Walton Island Park, Elgin

Posted on November 5, 2024 by admin

During a cloudy but not rainy period early this afternoon — heavy rain came later — I wandered over to the polling place at the school where Lilly and Ann both spent their elementary school years and voted there. I’d considered voting early at a different location, but when I stopped by about a week ago, the line was long. So Election Day voting it is, once again. My 12th presidential election.

Assuming he voted in all of them, how many for Jimmy Carter, our centenarian president? Assuming also that he voted absentee when necessary, especially during his time in the Navy. He turned 21 on October 1, 1945, but there’s a twist: Georgia lowered its voting age to 18 in 1943, thus enfranchising the young Carter for the 1944 election.

That would be 21 presidential elections, 1944 to 2024, inclusive. Not many people get to vote in many more than that.

After visiting the Gail Borden Library in Elgin a week ago Sunday, we walked over to the banks of the Fox River, which isn’t far.

Facing the river, specifically the Kimball Street and Dam, are pioneers in bronze.

There are enough of these kinds of statues that they represents a memorial genre, I think: Doughty Pioneers. Other recent examples (for me) include Nacogdoches and Bandera, Texas, and there are ones closer to home. The Elgin pioneers, under the name “Pioneer Family Memorial” (2001), were created by Elgin artist Trygve A. Rovelstad, though cast posthumously, since he died in 1990.

He also designed the Elgin Centennial half dollar, a numismatic curiosity from 1936. It was sold to help fund Rovelstad’s pioneer memorial in Elgin, but it clearly wasn’t enough, since the thing wasn’t finished for 65 years.

A lot of commemorates were minted in 1936, such as for the Texas Centennial, Daniel Boone Bicentennial, Arkansas Centennial, Wisconsin Territorial Centennial, Long Island Tercentenary (which sounds like the 300th anniversary of it becoming an island), and coins honoring such places as Elgin, but also Cleveland, Columbia, SC, Lynchburg, Va., and York County, Maine, among others.

The Oregon Trail Memorial, Cincinnati Musical Center and the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge got halves that year, too. Whoever had an important Congressman pushing for it got one, sounds like.

The bronze pioneers are near Walton Island Park, a man-made feature in the Fox River accessible by footbridge from the east bank. Like the Elgin half dollar, it too dates from the 1930s, when the local chapter of the Izaak Walton League – an organization named for the Compleat Angler fellow that’s still around – led the effort to enlarge a mud bank in the river by dredging the bottom and using the fill.

A flag sculpture is at the north tip of the island.

Dedicated on Flag Day, 2002. With one of the busier dedication plaques I’ve seen (but not as busy as the Norwegians in America).

The rest of the park is mostly a short stroll.

With good views of either side of the Fox. Such as the west bank.

A windmill. We didn’t go over to look at it, but I looked into it later. I’ve driven the nearby road (Illinois 31) any number of times, and must have seen it, but I guess it didn’t register. When I saw it from Walton Island, I thought I was seeing it for the first time.

For some extra drama, a freight train rolled by.

“A recent multi-year project for the Elgin Area Historical Society involved relocating and restoring a long-forgotten urban windmill built in 1922 by the Elgin Wind, Power and Pump Co.,” explains the Elgin History Museum.

“On September 7, 2013 the windmill was fully restored and now stands proudly at the site of its creation in Foundry Park off Route 31 in Elgin. The park was once the site of the Elgin Windmill Company, where the windmill was originally built.”

Lords Park in Fall

Posted on November 4, 2024 by admin

As usual in early November, we’re alternating between chilly and not chilly. Daytime today was surprisingly not chilly, which inspired me to drink tea on our deck in early afternoon and ponder the late autumn-ness of the view. Many, but not all, of the leaves are down, thinning from peak coloration – about a week ago.

That bit of timing, and warmish days, inspired us to take some walks last weekend. Before we saw the Community Ofrenda at the Gail Borden Library on the last Sunday of October, we were in Lords Park in Elgin. Last time we were there, the park was flush with the greens of high summer.

Not this time.

