Rogue School Board: Avon Maitland DSB

Avon Maitland District School Board has decided to close the only school in our community of Blyth.

So what, you may say! That’s happening to many communities!

This is the community that I know well, and I just want to use it to illustrate how these closures can affect any small rural community. You have to understand the Ground Zero realities before you can grasp the enormity of what is occurring across Ontario.

We have been told by the school board that rules over our Huron-Perth education system, that they can no longer afford to operate our school. Our elementary students, almost all of them, will have to be bussed to a different municipality for their schooling, Central Huron. It is, they say, a simple matter of saving money by reducing the number of school sites.

Well, sometimes they say it is not entirely a matter of saving money; it is a question of improving education quality. To achieve this, they are building a large 24 classroom school in Wingham. This, some say, is a great step forward. The vice chair of the school board stated at the sod-turning ceremony that it was impossible to provide quality education in those old school buildings. The new school will, he said, open doors for the children that we can barely imagine today.

The Director of Education in 2009 gave a different explanation. He told an ARC meeting that the new school construction is being funded under the economic stimulus program, so we had better get busy and make our decisions quickly to please the Ministry and get this money working. So it’s not to save money; it’s not to improve education; in fact it is not an educational program at all; it’s just a project to spend a few million dollars to build a school – somewhere – to help out the economy.

That turns out to be the most plausible explanation for this school. But anyway, lucky Wingham! They are getting stimulated. Too bad for Blyth, however. Their school is going to be sacrificed to make the new school appear to be serving a real educational purpose!

To add insult to injury, only a handful of our Blyth children will ever get a chance to attend this Nirvana of educational bliss. Instead most of our children will be riding a bus down the road south to Londesborough to another of those old school which like Blyth Public School lacks the ambiance required to deliver excellent education. Here I thought teachers did the educating – not bricks and mortar.

So in return for giving up our only school, what are we in Blyth getting in return?

No joy, that’s for sure; just a long list of losses and a very bleak future for the community of Blyth.

· No children able to walk to school,

· No school board employees living or working in the community,

· No ability to attract or retain young families to the community

· 10% to 20% drop in residential property values (this decline is already in evidence)as a community which has no school

· Reduced business investment in the community

· Reduced patronage of existing businesses

· Loss of connection with the community culture and spirit

· Reduced connection between parents and school

· Loss of community identity in the present and in the future

· Loss of a major community meeting place

· Local taxpayers having to pay for development costs for a new school in another community

One wonders why our own elected officials would do this to us. 


I sent some questions to the Director of Education, Ted Doherty, to help me understand the thinking behind the Blyth decision. He provided no answer to any of my questions. He wrote: “I have read your letter numerous times. The only thing I can say is that I am sorry you feel as you do, but the proper processes were followed. The school board has to make difficult decisions.” That was the whole letter. If that is not a sign of a fortress mentality, I don't know what is.

The really scary part of this is that similar scenarios are playing out all over Ontario.

One of our very attractive houses in Blyth has dropped in value by fifteen percent, $32,000, in the past year, solely because of the school closure. Imagine the loss across our entire community. Several million dollars for sure! Then think about what that means for property values across the length and breadth of Ontario where other rogue boards are behaving almost as irrationally as AMDSB.

My goal is to find some way either to force the school boards (including AMDSB) to change their deplorable decisions, or to convince the opposition parties and rural backbenchers to find a political solution which will force the weakened Liberal government to find a way to end this madness and do the right thing.

We need lots of support from small rural communities. We are all being affected.

Madame Minister: You Make me Angry!

I received a letter today from Ontario's Minister of Education, Leona Dombrowsky. I waited for seven weeks for this letter. I had no great expectations that this letter would contain good news or any nice surprises. My modest expectations turned out to be appropriate. There was nothing good in the letter. Still it has had a dramatic effect on me.

I AM ANGRY? DEEPLY ANGRY!

Actually the anger that I feel surprises me. I have been in this fight on the closing of our Blyth Public School for years. I am fully aware that the chances are slim to nil that the decision will be reversed.

So I am asking myself why am I suddenly so bitterly angry at Leona Dombrowsky.

Perhaps it is in part because of the experience we've been through during the past week with the death of Jack Layton and the outpouring of emotion we have been feeling. Yes, that is really part of it. Here I am reading a letter from an Ontario Cabinet Minister who is presiding over a slimy government ploy, a kind of tag team game with Avon Maitland DSB, closing schools for no good reason, pretending that they have consulted us, telling us lies and manufacturing stories to make un-involved people think that they are "doing the right things".

Yes, this is one reason why the anger boils over. We have marvelled at the stories of Jack, this very courageous man, we've been moved by his letter to Canadians, we've shed a few tears seeing the deep sorrow of his wife, Olivia, and noting her personal strength. Even though I have never voted for his party, I have been thinking how great it would be to find another provincial or federal leader with that kind of character and moral fiber. None come to mind at the present.

