owned or in the laneway behind the store.  One of our favourite places to explore and to visit, was the Lucky Elephant Popcorn factory.   They employees there always had a box of popcorn for Donna and I, and we would be given a prize of our choice from their stockroom.
 
Sometimes, Earl McGraw who was a friend and regular customer of the Rose's would buy Donna and I a bottle of Pepsi Cola and a Neilson's Jersey Milk chocolate bar or a popsicle. Donna and I would sit on the front step to enjoy the treat as we watched the streetcars and traffic pass in front of the store.  One time while we were sitting on the step, a car that was parked just up the street a little ways started to roll forward.   It mounted the curb and it was headed straight for us.  Old  Mr. Sol Friendly, the man who owned the shop next door ran out and stopped the car before it hit us.
 
My sister Betty Anne McQuaid was born on March 9th, 1947 in Toronto General Hospital, Toronto Ontario.
 
While Mom was in the hospital, Dad's uncle Fred came to care for me.   He used to give me a bath every evening before bedtime, in a tub filled with warm water and  Lux soap flakes.   Uncle Fred used a long scrub brush to clean me, and bubbles would fly about everywhere.
 
I started kindergarten at Givens Street Public school in September 1945.  My cousin Marlene used to take Donna and I to school.  Sometimes my cousin Melville Duval would take us.   Melville's brother Donnie was also in my classroom. Some of my other classmates were Billy Whiteside and Bobby Blackburn.

On week-ends, Dad, Mom, Betty and I would go for long walks.  Sometimes we would walk to Christie Pits or Bellwoods Park and have a picnic, or we would walk along Dundas Street and up Davenport Avenue to the Planter's Peanut factory and back again.

When dad and mom bought a car, we would go for long rides out to Ajax and to Whitby. Sometimes we would get a buttered pecan skyscraper ice-cream cone, or fish and chips.   Dad used to always carry a salt shaker  and a bottle of malt vinegar  in the glove compartment of the car, just in case we bought some french-fries.  His favourite treat of all, was a pork-roll.   We would buy them from the local delicatessen and then drive down to the Exhibition grounds and park by the lake while we ate.  We also used to go down to the Old Mill on the Humber River quite often for a picnic.   One time our car broke down at the Humber River, and we had to walk about five miles back home to Ossington Avenue,  because we didn't have any bus fare to ride home.
 
After working at Len & Fink for quite a while, Dad quit and got a job with Campbell Soup Company in New Toronto.   He used to have to climb inside the big stainless steel soup pots to clean them out.
 
When I was in grade 2, we moved to Wellesley Street.  The house that we moved to was located almost at the end of the street, and there  was a cliff that overlooked Riverdale Zoo.  My playmates and I used to lay on our stomachs and look over the edge of the cliff at the zoo below.  We could see into the polar bear's den, and sometimes you could hear the sound of the animals calling out.

 

I went to Rose Avenue Public School, and used to have to pass in front of the Necropolis Cemetery  and Crematorium.  I was afraid of breathing in the smoke from the Crematorium, so I would run the entire length of the block twice a day on my way to and from school. 
 
It was very cold in our apartment during the winter months.  The landlady used to burn bundles of newspaper that had been soaked in water and salt because it was cheaper than wood or coal.   I can remember Uncle Bob visiting us one time. Uncle Bob and I went out to the hardware store to buy some stove pipes so that we could hook up the space heater in our apartment.  While we were out, Mom cooked one of my all time favourite dishes.... curried rice and chicken.  I can still smell and taste that delicious meal today.  
 
Dad started working as a Carman for Canadian Pacific Railroad at West Toronto Station in 1949, which were located at corner of Dundas Street and Dupont Avenue in Toronto's Junction area.

My brother Larry John McQuaid was born on August 11th, 1949 in Toronto Ontario.
 
On May 10th, 1950 when I returned from school, I found Mom sitting at the top of the steps leading to our apartment crying.   She was holding a telegram that she had received to inform her that Grandpa Beaton had died.  I can recall taking the train with Mom to go up to North Bay for the funeral.  It was a long ride and the train stopped at every little milk-stop along the way to let passengers get on and off.  
 
