For its modest size, the Meaford Museum boasts a remarkable collection, and next week, you can learn how it acquires and manages these remnants and reminders of historical Meaford. The Meaford Library hosts a talk by Museum Curator Pam Woolner next Tuesday at 2 p.m.

Pam will discuss how the museum sources and acquires artifacts for the museum; how staff researches and catalogues the artifacts, and the challenges such a small museum faces in taking care of a growing and changing collection.

Space is limited, so call or email to register soon. (It’s free.) 519.538.1060 (ext 1123) or email lori@meafordlibrary.on.ca.

If this talk interests you, you may also be interested in volunteering at the Museum. It’s a great way to get involved in the community, and the historical insight you gain through spending time there will give you a real sense of this beautiful small town – not to mention arming you with a bunch of cocktail party conversation starters.

Just don’t worry about the ghost of the museum.

On a winter evening in 1897, a 38-year-old Hamilton, Ontario woman named Adelaide Hoodless gathered her skirts and rose to take the lectern at the Farmer’s Institute Ladies Night meeting in nearby Stoney Creek. An emissary of the Ministry of Education, she spoke on “Domestic Science” and the importance of proper hygiene at a time when many rural families lived not exceedingly differently from their pioneer forebears. She was passionate about the topic. Eight years earlier, her 14-month old son, John, died from what folks called “summer complaint” – probably from drinking unpasteurized milk in the days when refrigeration during the summer months was difficult. In the years since, she had worked to establish domestic science education and taught classes in it – in an effort to provide better education for new mothers.

Adelaide Hunter Hoodless

That February night in Stoney Creek, Adelaide suggested that rural women should form a group devoted to broadening knowledge of domestic science and agriculture – as well as to provide an outlet for socializing. A week later, she returned to discover 101 women in attendance. A week after that, Adelaide presided over the first formal meeting of the Women’s Institute as honourary president.

Today, Women’s Institutes have spread around the world, and are particularly prominent in Britain, where they emerged in 1915 to revitalize rural communities and to encourage women to become more involved in producing food during the First World War.

What does this tale have to do with our lovely town of Meaford, Ontario? Well, Meaford had its own WI, begun in 1902 and since disbanded, but the local St. Vincent WI has thrived since 1918. Your blogger recalls reading minutes of WI meetings in the Meaford Express 20 years ago, and thinking it a quaint, rural tradition – which was later reinforced by the portrayal of the stodgy WI members in the 2003 film Calendar Girls.

It turns out there’s more to the Women’s Institute than that.

In addition to action and advocacy on a variety of social issues over the decades, WIs provide a unique link to our past.

This week, at a local meeting of Heritage Meaford, Meri-Diane Carroll introduced the group to the Tweedsmuir Community History Books (or Tweedsmuirs). These painstakingly recorded histories of local communities are kept in many communities, and usually include the history of the

• Local Women’s Institute Branch
• Earliest settlers in an area
• Agricultural practices and individual farms
• Industries that formed the basis of the local economy
• Social institutions and public buildings, such as churches, schools and community centers
• Local personalities, such as war veterans
• And more!

Meaford and St. Vincent are fortunate to have this record, kept by the local WI in hand-written volumes over many years.

To learn more about the St. Vincent WI, contact Shirley Moore at 519.538.1671.

Meaford, snug at the mouth of the Bighead River on Georgian Bay, lies in a valley surrounded by rolling hills and the heights of the Niagara Escarpment. You don’t need to go very far to find yourself forests, fields and wooded trails. A two-minute stroll from downtown has you at the trailhead of the Trout Hollow Trail, and another couple of minutes down the trail, you’d think you’re far from town. But you don’t even need to go that far to find a beautiful greenspace. Before taking the trail, turn around and cross the street to the entrance of Beautiful Joe Park.

This emerald jewel cradled on one side by the sweep of the river, nestled in a hollow below the streets of town, is named for the Meaford mutt made famous in the worldwide bestseller that bears his name. Sixty-nine years after Beautiful Joe, by Margaret Marshall Saunders, was published, in 1894, Meaford Mayor Frank Garvey and his wife, Judy, were walking the woods across the Bighead from their Cook Street home, and they came across an old marker near the banks of the river and below the home where the real Joe had been nursed back to health and a long life by the Moore family. They’d found Beautiful Joe’s grave.

