亚洲天堂

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A chronicle of fire and resolve in early 20th century

Fire was an ever-present threat in 亚洲天堂 Lake during the early years of the twentieth century. Despite being a stone鈥檚 throw from the lake, homes and businesses in the village were often short of water.

Fire was an ever-present threat in 亚洲天堂 Lake during the early years of the twentieth century. Despite being a stone鈥檚 throw from the lake, homes and businesses in the village were often short of water. Wells dug by hand in the downtown core went dry with frustrating regularity, and what water was available only ran when someone carried it.

1922 was a particularly dry year. Wildfires destroyed vast tracks of forest, and Robert Gerow鈥檚 hotel鈥攚hich by that time had relocated from its original location on the island鈥攂urned in spectacular fashion. In May 1924, perhaps in response to these and other events, the young municipality beefed up its firefighting capacity by purchasing a seventy-gallon chemical fire engine from the Bickle Fire Company of Woodstock, Ontario. The apparatus鈥 name was a misnomer because it was hand-drawn by four men.

The town fathers were smart enough not to place all their firefighting eggs in one basket, though. By 1925, they had also purchased six buckets and several handmade ladders.

Firefighting was a skill learned on the job back then, and the local fire brigade consisted of anyone within hailing distance. One volunteer who showed up at most fires was so excitable that he once chopped a hole in the roof of a burning building and then fell through it.

The new engine got its first big test on March 18, 1925, when fire broke out downtown after a rowdy St. Patrick鈥檚 Day dance. Postmaster Jim McKenna had just gone to bed when he heard a racket outside.

McKenna emerged from his home to see people running in every direction. Some were headed toward the fire, but others with cooler heads made a beeline toward the new Bickle fire engine housed in Andy Ruddy鈥檚 barn.

The fire was well-established by the time the engine and its handlers arrived. Volunteers quickly added a mixture of sulfuric acid and sodium bicarbonate to the device鈥檚 reservoir, then pumped the caustic mixture on the flames. Late arrivals grabbed buckets and ran to Ruddy鈥檚 well, only to find it dry.

The flames danced and tossed black smoke into the night sky. The heat was so intense that a winter鈥檚 worth of snow melted around the burning buildings and ran in merry rivulets through the streets. People scooped it up in buckets and threw it on the flames. When the water ran out, they used snow from adjacent properties for fire retardant.

It wasn鈥檛 long before the buckets were so warm that snow packed into them melted en route to the fire.

The destruction continued. By the time the blaze burned itself out a few hours later, most of the buildings downtown were gone 鈥 including Gordon Wood鈥檚 drug store on First Avenue, the telegraph office, McKenna鈥檚 post office, Mickey O. Stitch鈥檚 restaurant, Aslin鈥檚 Grocery, and the Dittmer and Rob hardware store. The Royal Bank of Canada building, only a few years old, was one of the few still standing. People saved it by throwing snowballs onto the burning roof.

Though eyewitnesses claimed the first structure destroyed was the hardware store, the question of where the fire originated was hotly contested. The issue sparked a heated argument between two prominent citizens that ended in a fistfight on Main Street. People watched the conflict as the nearby ruins smouldered under a leaden sky.

The 1925 fire exposed some serious flaws in the town鈥檚 firefighting strategy. The village commissioners responded by ordering fourteen more charges of acid and soda for the fire engine. They also invested in a fire bell, which hung for decades in a prominent location near the junction of Highway 16 and Government Street. It鈥檚 now an exhibit at the Lakes District Museum.

The new gear helped limit the carnage but didn鈥檛 end it. Little more than a year later, the general store owned by Clarence E. Imeson, Marion Prentiss, and Frank Ramsden caught fire.

The Prentiss family lived on the building鈥檚 second floor. At 3:30 a.m. on July 28, 1926, Marion awoke to find his bedroom full of smoke. He ran out of the building and tried to ring the town鈥檚 new fire bell, but the pull cord broke in his hand on the first yank. So much for the early warning system.

Marion鈥檚 subsequent cries of alarm woke resident Bill McKenna, who, in turn, roused Fire Chief Andy Anderson. By the time volunteer firefighters arrived with the village鈥檚 solitary chemical engine, the C. E. Imeson building was engulfed in flames.

鈥淢om was in Seattle, and Dad saved very few personal items,鈥 Marion鈥檚 son Mack recalled years after the fire. 鈥淗e threw his violin out of the upstairs window, with very little damage. Grabbed armfuls of Mom鈥檚 clothes, [but] the skirts fell out and were burned. Mom had a lot of blouses only [after that].鈥

The store burned to the ground, taking with it all of the stock and most of the Prentiss family鈥檚 possessions. Only partially insured, it was never rebuilt.

There were other notable fires in 亚洲天堂 Lake鈥檚 first hundred years, but those are tales for another day.

(c) 2023 Michael Riis-Christianson and the Lakes District Museum Society





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