A few months after the funeral, Mom and Dad decided that they would relocate to North Bay to live with Grandma because she was all alone.  Mom, Betty, Larry and I moved to North Bay ahead of dad.  Dad stayed behind and continued to work for the railroad at the West Toronto Car Shops, while he awaited word on his application for a transfer to North Bay.  The transfer was not approved because of the lack of available work in North Bay's Car Shops, so after a few months Dad joined us in North Bay.  While Dad was still working in Toronto, he was boarding at a home on Hook Avenue which was within walking distance of the Car Shops.  He would write to us every week and sometimes, he would send us a parcel containing some candy and maybe a colouring book or small toy.
 
We missed Dad a lot while he was away from us, but when he did join us in North Bay it was great being together again, and he was able to get a job with the  Singer Sewing Machine Company as a sales and serviceman.  
 
One of the first things that Mom did when we arrived at Grandma's house, was to enroll me into school at McPhail Street Dr. Carruther's Public School.  Mom wore a navy blue dress with white polka-dots on it, and white high-heeled shoes.  She looked very pretty.  We met the school Principal, Mr. Tom Cummings.  Mr. Cummings and I soon became very good friends, and he used to have me deliver the school mail during the morning recess period.  My grade 2 teacher was Mrs. Curren. A very nice lady who lived in a big brick house on King Street.

 Life as a kid in North Bay was totally different from what life was like in Toronto.  

The pace was slower in North Bay, but there was always lots to do.  Unlike Toronto, you got to know and to play with all the kids on the block .... Gary & Linda Thompson; Emmeline, Peter & Stella McCool; David & Donald Jacobs; Clifford Collins; David Lascelle; Walter Woodruff; Judy Landry; Ronny Boyer, Lynn Ordage, Marcel & Monica Frechette; Joyce & Barbara Lindsay; Karen Plause,  and our cousins Don, Anne & Billy McGinnis. 

We would ride our bikes all around town; play street hockey and baseball in the centre of the road and  hide & seek and tag in the neighbour's yards.  During the summer and fall months, there were potato, weiner and corn roasts in the evenings, and we would catch lightening bugs in Mason Jars.  Sometimes we would pitch tents in the back yard. and have a sleep-out.

There were the neighbourhood gangs and rivalry between the Protestants and the Catholics (McPhail & St Rita's schools).  At least once a month there would be an argument that led to a fight, but you could always count on your buddies to come along and bail you out of trouble.

Silverwood's Dairy would come around early every morning with their horse and buggy to deliver milk, and the horse would trot along without the driver to tell him when or where to stop.  You could always hear the milk bottles rattling in the metal basket that the milkman used to carry from house to house.  We used to put the milk tickets and sometimes change inside of the empty milk bottle that was left just outside the front door for the milkman to pick up and replace with our daily order.  If the bottle had been washed out and not quite dry when it was placed outside in the cold weather, the tickets and money would freeze inside the bottom of the bottle, and the milkman would be upset.  In the very cold weather, the cream on top of the milk would freeze and swell up so that it would push the cap off of the top of the bottle.   There were always a lot of cats in the neighbourhood, and they would walk from house to house licking the cream that protruded from the top of the milk bottles.

In the afternoons, the bakery would make their rounds with fresh bread, buns, pies and cakes.  Like the milkman, they also delivered their goods with a horse and buggy.   In the wintertime, they used a horse-drawn sled instead of the buggy to carry their goods, and us kids used to hang onto the back of the sled to catch a free slide up the street.

We didn't have a refrigerator for several years, but we did have an ice-box.  The iceman would make his rounds and during the summer months, all the kids on the block would follow him from house to house, to collect the ice chips that would be on the back of his truck.