Beautiful Joe – The Meaford Edition

The couple worked hard to establish Beautiful Joe Park on the wooded site, and today, the Beautiful Joe Heritage Society (BJHS) continues the work.

Tomorrow, the BJHS welcomes visitors to the sixth annual Beautiful Joe’s Autumn Adventure. It’s an opportunity for people to learn more about the famous book, its author, the park, heroic canines, and more.

The family event features an interactive science tent, a fairy tale scavenger hunt with prizes for all, horse-drawn wagon rides by Ritchie’s Clydesdales, pet portraits by Wendy Webb Photography, and a number of vendors selling pet treats, toys and accessories; gifts and other items; and food for all. There’ll also be a plaque dedication ceremony and a “Blessing of the Animals” by Padre Major Michael Allen.

Padre Major Michael Allen blesses the animals at Beautiful Joe’s Autumn Adventure

Ritchie’s Clydesdales take you on an old fashioned wagon ride at Beautiful Joe’s Autumn Adventure

Admission’s by donation to the society; just head down to the park tomorrow between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m.

Footsteps on the floorboards of the upper room when no one was there. An inexplicable chill that moved around the room on the hottest of summer days. Objects mysteriously moved by an unseen hand. And visitors who sensed a ghostly feminine presence in an upstairs room.

These manifestations had long led people to believe the ghost of a young woman haunted the second floor of the Meaford Museum. But clues to her identity were as evanescent as her presence.

When a gentleman claimed to have spoken to the ghost for hours, Curator Pam Woolner was too shocked to press him for details that might have contained hints about her identity.

She seemed to have a special affinity for an antique rope bed, an old cradle, and a child’s doll. But none of the items were connected; indeed, they came from different families and different eras.

But the items suggested the ghost was perhaps the spirit of a young mother who had died in childbirth – a common enough occurrence in the 1800s. The bed and cradle had come from two old Meaford families, the Sings and the Whitelaws, so perhaps there was a clue hiding in the families’ histories.

Pam searched through the Whitelaw history, and was unable to find a female who had died in her late teens or early 20s. Clues in the Sing family history proved similarly absent. “I got stumped,” says Pam.

Then a volunteer at the museum said she’d had an impression that the woman wasn’t a member of the family; her name was Louise, and she was a governess for the Sing family who’d actually died of an illness in the old roll bed.

Pam returned to the records for the 1880s and found a tantalizing clue. One year’s census showed a young woman named Louisa, of the right age, living with the Sings as a servant – though her position wasn’t specified. The next year, she was no longer listed. And around the same time, a child of two in the family had died of an illness.

Swarthmore Hall was the home of the Sing family of Meaford

Pam admits the evidence is sketchy. “There’s any number of reasons she disappeared. She could have married. She could have moved. Unfortunately, we can’t find any more information on her. I have no way of tracing it or proving it.”

She also points out that it would have been unusual for a servant to have used such a nice, large bed. “On the other hand, if she had been quite close to the family, they may have felt that nursing her in that bed would have been more humane than in the small cot she would have had,” she says.

Pam never felt afraid of the ghost, but she’d been irritated by the way she moved objects and by her other games. She’d begun giving the spirit a piece of her mind. “I started to talk to her. I was hoping that she’d stop some of her antics, and it seemed to work.”

Things seemed to quiet down. During the 2003 renovation, the significant artifacts were put in storage, and currently none are on display. “The bed had been up for 20 to 30 years, and they had stuffed the mattress with straw,” says Pam. “Unfortunately, that made great nesting grounds, and we had things living in it, so we decided to take it down. And the cradle hasn’t been that relevant to exhibits lately.”

Accessibility requirements meant the upstairs room could no longer be used for exhibit space or even office space, so fewer people climbed the narrow stairway. And with the museum’s renovation, the floor was firmed up, making noises from above barely noticeable in the rooms below.

Has the ghost departed?

“I’d originally thought maybe she had moved out,” says Pam. “But we’ve had some people who claim to be sensitive who’ve been upstairs in the last year or so who have felt her presence. The lady who gave us her name said that she’s not as active now because she’s quite happy with her new home and how it looks. So she doesn’t feel the need to do things.”

Visit the Meaford Museum

The upstairs exhibit room beneath the gables of the hundred-year-old building gathers the heat on a summer day. And with no table or desk to work at, the young volunteer prefers to lie on the floor, the text panels she’s preparing spread in front of her, pencils and pens close at hand. A 14-year-old with a passion for history, Pam loves her summer volunteer job at the Meaford Museum, and she’s soon lost in her work.

