1917 - Grafton Fire

“ ‘Fire is a good servant but a poor master,’ is an old saying that proved to have a lot of truth in it last night, when, as master, it destroyed the stores and contents of Grafton and Company, James Street North”

                                                              Hamilton Times. February 13, 1917

          It was a quarter to nine on a bitterly cold evening in downtown Hamilton when flames were spotted rising from the roof of Grafton and Co., one of the city’s most popular stores.

          At 8:51 p.m., Fire Chief Arthur Ten Eyck received hurried telephone call reporting the fire. Less than a minute later, the chief had covered the two blocks from the central fire station to the store on the east side of James street, just north of King street.

          Immediately recognizing the severity of the blaze, Chief Ten Eyck issued a general alarm. Within minutes, the scene of the fire was surrounded by apparatus from every station in the city. Dozens of policemen were called to control the huge crowd of onlookers which had turned out to witness what would prove to be one of the most spectacular in the city’s history.

          The Spectator described the fire as follows :

          “Attracted by the report that the entire heart of the city was ablaze, crowds gathered from every section of the city. The blazing building, flaming high like a pine torch, struck fear into all those who owned property near the main business corner, and among the crowd were many who had more than a curious interest in the fire.”

          Indeed, with the huge banks of flames issuing from the Grafton building, and with sparks shooting high into the air and being blown about by a strong southwest wind, there was a real danger that the whole central part of downtown Hamilton could be lost.

          As noted in the next day’s edition of the Hamilton Herald, the gallant and heroic work of Hamilton’s “fire ladies” saved the day:

          “The members of Hamilton’s fire fighting force demonstrated to the thousand’s of citizens who flocked to the scene of the blaze the caliber of their bravery and zeal when duty calls them to save the city from destruction.

          “Owing to the low temperature, the rubber coats, hats and boots became covered with ice within a surprisingly short space of time.The gloves on their hands also became frozen, causing them severe discomfort, and rendering the carrying out of their work the more difficult. Duty called them to go where it seemed that no human being could survive.

          “At one time, Chief Ten Eyck was noticed standing on the roof of the Pratt building within a few yards of the blazing building, engaged in directing the operations of the five lines of hose which were pouring great volumes of water from James street.”

          At the height of the blaze, a team of horses attached to a hose wagon on King William street became frightened by the fire and dashed towards James street, heading directly towards the massive crowd of onlookers, which had been estimated at least 4,000 people. Police Constable Alex McMillan, showing great presence of mind and fleetness of foot, chased the horses and made a flying tackle to grab the bridles and bring the horses under control before anyone was seriously hurt.

          By 2 a.m., the Grafton fire was under control, although the building was destroyed, with only the brick front wall, covered in ice, left standing.

          The Spectator reporter who stayed at the scene all night noticed Chief Ten Eyck “surveying the scene, chewing at an unlit cigar. Icicle hung from his hat, and his face was streaked with grime. Far into the night, the firemen kept to their post. They seemed like snowmen, their entire persons masses of ice. Piles of ice on their hats made them look like clowns at a masquerade party.”

          The next morning, the picturesque, ice-clad ruins of the Grafton building attracted crowds of sightseers. A policeman left on duty to guard the scene remarked that he had not “that there were so many Kodaks and cameras in the world.”

          Even after a formal fire marshal’s inquiry, the cause of the Grafton’s fire was never discovered. At the inquiry, members of the Hamilton Fire Department came in for great praise, although Chief Ten Eyck did testify that his men could have done a better job if the aerial ladder truck he had earlier requested had not been denied by city politicians.

1913 - Hill Climbing Contests

“Speeding between thousands of thrilled citizens who lined both sides of the serpentine course, dozens of motorcar and motorcycle owners raced against time on Saturday morning in an endeavor to reach the summit of the Strongman mountain road in the shortest possible time”¹

¹ “Thrilling Incidents in the Hill Climbing Contest : Wolseley Car, Owned by Toronto Enthusiast, Won Spectator Trophy, Pope-Hartford Roadster Made Best Time”

                                           Hamilton Spectator.  May 26, 1913

          It was the first contest of its kind, not only in the city of Hamilton, but in all of Canada.

          Using Hamilton’s famous mountain, an access road up the face of it and a city street leading to the access, a hill climbing contest, involving both automobiles and motorcycles, took place on the Saturday of the May holiday weekend in 1913.

