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Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac Chapter 1

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Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac Chapter 1

Saturday I posted this picture of Wanda Jane–originally from Ottawa, originally from Disco Viva, and now of California. She used to shop in my store in the 70s and Saturday was the first time we had seen each other in 47 years. So I decided Im going to put my book about my store online. Im getting older and I want none of you to forget that its okay to be yourselves.. and sending big hugs. Keep the message going..#beyourself

Chapter 1- ‘Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac.

To Dan Webb who got me to write these stories.

Self Employed? Even though I’m a Jedi, I’m Not Invincible!

Friday, Jan 16th, 2015.

“Hi, my name is Dan. I just saw your post on the Facebook Lost Ottawa group. You spoke to my Small Business Management Class at Algonquin College back in 1996. A speech we all never forgot. Just wanted to say Hello!!”

As I read the Facebook message again I was amazed people remembered me. After all, I had opened my business before the internet surge, and most of my customers were on the verge of forgetting everything, like myself. Two weeks previous I had actually found the speaking engagement itinerary from Algonquin College along with the complimentary pen they gave me. As my eldest son said,

“Keep the pen Mum, it could be a collectors item one day.”

I remembered the hour-long speech and cringed. Speaker number 5 was my position between the Second Cup Business Franchise and the students ‘nutrition break’. It was a tough slot to be in. I wanted to be different, so I remember walking in lip-synching to Aretha Franklin’s “Respect”. Knowing that Maureen Donnelly would not have done anything similar in her discussion previously about car dealerships; I figured I walked alone. The 50 odd business students sat before me with their mouths open after that entrance, and I immediately told them that if they wanted to hear how glorious owning a small business was that they should have invited Corel’s Michael Copeland. I patted a front row student on the shoulder and told him,

“Honey, don’t think you are going to get rich, as there ain’t no Love Boat dockin’ at the retail port anymore.”

Relentless, I continued to tell them a small business was like a giant Mousetrap game, and to make sure all your balls run smoothly so you don’t get trapped financially. My entrance to life in the business sector began inside the very first Le Chateau store on Ste. Catherine Street in 1967. Again, I asked the bewildered student how old he was that particular year. I told the crowd if I had to do it all over again I would have stayed in school– but most teachers in High School thought I was a taco short of a Mexican Combination Plate. There was no choice for me but self-employment, as who in their right mind was going to hire me. The trail of life had to be forged on my own like Reece Witherspoon in the film “Wild”.

I offered those gullible students some really great business advice like: if your store becomes successful, don’t let your 83 year-old senile Grandfather become the floorwalker, as he is libel to make people nervous. Or, never rent the former premise of Marvel Beauty School, as it’s going to take awhile to get the perm smell out of the place. Remember if a Chinese restaurant next door has a fire, you are most certainly going to deal with a lingering smell, and a wall full of water pockets. Some how I related to them that a burgeoning store owner uninterested in their customers was like a sad mime, and then went off on a tantrum on how I hated mimes. Anyway, the rent was right, and so began Flash Cadilac in 1974 on a budget of $1500.

Who else would instruct these young impressionable business students that making a big sale was like stages of phone sex I asked myself? I believed I described it as, “getting in there quietly, and building the momentum until you get that big orgasmic sale.” Explaining to them that my initial customers were from the gay community, the Rocky Horror crowd, and strippers from Pandora’s Box made their mouths drop. Never become a statistic I said.

I advised one young man that his dreams of opening a chain of stores should be dashed unless he had a relative in each town. The staff in my Toronto Yonge Street store were dealing drugs out of the store at 3 am and even my alarm system wasnt catching them. I lamented how business gets tough, and the only way I could sell things after the Rideau Centre opened, was if people could smell I was losing my shirt on Betsey Johnson apparel.

The most important message I repeated three times: even if you rent from family get a lease, and ads saying “find me behind the yellow line” really means I am truly behind a yellow duct tape line.

