This beautiful, antique display case has a sweet story in Perth’s history….
Originally she was located in Haggis Candy Store, just down the street at 60 Gore St.
James Haggis opened the store in 1926, and eventually his daughter Sophia took over the business, keeping up all of the traditions of homemade candy making that her father passed down to her.
Sophia was a legend, making treats such as horehound candy, taffy, peanut brittle, fudge, and 6 foot tall candy canes!!!! She was one of Perth’s first female entrepreneurs, and she ran the store until her retirement in 1988!!!
This beautiful cabinet was rescued from the basement and used to display beauty products at a lovely Gore Street Salon, she did her job beautifully there for 19 years, until the owner’s recent retirement, when we were fortunate enough to bring her to The Fork
A gorgeous addition to our Takeaway-Bistro, we hope to do her proud as she displays our yummy homemade treats for years to come
HAPPY EASTER Chris Moskos owner of the Perth Tea Room and CandyLand and Sophia Nee owner of Haggis’ Candy Shop are pictured getting chocolate bunnies and baskets of chocolate eggs ready for the easter season in the early 1960’s. 1962 announcement from the Perth Courier declares the winner of the Giant Easter Egg.
Connie and Peter, great memories of your mom and dad from the Tea Room and of course the chocolate shop. Grover Lightford was always telling me that I shouldn’t be eating so many chocolates. I was absolutely addicted.
Have been at both places years ago. I remember the large chocolate egg stuffed with other chocolate candies and decorated with my name on it that Mark Rubino brought me when he was dating my sister Lottie (later married) It weighed about 5lbs. A lot of wonderful chocolate and many good memories. About 78 yrs. ago. Thanks for the memories
Loved going to Haggis’ on Fri. eves. back in the 50’s, our night to go to town for grocery shopping and we each could buy our favorite Also enjoyed going to the Tea Room when in PCI with Mary Ellen Erwin and we would visit with our friend Evie Moskos.
Chocolate covered cream eggs with scrolling icing and candy flowers decorating it. They seemed quite large with your name on it.. I was allowed a slice off it each evening until it was gone. It still brings back pleasant memories of Easter time. The Easter Bunny also brought me a glass eye for my Maggie Muggins doll who was missing one. After that I was a believer…..
I remember both of them very well. Chris made the best butterscotch Sunday’s. Sophia gave me one of her recipes, however it was for really large batches. Chris and my Grandfather, Peter, another candy maker were close friends.
Somehow I got the idea that Lanark was the county town of Lanark county. Since this would be just about the only county town in Ontario that I had never visited (always of course excepting Hali-burton, where even the train goes only three times a week!) I decided it would be just the thing to round out my day if I could make it to Lanark. Here indeed would be terra incognita. So turning my car toward terra incognita, I went out of Carleton Place and turned off at the church.
I struck a road that sometimes was paved, and sometimes was not, till I came to a spot called Ferguson’s Falls. By now the countryside had changed. Gone were the lush acres of Carleton Place. In their place was that undecided sort of country that exists between Brockvllle and Kingston, and west of Perth. It can’t quite make up its mind whether to be agricultural country or not. So you find pockets of good land, interspersed by stretches of picturesque rock lands. These same woods, good for maple syrup in the spring, pasture in the summer, and fuel in the winter, are not to be sneezed at, if you have some arable land as well, but you are out of luck as a farmer if all your land is this way.
However, I was not out to sob over the steering wheel about the plight of the farmer who owned a rock pile, but to get on to Lanark town, and ultimately it came into view. I took a couple of squirms, went around a hill or two, and landed plump in front of the Lanark Era. Just about the easiest place to get acquainted, the quickest place to get Information, and the best place to feel at home for any newspaperman is a country newspaper office. Deadlines aren’t the disagreeable things there they are in such fast-moving sheets as The Citizen, and so they generally have time to talk to you.