The park has a small zoo. Last time we didn’t enter because no dogs allowed, and Payton was with us. This time it was closed for the season.

No animals to be seen, except for a buffalo at the other end of the enclosure.

Still waiting for his transport to Mobile, Alabama, where he winters. Big snowbird bison community there.

Aside:

Me: Tell me about the snowbird bison community in Mobile, Alabama.

Free version of ChatGPT: It seems there might be some confusion or a mix-up regarding the “Snowbird Bison Community” in Mobile, Alabama. As of my last update, there is no widely known or documented community by that specific name in Mobile or elsewhere. However, I can provide some possible explanations or nearby references that could be of interest.

Bison and Conservation Efforts in Alabama: While there isn’t a specific “Snowbird Bison Community,” Alabama does have conservation programs and initiatives that aim to reintroduce or protect native wildlife, including bison. Historically, bison roamed the area, but due to overhunting and habitat destruction, they were driven out of much of their former range. Some conservation projects in Alabama or nearby regions might involve bison as part of larger ecosystem restoration efforts.
Snowbirds: In a different context, the term “snowbird” often refers to people who migrate from northern states to warmer climates (like Alabama) during the colder months. It’s possible that “Snowbird Bison Community” is a colloquial or niche term for a group of people who gather in Alabama, potentially around activities like wildlife conservation or bison-related tourism.
Mobile, Alabama: Mobile is a port city on the Gulf Coast, known for its rich history and diverse culture, but it isn’t particularly known for any bison-specific community. However, Mobile could host various wildlife sanctuaries, events, or activities related to animal conservation, and a local “bison community” might be a reference to any such initiatives.

Getting better, it seems. Honestly, I was hoping for a crazy hallucination, but that’s probably harder to elicit that it used to be.

Since we couldn’t go into the zoo, we walked the path around it, which is probably more picturesque than inside the grounds, at least at that moment in October.

Then to the park’s large pond. We walked around that.

A plaque on a boulder.

Closeup because I don’t feel like transcribing. Been affixed for more than 100 years now. Note that the apostrophe has disappeared. It isn’t used on official web sites, nor Google Maps: Lords Park. Must have been the long-term impact of apostrophe rationing again.

Another aside:

Me: Tell me about the plaque in Lords Park, Elgin Illinois.

ChatGPT: The plaque in Lords Park in Elgin, Illinois, commemorates the First Presbyterian Church’s Cemetery (also known as the Lords Park Cemetery), which is located within the park. The plaque honors the historical significance of the site, which has been a key part of the Elgin community since its early settlement.

Lords Park itself is one of the oldest parks in Elgin, and its cemetery was originally established in the mid-19th century, likely around 1845. The plaque likely marks the location or provides historical context about the cemetery and the people buried there, many of whom were early settlers and important figures in the founding of the city. The cemetery and park are connected through their shared history, with the area having served as a site for both religious and community gatherings.

As of my knowledge cutoff, there isn’t a specific detailed plaque inscription that I can point to, but the general historical context ties the park, the cemetery, and the early days of Elgin’s development together. The cemetery’s location within Lords Park places it in the middle of a public space that has been used for recreation and community events over the years, which adds to the significance of the plaque as part of the area’s history.

Ah, that’s the kind of hallucinatory answer I was looking for, though I didn’t give it much to work with in the way of prompts. Or at least it’s a mangled answer, according to the half hour or so I spent looking into the question. I could be missing something, since I’m not going to dive too deep.

But as far as I can tell, Lords Park wasn’t the site of a cemetery. A early public cemetery in Elgin – opened in 1845, as it happens – was the Channing Street Cemetery. It is gone, its location occupied by a small city park and elementary school. More importantly, it wasn’t the same site as the future Lords Park. Also, while there is a First Presbyterian Church of Elgin, it is not near Lords Park, either, and doesn’t ever seem to have been.

“Channing Street Cemetery was officially closed in 1945 and removal of the remains was thought complete in 1947,” notes the Elgin Genealogical Society. “In 1949 four acres in the southeast section were leveled in anticipation of park construction. It has been said that the many bodies left were to be moved by bulldozers. Some Elgin residents who lived in the neighborhood as children can remember the bulldozers breaking up old coffins and scattering the remains.”