No matter what I went through, I stressed my customers throughout the years were my family, and we became a community. I always encouraged my fellow local business people, and never trashed local musicians that made it big like Alanis Morisette. Insisting, after a local backlash, complete with stickers, that said we had to “give the bitch a break”.

I never gave up, never became mainstream, and never looked back. If you can’t be true to yourself and like what you sell—well, what’s the use? Never ever regret what you do! Before they opened a business I said in closing, do research, make sure your finances are in check, study hard and graduate, and always believe in yourself. In my best Yoda voice I smiled at them and said:

“Adventure, excitement-a Jedi seeks not these things.”

Because of Dan and the public response on the Facebook group “Lost Ottawa” I decided to reminisce about Flash Cadilac in words. In years past I would not go near any mention of the store as it hurt too much to go down memory lane. It’s amazing how you get into a mindset that what you did for decades had nothing to do with you, but in reality, it will always be part of Ottawa’s fashion history.

Saved By The Bell in Carleton Place? What Does the Photo Say?

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1898 Ottawa Journal Social Comment

1898

So where was this bell? A month ago I found this:

Ring That Bell — The Carleton Place Community Alarm Clock

“In 1836 a fund to pay for the ringing of a morning bell at Carleton Place, as a sort of community alarm clock corresponding to later factory whistles and bells, was raised by donations from some forty persons. At a meeting called by Hugh Boulton, with James Rosamond as chairman, it was decided the bell should be rung daily at 5 a.m. in the months of May to August, and at 6 a.m. during the other eight months of each year.  A deduction was to be made from the bell ringer’s stipend for any time the bell was rung more than ten minutes late as timed by Robert Bell’s clock”.  – Howard Morton Brown

Jennifer Fenwick Irwin from the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum and I thought it was on top on one of the mills after seeing an illustration from The Toronto Daily Mail in 1898. Then yesterday I found this:

1911

A curfew was also introduced and passed bringing sadness to the youth of Carleton Place in 1911. Beginning on the first day of July the bell at the town hall will ring at 9 pm sharp each night. All youth under the age of 16 will be required to be off the street at that time unless accompanied by parents or a guardian.

So was there a bell in the tower of the Carleton Place Town Hall?

bell tower1

I sent the picture below to my friend Diana Ani Stokely from Grafix to Go in Texas who does my book covers,  is a graphic designer, and also restores old photographs. I asked her for her opinion and this is what she said.

cptownhall

Diana Ani Stokely said,” Yes, i think so. I painted it pink to show you.

Look closely in the turret for the pinkish shape.

bekk

So was there a bell or not a bell? We will never really know for whom the bell tolled in Carleton Place I guess.

Thanks to our state of the art digital tools and Master Artists, we can now repair any kind of damage whether it’s a tear, a crease, water or mold damage, fading, or even if your photos are in pieces. It is amazing we can now restore old photos to their former glory.

 

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Donovan Hastie found this photo. Any idea what the date is?

Photo restoration- This is an example of what Diana Ani Stokely does. Read below all about some of her restorations which are many.

ani

I was given a difficult task one day, to create a portrait of a man. The only clue I had of Captain Bell’s face was a photocopy of a newspaper clipping about an inch tall. I worked on it for some time, only to be discouraged beyond hope, so I put it away. I was able to do so because the request had come informally — an acquaintance had heard I might be able to do such a job.

Many years passed. During all that time, I continued to teach myself the necessary skills in Photoshop to restore photos, manipulate them into pleasing images, and gain skills to finally approach the task again.

I spent a full two days restoring this portrait. I probably put close to 20 hours of intense and meticulous work to produce the final result. When I presented my friend (for who could remain an acquaintance after so many hours in the presence of his ancestor?) a print of the finished piece, his unbounded joy was my reward. Satisfaction all around.

Hotel in the Woods

photo2

This is another one of the old photos from my foray to the Homestead in Hico. It is too pale to discern details — all I could tell was the photo showed a group of people, and it looked like an outdoor shot. After getting it back to my shop, adjusting the light levels, and cleaning up some marks and spots, an interesting sight met my eyes.