We had a double lot, and so each spring we would plant a huge garden of potatoes, beans, peas, carrots and cucumbers.   That always meant there a lot of weeding, hoeing, watering  and maintenance for us kids to do on a regular basis.....one thing we soon learned is that you would never say that you were bored, or else you would find yourself out rooting around the garden for weeds . Thanks to the horses, there was always a supply of manure for the plants......and in the winter time, great hockey pucks.  In the early summer, we had to pick the potato bugs off the plants before they ate the flowers, otherwise there would be no potatoes to dig up in the fall.  We would sometimes pick a hundred or more of these little striped bugs at a time from the plants.  In the fall, we would gather up the beans for mom to pickle and dig up the potatoes.  Mom would collect six-quart baskets from the grocery store whenever she could, and then in the fall, Betty, Larry and I would go from house to house selling the fresh potatoes to neighbours. 

Unlike most homes in the neighbourhood, we had a huge woodstove in the kitchen and a  Quebec Heater in the living room.   That of course meant a lot of kindling and wood needed to be cut so that our meals could be cooked, and coal had to be shoveled so that our home would be heated during the winter months......Then there were the ashes that needed to be sifted and emptied.   Like I said earlier, there was always lots to be done.

 
 Dad used to get paid every Thursday, so that meant every Friday there would be the trip to  Smyth's Grocery Store.  Mom would put together a list of things that were to be bought with clear instructions that I was to make sure that the vegetables were fresh and firm; that the meat was lean with no signs of aging, and that the cans were not dented.  She would count out what she thought the bill should come to, and then hand me the money telling me not to lose it, and to make sure that I also got fifteen cents worth of mixed candy for us kids.  In the cold winter months, she would sometimes telephone Smyth's or Charette's Meat Market, and place the order with them for delivery to our home.
 
We always had a lot of company in our home on week-ends and during the summer months.  There were times, when there were twenty or more people at a time visiting with us.  The weekly regulars were my cousin Don and his wife Claudine, cousins Anne and Billy from next door, and Jimmy and Murial Hands who were friends of my cousin Ronnie.
 
Christmas was a busy time in our home.  For weeks before the big event us kids would read the Eaton's and Simpson catalogues from cover to cover, pointing out to whoever would listen exactly what we would like for Christmas. 

The mailman in those days used to make his rounds six days a week, and rarely passed by our home without stopping to leave a handful of Christmas cards and mail.  There were always parcels from relatives and friends in England and Holland and that of course meant that we would have to shop and sent off cards and parcels to their homes as well.

A couple of weeks before Christmas, Dad would get a tree for our living room.  Sometimes he would cut it himself and other times he would pick it out from one of the corner lots where trees were being sold.  Usually, he would pick out a spruce or a pine tree that was about eight feet tall.  After bringing the tree into the home so that it could thaw out, he would make a stand for it and set it up in a corner so that he could secure it with a bit of twine so that it wouldn't topple over.  Then out would come the treasured Christmas bulbs, lights, garland and icicles from previous years....yes, we used to carefully remove and save the icicles each year so that they could be re-used.  

About that same time each year, I would be handed seventy-five cents with instructions that I was to go to Harris Drug Store and either pick up a package of Margarita Cigars or a pack of Pic-a-Pac Pipe Tobacco for Dad.

Dad would drag a kitchen chair into the living room to stand on while he carefully placed the star on top of our tree, and he would then place the lights on the tree just so.   Once the lights had been placed on the tree and tested, Dad would sit in his armchair to watch Mom and us kids place the balls and icicles (one at a time) on the tree.

Delivery trucks from Eaton's and Simpson's would drop huge boxes off, but they would mysteriously disappear without any trace, and Mom and Grandma would be busy making Christmas cakes, cookies and plum puddings.

On Christmas Eve, we would each take one of Dad's socks (because his were the largest), pin our name on it, and then place it at the end of our bed to be filled by Santa when he visited our home.  

In the morning we would always find our sock filled to the brim with an apple, an orange, a bundle of nuts, some candy and a small toy.  We would lie quietly in bed munching on the treats while we waited to be called down to the living room so that we could open our presents.   This usually happened around 5:00 am. 