And here I am instead reading a letter from a political hack, covering up her tracks, trying to justify the actions of school boards who are tearing the heart and soul out of community after community by closing their only schools. There is no right of appeal. They do not need to explain their reasoning to anyone. They don't even need to apologize. And the Minister just turns a blind eye to the carnage these boards like AMDSB are inflicting on their neighbours' communities. And she writes letters to us, as if we are just having a minor disagreement of opinion. Then she has the nerve to suggest that concerned people like me "work with their local school board and assist in the transition of students to their new accommodations..."

How do we deal with people whom we cannot believe? How can we trust our local school board once they have stabbed our community in the back? The big shock came about a few weeks ago when I came to the realization that this is not just a local scam perpetrated by our school board; it is being done in collusion with our provincial Liberal government who issued what appear to be very strict rules for boards to be open, consultative, fair, community-sensitive, and then do absolutely nothing to enforce those rules.

I have no idea which party I will vote for on October 6, but it will definitely not be the Ontario Liberal Party!

Brock Vodden

The Truth About Accommodation Review in North Huron

There is no doubt that the Avon Maitland District School Board cheated in its conduct of the Pupil Accommodation Review for North Huron. The Ministry on its website describes both the authority of school boards to make decisions about closing, consolidating and building new schools,  and the mandatory requirements which the boards MUST meet in making and implementing these decisions.

The Ministry's requirements are presented in bold below with comments on how the AMDSB failed to meet each of these requirements. Key words are italicized for emphasis by the blog author:

This process must follow the school board's policy that governs accommodation reviews.
Boards are required to ensure their own accommodation review policy (also known as a school closure policy) is compliant with the ministry's revised guideline.


The board failed to follow its own policies and ignored many of the ministry's guidelines. The most critical oversight was the board's failure to complete a valuation of the school to the local economy. Had this criterion been completed honestly, it would have been impossible for the board to close the BPS.

The ministry has issued a Pupil Accommodation Review Guideline that outlines the minimum requirements for school boards. 
This statement means that the ministry's guidelines are mandatory, since they are minimum requirements. Approximately half of those guidelines were violated in the board's actual procedures.

The heart of this process is community consultation through representation on the ARC and through public meetings.
The representation on the ARC was not even close to a reflection of the Blyth community. There was no representation from Blyth business, Blyth Ward  councillors, members at large from the community. Invitation were sent home with pupils for their parents; consequently the participants were mostly from the school community.

The ministry encourages students, parents and community members to get involved in the accommodation review process.
The entire ARC process in North Huron was a farce in that the board had already made its decisions. The community involvement turned out to be irrelevant. In fact, the ARC served the board as a diversion to keep the the school community busy while it carried out the administration's plans.

This document provides school boards and their communities with a tool to ensure transparency and accountability in an accommodation review process.
The boards decisions were all made in secret since they bear no relationship to the discussions that took place in the community forums. There was no transparency. Since neither the ministry, the Minister, the facilitator, and the community could not change the decision or appeal it, there was no accountability

Since the Ministry has made no effort to enforce its guidelines, has presented no sanctions for boards' deviations from the spirit and the words of their policy, the Ministry itself is at fault for the damage being done to communities such as Blyth by its becoming a community with no school.

Boards are required to ensure their own accommodation review policy (also known as a school closure policy) is compliant with the ministry's revised guideline.
As mentioned above, many of the ministry's guidelines were ignored by AMDSB, but also the ministry-appointed "independent" facilitator made no mention of those oversights in her review of the petition.

It appears that much of the boards decision-making took place in secrecy, taking illegal advantage of in camera meetings with no public scrutiny and no transparency.

Canadian Democracy Threatened

Our Member of parliament in this riding of Huron-Bruce is Mr. Ben Lobb, a member of the Conservative Party of Canada. Ben is running for re-election in the big event which takes place May 2, 2011.

I like Ben. I've met him several times, and each time he has been doing something or presenting something which is good for this area, and he speaks well and sincerely about the meaning of the task he is performing. A couple of times Ben has gone to bat for the Huron County organization when the government of which he is a part has been doing something which is clearly harmful to the good efforts of our County. He has been successful in one of these attempts, which is no small achievement for  a rookie MP.

Every time I see Ben, and even when I see his campaign signs - hundreds of them - I feel sad. I am sad that this fine young man is part of this dreadful Conservative Party of Canada and the government headed by the most dangerous prime minister Canada has ever had.

I was especially sad the other day when I learned that Ben had told a lie in an interview. It was no a slip of the tongue. It was a deliberate pre-programmed lie. He said that the opposition parties had brought the government down by voting against the Conservative budget. Of course that is not true. Mr. Harper's government was found in contempt of parliament, and was defeated by a vote of no confidence. That means that the majority of the members of parliament have no confidence in the government. That situation obliges the government to resign.