Unless that was kids making up lurid stories, it looks like one of those cases where bodies were supposed to be moved elsewhere, but oops. We missed a few. An interesting tale, but nothing to do with Lords Park.

Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria

Posted on November 3, 2024 by admin

A week ago Sunday we visited the main branch of the Gail Borden Public Library District, a mid-sized, newish building near the Fox River in far west suburban Elgin, Illinois. First time at that library. Quite impressive, looking like a place where people want to go, looking for some specific information, or just to see what they could see.

Inside the front entrance the space opens up into a round, which functions as a hub for the rooms that are the library’s spokes.

Prominent against a wall was the Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria.

A helpful nearby sign.

Calaveritas decorativas. That’s a good thing to know, the Spanish for the multitudes of decorative skulls in the worlds.

Details.

The faces of Día de los Muertos.

The Fine Arts Building

Posted on October 31, 2024 by admin

This year on Halloween, I found myself wondering when the apostrophe mostly disappeared from Hallowe’en, at least in U.S. usage. The charts posted at a site called Grammar Revolution (though without citation) offer some information on the question. Hallowe’en, as one might see on a card old enough to be in the public domain, was a more common spelling in the early 20th century.

Around the time of World War II, the apostrophe version started its decline, with the non-apostrophe Halloween becoming more common by far since then. That leads me to the conclusion that apostrophe rationing during WWII inadvertently had a long-term impact. History is funny that way.

The last few days of October this year have been unusually pleasant. On Tuesday the 29th, for instance, I was able to dine al fresco in the afternoon quite comfortably. Yesterday, the 30th, it was still warm enough to sit on our deck in the evening in short sleeves, though the wind was up.

Halloween itself, following rain in the morning, was still windy, but a lot colder. That didn’t deter exactly 30 kids who came to our door for candy – about three-quarters of them before dark. We gave away full-sized Hershey products, which pleased the older kids especially, along with small bags of Utz pretzels, which no one commented on. I didn’t wear a costume for distribution, but I did put on my fez. It was a Christmas present from Jay some years ago, but there are sadly few occasions to wear it. I’d say Halloween or even Hallowe’en is one such.

Back on the October 19 (it was warm then, too), we spent at least an hour getting into, and wandering around, the Fine Arts Building at 410 S. Michigan Ave. Here it is, blocking the sun.

Like most vintage buildings, it began as something else: a factory and a showroom for Studebaker, when that company made carriages. The architect who designed it in 1885, Solon Beman (who did the Pullman company town too, among other things), did a redesign in 1898 when Studebaker left, thus creating a rather unusual office building. Since then, the Fine Arts Building has been just that, home to art galleries and artist studios, theater companies, publishers, dance and recording studios, musicians and musical instrument specialists, interior designers, and other arts-associated businesses.

For Open House Chicago, you can wander its long halls.

The current tenant directory makes for interesting reading, much more than almost any other office building: designers such as Doorways of Chicago; artists such as L.H. Selman, Ltd., Fine Glass Paperweights; performers such as the Chicago International Puppet Theater Festival; very specialized music shops such as Parke Mouthpiece Center, offering “professional brass mouthpieces for trumpet, trombone, horn, & tuba. Interchangeable rims, cups, backbores, tops, & underparts.”

Some of the businesses were open for the event.

The Fine Arts Building is of course going to feature art on its walls.

Plus a lot of fine old details, such as for the manually operated elevators – the only ones in Chicago, I’m told.

Can’t forget the mail chute.

That was it for Open House Chicago this year. Still as fine an event as ever, except for one thing: no paper guides and their useful area maps provided to eventgoers, which disappeared when the event was revived in 2021. Sure, they cost money to produce, but I seem to remember advertisements in them that might have offset costs somewhat, or maybe entirely. Just another small step on the road to further map illiteracy.

Next year, Open House New York? We shall see.

