292 Elgin Street

How Creepy was my Clown?

 On Thursday, Febuary 8 1940. Loblaw's ran a full-page ad in the Ottawa Journal, announcing that their new Elgin Street location would open at 2:00 PM the following afternoon. This would bring the number of Loblaw's stores in the Capital area to seven, including the locations at 139 Rideau Street, 1273 Wellington, and the four stores on Bank (206, 317, 724 and 1115.) Compare the drawing in the ad to the storefront as it appears in the above photo today...

 Not spot on, but close enough. The windows have been replaced and the glazing truncated on the north end of the storefront to accommodate an entrance to the basement. The four sidewalk-level vents are now hidden by black tile, and unless it grew an extra pair along the way, the artist skimped on the number of sandstone accents in the late-deco-ish motif above the doorway.

 The ad copy and an accompanying article tell us that the store was purpose-built on land purchased by Loblaw's. It had a floor area of some 5,000 square feet and employed fifteen, all locals, all with previous experience at other Loblaw's stores. Dedicated to product freshness, hygiene and convenience, the store would pay special attention to its selection of meat and produce, in a setting "decorated in a cheerful shade of pastel brown[!] with silver trims that add an extra gleam of attractiveness to the white fixtures. The indirect lighting affords a soft and well diffused illumination that is as restful as it is adequate." Steam heating was also a thing.

 The Elgin Street Loblaws lost its lease in early 1972. #292 became home to a succession of restaurants including the Royal Palace (so a friend tells me), the Stage Door (I'm pretty sure) and the palm-court styled Penguin (where I worked, albeit briefly.) The basement, "292-B" became a venue in its own right. Of the Roxy (heyday the early 1980s), Tom Stewart writes...

"[Club operator] Paul Symes had the courage and foresight to book hardcore bands Black Flag and Saccharine Trust into the Roxy – a basement room at 292-B Elgin Street with a low ceiling and (thankfully) even lower lighting. For many in the national capital’s music scene, things would never be the same. Sure we’d seen punk bands before, but this was the real thing – California hardcore at it’s most ferocious. Henry Rollins sang half the set holding a hapless local in a headlock, his maniacal gaze daring the audience to approach the stage and risk the same fate."

 Other acts of note included Mark E. Smith and the Fall, the Lounge Lizards, Mission of Burma, the Violent Femmes and the Virgin Prunes — Of the last mentioned, I'll admit to walking out ten minutes into their show. The Stray Cats were playing in Hull the same night — less artsy whining and a lot more fun ;-)

 292-B is now the Bytown Tavern, the home of Yuk-Yuk's comedy club, just downstairs from Hooley's Pub... currently sporting a seasonal "creepy clown" doorway treatment. Nice teeth!

*     *     *

 It comes to my belated attention that the story of 292 Elgin Street was well researched and delightfully written up earlier this year by Ottawa's respected young historian, Chris Ryan. I'm relieved to see that nothing I've written here is contradicted by his findings.

121 MacDonald, the "Slanty Shanty"

 I took this photo of 121 MacDonald at the corner of Frank, in April of 2006. By summer of the following year it had been replaced by a lower, broader home in the modern style.

 This house appears in Might Directories at least as far back as 1901, when it was listed (though not numbered) as the home of one John Eldridge. Immediately to its south lay an extensive lumber yard.

 The two-and-a-half storey wooden structure was set atop a stone foundation which, over the decades, sank unevenly into soil. Underlying Leda Clay, a relic of the Champlain seabed, was the likely culprit. The house would have been unlivable by the time it was demolished.

 Here's a view of the new 121 MacDonald...

The Kelso Apartments

 The City Directories make it pretty clear that the Kelso — 51-53 MacLaren at MacDonald in the Golden Triangle — was built in or just before 1913. The 1912 Might Directory lists those two addresses as belonging to an occupied semi-detached. In 1913 they were "vacant." The next year they were explicitly associated with the "Kelso Apts" and boasting six renters. That number would soon swell to fourteen, including a caretaker (the apartments are listed as 1-7, 7a, 8-12, and 14.) The Kelso boasts a small but tasteful side-entrance numbered 17 MacDonald Street.

 Here is a detail from Goad (May 1912, sheet 51) showing the original double at 51-53 just before it was demolished. I've highlighted it in red (east is on top.)

