The Bracebridge I Used To Know

Photos by Suzanne Currie

A Preamble to Today’s Post

THE BRACEBRIDGE I USED TO KNOW

By Ted Currie

    The old ways and me being the contemporary version of Charles Dickens’ character, Fezziwig, with emphasis of course on his character being more precisely, “old Fezziwig.” And old Fezziwig, was a true traditionalist in his Victorian England, in the earth shattering, commonplace battering of the budding industrial revolution.  Fezziwig, you see, would not agree to sell out his small shop to the new “vested interest,” proportional to these aggressive industrial, business, social and cultural changes that liberated a great deal of investment to inspire more and then constant change from literally then to the present tense. He wished to keep up the old ways and traditions, and believed staunchly that there was more to a prosperous life than the accumulation of great wealth. It was Dickens sensitivity I suppose, that revealed how even the authors and artists of the day, worried about the cost of all these colliding interests and cultural eliminations in favor of other manifestations that hadn’t yet proven themselves of any great worth to the welfare of humanity in this pursuit of wealth. He gave us Fezziwig as an example of what can happen when the ruthlessness of change, often for change’s sake, is accepted without reservation; and thus what was old and dear becomes antiquated and outdated in usefulness to the new order of investors without mercy. I have never found a clearer example of my own values, and I have lived and suffered to keep all that we Curries still hold priceless when it comes to our own business exposure here in South Muskoka. We are in the fight of our business commitments right now, here in this fading year of 2021, simply because the demands on our family run enterprise have become borderline overwhelming. We have been worried about this eventuality, which for a majority of small business would be a most desirable windfall, and a most encouraging reality, in accounting terms, to carry in a portfolio to the bank’s business loans department. It might even seem that we are ungrateful for the uptick in business, in this post Covid lockdown period, and we understand how our concerns might be misunderstood. It’s something we don’t really want to do, that we are being forced to at the very least consider; being to expand our services, and increase our retail space to accommodate newly acquired inventory. But in the same discussion, of how to accommodate this expanding interest in our Gravenhurst business, we are rabidly dedicated to our longstanding family values, and our equal commitment to run the business on the manpower of two parents and two young lads. It’s the case now however, that we are constantly having to revisit the facts of our weekly business volume, asking the question whether we can survive much longer without being forced to seek an even bigger location, and even opening a second shop to handle our much appreciated business growth. Yet there are many precedents, and some I’ve been intimately involved with in the past, where business expansion was the exact wrong move, despite the positive numbers, simply because bigger meant more need for high cost improvements that inevitably created vulnerabilities in details such as cash flow. I’ve watched small businesses crash because they were only paying attention to what they wanted to absorb; not what should have been absorbed, that might have proved old Fezziwig correct, in wanting to keep a small, traditional business, with all its social / cultural attachments, because it was for all intents and purposes in Victorian England, much more humane than what was to replace it in the future.

     We haven’t changed our opinions on the matter, but admittedly, in this environment when house prices locally are heading skyward, and inflation affecting us in the grocery stores and at the gas pumps, it does seem extraordinarily volatile, and a time for more reflection than recklessly entering into unfettered expansion; and in our case, taking the surges of the past six months as meaning the rest of the year is going to be a parallel explosion of commerce. My point for writing this particular opening, was to highlight another time in my life when I was editor of a wonderfully appointed, historic, traditional, excitingly small but significant publication known then as The Herald-Gazette, located in one of the most historic buildings in the town; 27 Dominion Street. In the early 1980’s, gosh, I loved what it didn’t possess of big, cold hearted business. We weren’t ashamed of being a small town publication with big aspirations, and it was a joy to go to work every day because of this good-neighbor, close-staff reality, that was characteristic of the town where I had spent a good chunk of my childhood. It was a dream come true for me to be invited to join the staff at Muskoka Publications, and be part of its lengthy history in South Muskoka. I didn’t want it to change, and I suppose I was the most vocal opponent of those in management who wanted to become bigger and grander than what was already a class act and always a well received, honest, reliable publication without any attached enhancements that were in any way frivolous to the task of the day and week. I was indeed, even then, an old Fezziwig who didn’t want to let go of what had served the community so well for so long; maybe with a lesser profit margin, but by golly, with such a huge social / cultural goodwill attached as a most valuable, marketable provenance. It was eventually lost. I own the letters from the front of 27 Dominion Street, and they are now in a cardboard box in my shed. I plan to re-set them one day soon on a nice piece of vintage wood for my office here at Birch Hollow.

