Here’s an ad from the October 5 1951 edition of the Toronto Daily Star for Northway and Son, the women’s clothes manufacturer that had been in business for 76 years.
The Dictionary of Canadian Biography has an entry on the original John Northway, who opened a store in Tillsonburg in 1873. He went on to be successful enough to leave a $1.8 million dollar estate when he passed away in 1926. That’s quite an impressive achievement for a man who started his working life apprenticed to a tailor in England, and whose apprenticeship was so oppressive that he tried to cut off his own thumb to get out of it.
Northway and Son lasted about a decade after this ad appeared. They are listed in the 1961 Toronto city directory but not in the 1963 directory.
The biggest news story in the October 5 1951 edition of the Toronto Daily Star was the royal visit of Princess Elizabeth and her husband Philip, then the Duke of Edinburgh. The royal couple were available for viewing in two locations in Toronto.
The viewing spot in the west end was the CNE Grandstand, where 36,000 people could watch the royal couple go around the track in their motorcade:
In the east end, the royals were to be driven through Riverdale Park. The royal car would go across on Gerrard, up Broadview Avenue, down Royal Drive, and into Riverdale Park:
Within Riverdale Park, the royal route looked like this:
The privilege of viewing the royals was provided to school pupils. They were organized into sections, based on what school they attended.
The layout in Riverdale Park was planned to look much as it did during King George VI and Queen Elizabeth’s royal visit in 1939. 27,000 school pupils would view them there.
There is a National Film Board film of the 1951 royal visit.
To get to Riverdale Park, the royals entered on the appropriately named Royal Drive, which has an interesting history. It was originally named Winchester Drive, and extended from the Don River to Danforth Avenue. It was renamed in 1940 to honour the King and Queen’s 1939 visit. When the Don Valley Parkway was constructed, most of Royal Drive became a northbound on-ramp from Danforth Avenue.
This City of Toronto atlas from the late 1950s shows the original route of Royal Drive and the planned route of the on-ramp:
Here’s the view from Google Maps today:
There’s a path that runs north from the running track into the area where Royal Drive used to be, but it doesn’t follow the route of the old road. Viaduct Park, north of the on-ramp, is now the City Adult Learning Centre.
The entrance to the on-ramp still bears the Royal Drive name. Here’s a photo of it from Google Street View:
I’m thinking that there aren’t too many on-ramps that have a street name!
This 2012 blog entry provides more information on Royal Drive, including some old photos of the area.
Here’s a movie ad from the October 5 1951 edition of the Toronto Daily Star:
I wonder if anyone actually wore gloves to the movie.
Seven Days To Noon was a British drama released there in 1950. It did reasonably well at the box office, and it won an Oscar for Best Story. The opening scene of the movie is available on YouTube.
By the way: when doing (minimal) research for this post, I discovered that Wikipedia has a list of fictional prime ministers of Britain. My favourite names from this list are Alan B’Stard and the Duke of Omnium.
The Ford Prefect was manufactured in Britain from 1938 to 1941, and then again from 1945 to 1961. It was also manufactured in Canada, where it was built with left-hand drive for Canadian roads.
As for Cedarvale Motors: a search of the Toronto city directories revealed that they changed owners several times. They were at 1463 Eglinton West in 1956 and 1961, and they do not appear in the 1963 directory.
Here’s part of an article from the May 23 1951 edition of the Toronto Daily Star, outlining what was to appear in that weekend’s Star Weekly issue. Unfortunately, parts of the article are garbled.
Katalin Karády (1910-1990) lived in interesting times (to paraphrase the old Scottish curse). Crawling five miles to escape Communism was by no means the toughest ordeal that she had to endure:
When the Germans invaded Hungary in 1944, she was accused of spying for the Allied Forces, and spent three months in prison. She was tortured and nearly beaten to death.
In 1949, all of her films were banned, and she was beaten and abused by the Communists.