Why am I so concerned about this "one small fib"? It is because this little fib is part of a culture of lies, deceptions, ethical lapses, dishonourable  actions, unparliamentary gaffs, anti-democratic ploys that have been deliberately and methodically perpetrated by Prime Minister Steven Harper and spread by members of his robotic cabinet and his faithful backbenchers. I have always respected the office of prime minister, even when I did not completely agree with his/her policies and principles. Until now!

The only political party I have ever joined was the Progressive Conservative Party of Canada. When Peter McKay sold out that party to the Reform and Alliance gangs to form the Conservative Party of Canada, and elected Harper as leader, they sent me a membership card for the new party. I tore it up right away.

There are former Progressive Conservatives in the Tory caucus, but we don;t hear much from. Peter McKay has remained in cabinet in a major post, but I suspect this is his payment for betraying his original party. However there is no vestige of the values and principles that drew me to the PC party in the past.

The big lie, unfortunately. seems to have worked for Harper, although I am sure that a large part of the creidit for the last minute surge in the NDP camp is the result of people deciding they have had enough of Stevie's lies.

My new motto "ANYBODY BUT HARPER".

Memories of Blyth Fire Brigade

Memories of Blyth’s Fire Department

By Brock Vodden

The Blyth Fire Brigade has always been an important part of our community. This is as true today as it was in earlier days; however, the social aspects of their roles have changed to fit the times.

I’d like to share a few memories and impressions I have of the brigade when I was growing up in the 1930s and 1940s.

I mention both “memories” and “impressions” to distinguish between accurate recollections and childhood impressions of what went on in those days.

THE FIREMEN’S DANCE

The dominant memory I have is that of the annual Firemen’s Dance. It seems to me that almost everyone in the community came out to this event – and not just the adults – it was an event for men women and children of all ages. There were no babysitters in this era. No one left their children at home with babysitters. Young people of babysitting age, would have been at the dance; they would not think of missing that dance!

The babes came to the dance, too. The event always took place in the winter time. Winter coats, all of them, were piled on two long tables in the kitchen area of the lower floor of Memorial Hall. The piles of coats served as a very comfortable bed for the infants who mostly slept their way through the evening wrapped in their baby blankets.  Children who were mobile joined in the dances or played the usual children’s games as long as they could stay awake, but some of them would be deposited on the “coat bed” as well when they became victims of the late hours.

The music would be provided by one of the local orchestras playing all the familiar tunes of the era. “Watt’s Orchestra” is the main one that I recall. It consisted of Bob Watt who played the mandolin and banjo and saxophone. He also played the big sousaphone in the local brass band, and his day job was coal dealer. Mrs. Watt played the piano, and there was a violinist as well, but I can’t recall his name.

The dance styles included waltzes, schottisches, square dances, fox trot, and polka.  When I was really young, a new dance style arrived from England known as the Lambeth Walk. It was one of those dance crazes that was exclusively applied to one piece of music. In this case a piece called The Lambeth Walk.

My aunt, Jean Turvey Cook, was living with us while she attended Clinton Collegiate. She was caught up in the Lambeth Walk fad and recruited me to perform this with her. At one of the firemen’s dances the orchestra played the piece while my aunt and I performed the dance, I am sure to the delight of all present.  I can't remember any of the moves in this dance; all I can recall is the last line of the chorus: “Doin’ the Lambeth Walk! OY!” It seems to me that we shouted out the final “OY!” and at the same time threw up our hands. As the piece went on, the audience joined in the “OY”! This part of my story is more impressionistic than factual. I think I was possibly four or five years of age at the time.

The mood of these events was uninterruptedly happy. Everyone seemed to be absolutely delighted to be there and to be in the company of all the others, and to be listening to that very familiar music, and to perform all those familiar dances. Even a young kid could sense that atmosphere.  There was no need for security. We were just one big happy, friendly community family.

I think the lunch that was always provided by the firemen (or perhaps by their wives, to be exact) was one of the many highlights of these evenings. The quantity and quality of the food and the coffee was amazing. Lunch was announced. The members of the orchestra put down their instruments and came of their platform to join us.  We all found chairs around the four walls of the hall. There were enough chairs for everyone. Soon some pairs of firemen emerged from the kitchen with large baskets full of sandwiches. The sandwich fillings that I remember were ham (with mustard), salmon, egg salad, but there may have been others. The white bread was always very fresh – made that very day at either Hollyman’s or Vodden’s Bakery. The baskets were a type of laundry basket that I have not seen for many years. But each one held many sandwiches and the firemen made countless trips around the dance floor urging everyone to take just a few more.