Jackson Boulevard Stroll, Starring Monadnock & Rothschild

Posted on October 30, 2024 by admin

Not far east of the Chicago Board of Trade at 53 W. Jackson Blvd. is the hulking brown-brick Monadnock Building, one of the great old skyscrapers of Chicago. We passed by on the way to Michigan Ave. during our Open House peregrination. It wasn’t open for the event, but no matter. We’d both been inside, even taken a tour once upon a time.

I also knew a fellow who worked for a nonprofit for a while in the ’90s whose office was in the Monadnock. He said he considered going to work there every day a fringe benefit.

“The northern half has always been the subject of attention and wonder,” the AIA Guide to Chicago says, regarding the Monadnock, which is actually two structures fused into a whole: a load-bearing northern half designed by Burnham and Root (1891), and a steel-framework southern half by Holabird & Roche (1893).

“It was constructed as a thick walled brick tower, 66 feet wide, 200 feet long and 200 feet high,” the AIA Guide continues. “The American Architect in 1892 described it as a chimney. Two cross walls divide the interior space into three, flu like cavities, the centers of which are open from street to roof. A freestanding staircase spirals down from the brilliance of the sky lit 16th floor to the dark lobby cut lengthwise through the ground floor. Around this open stairwell, a light structural grid sustains stacks of rental floors. From these extend the modular alcoves pushing through the facade become bay windows.”

The late 19th century was a time of transition for tall buildings, with the Home Insurance Building in Chicago showing the way as the first building its height (10 stories) to use a weight-bearing structural steel frame to support itself. That building, on West Adams, was a mere diagonal block and a half away the Monadnock. Home Insurance is long gone; but the Monadnock stands. Or maybe I should say, abides.

Further eastward — the direction we were going that day — at Jackson and State is the DePaul Center, originally (1912) the A. M. Rothschild & Company Store, by Holabird & Roche (them again).

At the turn of the 20th century, A. M. Rothschild & Co. was a department store rivaling Marshall Field on State Street in Chicago, founded by a German immigrant of that name who also married into one of the richest families in Chicago, the meatpacking Morrises. Abram M. Rothschild didn’t live to see the 1912 building, however. By 1902, his in-laws, who controlled the store, had forced him to retire due to financial problems at the retailer, though he was kept on as a figurehead.

“July 28, 1902 started out like any other day for A.M. Rothschild,” explains chicago.designslinger. “The recently retired 49-year-old retailer visited the sixth floor office of his namesake department store in downtown Chicago that morning, and after a few hours left for home accompanied by his son 16-year-old son Melville. Rothschild’s wife Gusta greeted both of them in the front hall of the family’s large house on Michigan Avenue at 37th Street, and Abram Rothschild headed upstairs to freshen up. He went into his bedroom, retrieved his revolver, went into the bathroom, and shot himself in the head.”

Later, after spending a decade or so putting together the land for it, the Morris family hired Holabird & Roche for a new, 11-story retail building that eventually became the building you can see now, which belongs to DePaul University. Back in 1912, a department store could conceivably use such a building. Hard to imagine now.

“The architectural firm had a number of projects along the State Street corridor, but A.M. Rothschild & Co. would be their largest,” chicago.designslinger notes. “And although the family had a troubled history with the founder, they paid lasting tribute to him by having the architects incorporate the letter ‘R’ into the massive cream-colored, terra cotta facade which was repeated down the entire length of the building.”

As they are to this day, though since I only took an image of (mostly) the Jackson Blvd. elevation, the letters aren’t much visible. The building deserved a closer look, but we were operating on the lunch imperative as we wandered by, more focused on finding victuals. Maybe some other time. No matter how often I go downtown, something there is always worth another look.

The Wintrust Building & The Grand Banking Hall

Posted on October 30, 2024 by admin

I don’t know that much about Wintrust Financial, which is a bank holding company that specializes in community banks and has about $63 billion in assets. But I understand that when Wintrust acquires a community bank, which are by necessity locally oriented, the company does not slap the name Wintrust on it, thus sacrificing that local identity on the altar of branding – one of the idols worshiped by corporate America, but not apparently the bank.