     I was the hold-out for the commonplace of a small business. I’m stubborn that way.

     THE OTHER COLD AND SNOWY MORNING, I HAD TO WAIT FOR SON ANDREW, WHO WAS SHOPPING FOR GUITAR EQUIPMENT, AT BRACEBRIDGE'S "PRECISION MUSIC," ON MANITOBA STREET. I DO THIS A LOT. I SERVE AS ANDREW AND ROBERT'S "ROADIE," AND MUCH OF THIS TIME IS SPENT, IN SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCE, EITHER FREEZING IN THE CAR, OR BEING ROASTED ALIVE. I'M A GOOD AND RELIABLE DRIVER. I'M JUST NOT PARTICULARLY PATIENT. SO I ARM MYSELF WITH BOOKS AND NEWSPAPERS FOR A HOLDING-PATTERN THAT COULD LAST TWO HOURS IF THE SHOP IS BUSY. SOMETIMES I HAVE TO ABANDON MY GOOD PARKING SPOT, TO FIND A PLACE TO GO TO THE WASHROOM. I REMIND THE BOYS ABOUT THIS IN ADVANCE, BUT INEVITABLY THEY FORGET OLD POP IN THE CAR DOWN THE ROAD. I WOULD NEVER HAVE DONE THIS TO MY DAD, BECAUSE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A LONG WALK HOME WITH A HEAVY LOAD. HE DIDN'T HAVE PATIENCE EITHER. I GUESS I HAVE A WEE BIT MORE THAN HE DID, BECAUSE I'VE NEVER LEFT EITHER ONE BEHIND, AFTER TEN YEARS OF DOING THIS BUSINESS "WAITING" THING.

    ON THIS OCCASION, I PARKED IN FRONT OF THE OLD TOWN HALL, ON DOMINION STREET, RIGHT BESIDE THE ICONIC TWO STORY STUCCO BUILDING, WHICH, IN MY DAY, WAS KNOWN AS THE HERALD-GAZETTE OFFICE.....LOCATED AT NUMBER 27. AS WE WERE RUSHED THAT MORNING, COMING FROM GRAVENHURST, I FORGOT TO BRING ALONG MY READING MATERIAL. ON TOP OF THAT, IN TWO OF OUR FAVORITE SECOND HAND SHOPS, I COULDN'T FIND ANYTHING THERE EITHER, SO I HAD TO CONTENT MYSELF, DAYDREAMING ABOUT MY DAYS WORKING IN THAT BUILDING AS EDITOR OF THE NEWSPAPER.....JUST TO PASS THE TIME. I'M GOOD AT THIS, AND PUTTING MYSELF TO SLEEP. SEEING AS I DIDN'T WANT TO FREEZE TO DEATH, I KEPT MYSELF AWAKE BY REMEMBERING SOME OF THE MEMORABLE MOMENTS, IN AND AROUND THIS FAMILIAR BUILDING, ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MANITOBA STREET BLOCK. I HAVE SOME PRETTY CLEAR RECOLLECTIONS, BUT IT'S STILL CLOUDED SOMEWHAT, BY THE FACT, AS A MATTER OF SHEER NOSTALGIA, I FEEL AS IF I SHOULD STILL BE WORKING THERE, AND THE HERALD-GAZETTE SHOULD STILL BE PUBLISHING THEIR WEEKLY ISSUES.

     AT AROUND CHRISTMAS, WORKING IN THAT BUILDING WAS A LOT OF FUN. THE NEWS STAFF USED TO BRING IN A FLASK OR TWO OF RYE, OR RUM, DEPENDING ON THE MOOD, AND AFTER THE CHRISTMAS ISSUE HIT THE STREET, OUR COFFEE AND EGG NOG BECAME A LITTLE STRONGER, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. IT WASN'T CONDONED, AS A GOOD BUSINESS PRACTICE, BUT WE WEREN'T THE ONLY ONES SPIKING THE COFFEE EITHER. SOME OF THESE PEOPLE WERE THE ADVERTISERS WHO KEPT OUR ISSUES FREE-FLOWING INTO THOSE MAINSTREET NEWS BOXES. WE'D GET BOTTLES FROM FRIENDS AND BUSINESSES, THAT WE HAD DONE STORIES ON, OVER THE YEAR, AND SOMETIMES, FROM PEOPLE WHO HAD FACTORED INTO SOME OF OUR NEWS COPY. WE'D GET GIFT BASKETS AND FOOD TRAYS, AND A LOT OF PLEASANT VISITS FROM OLD CRONIES OF THE INDUSTRY, LIKE COLUMNIST HUGH CLAIRMONT AND PHOTOGRAPHER ALDYN CLARK; AND FORMER STAFFERS, WHO ALSO LIKED THE CHRISTMAS AURA OF THE OLD NEWSROOM....AND THE REAR OF THE BUILDING, WHERE WE HAD OUR PRINTING PRESSES, USED BY MUSKOKA GRAPHICS. IT WOULD BE A "HUMMING PLACE" IN THOSE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AS FOLKS CAME TO VISIT, AND STAFF TRIED, POINTLESSLY, TO TIDY UP LOOSE ENDS.....AND FINISH PRINTING JOBS BEFORE THE HOLIDAYS.