          Organized and conducted under the auspices of the Hamilton Automobile Club and the Hamilton Motorcycle Club, with a first prize trophy provided by the Hamilton Spectator daily newspaper, the event, as noted in that newspaper “proved the Mecca which drew thousands of spectators from the city and surrounding countryside, and motor enthusiasts from Montreal, Toronto and other points.”¹

          The course, 1.17 miles in length, began at what when then Hamilton’s Haymarket, on the east side of John Street South, just south of the Toronto, Hamilton and Buffalo Railway track.  Following John street south to the base of the escarpment, the course took a sharp turn to the left at Arkledun avenue, up towards the base of Strongman’s road where a sharp right turn was located at the intersection with the Jolley Cut. The course then followed the extremely steep Strongman’s road to the top of the escarpment.

          It was a particularly challenging course for both the drivers and their vehicles:

          “The course brought out the driving ability of the various contestants and the endurance of each machine.”¹

                The local municipal officials with the City of Hamilton had co-operated very well with the contest organizers. The roadways had been officially closed to public traffic by means of temporary legislation. Also the roads were in excellent shape:

          “The works department ided by repairing portions of the road and widening the turn at the Strongman road intersection, the Spectator paying part of the cost of the latter work.”¹

                By the time that the event was scheduled to begin, the whole length of the course, including the steepest sections, were lined with people, all enthusiastically taking in the thrilling event:

          “There is always a strong fascination in witnessing expert motorists driving their machines against time – in watching the cool daring which demands a nicety of judgment  second only to recklessness.

          “The people saw all that, and more, too, saw big cars, loaded with passengers, take turns with only a hair’s breadth between dangers, saw motorcycles with side cars coursing up John street at thrilling speed to make the turns at startling angles and witnessed the wild scrambles of nervous spectators who dodged behind posts as the careening machines rushed towards them at top speed.”¹

                The Spectator providing the account of the contest noted that some viewing locations for the thousands of race enthusiasts were better than other of the possible locations :

          “At the corner of John and Arkledun avenue, hundreds stood. That was probably the best vantage point, for they were an excellent perspective view of the cars and motorcycles as they raced up the street.

          “Another favorite spot was where the Strongman mountain road starts – where the old toll gate used to be. The mountainside and brow afforded a natural grandstand and were lined with people who were in position of being able to secure an excellent view of a long section of the road without running the risk of being maimed in case one of the machines got beyond control when making a turn.”¹

                At each turn, a number of people from the St. John Ambulance brigade, accompanied by doctors, were located to render first aid in case of an accident, but they were thankfully not needed for that purpose as the event without any incident of that nature.

          A detachment of Boy Scouts were organized as patrols to look out for any medical emergencies that might take place among the spectators

          The event was not a race as such. The vehicles did not all engage with each other in real time, but instead it was a race against the clock. The winner being that vehicle crossing the finish line on the mountain in the best recorded time.

          Each entrant began with a standing start at the Haymarket, and a “flying finish” at the end of the course:

          “A special telephone line was strung from the starter’s station on the Haymarket to the summit. When one contestant reached the summit, and the time of his arrival telephoned to the starter, another one was given the signal to proceed, and in that way the entire contest was run off in two and a half hours, with practically no delay.”

                The usual time between the start of each vehicle averaged about three minutes.

          There were three separate events : one for motorcycles with sidecar and passenger, another for motorcycle and driver only and the third for automobiles.

          The first event had many thrills for the spectators:

          “Motorcycles are celebrated for their speed, and as the first one appeared burning the wind on the John street ascent, with the sidecar passenger leaning far out to facilitate the making of the turn, dozens of people stationed on Arkledun avenue ducked for shelter, fearing that the driver would be unable to round the corner owing to his great speed.”¹

 When opposite St. Joseph’s Hospital, one motorcycle had to drop out crestfallen as the drive chain on his machine broke. Another spun out of control running off the course into an embankment at the Hair Pin turn located at the base of Strongman Road. The driver and sidecar passenger were jolted, but not thrown out their machines.

The second event featured powerful motorcycles, most with twin seven horsepower engines:

“At the second turn one of the boys indulged in an unconsciously spectacular stunt when he gyrated twice seeking to make the turn.”¹

The two complete revolutions didn’t faze the driver. He ended up facing the right way on the course, and just continued ahead as if nothing happened.

There was an amusing occurrence in this race:

“There was a laughable incident on the Strongman grade, ‘Red’ Dixon mounted on an Excelsior, had made good time and had navigated the difficult curve at fair speed. He was near the summit when his gasoline gave out, and he was forced to return.

“He was headed down the course, just coasting when Police Sergeant Bettles undertook to stop him, informing him that he could not go down that way.