I sat there and sniffed that lovely smell of a composing room, and plumped myself down to see if I could find out something about Lanark. First and foremost, Lanark produced the great George Mair, whose epic, Tecumseh, is regarded as one of the truly great literary things done by a Canadian. With that I might couple the fact that Managing Editor Robertson of Beaverbrook’s London Daily Express, is an old Lanark boy. So is George Mcllraith, Liberal M.P. for Ottawa West.
In with these important tidings, I would breathlessly add that the chain stores have not yet invaded this delightful place. Lanark today has only a few over 700 people, but it once had more. Its chief support in days gone by was the woollen mill, but this burned down at the end of the last war, or thereabouts. There was no other large industry to replace it, and today the largest payroll in the town is that of the school. Incidentally, I see the Lanark Era of the issue when I was in town said the teachers had resigned, and it was decided to advertise for new ones.
I went south on the road which they said was the bumpiest in Lanark and they misinformed me, for there is a bumpier one in Georgia and in due course I came to the outskirts of Perth. I was told by George Mcllraith that I had missed a most important item outside Perth, and that was the first bank established in Upper Canada. I was back two weeks later, but entering by another road, missed it again.
I might say that I had been through *Perth a good many times by rail, but had no idea it was such a beautiful place. Perth has a pretty park in its midst, and is so laid out, not only to give it real beauty, but to create the impression that the town is really bigger than it is. I have been in the original Perth in Scotland, and both of course, are on the Tay. While doubtless the Caledonian counterpart is more entrancingly located, the Canadian Perth, and Lanark’s county town, does not suffer too much by comparison.
Whoever laid the pavement between Perth and Smiths Falls did a good job, and my own concern was the proximity of a speed cop. Smiths Falls is pretty enough, and seems to change but little. I associate with Smiths Falls all kinds of emotions. I remember, for instance, sitting at a table in the dining room of the main hotel there, and learning that Doc Cook had “discovered” the North Pole. It was also during another momentous meal there that a fellow at the table said that the Mauretanla had just broken the world’s speed record for a steamship.
At a later date, I stopped off at S.F. to see a girl, between trains, and later again, used to drop into the Canadian Pacific station to have a chat with “Tex” Ricard, who went to Queen’s in my day, and later became a railway despatcher. But above all. I remember going down to The Falls one time at the behest of The Citizen to write about vaccination and some of its evils. I went around to all the locations first, and climaxed the day by interviewing a couple of indignant medical officials.
I returned on the last train, charged a heavy dinner up to The Citizen, and then was pleased to hear from Vincent Pask, night city editor, that it was the best story I had written for him up to date. That I had turned in a lot of bad ones I am the first to admit. The trip from Smiths Falls home through a sort of lane of a highway was dull, and I was shocked to see what a small place Franktown is. I was prepared for something better. I bypassed Carleton Place on the way back, and arrived safely at the Island Boulevard traffic circle without incident. Austin F. Cross June 1940
The City Bank was the first bank to establish an agency in Perth, the Hon. Roderick Matheson being agent. He transacted business in his own office, where Matheson & Balderson now are, but finding that his own business required all his attention he gave up the agency, as no other agent was appointed, the office was closed. Then the Commercial Bank opened an agency, with Captain Leslie as Manager. His office was kept in the small stone building, which still stands on the property near the old dwelling house. John A. McLaren now lives in this building. He farmed a little, as well as managed the Bank, and had in his employ an old man by the name of McFarlane, but transacted all his business himself.
In order to do this, he had a bell put on the building, which was rung if he was wanted while out attending to his farm duties during bank hours, but he had no scruples about keeping people waiting. He was very exact and particular about paying out money, as even in these days, a stranger could not draw money for a cheque unless identified, or accompanied by a friend known to the Manager. He married a lady from Kingston, who was very peculiar. She never went out except to church, and very rarely there, and always dressed in the same ‘good’ clothes from the time she came to Perth until they left. Captain Leslie did not do a very large business, in fact, not enough to pay his salary which was six hundred dollars per year. He only had an ordinary iron box for a safe, which was built in the floor of his private office, the top opening upward from the floor like a trapdoor, so that his business could not have been very extensive.