 Notice the odd skew on the north (left) side of the lot. This was occasioned by the wedged shape of block 281 and is preserved in the angle of the Kelso's rear wall, which evidently sits right on the property line.

 For such an imposing building, the Kelso's first rental ads were brief and low-key. Here is an Ottawa Journal placement for December 1, 1913...

 

 Worth noting: the address has been simplified to #53, and apartments vary in size by three rooms. "Phone Janitor" seems an unpromising touch, but with a big, empty building to watch over, said custodian may not have had much to do with his days but answer calls. Rents and phone numbers are typical of the time.

"You again!"

 The Kelso signaled a move away from the gracile, asymmetric whimsies of the late 1800s and toward the more modernly massed walk-ups that would evolve between 1910 and 1950. Still it clings to its Victorian red brickwork and its stone foundation, the last gasps of Empire.

 I can find little in the way of spectacular goings-on at the Kelso over the decades, only the account of a furnace blast on November 7, 1946. Perhaps it was the first really chilly night of the year? Someone (that janitor!) over-stoked the coal furnace, and shortly after 10:00 PM a build-up of coal gas exploded, blowing the top off the furnace and knocking down various pipes and conduits. There was no fire and no-one was hurt.

 Oh... speaking of evolving apartment buildings, if you look back up at my photo, you can see "Ten the Driveway" (1969) at the east end of Cooper Street, looming in the background — the typical high-rise fare for Ottawa in the late 1960s and into the '70s, when tall was all!

77 MacLaren Street

 Flat-roofed but with a bold, gambreled front dormer, 77 MacLaren appears to date from between 1884 and '88. The house saw mention in the Ottawa Journal as early as 1898. In 1899, the owner advertised for a "general" servant (no washing or ironing.) The 1901 City Directory lists the address as home to Alex G. McCormick (a grain merchant.)

 Dr. John Cadenhead Glashan
(b. Aberdeenshire, Scotland in 1844), mathematician, writer, teacher and eventually school inspector, had moved into #77 by May of 1931 but died a year later of appendicitis/peritonitis at the age of 88. Glashan Public School on Arlington Avenue bears his name. His widow, the much-loved Anne, celebrated her 98th birthday in the house on December 8 1937. Sadly I can't find a proper obituary for her.

 During WWII the address devolved into a rooming/flop house known as "Charles Manor" and later, "MacLaren Lodge." Things really went downhill after the war. In April of 1954, the house was raided as a brothel. Arrests included two prostitutes and two "found-ins."

 By 1960, 77 MacLaren had been tidied up and converted to office use (the Community Planning Association of Canada) — it presently hosts a small skulk of psychologists.

On a Ridge

L-R 685 & 683 Echo Drive, rear of houses facing on to Riverdale, July 2016

 One in the Modern style, and the other less so — these two houses sit on a ridge of antique fluvial sand and silt at the very southern tip of Old Ottawa East, just north of the Oakland Heights section of Old Ottawa South.

 I'm having trouble dating #685 (late '20s?), but the original #683 was described as "new" in August of 1934.

August 25 1934, The Ottawa Journal

 "Designed by [an] architect" may sound like padding, but compared to its staid and foursquare neighbour, 683 was indeed a design experiment, grafting an unconventionally massed house onto a small and acutely sloped lot. If you're curious, you can see both 683 and (former) 685 in this Street View from 2009.

 The present 683, rest assured, was also designed by an architect. The award-winning Christopher Simmonds is responsible for some striking single and multi-unit dwellings in the Ottawa area. One of his better-known designs is "The Eddy Condominiums" in Hintonburg.

 Compare my photo to this Street View showing the two original houses as seen from Riverdale, in simpler times.

The Ways of His People

image, http://www.pesticon.ca/

...The dancing bear yawns grandly, maneuvering on the ball until he is flat on his belly. Hail, great spirit, he says. Our meeting is fortunate, for John Bennington has many questions to ask regarding the ways of his people. 

“Then he shall ask them,” the ancestral spirit says, “and be answered.”

But the scout says nothing. Hearing the spirit speak the names of parents he has never known has caught him off guard. For a moment, there is only the sound of recorded moaning and the leaky-tire hiss of the smoke machine. The ancestral spirit clears its throat. The bear is irritated. The dreaming Pekinese rolls over on its back and bicycles the air with its paws.