“ ‘ I have no gas. I can’t go up,’ retorted the driver. With the emphasis on the ‘up’ as he continued on his way amid general laughter from the spectators.”¹

The final event involved powerful automobiles, most with 35 horsepower engines.

The winner was a Pope-Hartford roadster with a 45 horsepower engine. Driven by Oscar Coolican, the roadster completed the 1.17 mile uphill course in 2 minutes, 38.40 seconds.

However there was some complaint about Coolican’s win, “on the ground that it was not a regular five-passenger touring model, and was a roadster with two rumble seats, and consequently had a lighter body than the other entries.”¹

Herbert McPhie, secretary of the Hamilton Automobile Club, quickly called a meeting of all those in charge of the hill-climbing contest. It was decided to award a special prize to Coolican, and declare that A. Sharp of Toronto, driving a Wolseley, with his time would be awarded first prize, his time being 2 minutes, 42 seconds.

Most of the entrants in the contests were drivers from out of the city, but there were six Hamiltonians entered: William Vallance Jr. in a Hudson, Chester Walters in a McLaughlin, James Moodie also in a McLaughlin,  H. Lampson in a Overland and Z, M, Armstrong in a Mitchell.

1912 - Locke Street South

By June 1912, business owners and residents along or in the near vicinity of Hamilton’s Locke street south had had enough.

        Between Herkimer and Main streets, Locke street south had become a reasonably successful area comprising many small businesses, several churches and nearby schools and growing residential areas. The Hamilton Street Railway ran a busy street car line along the street.

        But the City of Hamilton’s politicians and administrators had not paid much attention to how much Locke Street had advanced in recent years.

        A prime example of that change was the Twentieth Century Club building on the west side of Locke Street, between Blanchard and Hill street.

Built just seven years previously, in 1905, the Twentieth Century Club’s building had retail space available on the first floor, while the second floor, with its large windows, was mainly an open area, suitable for large meetings of the club itself or by any other organization which might want to rent it.

It was this very building itself that was used for a meeting on June 6, 1912 at which it was decided to address the city’s neglect of Locke street by an organization to be call the South-West Hamilton Improvement Society.

It was argued at the meeting that it was time for citizens in the Locke street area, whether business owners or residents, to organize and pressure the local municipal officials to act. As reported in the Hamilton Spectator, the meeting included “wholesale complaints of neglect by the city.”

It was stated that Locke Street South was in “terrible shape.” Speakers noted that the street car tracks was so “rickety that, when the cars are traveled fast, passengers are jolted around until they get a feeling that one seldom experiences except on a boat in a choppy sea.”

The organization was duly put in place, with plans to meet again to elect officers, agree upon a charter and devise a plan of action to ensure that Locke Street South would no longer be so shamefully neglected.

Any politician wishing to run for office from the ward would be sure to hear from the improvement society again and again until something was done to improve conditions on Locke street.

1912 - Fly-Swatting

“When the clock strikes six tonight, the Spectator’s fly-exterminating contest will have become a thing of the past, and the fifty-five bright, hustling little girls and boys, who have taken hold and made it a success, will have more than one reason for personal congratulation. They have not only won a prize, but they have done something in the interests of humanity: they have saved the lives of many babies and perhaps prevented numbers of older people from falling victims to that dread disease, typhoid.”

          ¹“On the Last Lap : Fly Swatters Will Conclude Their Efforts Tonight in the Spectator Contest”

          Hamilton Spectator.     July 6, 1912.

          It was a mix of shameless promotion for the Spectator to increase sales and a sincere scheme to further the state of public health in the city.

          It was felt that flies were the cause of the spread of infectious diseases and that perhaps a contest to encourage the reduction of the fly population in the city would have a major benefit for the well-being of city dwellers in during the heat of the summer in 1912.

          Encouraged by the Hamilton Director of Health, Dr. Roberts, the management of the Hamilton conceived, financed and extensively promoted a Fly-Swatting Contest. Several financial prizes were put in place, topped by the first place prize of $50 to the person who would deliver the highest number of swatting fly carcasses for enumeration the board of health office at Hamilton City Hall

          Beginning on June 15, 1912, and continuing for the following two weeks, flies were being swatted throughout Hamilton in large numbers, the contest participants being mainly boys and girls.

          As the contest was reaching its final stages, the Spectator complimented both the contest participants:

          “The boys and girls have done no small part in cleaning Hamilton of one its worst pests, and thus given the ambitious city the honor of being the first in Canada to conduct a campaign of this kind.