     I REMEMBER, ABOUT A WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS, A SALES REPRESENTATIVE FOR A NEW BARBECUE SAUCE, CAME INTO THE UPSTAIR'S NEWSROOM, DROPPED A PRESS RELEASE ON MY DESK, AND A CASE WITH TWENTY-FOUR BOTTLES INSIDE. GADS, CONSIDERING WE WERE STARVING ARTISTS, LIVING PAY CHECK TO BAR BILL, WE JUMPED ON TOP OF THAT BOX OF SAUCE LIKE WOLVES ON A CARCASS. BRANT SCOTT AND I WERE DRINKING THE STUFF, AND POURING IT ON ANY FOOD ITEM THAT SEEMED APPROPRIATE EXCEPT GLAZED DONUTS. I WAS LADLING IT ONTO POTATO CHIPS AND PRETZELS. IT WAS GOOD. WE EVEN TRIED IT WITH A LITTLE WHISKY BUT THAT WAS CRAZY. OR NOT. WE HAD SAUCE STAINS ALL OVER US, DURING THAT COUNTDOWN TO CHRISTMAS VACATION.

     IT WAS AN INTERESTING PLACE TO BE AT CHRISTMAS TIME, AND IT WAS VERY MUCH THE CASE THE GENERATIONS COLLIDED. THE OLD GANG AND THE NEW, INTERACTING OVER A GLASS OF EGGNOG OR MULLED CIDER WITH A LITTLE KICK. WE TALKED ABOUT CURRENT AFFAIRS AND OLD AFFAIRS, AND IT JUST SEEMED SO DARN HISTORIC. AUCTIONEER LES RUTLEDGE MIGHT DROP IN TO ARGUE WITH ACCOUNTING, AND TALK ANTIQUES WITH ME, AND I MIGHT WANDER DOWN TO THE BACK, AND SHOOT THE BREEZE WITH JIMMY WRIGHT AND HARRY RANGER WORKING THE PRESSES; OR MEETING UP WITH SOME OF OUR COUNTRY CORRESPONDENTS, WHO WOULD COME IN WITH THEIR NEW YEAR'S EDITION COPY......WHICH HONESTLY, I DIDN'T WANT TO EDIT WITH ALL THIS EGG NOG IN ME. VI HUGGARD WOULD GIVE ME A HARDY HANDSHAKE, AND SLAP ME ON THE BACK, TO LET ME KNOW I WAS GOING TO EDIT HER COLUMN MORE GENTLY IN THE NEW YEAR. WE WOULD GET VISITS FROM TOWN COUNCILLORS,  POSSIBLY MPP FRANK MILLER, BRINGING US CHRISTMAS GREETINGS IN PERSON. MAYBE GAR LEWIS , THE CAMERAMAN FROM CKCO TELEVISION, WHO WE WORKED SIDE BY SIDE THROUGH THE YEAR; EVEN SOME OF THE COMPETITION MIGHT WHIP IN, PRETENDING TO TAKE OUT AN ADVERTISEMENT,  OR ANSWER A JOB APPLICATION.....CRONIES LIKE MIKE GAVIN AND MIKE ARCHER, WHO STILL OWE ME FOR THE CHRISTMAS BAR TAB AT THE HOLIDAY HOUSE.