She reaches for the blue marker to underline a title, but it’s gone. Of course! She knows it hasn’t simply rolled off or been accidentally kicked to the side. She’ll have better luck looking around a corner or underneath one of the exhibits – a place the marker would have no place being on its own. She prowls the room with some irritation, lifting items and peering behind furniture, until she locates the missing pen behind the wooden rocker of the old baby cradle. The ghost has been at it again!

Pam Woolner first heard about the ghost of the Meaford Museum in 1994, from the curator who hired her on in her first volunteer position. Today, Pam is herself the museum’s curator, and the ensuing 18 years have left her with a host of stories of the woman who walks the upstairs room.

“It used to sound like someone with boots on,” says Pam. “She got a big kick out of walking around, because I think she knew we could hear her footsteps downstairs.”

Before the renovation of the museum in 2003, the building – which was built to house the town’s pump house in 1895 – had not been much modified. Dark rooms crowded with antique curios led visitors to a winding narrow stairway up to the small exhibit room under the eaves. Former museum curator Fred MacDonnell once called the building a “dark, dank hole”.

The upstairs flooring was the original wood, and the thumps and creaks it gave off when someone (or something) crossed it told of their passing.

With no insulation, the upper room trapped summer heat, and Pam says it could regularly reach 120 degrees F. So the presence of the spirit was that much more noticeable. “That particular space would get hot very quickly,” says Pam, “But it wasn’t unusual to be walking around and all of a sudden have the temperature plummet 15 degrees in a spot maybe 2 feet square.”

Visitors would comment on “the cold spot”.

“There was no rational reason for it,” says Pam. “And it would move around; it was never in the same spot. Sensitive people would mention it and ask if we had a ghost.”

Her actions, and the ghost was a “she” as far as everyone was concerned, seemed centered around three artifacts in the upstairs exhibit: a century-old rope bed, an antique cradle, and a child’s doll. “She didn’t like it when we changed the way they were set up or put different things in them,” says Pam. “She would let us know she wasn’t too impressed.”

A few years back, a Meaford woman asked Pam if she’d come across some items her family had donated years before. Pam discovered a few pieces of weaving that fit the description, and tucked them in the cradle. When the woman arrived the next day to see the items, they were nowhere to be found. “She decided to move them on me,” says Pam with a sigh. “She made me look like a complete idiot in front of the lady who’d come in.”

It was months before the items surfaced – on a shelf in the attic behind a locked door. To this day, no one who would have had access to the key has admitted to moving them.

Another time, the morning after setting up a display case of men’s grooming supplies in the upstairs room, staff discovered it had been completely rearranged. “It looked better,” says Pam. “We left it that way.”

Even as a teen, when Pam had to crawl around looking for pencils that had mysteriously disappeared, she never felt afraid of the spirit. “She isn’t malevolent. I’ve never felt threatened by her or scared by her,” she says. “I’ve been frustrated by her jokes, irritated, duped by thinking there was someone walking around upstairs, but I’ve never had any fear.”

The gentleman climbs the narrow stairway heavily, and soon he can be heard moving around upstairs as he examines the exhibit. Pam has a lot of work to do, and visitors pop in throughout the day, so the shadows have grown long before she notices that the upstairs visitor hasn’t yet come down. Nearly three hours have passed, and the exhibit is small. She realizes suddenly that she hasn’t heard his footsteps in some time. He was somewhat heavyset, she remembers, and a tingle of worry crosses her spine. What if he’s fallen over, or had a heart attack, even? It’s only when she heads for the stairs to check that she hears the man descending.

“He told me he’d talked to her for quite an extensive period of time,” says Pam. But, taken aback by the idea that the spirit had actually spoken, she didn’t press the man for details. “I remember asking what she looked like, but I was a little too shocked to ask exactly what they talked about. I wish I had now.”

So who is the ghostly figure who haunts the Meaford Museum? Some have suggested her story lies in a tragic past. More on that in Part 2.

The Georgian Trail is a great way to take a leisurely cycling trip from Meaford to Collingwood, with stops along the way (It’s also popular for strolls, walking the dog, or cross-country skiing and snow shoeing in winter.)