          “Hamilton has now several million less flies than it would have had if this contest had not been inaugurated. Neither can the benefit of the campaign be measured by the number of flies brought to the city hall during the contest. Throughout the entire city, many people who have made no effort to enter the contest have developed the swatting habit, and the benefits from this would be hard to estimate.”¹

                As the contest finale was approaching quickly, the number of dead flies brought to city hall on Friday July 5, 1912 was very high. The daily total was 154,900 dead flies, with Aubrey Leckie breaking all individual daily records by delivering 38,900 flies.

          The Spectator had prepared specific plans for the finale of the contest scheduled for Saturday, July 6:

          “In order to accommodate the closing rush, the board of health office will be open to receive flies from 4 to 6 p.m., and EVERY CONTESTANT IS REQUESTED TO BE ON HAND WHETHER HE OR SHE HAS ANY FLIES OR NOT. The result will be announced in Monday’s paper, when the individual number of each contestant will be given, and the winners’ names published in their order of standing.”¹

                It was a busy on James street north in vicinity of the Hamilton City Hall beginning around 6 p.m. as the fly-swatting contest came to an end:

          “The closing scenes were interesting. The big crowd of boys and girls gathered around the building, each holding a pail or bag of flies, attracted the attention of many older ones, and long before the last delivery had been made, several hundred people had gathered around the hall and watched the final incidents of the big contest with much interest.

          “For nearly two hours there was a steady stream of children going in and out of the health office, and Inspector McDonald heaved a big sigh of relief when he signed the last receipt just as the clock struck six.

          “At the close of the contest, the contestants were grouped at the city and a photo taken by A. M. Cunningham.”²

² “It’s Now Up to You : Spectator’s Fly Swatter Caught a Million and a Half, and Have Shown the People What Can Be Done to Wipe out the Pest” Hamilton Spectator. July 8, 1912

                The spectator was not shy in complimenting itself as regards the success of the contest:

          “One of the features is the fact that many of the boys have been gathering their flies at some of the city manufacturing plants, and now that these places are clear of flies, there is much rejoicing on the part of the owners, many of whom have expressed their thanks in no uncertain manner to the Spectator for having inaugurated the contest.”¹

                It was a very tight race for first place. Aubrey Leckie who had gained the record for most dead flies brought in during a single day ended up with a total of 263,100 dead flies, just a trifle over 16,000 less than Fred J. Humphreys who captured the $50 first place prize with a total of 279,850.

          The total number of dead flies brought to the city hall was 1,470, 188.
          The Spectator published a full editorial on the effort until the headline "A Great Campaign" :
         "The Spectator's anti-fly crusade, insofar as it consisted in an effort to incite young people to destroy the insect and bring the remains in measured quantities, came to an end on Saturday last. But the movement which it has set going on the part of the whole people will continue, and the fly will now be regarded as an enemy to be combated in every possible way, not merely as a nuisance, but as a communicator of disease. The principal object of the agitation was to educate the public regarding a pervasive, but not commonly realized peril, and that object has been achieved. The reduction in the number of flies usually afflicting Hamilton at this season, brought about by the young people's contest, must be enormous, as insects trapped and destroyed early in the season would, if they had lived, by this time have multiplied into millions: but that is only a small part of the benefit accruing from the campaign. Hence forth in every household there will be an intelligent conception of the agency of the fly in the spread of typhoid and other scourges, and a corresponding degree of vigilance will be exercised in its exclusion or extermination.
          "To the Spectator belongs the honor, such as it may be, of the introduction of the anti-fly movement through newspaper agitation in Canada. Its example has been followed by other prominent Canadian daily papers, in time for excellent work to be done in their respective localities this season. The information which the Spectator has made public concerning the nature and the habits of the fly, freely illustrated, has become familiar in other parts of the Dominion, and doubtless it will continue to be disseminated till in not a single community can it said, 'My people perish for want of knowledge.'
          "To the cheerful and even enthusiastic co-operation of Dr. Roberts much is due for the success of the young people's contest. The host of boys and girls who brought him their prey found in him an indefatigable counselor and friend."

          In wrapping up its coverage of the Fly-Swatting Contest, the Spectator complimented the participants and they give encouragement to continue their efforts to make Hamilton a healthier city:

          “It has meant a lot of hard work for the boys and girls, and all deserve the commendation of every citizen for having assisted in such a useful work.

          “Now that the contests has closed, don’t neglect to swat a fly – keep right on swatting, and whenever you see a fly, even though it be on a bald head – swat it.”²