A moment after the sandwiches appeared, other firemen began to deliver heavy white china coffee cups, followed by large white enamel urns of steaming hot coffee. The coffee was already doctored with rich cream and lots of sugar. We had never heard of people drinking coffee without these fixings. The coffee was made in a large copper boiler. The method: Fill one copper with cold water and place on hot stove and bring to a full boil. Place one pound of ground coffee in a cheese cloth bag and sew the bag closed. Drop the coffee bag into boiler for (I don't know how long). Add cream and sugar to the boiler to taste.

PERFECT! There has never been coffee served to large gatherings with such a wonderful aroma and flavour since those days.

After lunch, the dancing would resume until 1:00 a.m.

TRICKSTERISM

Many years after leaving Blyth, while living in Northwestern  Ontario, we made friends with a lady from that area who had spent some time in Huron County when she was quite young. She was a pleasant and intelligent woman, but she did not have a keen sense of humour. She had developed what one might call a “mixed” impression of Huron County people – particularly the men. It seemed to her that men of this area were constantly playing very cruel and demeaning practical jokes on each other.

I was surprised at first to hear of this sort of general condemnation of Huronites. But on reflection, I realized that there was certain validity to that reputation. Not everyone in this county performed these jokes, but I had a sizeable collection of stories about such antics. I suppose I had always assumed that people from other counties enjoyed the same sport.

One of the practical jokes in my collection took place at a weekly fire brigade meeting.

Just a brief background to set the scene.

Bill Morritt had served as secretary for the fire brigade for several years. Never one to stand on ceremony, each time he read the minutes of the last meeting he would end with something like “Old Bill, Secretary.” When Bill decided to withdraw from that job, a new member was elected as secretary. He was one of the local pharmacists, Earl Willows. Earl took his new post quite seriously. At the conclusion of his reading of the minutes, he intoned the following in a very officious voice: “E.H. Willows. Secretary”.  Just one more detail. Earl was an avid cigarette smoker except when in his pharmacy, but he had a habit of leaving the fag in his lips long after it had expired.

On one occasion, the fire meeting was taking place in the Morritt implement shop close to Memorial Hall. When Earl began reading the minutes, Bill Morritt slipped into the next room and retrieved a very large iron bar and then tiptoed back into the meeting room close behind Earl.

When Earl closed the minutes with “E.H. Willows. Secretary”, Bill dropped the iron bar with a resounding crash, Earl dropped his minute book and swallowed the remains of his dead cigarette.

A funny story. Amusing to all (except perhaps Earl).  A way of saying “Don’t take things or yourself too seriously”. An exclusively Huron County practical joke? I am not sure.

Santa Claus was a Fireman

When I was a pre-schooler, my parents operated a bakery in Blyth. The bakery was then located in the store across from Memorial Hall where some readers will recall the Blyth Apothecary was located, and  then Tim Saunders’ Antique Store. Behind the retail portion of the store, the north wall was covered with wooden shelves with drawers which were not used much. One Saturday morning, for no particular reason, I began opening each drawer to see what was inside. I came upon one drawer that was completely empty except for a pair of gray cloth gloves.  It must have struck me as strange because I had never seen such gloves in our place before.

That afternoon, Santa Claus came to town. He was travelling by train in those days. He was to arrive at the Grand Trunk Station on Dinsley Street. My mother took me to the station for the event. Soon the old steam engine chuffed and huffed into town from the south. The conductor opened the coach door and set out a small steel platform. Then the familiar red suit and white beard appeared. My mother picked me up so that I would be able to see St. Nick through the crowd and began to move through the crowd towards St. Nick. The Ho, Ho, Hos were coming closer. Santa was holding his large bag of toys over his shoulder, holding on tight with his hands covered with . . . .gray cloth gloves! I remarked to mother the similarity of the gloves to the ones I had seen in the drawer in the bakery.

Suddenly my mother remembered that she had something important to do back at home, and we returned to the vehicle, and that was the end of the Santa Claus visit for me.

A few years later when I had figured out the Santa Claus thing, I remembered this scene. My mother told me that she was afraid that the clue provided by the gloves would increase the chance that I would see through my father’s disguise as soon as he came really close to us. Parents in those days went to great lengths to protect the secret of Santa Claus from their young children. They were convinced that an early discovery would have a devastating effect on kids for whom the mythology was very real.

Each year, the firemen with the required shape, took this trip from Londesborough to Blyth on the GTR in a red suit. The firemen arranged a parade from the station to Memorial Hall where they gave out a bag of candies and an orange to every child in the village. My father was a fireman for several years but I was not aware of his playing the Santa Claus role again. In those days, our grocery stores seldom stocked oranges except at Christmas time. They were a very special treat.