For example, the bear interjects, John Bennington may wish to learn the wisdom of the Homeowners Association. Tell him how a strict observance of yard-waste disposal guidelines helps to maintain harmony with nature.

“And property values,” the ancestral spirit says.

That, too, the bear says.

“No,” the scout says, finally finding his voice. “Tell me why my people left me at the Gavin’s Point boardwalk to guess the weights of drug addicts.”

The ancestral spirit looks momentarily cowed. It pretends to be distracted by an e-mail on its cell phone. “Are you sure you would not rather ask another question?” the spirit asks. “About your place in this world, perhaps? Have you no wish to access the volumes of cultural insight bequeathed to you by your people?”

Tell him the parable of the independent subcontractor and the hornets’ nest, the bear says.

“Yes,” the spirit says. “That’s a good one.”

“No,” the scout repeats. “Why was I abandoned?” The Pekinese suddenly stirs. This exchange is unexpected, and worth being awake for.

It is not your people’s way to ask such direct questions of their ancestors, John Bennington, the bear says. It makes them uncomfortable.

“I do not know our ways,” the scout says.

“That is why I am here,” the ancestral spirit says.

“Why do they flee?” the scout asks. “Are they in danger?”

“Ours is a story of constant discomfort, of annoyance that knows no end,” the spirit proclaims in a voice meant to carry over the crackle of back-yard terra-cotta fire pits and the chewing of Caprese-salad skewers. “Dilapidation makes us uneasy,” the spirit explains, “and passé architecture offends us. We search for new exclusive and ergonomically designed playgrounds as one might look for a sun that has already set, a moon that is always new, for no place is ever truly ours and ours alone, to lounge in as we please in safety and in peace.”

“What the hell does that mean?” the scout wants to know. But he knows.

 From "The King's Teacup at Rest" by Michael Andreasen, as featured in The New Yorker.

F.X. sells the Rectory

341 Riverdale, Old Ottawa South, adapted from Google Street View, April 2015

 Prolonging our glance at commodious houses (and the career arc of F.X. Laderoute) consider this placement from the August 1, 1950 Ottawa Journal...

"F.X. LADEROUTE
OTTAWA SOUTH, 341 Riverdale, brick and stucco, living room, fuel alcoved fireplace, dining room, kitchen, three bedrooms second floor, two bedrooms third floor, two complete bathrooms. Possession September. Price $10,000. 292 Laurier Ave. W. 2-1342"

 This address occupies the NE corner of Riverdale and Brighton Avenues. I've relied on Street View for a portrait because the house can't be seen from the street at this time of year, thanks in part to a gangling Manitoba Maple sprawled across the front of the lot.

341 Riverdale, July 2016

 The house seems to be a variation on the American Foursquare plan, with more modest eaves, and a simple porch (rebuilt wood, original brick painted over) standing in for a full verandah. Twinned front and back shed dormers and a half-hipped roof help turn the attic into something roomy enough to call a third floor, while faded turquoise siding probably hides some sad-looking stucco. In better days the small yard was planted with birch and maple — a lilac bush stood by the front path.

 #341 isn't listed in Might 1923 but it does appear (barely) as a smudge on the 1928 aerial photos, when a large swath of (now "Old") Ottawa South was still pasture and hay-field. This would bracket the construction date to the mid-1920s.

 Between 1931 and 1945, the house served as the rectory for St. Margaret Mary Catholic Parish in Ottawa South. According to the Parish website...

"In July of 1931 St Margaret Mary’s school was built at the cost of $30,000, and a house at 341 Riverdale was purchased as the first rectory at a cost of $6,500. It was sold in 1945 and the present rectory immediately next to the church was purchased for $8,000."

 Four years after it was acquired, the rectory was the target of a break-in and robbery. From the Ottawa Evening Journal, July 19 1935...

 Apparently, Father Hogan was kicked and punched when he had the audacity to laugh at a comment made by one of the robbers. The latter seem to have been a crew specifically targeting churches and rectories. I can find no evidence of their capture.

 While the parish website indicates that the house was sold in 1945, the Might directories show that its first non-clerical occupants were renters. This makes me wonder if the Church still owned the house as of 1950, when Laderoute placed his ad. #341 did sell, to William Farrah and his wife Affifi.

