Emigration

Although I have returned to Canada thrice, 2002, 2004 & 2006, since my first visit to it in 1956, the latest three cannot compare to the one all those years ago. Sept 23, 2006 I stayed at the Bond Place for five days in Toronto before heading up to Owen Sound for a wedding. I returned to Toronto again for two days before flying out on Oct 4. Two years earlier I attended a re-union of ex-pats from my hometown of Leith, Scotland in Meaford, Ontario. Even then, I returned to Toronto for the final week of my stay.

In the beginning

As a twenty year old who was about to complete a 5 years` ships plumbing apprenticeship in the shipyards of my hometown of Leith in Scotland, I was encouraged, aye, almost enticed by a Canadian Immigration Officer to make a new life in Canada.

These officers were almost an integral part of the office staff of Travel Agencies in the UK at that time. Such was Canada`s demand for people of the `old country` to relocate to the other side of the Atlantic.

I had gone into Lauries Travel Agency shop in Hanover Street to book a flight to Belfast when I was approached by the Canadian official.

Being asked if I was interested in making a new life in Canada, I told him I had six months of my apprenticeship to complete. This being mid 1955, a lot could happen in the meantime. He would not be put off. '' Why don't you get your Blue Card now?'' he suggested. This way I could go anytime I wished.

I agreed, and four day's later I presented myself at the Canadian offices in Woodside Crescent, Glasgow in September, 1955. Here I completed the necessary form filling and had my medical. Within three days, the statutory Blue Card was delivered to my home. As easy as that. I remember my mother was none too pleased.

Decision Time

Australia, along with New Zealand was equally demanding new faces and as part of their programme, was offering assisted sea passages for just £10.00. Canada may not have been so desperate for no assistance like that was on offer. However, for £55.00 all inclusive travel was available on sea liners. Cunard at that time had four such vessels built entirely for this reason. I opted for the SS Saxonia.

A hic-cup almost presented itself at this time. A week before my sailing date, I was ordered to appear at Dean Park House, Queensferry Road

for my National Service medical examination. I was not too upset at this, for due to an operation on my neck for a tubercular gland removal in 1950, I was sure I would be classed as unfit. I had tried to join the Royal Naval Boy's Service in 1951, and was failed because of it. This I was really upset over. However, I would not be this time.

Lo and behold, the first doctor this time thought otherwise. He didn`t reject me. I was sorely surprised. Anyhow, a second doctor was of the contrary opinion. I could have hugged him. A third doctor was called and he concurred with the latter.

I may tell you that if I had passed, I was still going to sail seven days' later. It would only have meant that I would have had to remain out of the country until I was 26 years old. Then I would have been excused National Service.

Sailing from Liverpool in February, 1956, calling at Cobh, Republic of Ireland, we arrived in Halifax six days later. The majority of the passengers disembarked here to travel onwards by railroad. I had chosen to go onto New York with the vessel thence on to Toronto by rail from Pennsylvania Station.

(Point of interest) The Saxonia was one of four vessels in its class on the Liverpool -Montreal emigrant sailings. They were ''Saxonia, Ivernia, Carinthia and Sylvania.

By this time, I had teamed up with two fellow Scots who were also emigrating. The three of us had a full day in New York, but it was cold. The steam rising from the gratings in the roadway reminded us of the films we had seen of the city.

All this time the excitement of the venture was disguising the fact that the money I had available to me was just £50.00., not enough for a return journey. Never the less, I had been assured that a job would be available for me. Just turn up and you commence straightaway.

I travelled overnight to Toronto arriving early Sunday morning. I took a cab from Union Station and got to the YMCA on College Street. There I booked in for a couple of evenings.

Incidentally I got my first taste of lemon meringue pie there. This taste has delighted me down the years since.

On the Monday morning, still very cold but not a lot of snow around, I found the Department of Employment on Spadina Avenue. Here I was advised by an official to report to Union Station where a job might be available. Alas, on reaching there I was told no such job was readily available. Some time would pass between an application and an offer of employment if at all.

It was a very dejected young Scot that reported back to the employment agency in the afternoon. Money getting less and no immediate job prospect. Where would I stay? Unlike many other Scots, I had nobody I could turn to. Where were the promises of that official back in Scotland?

I duly presented myself again and told the official about all the promises I had been given six months earlier back home. This was nothing like I was told.