Who were these people and why are they gathered here in the woods? Is that a hotel in the background? I counted 18 people. Five are women in aprons holding plates of food. There is a boy child. A fat man holds some kind of handled tool, and next to him sits a young man with watch chain and fob, necktie and pin. Behind him a man whittles a piece of wood. On the left, another man holds aloft some kind of handled tool, an ax? Another man holds a witching wand, or maybe it is a pair of shears.

 - I " "no " Domes naa i-n i-n i-n aamaRfd The...

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  13 Jun 1899, Tue,  Page 8

 

Roy Brown — Forgotten War Heroe?

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I wasn’t going to write about Roy Brown, I really wasn’t–but when I started going through online newspapers today I found something interesting.Two years ago in a National Post article about Roy Brown a comment was made that the Vancouver Police were called to collect a number of guns from a woman claiming to be Brown’s daughter-in-law some years ago. Among the items seized were a Vickers aircraft machine gun and a couple of German aircraft Spandau (or similar) guns. Someone wondered if there were still battle weapons around– would they find a new life in a museum? The sad fact is historically invaluable weapons are long gone into the belly of smelter. I then began to search newspaper archives but could not find mention of the guns.

Captain Brown, a private and humble man, never actually claimed the victory over Richthofen, popularly known as the Red Baron. In fact, according to a PBS study he was quoted that when he saw Richthofen’s body, “There was a lump in my throat. If he had been my dearest friend, I could not have felt greater sorrow.”

Did the fatal shot come from the Australian troops on the ground in a muddy battlefield In Somme? Rob Probert president of the Carleton Place-based Roy Brown Society said is was definitely Roy Brown not the Australians that shot Richthofen

“That’s our story and we’re sticking to it,” he said.

According to many articles the Germans wanted to hide the fact that their 80 aerial victory war hero was killed in an aerial combat. That would would have been a greater blow to morale so, they had a vested interest in continuing the myth that ground fire killed Richthofen.

If the verdict ever went to the ground forces nobody would have been happier than Roy Brown. In 1997, brother, Howard Morton Brown, said that the flying ace was never comfortable carrying the title of the man who killed Richthofen. Any time he was asked, Roy was a reluctant warrior and his reply was always the same:
“God, I hope not.”

In 1920 Roy Brown was asked to unveil a plaque in St. James Anglican Church in Carleton Place. Howard said Roy removed the cover, but said nothing. “He cried.” Had Roy Brown been an American they would have honored him with a postage stamp or a school named after him, but he didn’t even have a marker on his grave after it was moved.

Brown had been badly hurt in the war and died of a heart attack in 1944 at his home in Stouffville, Ontario at the age of 50. Local Stouffville native 11-year-old Nadine Carter set out to piece together why there was no recognition for him in her hometown. He and his wife’s body had been relocated from Stouffville to the Necropolis Cemetery in Toronto, but there was no tombstone, and the exact location was unknown.

Now thanks to Nadine the plaque is in the making, the grave is being located, and will be proudly marked with a headstone. One of Brown’s descendants, granddaughter Dianne Sample, also invited Carter to a ceremony for her grandfather in Toronto in June, when he’ll be finally enshrined into the Canadian Aviation Hall of Fame.

In reality he shouldn’t have been in the war, his nerves and health weren’t rugged enough to take it. But he forced himself every single day, despite deteriorating health, because he knew others needed his expertise to stay alive. That’s what makes a hero, whether he shot down Richthofen or not.

There is that old saying that if we forget history we are doomed to repeat it.

Remembering is an important part of how we choose to live in the present, which is the last step we get to make before we become part of the future. If we don’t remember, we don’t know why we are.

Roy Brown Day June 6th, 2015, Carleton Place Ontario
Did Roy Brown Die Before He Killed the Red Baron?

I wrote this earlier today and when I got the paper Jeff McGuire had also written his thoughts on Roy Brown. Good read.