Fall colours on the Georgian Trail (from www.meaford.com)

Starting in Meaford at the bridge by the harbour, ride the trail through Meaford, past homes and the Knights of Meaford hardwood factory. Then it’s an easy grade (trains couldn’t handle too steep a hill), out of time between stands of trees. At the first road crossing as you leave town, you could venture off the trail for a quick look at the beautiful 1860s home known as Swarthmore Farm, built by Cyrus Richmond Sing, who was Reeve of St. Vincent Council at the time the rail line was built, and served as a Director of the North Grey Railway Company. Down an adjacent tree-shaded road lies Meaford’s scenic Lakeview Cemetery.

Back on the trail, you’ll parallel the highway, with opportunities to detour for refreshments at Grandma Lambe’s or Almond’s Fruit Stand. As you enter a small section of County Forest, you’ll pass over the steep banks of Workman’s Creek, named for Captain Workman, a pioneer who settled with his family at its mouth in the 1800s, followed soon thereafter by a gate which leads to the site of an old brick factory high atop Meaford’s clay banks (private property today).

Some seven kilometres into your ride, you’ll cross Christie Beach Road. If you’d like a dip in the waters of Georgian Bay at this sandy beach, cruise down the hill and jump in. Remember, you need to climb back up the hill when you’re done!

A couple more kilometres brings you to a sharp left in the trail. This detour was created during the construction of Lora Bay, an exceptional golf club and residential community with dramatic views of Georgian Bay. A stop at the Clubhouse might be in order to wet your whistle. But if you don’t stop here, Thornbury is a mere four kilometres down the trail, with numerous restaurants (and at least two ice cream vendors right near the trail.) On the way, you’ll pass the impressive 15th tee on your left, a par three to a green sitting 200 feet below, with a beautiful view of the sweep of Georgian Bay cradled in the trees.

After winding through Thornbury, you’ll emerge at a highway crossing. Cross carefully and continue on, or ride along the highway for a short bit to visit Peasemarsh, a secluded public beach. The trail continues past Georgian Peaks and past Craigleith Provincial Park, a small camping park on the shore, and Northwinds Beach, reputed to be one of the birthplaces of windsurfing.

Soon after, you’ll cross Blue Mountain Road. If you like, venture up into the resort area to see the sights and visit the Village. Or simply stay on the trail and continue on to Collingwood. The trail enters a fragrant lilac grove at the old train station at Blue Mountain Road, where you can stop to visit the Craigleith Heritage Depot’s exhibit. Beyond the lilacs, the trail cuts away from the highway through woodlands; past streams where beavers work to create their own little ponds; through stands of cedars; and past Cranberry Resort Golf Course before reaching the trailhead near Harbourview Park.

Rest awhile here, and head back the same way, take a different route along backcountry roads, or call up that friend who’s coming to pick you up to take you home.

Trail map from www.georgiantrail.ca

Check out these images of the trial:
www.meaford.com/town/georgiantrail.htm
Click “next” on the page to see more photos.

www.georgiantrail.ca/photogallery.html

At about 7 p.m. on November 14, 1872, the first locomotive rolled into Meaford along the newly-laid rail line between Collingwood and Meaford – built by the North Grey Railway Company. Until then, the village had shipped and received goods via ships and along the primitive roads of the time, and while various interests petitioned for a railway, it looked unlikely. According to Charles Cooper’s Railway Pages, it was Gooderham & Worts, the Toronto distillery, which may have finally spurred the development of the line.

The Northern Railway, which operated in Simcoe County, wasn’t convinced of the value in extending a line along the southern shore of Georgian Bay. But Gooderham & Worts had recently underwritten the construction of the Toronto Grey and Bruce Railway – arrowing northwest to Owen Sound to bring back the distillery’s primary supplies: firewood and wheat. To compete, the Northern gave authority to North Grey Railway, formed by politicians and business interests from Meaford, Collingwood and nearby communities, to build the line – with the ultimate goal of extending it to Owen Sound.

The train station at Meaford harbour

The first station stood on the west side of Sykes Street, near the top of “Station Hill”. (A small parkette now fronts the road here, with the rail yard long gone and a subdivision taking its place.) By the turn of the century, a new spur line to the harbour and a new station allowed more efficient access to industry and shipping. For years the railway served Meaford’s economy, brought in holiday visitors, and carried soldiers from the Meaford base overseas to the war in Europe, welcoming those that returned. But regular passenger service ended in 1960, and by then freight service had dropped to a train a day. The old station fell to the wrecker’s ball in 1965.