After escaping Hungary in 1951, Ms. Karády lived briefly in Austria, Switzerland, and Belgium before relocating to São Paulo, Brazil, in 1953, where she opened a fashion shop. In 1968, she moved to New York City. When invited to return to Hungary in 1980 to commemorate her 70th birthday, she sent a hat in her place.
Olivér Lantos (1917-1981) appeared in two movies in Hungary.
In the summer of 1951, rainfall was unevenly distributed in western Canada. Evidence for this can be found in the July 18 1951 edition of the Globe and Mail.
In Calgary, there was flooding:
Vancouver and Victoria had the opposite problem: Vancouver had gone 41 days without rain, and Victoria 38 days. Vancouver tried seeding clouds with dry ice, which didn’t work, so Victoria hired a man with an electrical device:
I looked up Environment Canada’s weather records for 1951, and they show that there was no significant rain in Victoria until August 27, when 19.6 mm of rain fell. September was also unusually dry until two significant rainfalls on September 27 and 29.
But Calgary had gone completely without rain on only three of the first 18 days of July 1951 – there were five days with a trace of rain, and 10 days of measurable rainfall. It got a little better for Calgarians in the rest of the month, but there were two other large rainfall days, on the 24th and the 29th. August 1951 was even worse: it rained heavily (10 mm or more) in six of the last 10 days of the month. By the end of the summer, travel by canoe might have seemed like an attractive option.
The July 18 1951 edition of the Toronto Globe and Mail contained an article about a woman who hoped to be the first Canadian to swim the English Channel:
As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry about raising money to make her way home. Mrs. Morris Leuszler (as the Globe and Mail referred to her) made her attempt on August 16, and was successful – she became the first Canadian to swim the channel. Her time was 13 hours, 25 minutes, which beat the women’s record of 13:42. (The current record holder is Trent Grimsey of Australia, who crossed the channel in 6 hours and 55 minutes. The current female record holder is Yvetta Hlaváčová, who made it across in 7:25.)
Wikipedia has an entry on Winnie Leuszler (1926-2004); she had a number of achievements and honours in her life. She was honoured as Canada’s All Round Athlete of the year in 1946, when she won the five-mile World Swimming Championship while three months pregnant. In addition to her achievements in distance swimming, she became Canada’s first female baseball umpire in 1957. She received the Order of Ontario in 1999.
The January 23 1951 edition of the Toronto Daily Star contained this ad for Dr. Chase’s Nerve Food, in which they offered to send $10.00 to anyone who bought it and didn’t feel better afterwards.
Dr. Chase’s Nerve Food originated in the 19th century, and was one of the many products created by Dr. Alvin Wood Chase (1817-1885). Weird Science has a short entry on Dr. Chase’s Nerve Food, and the Canadian Pharmacists Journal has a scholarly article on almanacs advertising Dr. Chase’s patent medicines.
So, suppose that you’ve picked up $10.00 from the Dr. Chase Medicine Co. Ltd., and you’re not sure what to do with it. One option, in an ad on the same page of the paper, was to recement your furnace:
The Carter Furnace Company had moved to 2581 Yonge by 1955, and does not appear in the 1960 city directory.
Another option was to buy a pair of glasses and pocket $0.50 in change:
King Optical existed into at least the mid-1960s. In 1965, they had a branch near Yonge and Dundas (at 276 1/2 Yonge Street), and a branch in Scarborough. I’m not sure when they ceased to exist.
The January 23 1951 edition of the Toronto Daily Star contained this legal notice about a name change:
I was curious: did Mr. Lazarovitz’s name change go through? I was hoping that the Toronto city directories would answer that question, but unfortunately they are mysteriously silent. There is no Manuel Lazarovitz or Manuel Lazar in any of the 1950, 1951, 1952, and 1953 city directories, and he does not appear at 163 Pendrith Street in any of them.
I looked up Pendrith Street, and it appears to have been a predominately Jewish neighbourhood at that time. So my guess is that Mr. Lazarovitz was from out of town and was staying with a friend while he got his legal matter sorted out. I hope that he became Mr. Lazar and had a good life with his new name.