One of his three daughters stood at the memorial to Bob Shepherd last Saturday. As many did that afternoon, Lynda Sauder fought back the emotions of losing her father to cancer on Oct. 23. She remembered growing up in a loving household, one that shared a passion for running, camping and plenty of debate around the dinner table.
“There’s a book in my father’s story,” she said. “And we’ve already started writing it.” (more…)
It was like that 1981 movie, “Cannonball Run,” in which a bunch of fast-car addicts get a telephone call and immediately drop what they’re doing to join a cross-country auto race. Well, even if you don’t know the movie, suffice to say a couple of Saturdays ago I got a phone call from one of my hockey pals to assemble a work party.
“My house,” Mike MacDonald texted, “about 10 a.m.”
When I first arrived at Mike’s place, just after 10, nobody was there. But within seconds several of Mike’s neighbours, Kirk Buchanan, Scott Clayworth, Jamie Steele and Jim Sproxton emerged from their homes and converged on Mike’s garage. In seconds, they’d rolled up the door and were rifling through a pile of wood in the garage. Since this was my first time, I just offered to assist. (more…)
During the time it took for her nephew to grow from a child of three to an adult – some 35 years – Gerry Oldham has taken the younger members of her family to the parkette on King Street in the town where I live.
As parks go, it’s always been a pretty modest space. But in its lifetime, the parkette’s simple playground swings, teeter-totter and slide have always provided enough green space for Gerry, her kids and now her grandchildren. This week, at Township Council, she showed councillors a framed photo of her family and passed along their fears.
“Don’t let them sell Grandma’s park,” she repeated to the chamber.
The park, for over an hour the other night, captured the community leaders’ attention. It appears that Township Council is considering whether the space – about the size of a narrow vacant lot – might serve a better purpose if rezoned as a space for potential development as a residence instead of a parkette. Well, when Gerry Oldham and a number of her neighbours learned about the idea they showed up, some 40 or 50 strong, to dissuade councillors from that notion.
Part of the parkette’s problem, however, is that it’s small. Only .084 hectares (not even a third of an acre). It’s also not a high priority. Bob Ferguson, township facilities manager (and the nephew whom Gerry remembers being three when she first encountered the parkette) described the space as a “low-use” park. That means it’s one of a handful of parks in town that while functional, doesn’t rate the greater attention that parks containing splash pads, baseball diamonds or soccer pitches do.
It also suffers from an identity problem. It should have had a name, but doesn’t. In a letter to the council, retired Uxbridge Museum and Archives curator Allan McGillivray explained that the lot had sat dormant for years. It was low and wet and until a developer donated the land to the township, pretty much overlooked.
“The Optimist Club brought in fill and leveled the area,” historian McGillivray explained. “They installed swings, teeter-totters and slides … donated in 1970 in the memory of Donald Cowieson, the second president of the Optimist Club.”
Allan McGillivray added there was even a photo in the local newspaper of a local realtor making the presentation to then Mayor Fred Steward. But beyond that, the King Street Parkette kind of disappeared.
“Shouldn’t there have been a plaque?” Gerry Oldham asked.
But in addition to its identity problem, the King Street Parkette kind of languished. Never big enough to enjoy the upgrades and makeovers that higher profile parks demand and yet never an inconvenience to planners or budgeters (it costs less that $1,000 each year), the lot has simply required periodic attention for grass cutting, garbage removal and (when it fell below safety standards) the removal of the playground slide equipment.
And while the township has always viewed it as “low use,” it has never suffered from no use. And the parkette’s neighbours were quick to remind Council of that on Monday night.
Former councillor Susan Self said she wasn’t happy about the trash too often left behind in the parkette or the vandalism. But “when we sit in our kitchen, we can easily see how important the park is to the children of our neighbours. We know it’s used extensively.”
Another speaker pointed out that while the rest of the town has its larger parks, residents near the King Street Parkette used its space to enjoy quality time with their families, build community spirit and encourage a healthy lifestyle for their children. “There’s the big park,” she said, “and then there’s our park.”
Gerry Oldham isn’t just a tree-hugger. She’s done her homework. When presenting her case Monday night, she noted that the township’s notice in the mail to consider rezoning of the park across her back fence referred to the it as “a former parkette.”
“Is the decision already made?” she asked. “An upgrade should be considered. Not a sale. It’s a bad precedent to be selling parkland.”
To be fair, township officials haven’t tossed the King Street Parkette to the scrap heap yet. Coun. Jacob Mantle insisted that the exercise of reviewing the parkette’s condition, status and value is not a cash grab. In fact, he noted the township’s laudable record of preserving greenbelt lands, while supporting sustained development of skate parks and splash pads as “destination parks.”
Susan Fumerton was among the last to plea on the parkette’s behalf in front of Council. She applauded the park for its service in providing a sanctuary at different times for her four children and her two grandchildren. But because the parkette had also introduced her to her neighbours, Susan added that, “the park has also brought me my best friend, Gerry Oldham.”
So while the King Street Parkette may be a park without an official name and a tenuous future, it has served generations of neighbours well.
One spring weekend in 1967, I managed to convince several of my friends to accompany me to the family’s property in the country. The weather forecast promised to be sunny and warm. My mom promised some of her renowned Greek cuisine. My dad said he’d allow us a few beers at the end of the work day.
“Work day?” one of my friends, Michael Clancy, wondered.
“Yeah, just a bit of planting,” I said, “about two thousand evergreen trees.”