In 1856, he handed over the books to Mr. James Bell, who later became the Registrar of South Lanark, and the Bank was removed to his dwelling on Drummomd Street, where Mr. McArthur‘s house now stands. As the Bank quarters were not ready for him, a small brick addition was built for an office, which was pulled down when Mr. McArthur built his present residence.
Ormond Lee has a question. And he’s serious: “Have you ever done a psychedelic?” The 40-year-old tree planter seems disappointed that his visitor has not experimented with hallucinogenic “psychedelic” drugs such as LSD or magic mushrooms. “If you haven’t, you might not know what we’re talking about.”
Lee and his friends are discussing how they’ve managed to hang on to hippie values and lifestyles long after most fellow baby boomers traded their love beads for power suits. Brooke Valley is one of numerous pockets across North America where the 1960s never really went away. This rural area west of Perth became known by locals as “hippie valley” after it was settled by American draft dodgers in the 1960s. Young people from all over Canada came here to drop out of mainstream society and turn on to drugs, communal living and cosmic love. Today, several dozen people subsist in a variety of odd houses, including one with a sod roof. They make their own music, run an alternative school and shake their fists at police helicopters patrolling for marijuana over their organic vegetable gardens.
Yet within the privacy of the community there is whispered debate about whether they have truly escaped consumer culture and expanded their spiritual’ consciousness or whether they are being tainted by the materialism of the 1990s. “This is a very yuppie community .now,” says Dawn King, 45, one of the original Brooke Valley hippies. “Ours is one of the few families without a TV or VCR.”
Morning Glory Farm is a former hippie commune that has learned to adapt to the 1990s with success. Located about 200 kilometres northwest of Ottawa near Killaloe, it started 23 years ago with about 15 people in two houses sharing work and meals. Today six adults and nine children live in six houses. Each family owns a share of the 100-acre site. “Everyone is happy with the way it is now,” says resident Christina Anderman. 33. “We consider it a neighborhood except closer. We have our separate lives, but we take care of the land together.” Anderman’s husband Robbie, 44, was one of the founders. He dropped out of University of Toronto’s Rochdale College (which later earned notoriety as a drug centre) to help buy the $4,300 parcel of land. “The original idea was to learn to live on the land as a community, with everyone helping each other,” he recalls. “Basically it was an open door for years.” It eventually evolved into separateon: dwellings because of disagreements about lifestyle (some wanted to build new buildings, while others got stoned and disappeared for days), gardening techniques and food. “People couldn’t agree whether we should eat meat or not, whether we should just eat grains or macrobiotic or raw food,” says Robbie. Similar disagreements and tendencies towards individualism led to the breakup of a commune at McDonald’s Corners, near Brooke Valley, where Or-mond Lee lived for 11 years. He had taken a vow of poverty and shared his material wealth with anywhere from 18 to 60 fellow residents. The commune disbanded in 1985 and many of its residents drifted into Brooke Valley.
“Up to that point we put all our money into one pot and shared it out as we needed it,” said Lee. “Then people started wanting to have their own money. That’s when I stopped enjoying it.” While Iee won’t disclose whether he still uses dings, he says they’re one reason he has maintained his hippie values. “Good clean acid opens up your heart. It shows you compassion. It shows that you’re one with the universe, that you have to take care of everything around you.” Dawn King challenges this rosy picture. “They’re using it to deaden consciousness, not expand it.” Today the word “commune” is a faintly embarrassing anachronism that conjures up an image of group sex. The current hip term is “intentional community.” “The word ‘commune’ makes people think we want a whole bunch of people to keep coming and living here and that’s not really true,” says Christina An-derman. “It also tends to attract guys who are drunk and want to see if we’re working in the garden with no clothes on.” Kenneth Westhues, a sociology professor at University of Waterloo who studied the hippie movement, estimates that tens of thousands of North Americans are still living communally. “But most (hippies) got married, got kids, got a mortgage and now vote left,” says Westhues. The goals of the movement were transformation of western society through social justice, peace, spirituality and a back-to-the-land lifestyle. “We don’t want to spend as much money or spend that much time making it,” explains Olga Zuyderhoff, 39, of Brooke Valley. She and her common-law husband Cam Gray, 41, support themselves and their three children on about $15,000 a year.