For two decades the line was essentially abandoned, but in a time when a growing “rail to trail” movement was converting abandoned rail lines across Ontario and North America, local residents showed considerable interest in turning the 32-kilometre line into something that could continue to benefit the towns along the way. The Georgian Trail would offer hiking, jogging, cycling, cross-country skiing and snow-shoeing to residents and visitors alike, whether they were touring a local leg or venturing the length of the trail. But the Georgian Cycle and Ski Trail Association had its work cut out for it. The rail line passed through two counties, two townships and three municipalities, and creating the trail would require considerable fund raising and volunteer time. But the group persevered, and within a mere three years the Georgian Trail officially opened. (As with the original North Grey Railway line, the section down to Meaford harbour took a little longer to complete – when your faithful blogger arrived in town back in 1992, you needed to venture up St. Vincent Street to access the trail across from Knights of Meaford.)

Next up, a tour of the trail.

His name was Joe. He was a sandy-haired mongrel who’d been cruelly abused by his master, and lost his ears and tail to a butcher knife. Weak and wary, he wandered the leafy streets of Meaford into the hearts of millions around the world.

Back in 1893, the plight of the mutt sparked the anger and imagination of a young author visiting Meaford’s Moore family, who had rescued Joe from his owner in a neighbouring village. Marshall Saunders helped nurse the dog’s wounds and fear, and worked out her own outrage by writing of his plight, a manuscript she called “Beautiful Joe”.

Marshall Saunders

The next year, Saunders entered the book in an American Humane Educational Society contest to find a sequel to “Black Beauty”. Her story of the Meaford dog’s life and rescue won the prize and publication in 1894, and went on to become an international best-seller of more than 6 million copies in 14 languages.

In 1963, former Mayor Frank Garvey and his wife, Judy, came across an old marker for Joe’s grave near the Bighead River, and the couple spearheaded an effort to create Beautiful Joe Park in the plot of land across the river from their home at the end of Cook Street.

Thirty years later, Beautiful Joe again took a place of prominence in Meaford, when a local group realized he might be yet another attraction to this beautiful, historical town. When the Canadian publisher told the newly established Beautiful Joe Heritage Society it had no plans to reissue the book, but the Society was welcome to publish it, the group pulled off an astonishing feat. Using a 1930s edition as the master copy, they republished “Beautiful Joe” within a week, just in time for the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the book’s publication. (The new edition explained Meaford’s place in Beautiful Joe’s life, as Saunders had changed the story’s location to a town in Maine in order to increase her chances at winning the contest and at American publication.) That same summer, Meafordites enjoyed a locally-produced play called “Beautiful Joe – A Dog’s Life” at the Meaford Opera House (now Meaford Hall).

Beautiful Joe - The Meaford Edition

In the years since, the group has continued to promote Joe (as well as the humane treatment of animals and the recognition of heroic and outstanding canines), and the park now includes a cast sculpture of Beautiful Joe, landscaping around the dog’s gravesite, a Memorial Pavilion bearing plaques to beloved pets, and a monument to K-9 officers and their handlers who lost their lives on September 11.

Canine memorials at Beautiful Joe Park

Next month will see Beautiful Joe’s Autumn Adventure return to the park with dog-related events and activities, and a new Beautiful Joe play is in the works.

Beside the main entrance to Beautiful Joe Park, you’ll see a pink frame house. This is the former Moore home, and the place where Joe lived out his years.

Visit the Beautiful Joe Heritage Society to find out a whole lot more.

At Meaford Haven’s meeting with businesspeople and municipal representatives on Tuesday, Meaford Councillor Barb Clumpus brought up an important issue. “Will Meaford Haven’s buildings reflect the beautiful architectural heritage we have in Meaford?” she asked. Clumpus is a heritage advocate and a proponent of preserving the architectural styles that make Meaford a beautiful example of historical small town Ontario. She worked with the group that helped develop Meaford’s Community Improvement Plan, which sets out guidelines to help retain the qualities that attract many people to the community.

Paul agreed that drawing on Meaford’s architectural vernacular was important. “The last thing we need is another ski chalet,” he said, to chuckles ’round the room.

A Meaford heritage streetscape.

With the initial architect’s conceptions getting under way soon, interested people have an opportunity to offer their input on what the Meaford Haven retirement bungalows and retirement condominium apartments will look like – even on layouts and floor plans. If you’re interested in participating in Meaford Haven’s virtual focus groups, sign up and get your ideas heard.