I was listened to sympathetically and following an internal phone call. I was told to go upstairs and report to a certain other official. On presenting myself, I was greeted by a Canadian accent with a slight Scottish tinge to it. `Why do they always send you Scots up to me? `` He enquired of me. ``I always feel I have to do something for you. ``

Employment

With that he got on the phone and after an assurance that what he was after was still available, he advised me to find my way to Dupont Street and report to a company called John T Hepburn. They had a labouring position that they would offer me.

Heartened by this, I found my way to the said company. There I was asked if I could commence the following day at their plant on St Clair Avenue near the junction of Old Weston Road. I jumped at this and duly promised I would present myself there the following morning, Tuesday.

Lodgings

Hold on, where would I be lodging? Couldn`t stay in the YMCA all the time. Before returning there, I bought myself some heavy winter outer clothing – lumber jacket, fur helmet and gloves. Money going down fast!

Early evening in the Hostel, I was talking to several young Canadians who showed me some notices on the board advertising room and board for guys such as myself. Calling one I promised to go along later in the evening. This I duly did accompanied by one of the Canadian lads. The house was 18 Springhurst Avenue at the bottom end of Dufferin near the CNE.

It was run by a Mrs. McHugh who was assisted (??) by her son Danny. I think he attended college but was never sure. He was about the house all the time. As well as myself there were several other boarders. I duly moved in that evening.

The following morning, having been given transport instructions, I boarded a streetcar heading east on King Street and alighted at Ossington Avenue. Here I transferred to a trolley bus and headed north to St Clair. Arriving there I again got a streetcar and made my way back west to Old Weston Road. This was the routine I followed for the duration of my stay. Most mornings it was only the driver and myself who spoke English. The other passengers were a motley crowd of new Canadians from Italy and other European states. Sometimes there was some of the Jewish faith by the type of newspapers they were reading.

The Plant

With a little trepidation I made myself known at the plant. If I remember correctly, it was a Mr. Richmond, plant manager, who welcomed me.

I began what was to become a six month period of work with only the weekends off. My rate of pay as lowly labourer was $1.33 per hour. At least it was an income. To be fair to the company I was given every opportunity to advance my position. As it was, my first job was retrieving off cut metal plates from behind the metal guillotine. Within few weeks intervals, I progressed to marking off plates for drilling; assisting an Italian/Canadian by the name of Joe Cecilianni operating four large drills, eventually taking over the job myself. My wage rate was increasing gradually in that time.

Eventually I was given the position of marking off large steel construction beams for drilling and finally the opportunity of going out on sites for steel construction. This I turned down. Worth noting, in the days before political correctness reared its ugly head, I was always known as Scotty. I never felt it was demeaning. It was said in a very friendly way and was received by myself as nothing offensive. Changed days indeed!

Most of my workmates were ex-pats from the Uk with a sprinkling of other Europeans. Some of the British contingent were of an older generation who had been in Canada for sometime. Each and everyone made me most welcome and especially when the signs of homesickness began to rear their horrible heads wihin me. `Where back in Scotland can you get a car for less than $40 said one offering to sell me his, a Volkswagen Beetle. Being that I could not drive, I turned the offer down, but not before it had given me food for thought.

The factory had no canteen or restaurant facilities and lunch depended upon what you brought in by yourself in your box. A local caterer did appear with his mobile shop supplying soft drinks and a variety of sandwiches and cookies. I remember that I used to have peanut butter sandwiches that I had never tasted before. I must admit I took a lasting taste for them.

Home Sickness

Early on in my stay in Toronto, I did feel the pains of homesickness. Taking into account that travel between the UK and Canada was mainly done by ship, no e-mails in those days, only airmail, telephone calls exorbitant in price, then a feeling of isolation was not easy to allay. I mistakenly made this known to my mother back home and she kept on at me not to change my mind in staying.

However I was soon getting used to the new way of life and what with the summer weather replacing the cold of my arrival, I had much misgiving in going back. My new friends and workmates cajoled me terribly into staying, but understood in appreciating that I had no family like them to return to in the evenings. I was really torn. The following piece did not help.