“Having these alternate values is really swimming upstream,” says Gray. “Lots of people pay lip service, but even around here people are getting bigger and better cars and swimming pools.” Gray is a self-employed carpenter by day and rock musician by night. Zuyderhoff is homeschooling their children, Orion, 9, Flinder, 7, and Marlen, 3. They have an outhouse, chickens and a 1975 Buick Regal. “We try and define what our values are and maintain them by staying close as a family,” says Gray. The entire family sleeps in two double beds pushed together. Zuyderhoff had her children at home and nursed them until they were two years old. “It’s an experiment,” she says of their child-rearing. “I don’t know what the end result will be. I think my children are learning to become nice human beings.” But Dawn King, who worked as a midwife while raising four children without electricity or running water, is tired of experimenting. “That lifestyle is so physically exhausting and time-consuming that it was self-abusive,” says King, who is on social assistance. “We were trying to go back to the way pioneers did it. I’m much more realistic now.” Although she still raises most of her own food, she has electricity and a washing machine. “I’m not going to wash clothes by hand anymore.” At the Morning Glory commune, Robbie Anderman also recalls the difficulties of the early days. He shakes his head at the memory of middle-class city kids learning how to garden, chop wood and survive winter in the bush. “We made a lot of mistakes.”
Robbie avoided the Vietnam War draft because his parents got a psychiatrist to write a letter saying drug use made him unfit for service. Today Robbie is the volunteer principal of the farm’s alternative elementary school. He makes dulcimers, a wood folk instrument, while Christina works part-time at a health-food store in Killaloe. They have a well and a solar panel, which provides energy for their fridge and stereo. The Andernians support their children Daniel, 13, Daryl, 11, Ethan, 8, and Benjamin, 4 on $12,000 a year. His parents bought them a car. And they are hoping to earn some savings through sales of a child backpack carrier they invented. “Basically it’s fun here,” says Daryl, adding: “I don’t miss having a TV. Some of the stuff they put on it is pretty absurd.” The Andernians stopped smoking marijuana with the birth of their first child. “If a child needs me, I can’t be too spaced out,” says Robbie. The “free love” of the ’60s was part media invention and part sad myth, says Robbie. He and Christina got married barefoot in an apple orchard near his parents’ home in New York. He is Jewish, she is Quaker and the ceremony was American Indian. “Part of free love is avoiding responsibility,” he says. “That’s why in this area there are a lot of women with children and no men around.” While most former hippies have become mature adults, others retain a certain narcissistic, self-indulgent quality, says Westhues. Indeed, Cam Gray shows impatience when attention is directed to someone else during a discussion at Brooke Valley. “You’re losing me,” he snaps. “I’m getting uninterested. This is just trivialities.” Westhues says the hippie movement’s legacy is greater sexual freedom, feminism and environmentalism. But he says it fell short of genuine political change because people don’t get involved. Gray sees it differently: “Our lifestyle is a political statement.”
The locals call it Hippie Valley. But on the map it’s known as Brooke Valley, a sprawling spread west of Perth that looks more like the Ponderosa than a hippie haven. It’s a place where the folk are so self-sufficient, some have decided to take the education of their children into their own hands. Jim and Ruth Dcacovc, both former public school teachers, did it for 12 years. Recess for the Deacove girls used to be a game of basketball or a cross-country ski in the back field with Dad. Science class was helping out in the garden. “We’re self-admitted renegades,” says Jim, who with his wife Ruth now make cooperative games. “We did our 12-year duty and fulfilled our social work contract with society.”