     SITTING IN THE CAR, FOR THAT HOUR PLUS, IN THE FREEZING COLD, GOT ME THINKING ABOUT WHAT THIS HISTORY AND NOSTALGIA THING IS ALL ABOUT. I MEAN, WHAT GOOD IS IT TO HAVE THESE STRONG FEELINGS, ABOUT HOW GOOD IT WAS IN THOSE DAYS....ESPECIALLY WHEN ALL THE THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE WHO PASS THIS ICONIC LOCATION, EVERY WEEK OF EVERY YEAR SINCE IT WAS CLOSED AS A NEWSPAPER OFFICE, DON'T HAVE A THIN SLIVER OF INTEREST IN WHAT I HAVE JUST WRITTEN ABOUT. PERSONAL MEMORIES. NOTHING WORTH NOTING....OR, WORTH REPEATING. YET I CAN'T BELIEVE,  OR ADMIT TO MYSELF, BLUNTLY AND HONESTLY, THAT THESE MEMORIES SHOULD REMAIN INTIMATE AND UNKNOWN EXCEPT TO THOSE WHO WERE DIRECTLY INVOLVED IN THE SCENARIOS; OF WHICH I FIND SO MUCH PLEASURE RE-TELLING.  THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, THERE WILL COME AN EMAIL, FROM SOMEONE WHO WAS PART OF THAT SCENE, OR FROM OTHERS I WRITE ABOUT, WHO GOT A KICK OUT OF SOME REKINDLING I'D BEEN HAVING FUN WITH. JUST WHEN I THINK IT'S TIME TO NEVER AGAIN, OFFER ANY REMINISCENCE ABOUT THOSE EARLIER DAYS....THAT FEW CARE ABOUT....SOME CHARACTER I KNEW BACK THEN, WILL SEND ME A PICTURE, SHOWING ME WEARING A RINK RAT SWEATER, WITH SOME GUY PUNCHING ME IN THE FACE, OR BEATING ME WITH MY OWN HELMET, AND I'LL SUDDENLY REBOOT, AND THINK QUIETLY TO MYSELF....BY GOLLY, WE SURE HAD A LOT OF FUN BACK THEN. I WISH I COULD SEE THAT OLD GANG OF OURS JUST ONE MORE TIME. DAMN THING IS, SO MANY OF THEM NOW ARE DECEASED. THAT'S WHY I TRY TO KEEP THEIR NAMES OUT THERE, BECAUSE DAMN IT, I THOUGHT THEY WERE IMPORTANT. I KNEW THEY WERE IMPORTANT. I MAKE IT MY TASK TO PROVE IT. THAT ORDINARY PEOPLE AT ORDINARY JOBS, LIVING ORDINARY, LIVES CAN BE, VERY EXCEPTIONAL AND EXTRAORDINARY.....BY THE SAME TOKEN. THERE'S A LOT MORE TO BEING ORDINARY THAN A ONE WORD DESCRIPTION.

         I ENJOYED MY YEARS AS EDITOR OF THE HERALD-GAZETTE, AND IT AFFORDED ME SO MANY GREAT OPPORTUNITIES, WELL BEYOND THE JOB DESCRIPTION. WHEN THE PUBLISHER LAUGHED AT ME ONCE, WHEN I TOLD HIM I DIDN'T TAKE THE JOB OF EDITOR, JUST FOR THE BIG BUCKS, IT REMAINED WITH ME, TO PROVE ONE DAY, THAT I WAS TRUTHFUL TO HIM;  DESPITE HIS DISAGREEMENT. I HAVE BEEN WRITING FOR MANY YEARS WITHOUT EVER SEEING ONE DIME OF PROFIT. I JUST ENJOY THE FREEDOM OF WRITING, OUT OF INTEREST AND RESPECT FOR TIMES PAST, AND PEOPLE KNOWN. I WOULD HAVE VOLUNTEERED TO BE EDITOR OF THE HERALD-GAZETTE, BECAUSE OF THE WAY IT ALLOWED ME TO SINK INTO THE DEEP VEINS OF MEDIA LIFE AND TIMES. I GOT THE OPPORTUNITY TO APPRENTICE AS AN HISTORIAN WITH MUSKOKA BEST KNOWN WRITER, ROBERT J. BOYER, AND I GOT TO WORK WITH TALENTED WRITERS, LIKE BILL KELLY, BRANT SCOTT, JUDITH BROCKLEHURST, AND COLLEAGUES LIKE LOU SPECHT AND BILL COLE; AND BE TUTORED BY PHOTOGRAPHERS LIKE TIM DUVERNET AND JOHN BLACK, WHO I CONSIDERED TWO OF THE FINEST IN THE BUSINESS.

     ALL TOLD, IT'S JUST AN OLD BUILDING FOR MOST WHO PASS THIS WAY, OR WHO STILL WORK WITHIN ITS STUCCO WALLS. BUT I LOVED THAT PLACE....AND I'M SURE MY GHOST STILL VISITS THOSE FAMILIAR PLACES THROUGHOUT THE BUILDING, LOOKING FOR KINDRED SPIRITS.

     MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU OLD HOMETOWN.