Fellow Lodgers

Where I stayed in Springhurst Avenue, the following persons were also in lodging. A fellow Scot called George who was due to return to Scotland within a few months. Not much help here in fighting my periods of homesickness. He kept on at me at what he would be returning to and hoping he was not putting me in a bad way with it. No, not all I would lie to him.

A lad from Saskatchewan stayed there. Joe was the son of a Ukrainian immigrant. I don`t know what he worked at ( don`t think he did) but he was always on the lookout for the perfect job. Always impeccably dressed. By the time I left him six months later, he was still looking for the ideal job.

Then there was Jacques Tremblay. A French Canadian who worked for the CNR in Quebec, he was sent down to Toronto to learn some English. We would offer to help him in the evenings. However what we taught was not the Queens English. We would teach him slang and some naughty words without telling him the true meanings. `Eh Bien! `` He would reply to us.

In the evenings we would gather around the television. Some of the programmes of the time were, Sergeant Bilko, Ed Sullivan Show, Jackie Gleason in `The Honeymooners`

And not forgetting the first time we saw a young Elvis Presley guesting on the Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey Show. Some of the hit songs of the day were, `Wayward Wind` `Why do fools fall in love`, `Poor People of Paris`, and the Platters, `Magic Touch`.

All in all, we were a happy and contented bunch who resided there but there were times when we would be a bit disconcerted. One in particular was Mrs. McHugh`s culinary offerings. In the beginning her evening meals were varied and acceptable but in time she became a little lackadaisical. She would offer up wieners and mustard. After a hard day`s work this was not what we wanted.

One evening we all gathered in my bedroom and prepared a course of action. By this time there was another lad from Newfoundland who had joined us. Danny McHugh was obviously not included. We resolved that the next time the wieners were put before us we would not complain. We would just push our plates forward and get up from the table. She got the message. Things changed.

I can`t let George go at this stage before I mention these. We were both going out to the movies one evening and were just heading up to King Street when we spied a crowd gathering around a tree. We joined them and spotted a lad who had clambered up into the lower branches. Then we saw that he was trying to dislodge a raccoon from out of the tree. Eventually the animal fell to the ground and before we knew it another lad leapt forward and kicked it.

George and I were stunned at this brutality, and without much thought, he strode forward and laid the culprit low with a punch to the jaw. With that, we both took to our heels before the crowd had realized just what had happened. We escaped.

One evening before he left for home, we were suffering from the extreme humidity and with no air conditioning available to us; we took ourselves down to the shore of the lake, Ontario. There we cooled ourselves with a midnight dip in the waters. It was lovely.

George eventually returned to Scotland in June.

Interests

How did I pass my spare time whilst in Toronto? Well Saturday mornings I would take myself east downtown to Queen and Yonge and do some shopping in the old Eaton`s dept. store that is now the Hudson Bay Co. Eatons now being re located in their brand new shopping complex that runs the length of Yonge Street from Queen to Dundas. Another favourite shop was SS Kresge on Bay.

Other days I would go down to the seafront and view the Manchester Liners that plied between Toronto and the city in their names.

Varsity Stadium was another venue where I visited a few times. Touring soccer clubs from the UK would play home sides here. Aberdeen visited in 1956 and their opposition was a Toronto Italian club with the obvious name, Italia.

During my time here in the City in 1956, I had the pleasure of meeting up with Mr Leslie Saunders who had been Mayor up to his defeat by Nathan Phillips in 1955. Mr Saunders had been the editor in chief of the newspaper 'The Sentinel' that I had been privileged to read when copies were sent to Scotland. In those early years of mine I had been a member of the Orange Order. This also resulted in me attending a Lodge in Toronto called Lodge Medcalf.

As well as all that, I attended a few meetings of the Salvation Army.

Night life was almost non existent. Although I did find myself enticed to visit an area of ill repute at that time. Church and Jarvis. I won’t go into this except to say that I was a changed person from the raw green lad that I was before.

Today

As I mentioned earlier, I revisited Toronto on two occasions in 2002 and 2004. Worth noting here that I was surprised how much Toronto had not changed in this period. Yes, downtown had, for the Canadian Bank of Commerce was the tallest building there in 1956. Apart from that, all the other areas were as I remembered them. I don`t mean this in a disrespectful way for I think it is wonderful that this is so. I even revisited Springhurst Avenue and `my lodgings` were still there. I attach a photo of myself outside it that was taken in 2002.