This year Tanya, 13, and Christa, 12, went back to the public school in preparation for high school. The girls are products of young professional parents who have joined a number of Canadians who believe public schooling is not all it’s chalked up to be. The Canadian Alliance of HomeschoolerS now numbers about 300 families across Canada. It was founded two-and-a-half years ago as a support system for parents who wished to take their children out of public school, by Wendy and Rolf Priesnitz who live in a rural area near Hamilton. “There are a lot of people very unhappy with the school system,” said Priesnitz.
In the Perth area there are just two children now in home instruction and just a handful of “homeschooled” children in urban areas. Right now, there are none in Ottawa-Carleton. The concept of home instruction seems to attract the young professionals who have moved to rural areas to seek a different lifestyle. The Kerrs, who live abcut 80 kilometres east of Ottawa, just outside the little village of Dalkeith, Ont., still practise “homes-chooling.” The Kerr kids learn about fractions by baking whole-wheat bread or bran muffins. “I guess we were considered mavericks at first.” says Pat Kerr. The Deacoves and the Kerrs say they enjoyed their years in the school system. All four are university graduates, but they, began to realize with their own children that public schooling was not the answer. As well, the two couples wanted to be closer to their children, watch them grow up and have more of a hand their development than is possible in most families. While home instruction is not encouraged by boards of education, parents do have the legal right to educate their children.
“I wouldn’t contemplate it (home instruction) knowing the benefits of the school system to children,” says Bob Cressman, director of education for the Lanark County Board, whose board takes in the Brooke Valley area. Parents are not required to have a teaching certificate in order to teach their children at home. As long as the program and studies set out by the parents is satisfactory to education officials, parents are allowed to excuse their children from school for one year.The inspection process is usually repeated on an annual basis. Cressman considers the idea a “fad” that started in the early 1970s with the increase of communal living.
“I’m not even sure from my point of view if it’s a good idea having everything come from the wife and husband … I don’t see it as a broad enough education. “Home instruction depends a lot on parents,” he says. “If they are former teachers, the instruction given them could be excellent, but how they would develop on a social and emotional level in a restricted environment is perhaps questionable.” Ken Johnson, provincial school attendance counsellor, is in charge of investigating all complaints by school boards if children are not attending school. He and his staff are asked to investigate about two cases of home instruction every year.
“A child is excused from attending school if he or she is receiving a satisfactory education at home or elsewhere.” Parents who teach their children at home can be charged by their boards of education if the program is not found suitable by board officials with neglecting a child’s education and if found guilty, can be fined a maximum $100. Few charges in year Johnson figures there are about two or three cases a year in the six Ontario educational regions. “We have to protect the child’s right to education,” said Johnson. “Most parents 99.9 per cent of them are well-meaning, but some are over-indulgent or over-protective of their child. “Of course it causes concern with boards because of declining enrolment, but there is no panic,” said Johnson. “It’s not popular.” Parents who teach their children at home agree it’s not for everyone. The Deacoves say parents must be dedicated and be willing to devote a lot of time to their children. Their days must be structured and disciplined, but the benefits to learning at home are immense a one-to-one teacher-student relationship and incorporating education into everyday tasks.
The family began their routine at 9 a.m. and finished at 3:30 p.m. The day consisted of reading, writing and math. Subjects such as home economics were picked up by the girls when they mended clothes, science class became working in the garden and learning about crop rotations and pollination of flowers. “After teaching in public school systems we experienced a lot of discontent about the role we had to play,” said Jim. “An immense amount of time is spent on things other than learning and developing as a person.” They wanted an alternative for their children a system in which the kids wouldn’t be under constant competitive pressure. “There are an awful lot of tests and exams going on perpetually … in our view they tend to shift the emphasis on learning to extraneous factors such as rewards, status and privileges,” said Jim. “But with our homeschooling approach they took our progress checks and if they didn’t understand a concept we tried a different perspective. “Academically I don’t think they suffered,” said Ruth, who did question the lack of social contact the girls might have missed. But they always had friends and at one time were part of a small school started in the valley by her parents.
