The Ill-Fated Ex of 1974
August 26, 2012
When Exhibition time comes around each year, those of us who grew up in or near the city will no doubt reflect on the numerous childhood memories of our visits to the fair each summer. So what if the arrival of the Exhibition meant that going back to school wasn’t far off? At least we’d have some book covers to wrap around the speller and some pencils to draw cars and airplanes in the margins. And with any luck maybe we’d be handed a wooden ruler with inches marked on it and a narrow steel edge to make straight lines in our five-cent Hilroy scribblers (Hilroy was actually Roy Hill, a Torontonian who started the company even before I was a kid). For sure all that free stuff would certainly help get us through the next ten months.
While I have fond memories of going to the Ex on the old Bathurst streetcar with my brother, mother, and aunt Peggy (dad and Uncle Ken weren’t, I’m sorry to say, big fans of the fair … something about having to work for a living), my most vivid memories are reserved for those five years I was one of the devoted group of people that puts together the annual fair. In spite of my education in the field of chemistry, the fair’s then general manager Dave Garrick was pretty sure that my love of Toronto history would be helpful in getting things ready for the CNE’s Centennial Exhibition in 1978.
When I joined the staff several months before the start of the 1974 CNE I was given a few responsibilities to get my feet wet. After what happened that first year I began to wonder whether Dave was having second thoughts about what I had brought with me from my time with the Ontario Water Resources Commission (now the Ministry of the Environment).
My memories of the 1974 edition of the CNE are these: first, there was no TTC service whatsoever during the fair’s run of twenty days. It would become the longest strike in TTC history. Through the media the general manager suggested people wanting to go to the Ex anyway should cross their arms in the shape of an “X” hoping that drivers headed that way would give them a lift. It worked. Attendance was only 13 percent off 1973 figures.
Then, one afternoon I was asked to retrieve motorcycle daredevil Evel Knievel’s wife from the Royal York Hotel where they were staying awaiting the daredevil’s performance. He was to attempt to jump thirteen large Mack trucks lined up side by side in front of the old Grandstand.
Needless to say, with the transit strike in full force the drive along Front Street to the hotel and back was, shall I say, a challenge, a challenge that soon got the better of me when at the Front and Spadina intersection my car’s radiator let go and I was forced to retreat to the Esso station that used to be on the northeast corner. Suddenly, the aforementioned Mrs. Knievel exited the car and when last seen was walking north on Spadina headed for I know not where. When I phoned the office and tried to explain the situation to her husband his words back to me were few and totally unprintable in this family newspaper. Suffice it to say that my good wishes for a successful jump over those thirteen trucks were badly compromised.
And to top it off, when the fair was about to enter its second week, one of the CNE’s largest exhibit buildings was destroyed by a fire that broke out late in the evening of August 23. Built in 1909 directly south of the Dufferin gate, it served for many years as the CNE’s Transportation Building, where cars, trucks, and airplanes were on display before an amazed public. Later it was the Dance Pavilion (featuring Guy Lombardo and Rudy Vallée and the like) and eventually home to the most modern adding machines, typewriters, and other fascinating business products. I can hear the guy now: “Go ahead kids, give them a try, just don’t break them or your dad’ll have to pay the repair bill.”
For 1974 it served as home to our feature country, Spain. For a time, anyway. The old building was full of artifacts, souvenir items, photos, murals, costumes, musical scores, and the like, all of which were lost in the conflagration.
What baggage had I brought to the Ex? Only time would tell. Suffice it to say they kept me around for another five years, then it was off to Canada’s Wonderland.
This photo was taken soon after the CNE’s new Ontario Government Building (left of view, now the Liberty Grand) opened to the crowds attending the 1926 Exhibition. In the background is one of the towers of the 1912 British Governments Building (later Arts, Crafts and Hobbies, now Medieval Times). The large structure to the right of the photo was completed in 1909. During my first year on staff at the CNE it was the site of the Spanish Pavilion. But not for long. A little over a week into the fair the old building was destroyed by fire.
CNE’s Back to the Future
September 2, 2012
During its earliest years, what we now know as the Canadian National Exhibition (or simply the CNE or, even easier, the Ex) was the place to see the latest inventions. It didn’t matter whether those new creations were for the farm (after all, the Ex had its genesis in the early 1800s as an agricultural fair), for industry (from 1879 until 1912 it was known as the Toronto Industrial Exhibition), or for the Canadian public, the CNE was looked upon as the showplace of the nation.
Over the years things have changed. Now instead of a trip to the CNE to try out the latest iPhone, BlackBerry, blueberry, megapixel digital camera, or incredibly fast laptop, inspect new household appliances, or perhaps spend some time checking out all the newest cars, it’s off to Best Buy, the Bay, or the local car dealer.
One thing that has remained constant down through the years has been the idea of introducing the latest mass transit vehicles to the general public at the CNE. In fact, if we go back to the 1880s, the Exhibition was the site of a world first in the field of transportation. It was at the fair held in the fall of 1885 that Belgian-American inventor Charles Van Depoele got together with Toronto’s John J. Wright (an inventor in his own right), and together they developed the world’s first electric railway that collected electricity from an overhead wire using a trolley pole and small wheel. The electricity was then fed to motors located under the floor of their steel-wheeled vehicle. Revolutionary at the time, this particular current collecting feature was unique and continues to be used on all of the TTC’s surface streetcars.
The experiment, though successful in 1885 with more than fifteen thousand amazed (and, more importantly, paying) passengers carried over the rails placed along the north side of the fairgrounds from a terminal near Strachan Avenue to a location near the present Music Building, had been less so during the Exhibitions held the previous two years. That was because the more common third rail form of power collection (such as that found in modern subways around the world) was used.
A spark of genius just prior to the 1885 fair (we’re not sure whose spark it was, the Canadian’s or the American’s) prompted the idea of placing the power collection equipment up in the air, well away from the dangerous third rail and more importantly any wayward pedestrians.
The Exhibition’s experimental railway continued for another few years. Its success led to the eventual electrification of the city’s Church Street line in 1892. Within two more years all the previous horse car routes had been electrified. Passengers were happy … and I suppose so too were the horses.
Visitors to the 1885 edition of the Toronto Industrial Exhibition (the name wouldn’t officially become the Canadian National Exhibition until 1912) were amazed to see and ride the newest public transit vehicle. And it was powered by the wonder of the age, electricity. Note the revolutionary trolley pole on the vehicle’s roof.
Other displays related to improvements in public transit vehicles were featured at future Exhibitions. For instance, just as the TTC was about to come into being (exactly