Once the gifts had been opened, inspected and played with for a few minutes, it would be time for breakfast, and we would all gather around the table for our morning meal.   Speaking of breakfasts, I will always remember Dad whenever I eat a boiled egg.....Just as I would place the spoon in my mouth, he would look at me and say "Gulp....Do you know where that egg came from?"...and then he would laugh while I tried to swallow down the mouthful of egg.

 
 At dinner time there was always a super large turkey on the table with all of the dressings, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, peas, and gravy.  What a feast it was, followed by Christmas pudding and Cake.
 
It was around 1958 when we got our first television.  Before that time, we would sit around the big Philco radio that sat in the living room listening to radio shows such as the Lux Theatre, Boston Blackie, The Shadow, John and Judy and Ma Perkins.

On weekends, us kids would sit watching the test pattern from sign-on,  until broadcasting began at around noon hour.  The first program we watched on the new television was Wild Bill Hickock.  Dad set the television up in the kitchen and placed rows of chairs so that we could watch the program together. 

When the television was relocated to the living room, we would all sit around each evening watching the programs until sign-off at midnight.  My cousin Billy used to join us almost every evening.  He would sit beside me and we would get so wrapped discussing the program at times that we would be told to either be quiet, or leave the room .

Reception was not the greatest at the beginning, so Dad would play repairman.  One time he had the back off of the television and he was probing around with a screwdriver in the back of the set.  All of a sudden there was a loud 'pop', and Dad jumped about six inches into the air.  He got a quite shock from the screwdriver touching the wiring in the back of the set, and from that time on, he was quite content to just move the rabbit-ears around the room for improved reception.

 
Dad had a great little workshop down at the bottom of the yard.   It was always an enjoyment to be able to visit and work with him. He had all kinds of tools and he was always making things. Dad taught me how to use and to care for the tools.  His one rule was "if you use it, put it back where you found it".

Every evening after dinner, Dad would have a snooze for an hour or so.   When he would awake,  he'd would have a coffee with Mom and then he would go down to his workshop for a couple of hours.

 

While Dad was puttering around his workshop, Mom would be busy cleaning and preparing our clothes for the next day.  In later years, Mom would draw small pictures on the back of business cards.  Each one of her tiny drawings is different,  and today there are perhaps 4,500 - 5,000 in her collection.

Mom was also an avid Post Card collector and over the years has collected an estimated 10,000 cards from various sources.

 
After graduating from Algonquin Composite Secondary School in 1960, I secured a job with Imperial Life Assurance Company of Canada in Toronto Ontario with the help or our next door neighbour, Lorraine Wyatt. I made arrangments to board with some of Mom's former friends  who lived in Toronto  on Foxley Avenue ( Lil, Dorothy and Bruce Dunsford), and  Dad drove me to Toronto on the Civic Holiday weekend.

While with the Imperial Life Assurance Company, I complete their Life Office Management and Sales Underwriting study courses and then enrolled at the University of Toronto where I studied Economics and Human Resources Management .

Imperial Life was a great place to work.   They had a very beautiful dining room for employees, complete with white linen table cloths, napkins and silverware.  Each week, they sold employees lunch tickets - 5 for $1.00, and served full course meals.  Helga, the waitress who was assigned to my table used to always save me an extra meal so that I could take it home after work for dinner. 

I had a crush on one of the elevator operators, and after a couple of weeks,  we started dating.  I used to arrive at work at least half-an hour early each day, just to ride up and down the elevator with Joan.  Joan had a beautiful personality and we got along great together.  In fact, at one time we were talking and thinking about getting married.  Joan's parents were very nice people as well, and lived at 120 Alton Avenue in the east end of Toronto.  Joan's mother used to do oil paintings as a hobby,  and her father Frank worked for the Double Day Book Company. He used give me a new book everytime I dropped by to visit them.  I didn't have to join the book club, and always had lots to read.

To be continued at some later date....

 

 
 
 Alexander Frederick McQuaid
December 18 2004
 

 


   

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