Time to join others last September, the Deacoves felt it was time for their girls to go to regular school. Tanya would soon be entering high school and taking subjects the Deacoves felt they couldn’t handle. “She (Tanya) needed a thorough year of immunization before the big pressure situation.” They say they’re enjoying it and finding it easy. “Teachers don’t expect very much,” said 12-year-old Christa. “They ask you to do an assignment and expect it in two weeks . . I figured we had to hand it in the next day.” Both girls said they had trouble adapting to some things. Tanya is worried about exams and Christa said grammar was foreign to her when she first started back at school. “I didn’t even know what a noun or a verb was, but I passed my exam with 90 per cent.”
The Kerr’s have five children. Their eldest, Carolyn, is back at school after two years at home. Sunny, 7, will stay out of school until he feels ready to attend. The Kerrs said they set up a schedule for their children a rigid school-like system that lasted only two weeks. It didn’t seem to work. “I felt she, (Carolyn) was demanding too much … she expected me to be her teacher.” Their oldest child, Carolyn, had a difficult time at school. She just hated going. “We also wanted to keep in touch with them and see them learning and growing,” said Pat. “We wanted to be with them while they were doing it.” A lot of what she did was practical working in the kitchen and outside. The Kerr’s pick up books for their children at book sales and taught them to read from them. While Carolyn has a well-rounded vocabulary, she was behind in math. Remedial classes fixed that. The Kerr kids will attend school when, they decide they are ready.
Floyd Robert Donald Smith (born May 16, 1935 in Perth, Ontario). In 1954-55 Smith played junior hockey with the Galt Black Hawks in the OHA. He made his National Hockey League debut for the Boston Bruins, playing 3 games with the team in 1954- 1955. 1956-57 with the Hershey Bears AHL then called up to the Bruins for 23 games that year. Smith then spent 5 years with the New York Rangers organization with the Springfield Indians AHL, cracking the Rangers line up for only a 29-game stint in 1961. In 1963, Smith was acquired by the Detroit Red Wings. He scored an NHL career high 49 points during the 1965-66 season. At the 1968 trade deadline, he was sent to the Toronto Maple Leafs. He was selected by the Buffalo Sabres during the 1970 expansion draft and served as the team’s first captain. Smith became an assistant coach with the Sabres in 1972. The next year, he was hired as head coach of the team’s top farm club, the AHL’s Cincinnati Swords. He won a Calder Cup in the first of his two year’s with the team. In 1974, he became Buffalo’s head coach, leading the team to a loss in the Stanley Cup Final in his first year. He also coached the World Hockey Association’s Cincinnati Stingers for the 1976-77 season and was Toronto Maple Leafs coach for the first 68 games of the 1979-80. He remained with the Leafs as a scout until being promoted to General Manager, a position he held for the 1989-90 and 1990-91 seasons
Perth RememberedMy Father, Walter Bromley, managed Shaws for many years and one Christmas we got tickets from a clothing traveller to the Montreal Forum to see the Canadiens play the Red Wings. We caught the midnight train in Perth to Montreal and we were on our way to an amazing adventure. On game day Dad called Floyd at the hotel the Wings were staying and Floyd told Dad to bring us over to the hotel when the Red Wings were leaving for the game. We were sitting in the lobby and all the Wings players were there. I had brought pictures of the Wings with me and got autographs from them all. The big surprise was when I got a tap on my shoulder and looked up and there was Gordie Howe. It was an amazing experience for a young lad from Perth and will always cherish that memory. Still have all the pics with the autographs.
