Parading the Streets

Through the recent establishment of "remember groups" on Facebook I have been amazed at the level of participation and interest.  In many ways what has emerged is an oral history for our hometown for a period in time between the late 1950s and late 70s.  Many people have posted pictures of Bronte and shared their memories, which became the motivation to put my own to pen, in the form of this blog which is titled "Parading the Streets".  There is always a debate as to the true boundaries of Bronte.  Legally there is the former "Village of Bronte" that was merged into Trafalgar Township and Oakville around 1957.  For me the boundaries were defined by how far you walked, rode your bike, where your friends lived and where you went to school. My Bronte, was the Cities Services fountain on the west, the Athletic Field on the east and Rebecca on the north.  Being a bit of a Bronte snob, anyone outside of that area was a wannabe.  There were also two Bront...

It is said that smells and music/sounds have the power to trigger long lost memories.  I was walking through the woods near our house a few days ago and suddenly there was that familiar smell of decomposing leaves.  The cool fall air, leaves slowly drifting downward and that smell got me thinking about the anticipation of Halloween and the coming winter.  In someways the planning for that evening was just as much fun as the actual event.  What were you going to be, who would you go out with, where would you go and what would you get. The costumes of 50 years ago were homemade, resulting in limited choices: a bum, cowboy or ghost. In grades 4 or 5, students spent time decorating a six-quart wooden basket. As they matured (grades 7 and 8), the basket was replaced by a pillowcase, and the costume by a simple mask from Allan’s Drug Store, possibly a hat and old clothes. The objective of these changes was partly to appear more fashionable (or so we believed) and more i...

In my last year at Blakelock, the student council or administration had this wonderful idea of a winter carnival. Two of the activities were to be a campout on the Thursday night and a dance Friday evening. I suspect somewhere along the line in the planning for this event, no one thought to ask the most important question: What could possibly go wrong? There was the obvious challenge of girls and boys camping out, unsupervised at night, even in the dead of winter, who would inevitably try to, using today’s lexicon, "hook up". The answer was simple: girls would camp inside the track, the boys outside, and hire a few security guards to ensure never the two shall meet. Being the ever-resourceful Bronte Boys, Gary Welna, myself, and Terry Houghton decided to "participate" in this fun event. Welna and I had considerable experience camping out in his backyard in summers past. Those experiences are worthy of a story or two and in part are the source of the title of th...