More for the Children

The members of the fire brigade, in the course of their duties, often got an intimate view of home situations – very often the conditions under which children were living. The men were very discreet about these findings and equally discreet about the treats, toys, and other gifts that found their way into these homes following their discoveries. I have never heard or read any detailed account specific examples of these informal social welfare deeds, which indicates to me the code of secrecy at play here.

Ringing the Fire Bell

There was a white cord hanging down the front of Memorial Hall, attached to a clanger at the bottom of the bell in the tower above, with the other end neatly wrapped around a cleat anchored beside the front door of the Hall. This rope was used to activate the clanger to strike the bottom of the bell, giving a very different sound than when the clapper strikes the inside of the body of the bell. Everyone could tell when the bell was using for fire related purposes. In response to a fire, the bell was rung continuously for as long as it took for the men to arrive.

Each week, the firemen held “fire practice”. The tradition was that either the village constable or one of the firemen would ring the fire bell to call the men to the meeting. A special ring rhythm was used to call men to the practice. That rhythm was one, two, three, pause; one, two, three, pause, etc.

One evening I happened to be in the vicinity of the Hall when John Cowan, the village constable, came to ring the bell for fire practice. Imagine the delight when he asked if I would like to do the honours. He knew that there was no need for any instruction since I had lived across the street from the Hall for years and had heard the rhythm countless times. I got to call the Blyth Fire Brigade to their fire practice! What a thrill!

Our First Fire Truck

In 1941 a used fire truck was purchased. It served the village for a number of years.  It is still used in parades. I recall the day it arrived in the village. It was parked in the centre bay of Doherty Brothers White Rose garage while Gar Doherty, who was a great mechanic and also a member of the fire brigade, checked it over. Gar asked me if I’d like to sit in the seat and try out the siren. Silly question for a seven-year-old boy! I can vividly remember the thrill of turning the crank on the siren and creating all that noise.

By the way, this garage was located where the village parking lot is now at the corner of Queen and Drummond.

The Flax Yard Fire

Many years ago there was a flax mill located on the property where the Queen’s Villa Apartments now stand. One night we were awakened by the dreaded night sound of the fire bell. Looking out the back window of our house on Dinsley Street, we could see a very large glow above the roof tops of the houses behind ours. My parents and I got dressed quickly and headed out to see what was going on. It is one thing to see a building going up in flames. This was a field in flame – a very large mass of flax straw which had been piled south of the old flax mill as long as I could remember.

There was a really heavy smoke hanging in the air. Our firemen were doing the best they could to spray water on the burning areas, but the tiny stream coming from the hoses were clearly not up to the job of bringing this very broad inferno to heel.

As I recall the fire alternately smoked and flared for several days and small fire crews watched and sprayed the area through that time until the fire gave up.

I do not know if they ever discovered the actual cause of the fire, but I believe that the general consensus declared spontaneous combustion as the probable cause.

George Radford Construction Co. Fire

George Radford purchased the large building on the north west corner of King and Queen street from the estate of Dr. James Perdue, Blyth’s famous veterinarian and character. Radfords used this building for the care and maintenance of their rapidly growing construction business which involved a number of large trucks, bulldozers, and other heavy equipment.

One day I came down with the flu and had stayed home from school.  I heard the fire alarm, looked out my bedroom window and was able to see the Radford building belching black smoke with flames shooting out of the roof. This was a very serious fire which took a great deal of time to knock down.

My recollection of the cause of the fire was that while one person was operating welding equipment at one end of the building, another man at the other end was filing up a gasoline tank. The description of the scene in the building was most vivid. Very suddenly the air in the building, filled with fumes, became ignited in a flash. The burning went from a few feet above the floor up to the roof. The men working in the building were able to walk out unscathed by crouching below the fire and walking out of the building as quickly as possible.

Everything in the building was destroyed. George Radford restored the building, using as much of the original structure as possible.

When the fire was completely out and the firemen were looking over the damage, they made a shocking discovery. Two of the men had been positioned for a lengthy period of time shooting water into the building through a window on the south side of the building. Stacked below this window they discovered several cases of dynamite. They apparently were told that fire alone would not set the dynamite off without some percussion, but they were still shaken by the thought of what might have happened to them.

Conclusion

As mentioned in the opening, our fire brigade has always been an important part of our community. They volunteer to protect the community, and not only that: they have always contributed in many other ways towards the betterment of the village.  And that statement remains true to this day.

Remembering Emmer Dennis

Emmerson Dennis

Machinist and Story Teller Extraordinaire

Dennis Family Background

Thomas Alexander Dennis came to Canada from England as a child with his parents in 1845.  He arrived in McKillop Township in 1866 and lived on Concession XIII North, Lot 19 and raised a family of 4 sons and 3 daughters.

Two of the sons, Harry and John, formed a partnership and ran a threshing outfit for many years.  (A picture of their outfit may be seen in the McKillop Township history book.)  The steam engine that provided power for threshing also ran the grinder and the saw that cut wood for heating the house.