Bonny Dee HamiltonWe lived next door to the Smiths and they had a T.V. before we did. Mr. Smith would invite my grandfather over to watch the hockey games, it got very exciting when Floyd was playing. Even after we got a T.V. it was more fun watching them seeing their son play. He treated me well when he came home, never complained about me following him around.
Cathy HansenFloyd Smith arranged to have a hockey stick signed by Toronto Maple players for my brother Greg when the family went on a weekend trip to Toronto. Not sure what year it was but Tim Horton was one of the players that signed it. As I understand it, Floyd was with the opposing team that night but still had it signed by Greg’s favourite team. He always cherished this hockey stick and left it to cousin Tom when he died.
John ReidSometime in the early 1960’s I caddied for Dr. Walsh who played in a regular Saturday foursome with Floyd Smith, Jim Dicola and Alf Ashton. Quite a thrill for a young hockey fan!
The first European settlers, Scottish and Irish soldiers, and early farmers were met with the harsh terrain of the Canadian Shield. It is this rocky shoreline that makes Tay Valley such a spectacular destination for lakeside living. Pristine swimming, mature forests and steep rock faces create the feeling of true Canadiana. To recognize these assets, heritage plaques now mark significant trees, legacy cottages and historic farm properties that have remained in the same families for generations.
As an employer, OMYA has a credible track record. It acquired the former Steep Rock Resources properties in 1988, and made a long-term capital commitment to upgrade and expand the facilities. It earned both its ISO 9001:2000 and ISO 14000:1996 certificates. The plant meets environmental regulations for noise, air and effluent.
The company operates an open pit mine at Tatlock and a mill in Perth. The calcium carbonate it produces is slurried and either railed or trucked to customers. It is used in the manufacture of paper, paints, plastic, food and pharmaceuticals and a variety of other industries. OMYA has about 100 employees of its own and provides another 150 jobs for local trucking and mining contractors. It is providing a reliable source of income for them and pumping about $20 million annually into the local economy.
Little has been said about the fact that water for the plant now comes from seven deep wells. They tap into the groundwater and are licensed to pump up to 800 L/min. The wells will be reduced to standby status. The net effect on the river, given that the underground aquifer is not being depleted, may be close to zero. Time will tell. Read more here.. click
Mineral Deposit Inventory for Ontario
Ministry of Energy, Northern Development and MinesPermanent Link to this Record: MDI31F01NW00006
Point Location Description: Square symbol ‘ Ma 11 ‘ SW of Tatlock and N of Murrays Hill.
Location Method: conversion from mdi
Source Map: OGS 1979, P 1980 MARBLES OF THE PEMBROKE-RENFREW AREA
Sources Map Scale: 1:125 000
Access Description: From Hwy 7 at Perth take the road to Lanark. At Lanark and the junction to Carleton Place (8.7 ml) continue straight. At the 30.9 ml junction turn right onto a gravel road to Tatlock. The quarry is at 31.85 ml on the left.
Exploration and Mining History
Originally opened by Angelstone Ltd (1962/3-1971/2), producing ‘ Temple White ‘ dimension stone from 2 quarries on lots 4 and 5. W. R. Barnes reopened the quarry on lot 4 in 1977 and produced decorative stone chips and calcium carbonate filler. They also built a processing plant in Perth. In 1981 the plant and quarry were purchased by Steep Rock Resources Inc. (a subsidiary of Pluess-Staufer A.G.) The quarry has been operated on a seasonal basis , producing 250,000 tonnes per year for year round operations of the mill (1992). Increased levels of production were expected in 1993 as stripping to the N and S of the present quarry was carrried out at that time. Plant capacity was increased above its previous 250, 000 tonnes limit. The Perth mill produced (1992) : high-grade calcium carbonate filler for the paper industry, decorative aggregate, terrazo chips, poultry grit, agricultural limestone, stucco mix and fine-grained filler for floor tile, wall joint compounds, paints and plastics. Diamond drilling was done by Steep Rock Resources Inc. at Lot 5, Con. 4, see assessment file #19, Darling Twp.