 Francis-Xavier Laderoute — self-styled "F.X." and referred to simply as "X" by his colleagues — was an Arnprior native. He attended school there and later studied at Ottawa's Willis Business College. In 1898, he married Lola Louise Corbett. F.X. was an important developer of old Overbrook, and Lola Street enshrines the memory of his wife in that east end community.

 We find early evidence of his business doings in March of 1905, when a small ad appears in the Journal, offering "real estate, insurance and loans" services from an office at 174 Bank street. Two years later, in his early 30s, he reappears as an agent for Coleman Silver Mines. I don't know how well the Coleman initiative ("180 acres of valuable mining land") fared, but many such schemes ended in grief. By the end of the decade, he was clearly focused on Ottawa's booming (and more reliable) real estate market.

Francis-Xavier Laderoute

 In the years that followed, F.X. would rise to a position of respect and influence in the local real estate community. According to his obituary, he "...was said to know land values like nobody else... [and] was instrumental in building a number of Ottawa's stately homes and subdivided some of Ottawa's suburbs that are now in the heart of the city."

 F.X. was a devout Catholic (and a K. of C. fourth degree), an avid golfer, gardener and stamp collector. He would have been roughly 76 years old when he oversaw the sale of 341 Riverdale. He died on December 15, 1959 at the age of 85.

 #341 is presently unoccupied, fenced off and in a state of neglect.

Update:
 I cycled past #341 on a sunny day in the fall of 2016. It had been largely knocked down — a demolition crew was feeding great sections of wall and floor directly into the largest (and loudest) wood chipper I've ever seen.

Our House, 1909

The Ottawa Evening Journal, Saturday Sept. 11 1909

 This pastiche of a Queen Anne Revival house was published as a full-page domicile-themed advertising feature on on page 10 of the September 11 1909 Ottawa Evening Journal. It looks like the sort of thing one can still find in Sandy Hill and the Golden Triangle, perhaps more so.

 I came across this gem while hunting for information about F.X. Laderoute, hence the highlight on his name. Laderoute was a respected member of Ottawa's real estate community and was instrumental in the early development of Overbrook. He also kept pigeons and grew prize-winning peonies.

 Festooning the awnings and dormers, the gables and gambrels, the pediment, the porch, and nearly every window are twenty ads for products and services related to the building, buying, cleaning, heating, and painting of houses — and then the cooking of dinner. I assembled this view from fourteen oversized screenshots and tarted up the sharpness and levels somewhat. View full-size to see who was flogging their wares in 1909.

 And now, with a house that size, shouldn't those two head indoors and make some more babies?

the Warrington

the Warrington Apartments, 415 Elgin Street, July 2016

 The Warrington first appears on the 1912 revision of the Goad fire insurance map, sitting alone on the east side of Elgin between McLeod and Park Avenue. Upon completion, it faced the newly built Victoria Memorial Museum Building, now home to our Museum of Nature. Ads and announcements in the Ottawa Journal suggest that the Warrington was welcoming tenants as early as the fall of 1910. The Might directory confirms full occupancy by 1913 — nine households (eight plus a janitor?)

a detail from Goad (revised 1912) sheet #70

 I was unable to find out anything saucy or spectacular about this building. People moved in, they lost things, hired maids, got parking tickets, fled from a small fire in February of 1951 and died of unrelated causes. One story from the spring of 1917 does remind us of the state of telephony at that time — the little guy versus the telecoms, eh?

 the Ottawa Journal, April 16 1917, pg. 12

 Bell argued that a common-use phone in the hallway was in a public space and that precedents for such payphone placements had already been set in buildings in other cities. These days, a free telephone in an apartment corridor would seem odd indeed — and would surely get ripped off the wall in less than a week.

the Franconna

322 Frank Street (originally 74 Frank), July 2016

 The Franconna (with a total of three n's) Apartments, previously the Belgrave Terrace Apartments, was built in 1903 as a home for lumberman Robert Hurdman on the occasion of his retirement. He died a year later. Chris Ryan has done a terrific job of researching the history of the building and its subsequent owners. He includes the story of the Franconna's bizarre, mismatched rear annex, part of which was shaved off, creating one of the oddest looking buildings on Gladstone. That's the annex in red brick to the right of the image. Read Chris's article, "A (Bel)grave Situation" here.

Genteel with a touch of shabby — view full-size to see where roof, dormer-gable and turret-bay have been hacked into to accommodate skylights and air conditioners.