Thomas Henry (Harry)’s Family

Thos.’s son Harry, married Matilda Forbes and they had 5 sons: Ephraim Edward, called Eph., and Wilson, called Wils, and Porter Allen, called Port, and Emmerson, called Emmer, and Lloyd.

Emmer, born December 26, 1885, at Lot 15, Concession 14 south, McKillop Township, was the only boy in the family who went to high school.  He attended Brussels Continuation School.  At age 17, he headed west to join his brother, Wils, in a lumber camp in B.C.  He would go west for the winter and come back in the spring to plant his crop in McKillop.  Before returning home for good, Emmer tried his hand at homesteading in Alberta.

As the boys grew up, several of them, went west as farmers and adventurers.  One of them, of course, was Emmerson, who came home around 1920 -1922.  He had trained as a machinist in B.C. and used that trade as he made his way home.  Once there, he set up shop on the home farm.  During the summer, he worked at home and with neighbouring farmers.  In the winter he did lathe work and repaired local machinery.  He was likely inventing things as he did in later life.

Mrs. Dennis was always urging the 5 boys to marry.  With a household of men, she longed for a female family member or two.  The family still has a letter that she wrote to Wils telling him that she had spent $25.00 (a huge amount at that time) for a dress for his wedding which never did occur.  Perhaps she wore it to other weddings.

Emmer was always a great tease and loved to tell yarns and play tricks.  While out west he had a picture postcard made of himself standing with a young woman and a baby, which he sent home.  Of course he had neither wife nor baby at that time.

Around 1934 a widow, Barbara Shultz, took the job as hired girl on the home farm in McKillop, and helped keep the household running.

One morning in April of 1937, to the family’s surprise, neither Emmer nor Barb were there.  Perhaps they left a note saying they had gone to be married.

Emmer Dennis, Blyth, Ontario

The newly weds made their home on Drummond Street in Blyth where Emmer had a machine shop.  He sharpened lawn mowers, better than anyone else, I am told.  He made parts for machinery, repaired and built guns, and worked with Russell Dougherty who had been a neighbour in McKillop, to make machinery for his turnip plant.  In the 1930s, Russell started the turnip waxing plant in his garage on Queen Street in Blyth, thus giving work to 5 men.  Emmer helped Russell make his dream and plans for a precision turnip seeder a reality.  Emmer would have been the only man in Blyth at the time with the technical skills, the necessary equipment,  and experience to do such a job.  He had learned the trade of machinist in B.C. many years before.  Both Emmer and Russell were held in high regard in the village for their intelligence and kindness to others.

People of Blyth believed Emmer could fix anything, no matter how complicated.

Emmer and Barb's Home on Drummond Street, Blyth

In his shop was a large bull’s eye with bullet holes only in the centre.  Some adventuresome sort snuck around and peeked in the window and discovered the secret.  One of Emmer’s guns, aimed at the bull’s eye, was held securely in a vise.  The bull’s eye was proof of the excellence of the guns he was actually making.  The gun was held in the vise to align the sights.  His nephew recalls that he would put the gun in the vise and open the east door of his shop, outside of which, he had a target set up with a bale of hay for support.

Emmerson also made a long bow and a cross bow.  When nephews would come to visit, he would let the boys try using them.  He set up cardboard boxes behind the target to stop the arrows that missed the target.

As long as children were reasonably well behaved, Emmer would let them hang around his shop and watch as he worked and entertained them with his tall tales.  Many boys had permission from their mothers to go straight to Emmer’s after school.

One story he told was about his experience during a tornado out west.  He was carrying a plank across his shoulders when the tornado came out of nowhere, caught that plank and screwed him right into the ground.

He mesmerized children with his tales of the alligators he had “for sure” seen in the Blyth Creek to the north of his house.  He even convinced them that he knew how the critters made their way there.

He had discovered native artifacts on the McMillan farm at the east end of the village of Blyth.  He often took boys there to dig.  Johnny Morritt, when 80 years old, spoke warmly of those child hood experiences.  Emmer told the boys that what they were finding proved that Indians had camped at that site by the Blyth Creek.  His own interest in the artifacts began when he was a boy and many arrow heads were discovered on the home farm. 

Emmer never owned a car and often men who were going out of town would invite him along.  His company was always entertaining.  One day Harold Vodden and his son Brock, 16, asked him to go to Kitchener.  On the way home they ate steaks at a restaurant.  At home again, he told Barb, “You should have seen the steak this young lad ate.  It was this big!”and he indicated a platter size.