I’m not suggesting that brands have no value. Clearly they do. But there are examples of consumer-facing companies gone national that have paved over long established and well-regarded local names.

The consolidation of the department store industry comes to mind. Somehow Macy’s persuaded itself that Chicagoans would respond to their name (which is a New York name) better than Marshall Field, as storied a local store as Chicago has ever had. There are a number of reasons the department store biz is a shadow of its former self, but that kind of thinking is surely one of them.

On the other hand, Wintrust has put its name on 231 S. LaSalle St., which is right at the T intersection with Jackson Blvd., across from the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago.

That’s a better use of a brand, I believe. The building was developed as the Illinois Merchants Bank Building exactly 100 years ago, with a grand design by Graham, Anderson & Probst, which is in the top ranks of name architects from the early 20th century. Since then, the building has been named for a succession of banks, making Wintrust merely the latest in an established pattern. Besides – who gives a fig about Illinois Merchants Bank or any of the others any more anyway?

Wintrust participated in Open House Chicago this year. The grandly named Grand Banking Hall was up a golden escalator.

Grand, all right.

Add a statue of Jupiter Optimus Maximus and take away electricity and you’ve got a Roman temple. Not just any temple, but one of the (that word again) grandest at which the likes of Caesar might have made offerings.

Notes the AIA Guide to Chicago (2004): “[The space] prompted Louis H. Sullivan to suggest that bankers here wear togas and speak Latin” (p. 78). I didn’t know the great Chicago architect Sullivan had a sense of humor, but it seems he did. The bankers shouldn’t take acting Roman too far, however, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to use zeroes.

Wintrust moved in after the building was restored in the mid-2010s. The bank uses the space for retail purposes. That’s pretty cool for a bank. Beats leaving it vacant.

The bank also rents the space for events. But not (according to the bank web site) for:

Weddings
Casino nights
Gambling

Public events
Political fundraisers
Religious ceremonies

Extremist group gatherings
Restaurant expos

Below the Grand Hall is a whopping bank vault. Among Chicago Open House visitors, it was a hit.

The main attraction is the door.

The vault itself, unlike the one under the Chicago Board of Trade, wasn’t open. Instead a bit of artwork covering the door depicted the rows of lock boxes inside. What’s going on in there? Time Tunnel experiments after hours at the bank?

A digression: A gritty reboot (is there any other kind?) of The Time Tunnel could be an exceptional show. What about it, Ronald D. Moore? You’re a little younger than me. That and Space: 1999 are waiting for you.

One more detail.

Time, the bank might agree, is money.

The Chicago Board of Trade Building

Posted on October 28, 2024 by admin

Stroll down Jackson Blvd. in the Chicago Loop and you’ll come across that deco masterpiece, the Chicago Board of Trade Building, 141 W. Jackson. With Ceres atop, put there by designers who knew their ancient lore. Wish it was easier to get a close look at her.

As mentioned, the place was crowded with Open House Chicago attendees, as seen in the magnificent lobby.

In one way, that was good. There was more time to eye the details. In this building, the deco is in the details.

No mail passes through these boxes any more, which is too bad. Back when I had an office in 35 E. Wacker, one of the pleasures of being in the building was passing through the lobby when I had something to mail, and slipping it into the imposing, ornate box, whose very presence announced: This Is The U.S. Mail. By the ’90s, a thing diminished, but not yet relegated to a has-been.

In the basement is the building vault, formerly used to store valuable commodities. The vault door is impressively massive.

Inside, an array of smaller boxes. Empty now.

Room enough for an upscale bar, I think.

The trading floor. Not busy on a Saturday.

Hardly looking the way Stanley Kubrick saw it in 1949, when he took this picture for Look magazine (reportedly in the public domain these days).

Those guys look like they might have traded a few pork bellies in their time.

Open House Chicago ’24

Posted on October 27, 2024 by admin

Open House, which in some places is Doors Open, is a wonderful event. The concept is simple: at designated places around town, you can go in and look around during specified hours on a particular weekend for no charge. I’ve been attending Chicago’s most years since 2013.