08/14/2000 (C Papertzian) – The quarry lies in the W part of a 17.7 km wide marble belt with minor paragneiss and metavolcanics. The quarried rock is white, coarse-grained (2.8 mm) calcitic marble; one of the purest and brightest (>95 %) of its kind. The units being quarried occur in an 85 m wide zone which contains reserves for over 50 years (1992).
My wife Maureen and I bought a small cabin at Tatlock three years ago with plans to build an addition, keep things simple, and enjoy Lanark’s rural peace and the clean waters of Rob’s Lake. Little did we know what was brewing just down the road, where a giant Swiss corporation was preparing a huge expansion of a quarry to feed a world-scale processing plant for calcium carbonate products located near Perth.
Three years later we are one of eight individuals or groups who have passed a major procedural hurdle and are appealing the expansion plans of OMYA (Canada) Ltd., which is probably the largest single producer of calcium carbonate products in the world. OMYA’s expansion could have serious adverse impacts on the Tay River near Perth; in the vicinity of the OMYA quarry at Tatlock; and for Lanark residents along the Highway 511 corridor and in Lanark village, because of a projected flow of 40 ton trucks from the quarry travelling the corridor every two or three minutes, 24 hours a day and seven days a week.
Besides ourselves the appellants include Lanark residents from Glen Tay, Perth and McDonald’s Corners; cottagers from Bob’s Lake; an environmentalist from Stittsville; and the Council of Canadians, whose particular concern is OMYA’s plan to ship water out of the Great Lakes watershed despite stated Ontario government policy to the contrary.
The issue we are appealing is a permit issued by the Ontario Ministry of the Environment to allow OMYA to take up to 4.5 million litres of water per day out of the Tay River at Glen Tay, 7 km. west of Perth, to be mixed with calcium carbonate to form a slurry that paper companies and other industries are eager to buy at prices of $150 and up per ton.
Calcium carbonate, better known as limestone or marble, is a major product in industry used in everything from paper and plastics to toothpaste and diet supplements. The former Steep Rock quarry at Tatlock that OMYA acquired in the 1990s has an exceptionally large and pure deposit of this mineral.
Ontario has given OMYA a permit to mine up to 4 million tons a year of calcium carbonate, or calcite and another permit to pump up to 3.6 million litres of water per day out of the quarry for dewatering as its operations move below the level of surrounding lakes. The company has invested hundreds of millions to transform its processing plant at Glen Tay, just off Highway 7, into a state of the art facility.
Apart from one Ontario Municipal Board appeal relating to the Glen Tay plant, OMYA’s preparations for expansion have attracted little notice. While permit applications relating to the quarry were posted on Ontario’s electronic Environmental Registry, few of us have time to be so vigilant as to have seen the posting and responded within 30 days. The permits passed through almost unopposed.
That situation changed when OMYA set out to put the final piece in place for its expansion plan – taking water from the Tay because it had outrun the capacity of local groundwater sources to meet its needs for water. When the permit application was posted to the Environmental Registry, an astonishing 283 letters of concern were sent to the Ontario Ministry of the Environment. Ninety per cent of these letters called for some kind of environmental assessment.
There was universal concern that OMYA wanted water from the Tay before adequate information had been collected about its ability to meet OMYA’s needs. The Tay watershed is already stressed because it serves as a reservoir of water to help maintain the Rideau Canal at navigation levels during the summer months. Water levels in Bob’s Lake, the chief reservoir lake, drop by four or five feet every summer as water is drawn for the Rideau system.
This concern was compounded by the lack of current data. The last consistent measurement of water flows along the Tay was made over a dozen years ending in 1927. At some times in the year, the Tay is a river of rocks with a flow so low that almost no water gets through to Perth– read the rest here click