To be allowed to visit the Dennises on Hallowe’en Night was a treat coveted by all Blyth children.  Barb and Emmer welcomed all visitors warmly.  If lucky, they would hear some of Emmer’s stories.  On the table would be a mound of popcorn balls.  Before the witches and hobgoblins were allowed to take one, they had to sing a song or recite a poem.  In later years, as Barb’s health declined, she was no longer able to make the famous popcorn balls but neither she nor Emmer would want to disappoint the children, so they put out saucers of freshly popped corn for each visitor.

One time, when Barb was in hospital in London, around 1949, Emmer walked up to The Standard Office where I, aged 13, worked on Saturdays.  He wanted a special card for Barb.  He asked me to write in it, a most affectionate note, which he dictated.  He had the address on a piece of paper for me to copy to the envelope.  I wondered if he couldn’t write but of course he could as he had attended Continuation School and had his machinist papers.

Barb passed away in 1964 and Emmerson Dennis in 1970.

Whenever his name is mentioned, people immediately smile as they at once recall a tall tale he told, or a trick he played, or a kindness he did.  Chuckles follow smiles and many exchanges of memories occur.

To be remembered always with a smile

is

a well-earned living memorial to the life

of

Emmerson Dennis.

This story was written after visits with Emmer’s nephew, Murray and his wife, Oline (Godkin) Dennis, at the Dennis home farm in November 2010.  They kindly shared pictures and stories to add to those we had collected earlier.

Janis (Morritt) Vodden

Repository of Blyth History                              November 18, 2010.

Mourning the Loss of Our School

The school board has issued a press release notifying us that they have a comprehensive set of plans for transitioning to the new proposed school. As each step like this moves us closer to the day that the doors of Blyth Public School will be forever closed, I have another experience of mourning.

It's a personal reaction. Mourning always is. But I am not alone. We are all asking personal questions and mourning.

Who has the right to take away our school? Why are we not represented? We mean,"really" represented! Who stands to gain from this? Why are we gaining nothing? Why are we losing totally?

We are paying the price for school board consolidation, the price of being rural, the price of having too few voices. They took us over, and now they tell us they cannot afford to serve us or represent us. All they can do is collect our taxes.

Brock Vodden

THE BIDDULPH MURDER! A Poem

A Poem composed by Blyth's dray man poet, Richard Sellars in 1880.

1. Of all the crimes that sin has done

To fill our world with pain,

That fearful murder in Biddulph

It horrors can't explain.

2. There was a family lived down there,

Who were the township's dread,

Now through the hands of cruelty,

Are numbered with the dead

3. It seems as though the people round

Of Donnelly were afraid,

And so to rid them of the earth,

This fearful murder made.

4. It happened at the midnight hour,

When Donnellys were asleep,

A mob of persons came around

Their house in blood to steep.

5. They clothed themselves all in disguise,

And with their nigger's face,

They called the Donnelly's out of bed,

To murder in that place.

6. And when they'roused them out of bed,

And one of them was shot,

Then all the reset they beat to death,

With spades and clubs they'd got.

7. When they had done this awful crime

Of horror, sin, and shame,

They went to work and burnt the house

To free themselves from blame.

8. They thought they worked a cunning scheme

Their evils to conceal,

But providence wrote our a plan

Their folly to reveal.

9. The Connors boy stopped there all night,

And with them did retire,

And there with sadness did behold

The murder and the fie.

10. The Connors boy to Whalens's went

Who lived across the road,

And there with fright and fear he ran

Their secrets to explode.

11. He was the only ray of light

On this dark scene to shine,

Because his presence filled that place

This mystery could define.

12. No doubt this gang to William's went,

And at this door did knock;

It caused their hearts to fear and quake,

At such a sudden shock.

13. For when the door was opened wide,

They then began their plot,

And when the hear John's dying cry:

"O, Will! O, Will! I'm shot!"

14. And when the cry of death was heard,

The wave of grief did roll,

When that to God poor John did pray,

"Have mercy on my soul!"

15. They waited there all robed in grief,

Until the break of day,

Then went to tell it to the rest,

Who then in ashes lay.

16 O, who can tell their feelings then,

When to their father's came,

And there with grief and sorrow saw

Them melting in the flame.

17. The Vigilance Committee there

Together often met,

So they might plan the way and time

That dreadful night to set.

18. The Vigilants they formed their plan,

Then sent their letters round,

For to foretell the people there

To keep off Donnelly's ground.

19. Or else themselves would have to share

Of what they had to give,

For by the way the Donnellys worked

They had not long to live.

20. The evidence that Whalan gave,

When Hossack did enquire,

Young Connors was the first to come

And tell about the fire.

21. The Lucanite who lived down there

To the reporter said,

"'Twould be a blessing to that place

If Donnellys all were dead!"

22. Because their ways they could not stand,

Of cruelty and spite,

Their horse, cattle, and their barns,

Were injured after night.

23. Reporter asked if others round

Were not as bad as they,

To plan and scheme and work at night,

To take their things away.