More American cities ought to do it. Worldwide, almost 60 cities do so under the Open House banner, with only four U.S. cities participating: Chicago, Miami, New York, and San Diego. Others are Doors Open: Baltimore, Buffalo, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Pittsburgh, and the state of Rhode Island, which is only a little larger than a metropolitan area. Note the many missing from both lists, such as Atlanta, Boston, Dallas, Denver, Los Angeles, Nashville, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Seattle – and I could add more among large and mid-sized cities.

We were thinking of visiting New York this year for its event, which was a week ago, but ultimately decided on the Bruce Peninsula for our October trip. Maybe next year. As it happened, Chicago was the same weekend as New York, October 19 and 20, and since we were back from Canada by then, we went ahead with another Chicago Open House.

We focused on downtown this year, mostly because I didn’t feel like driving to any other neighborhood, and Metra takes you right to Union Station. Steps away – as real estate listings tend to put it – is the Sears Tower (I’m not calling it anything else). The blue wavy feature is fairly new.

The ground level of the tower has been redeveloped since the last time I was there, adding a large food hall. Do-Rite Donuts & Chicken looked really tempting, but no. Some other time.

The open part of the Sears Tower for Open House Chicago was the Metropolitan Club, up on the 67th floor. I’d been there before a couple of times, for business lunches in the early 2000s.

Nice views, but no one was giving away views from the Skydeck up on the 103th floor. Tickets to that are timed, and sell for $32 or more, a fact that irritates me. I remember visiting in 1987 for $3.50, which is the equivalent of a little less than $10 now. Sure, there’s now a glass box jutting out that stands between you and eternity when admire the vista from that perch. Add a few dollars for that, but that isn’t enough to justify the gouge.

Never mind, we also visited the Chicago Board of Trade Building and the Wintrust Bank Building, both near the intersection of Jackson and LaSalle, as we made our way eastward. Both are marvels of design and familiar — but you can always see something new. After lunch we spent a good long time at the Fine Arts Building on Michigan Ave. Also familiar, but so many details to engage your attention, if you let it. All 10 floors were open, and we rode the manually operated elevator up to the 10th floor and made our way down the stairs.

That was it. Fewer places than in most years because, it seems, word of Open House Chicago has finally gotten around, and each place we visited had a line to get in. So did Symphony Center, which we didn’t want to wait for. If I remember right in 2013, that wasn’t the case, when everyone I mentioned the event to had never heard of it, and you could walk right in each sight.

The Port Huron Blog Post

Posted on October 24, 2024 by admin

Every time I visit Ontario, or at least a beach in that province, I scratch a message in the sand for Geof Huth, and promptly send it to him electronically. This time it was from the sandy beach at Bruce Peninsula NP. Why? Why not?

My knowledge of the New Left is fairly sketchy, I must admit. As long ago as my own student days, in the early 1980s, it didn’t seem new, but old hat. I’ve never even read more than a few paragraphs of the Port Huron Statement, though I could get around to it, since it’s easy enough to find. Such a tract doesn’t need to be mimeographed to reach an audience anymore.

At least I’d heard of it when the Dude mentioned his connection to it. As I understand it, there was no second draft, compromised or otherwise. But the Dude inhabits the Coen Brothers universe, where surely there was one.

As for my knowledge of the actual city of Port Huron, Michigan, that’s a little better than it used to be, informed by a short visit on the way home from Ontario earlier this month. It’s one of those places I stopped because I’d never been there, but had long seen it on maps. There’s an endless supply of places like that.

Downtown, especially Huron Ave., made for a pleasant walkabout.

Huron Ave. crosses the Black River – one of a number of rivers called that in Michigan alone – at a drawbridge, just before the river flows into the St. Clair. As we wandered along the riverfront, bells went off.

When you see a drawbridge in motion, watch it if you can. Again and again. Just another of the little maxims I live by.

There are hints that hipsters have discovered Port Huron. Maybe a scattering of them who have been priced out of Ann Arbor.