24. "No, No, siree," said Lucanite,

"No tongue their crimes can tell,

And those who did that awful deed

The township knows them well."

25. The people felt as though t'was right

For Donnellys to be killed.

For all that place for miles around

With Donnellys crimes were filled.

26. The Lucanite still did reveal

The nature of their way,

The only difference it was their shape

Between a dog and they.

27. When Mrs. Donnelly's fame was told,

For evil was inclined,

Though many acts of kindness done,

She has a wicked mind.

28. For if her sons a foe forgave

And no revenge did tell.

She often prayed that they all might

Forever burn in hell.

29. None of these murderers will be found,

For if their names appear,

Thousands in money is waiting ther

The murderers for to clear.

30. The punishment that Donnellys got

It always was too light

And so the law is most to blame

For the murders of that night.

31. And when the fire was all cooled down,

Those who in ashes lay,

Their cinder all were gathered up

To form their burying day.

32. And when their kindred gathered round,

Four in one coffin lie,

And when they came to view them there,

For grief they could not cry.

33. When Father Connelly's tale was told,

Those Donnellys did annoy,

When certain ones who wished to thresh,

Machines dare not employ.

34. For Donnelly's boys much mischief did,

When Ryan threshed his grain,

Iron and stoner in sheaves were found

To stop their work again.

35. And shortly after this was done

They took another turn,

They thought the'd pay him off at last,

So down his barn did burn.

36. The reason why this deed was done -

'Cause Donnellys got the blame

Of stealing money from Ryan,

So paid it back in flames.

37. The priest himself just summons feared,

His mind was so depressed

For fear that Donnelly, just through spite,

Would bring him to arrest.

38. Detective Phair, with all his gang,

Went to the mournful spot,

To try and find out who 'twas done

The murder and the shot.

39. At last suspicion did alight

On Carrol, their bitter foe,

And when that man they did arrest,

To London had to go.

40. And J. J. Maher, father and son,

Where Carroll did reside;

And they were put in jail to stay

Till all they had were tried.

41. John Kennedy they still pursued,

Him at McLaughlin's got;

A rifle in McLaughlin's found

Which looked as though just shot.

42. Then Patrick Ryder and his sons

They arrested for a while,

And had them placed within the jail

To await the day of trial.

43. The daughter, who lived miles away,

The only one was she;

Her heart was overwhelmed with grief

That dreadful sight to see.

44. Chief Williams letters did receive

His business for to mind,

Or else he would have to share

Of what they had combined.

45. This scene, which did our country shake

And floods of sorrow send,

And many of the Donnellys foes

Converted to a fiend.

46. A neighbor went the night before

The father to advice -

'Twas best for him to when that

So many disputes arise.

47. But this was doubtless in their scheme

The Donnellys for to tell,

For when he said he thought it would

That night in murder fell.

48. These persons now whose names appear

Are waiting to be tried,

Until that the April Assize

Their cases do decide.

49. And when the matter was decided,

Some told it with their tears,

And those who shed their tears of grief

A guilty conscience bear.

50. I now must take my leave of you,

'Tis all I have to tell;

And those who chance to read this poem

I bid you all farewell.

Courtesy of Elaine Scrimgeour Hough August 2010

BLYTH CONTINUATION SCHOOL

1928

Norman P. Garrett, Principal

The Continuation School offered students the chance to acquire a High School Graduation Certificate right here in the village of Blyth. There were three teachers, including the principal, and three classrooms, one of which was set up as a science lab.

Students wishing to go on to Grade 13 (aka Upper School) for and Honours Graduation Certificate had to attend school elsewhere. Virtually everyone from Blyth went to Clinton Collegiate. There was no transportation provided by the school boards; students could travel to Clinton and back by the London, Huron and Bruce train or by automobile, or they might board during the week with a family in Clinton.

Jan and I can identify a few of the students. Not all of the students are full time residents of Blyth. Some will be from other townships or villages who either board with local families or who commute from other areas each day.

Here are the people whom we can identify:

Back Row from the left: #2. Nora Kelly #8 Gertrude Elliott #13 Dorothy Poplestone # 14 Teacher (unidentified) #15 Principal Garrett

Middle Row from left: #1 Marcella McLean #4 Edyth Lockhart #6 Irene Cole #9 Jessie Richmond #13 Edith Beacom.

Front Row from left: #2 ____ Lyon #4 _____ Scrimgeour?

If you can identify any others, please let me know, or if I have erred in identifying, tell me that, too.

This school building was erected in 1896, replacing the former school which is now an apartment building on the east side of Queen street north.

The Continuation School was closed in 1946. That is when busing began, to take all 9 - 13 students to Clinton Collegiate Institute (CCI), now known as Central Huron Secondary School.

I will be entering other school pictures from other eras soon.

Contact me if you would like to have your own copy of this picture.

Brock Vodden