We spent some time in a sizable, multi-room antique shop on Huron Ave. Not quite as entropic as Reid’s Corner, but nevertheless stocked with all sorts of interesting stuff, including vinyl records (more evidence of hipsters about).

The First Family was first in a bin, offered for only $2. I didn’t buy it. I have a copy that my brother Jay gave me, and he said that he paid about 80 cents for it. I’m glad to have it around, though we have no record player any more. It functions as a reminder about eggs and baskets.

Two dollars might have been the nominal price in 1962, or a dollar or so more. As a collectible, First Family hasn’t even kept up with its original price in inflation-adjusted terms (nearly $21 now), though if you look at eBay or the like, people are trying to get ridiculous prices for the album. The supply of disks is vast, with 7.5 million units reportedly sold before the president’s death.

1962. The same year that the Port Huron Statement was published. Is it a mere coincidence that I saw this record in Port Huron, or is the universe trying to tell me something? I’ll go with mere coincidence.

London Town

Posted on October 23, 2024 by admin

Things you can do in London: walk along the Thames; visit Covent Garden; and see St. Paul’s Cathedral. We did all of those things in the original London, once upon a time.

Earlier this month, we managed two out of three in London, Ontario. The cathedral was closed. Some other time, maybe, since you can drive from metro Chicago to the Canadian London in about six hours, provided traffic snarls on the highways just south of Lake Michigan aren’t any worse than usual and you don’t encounter a testy Canadian border guard, as I did on Canada Day all those years ago, for the most thorough border-crossing inspection I ever received, before or since.

The Thames as it passes through downtown London. The banks are mostly parkland.

Actually, that point is the meeting of the North Thames and the Thames, locally known as the Folks. The river is called as La Tranche in French and Deshkaan-ziibi in Ojibwe, Antler River.

The King Street pedestrian bridge connecting the banks.

Near the Folks is the HMCS-NCSM Prevost, flying these colors – the Canadian Naval Ensign, if I understand correctly.

All that is a fair amount to unpack: the ensign is flying on land because the Prevost is a stone frigate, a naval facility on land. HMCS is His Majesty’s Canadian Ship, of course, but this being Canada, it is also NCSM, Navire canadien de Sa Majesté. The site is a training and recruiting center for the Canadian Navy, and also home to the Battle of the Atlantic Memorial. Another sign is in French, but I only made a picture of the English.

The memorial is still under construction, according to the London Free Press, and it looked like it, with memorial stones being put into place on a small slope. Dedication will be next May, on the 80th anniversary of the end of that battle, which lasted until the Germans surrendered.

I decided to look up one of the ships memorialized: the HMCS Valleyfield.

Commissioned in December 1943. Torpedoed and sunk May 7, 1944, with the loss of 125 Canadian sailors in the gelid North Atlantic.

After the riverside, we took a short walk through downtown, especially Dundas St.

An unexpected mural on that street.

“Johnny and June” by Kevin Ledo, a Montreal artist, and completed only in 2023. (If you want to see a large Ledo mural depicting a young Alex Trebec, go to Sudbury, Ontario.)

The mural, on the side of London’s Budweiser Gardens sports-event venue, is impressively large, at 45 feet tall and 20 feet wide. Larger than life, certainly. A nearby sign says it commemorates the moment on February 22, 1968, when Johnny Cash proposed to June Carter on stage during a concert in London.

As for Covent Garden, that’s where we had lunch. Site of a public market since 1845, though I expect things have been cleaned up some since then.

Not quite as grand as the one in the larger London, but well worth the stroll to look at the shops, and find an eatery. We ate at a Brazilian place. Don’t see too many of those in food halls. Most satisfying.

Lots of goods. Is there a Canadian content requirement?

A few more London details, near Covent Garden. We didn’t see on foot the part of town I found more intriguing, which we drove through: the area around Western University (a.k.a., University of Western Ontario, enrollment more than 40,000). Might be a good place to look around if we ever take that trip to the Stratford Festival, which is practically down the road from London.

I have to like a place with a name like that.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling