Did you know that one of the landmarks for Scotch Corners used to be “to turn off Highway 7 at the lXL Cheese Factory”? It was a hopping corner with traffic jams consisting of farmers waiting to get their milk weighed in and upon leaving, a quick trip to the back to the whey vat pick up some whey to feed their pigs.
Local lad Alfie Poole had the answers to the local stories in those days and there was a reason as to why this particular cheese factory was called ‘the IXL’. Seems there was a couple of cheese factories down the road and no one wanted to mix them up. There was one past the St John’s Anglican Church on the Ferguson Falls Road called the “Fair Play” and another opposite the church called the “Grab All”. These were the actual names I kid you not.
Well the farmer’s around the McCreary settlement were having none of that, and wanted to have the best cheese factory in the area. So up the factory went and it became known as the IXL but was sadly destroyed by fire in 1969.
Hi, Linda ~Don’t know if you might be interested in my Grandfather’s poem about the Sixth Line of Ramsay (now called Quarry Road)? In the 1950s, he had a farm there. Other farms on the Sixth Line belonged to McNeely, Rintoul, Thom, Sadler, Burns, Henry, Hilliards, and a new German Family ( see note from Eleanor Rintoul at the bottom) whose name escapes my Mother.
He went by W.J. Burns. He was a 5th generation resident of Ramsay Township. Am attaching a picture of him. In 1990, my Uncle compiled a small booklet of poems written by W.J. & my Aunt. Cheers,
Sarah More
Photo- Jayne HenryPhoto Jayne Henry
*Eleanor Rintoul sent this to me.:
Hello Linda,
I’m married to a Rintoul from the 6th line and I have seen that poem before but it was good to be reminded of it.
I knew the German family as I had the two oldest children in school and I know when the Galbraith (S.S.# 5) closed so I thought I would fill in the blanks.
The school closed in 1968 the year Naismith School opened. (I might be off by a year.)
The German family were Matthias and Erma (or Irma) Hauch. I taught the two oldest children Achmed and Rosemarie.
The family moved to a farm near Chesterville and had three more children Harold, Susan and Sandy. I don’t know where they were living when these children were born — whether on the 6th line or after they moved to Chesterville.
Rosemarie was very involved in track and field at North ( or South) Dundas High school and went on to win many awards and trophies.
Check her out on Google.
Eleanor Rintoul
I was Eleanor Clapp when I taught at Galbraith and married Frank Paul (son of Norman Paul, whom I think you knew)
Looking for information about George Millar.. most likely from Almonte as thanks to Jim Houston I have a copy of a poem he typed in 1942 about the Almonte train wreck.
Almonte Wreck by George F. Millar Dec, 27, 1942
This is an original copy given to me from Jim Houston
I was feeling pretty low that night, and sort of on the shelf
For I was looking forward to getting back myself
When the telephone rang, and there was Tom, I could hardly believe my ears,
A terrible wreck, just happened now, the worst in years and years
The Sunday local on the CPR to Ottawa was starting back,
The night was dark, a dirty sleet was filling up the track,
Witch coaches full,packed in the aisle, of folk from far and near
Returning again to their varied jobs, to commence a brand new year.
From Petawawa down they took on load, as each station drew nigh
The platforms again were thronged with folk and baggage piled up high.
But little was thought amid the last farewells while some a tear would hide.
That the Angel of Death was lurking near, this is their long last ride
The train pulled into Almonte, oh how we know that town.
Sure we played Lacrosse and Hockey, the Valley up and down
But now we have a different scene, a headlight glares in the night
A troop train that had just caught up to a passenger train that was running slow,
A bang, a rip, a bang, a smash, how far will that ting go?
Oh duck, get down. Oh God what’s up, she yelled and grabbed a hand.
And in the seat behind, she saw a big black monster stand.
The engine plowed through coaches two, and stood now in the third from rear.
The coaches smashed to kindling wood, and a mass of twisted gear.
Some thrown beyond the mass of wreck, others mangled in the gear.
And then the ones all shaken up, kept searching in the debris near.
A dress, a doll, a compact small, a bra and undies too.
A coat that had a sleeve torn off, a leg in a bloody shoe.
The Almonte folk now joined the scene, their doors they opened wide,
A steady stream of wounded moved, from the wreck to the warmth inside.
A call for doctors, nurses too, went out on S.O.S.
But speed and all, to answer the call, saved neither Jean or Bess
Pillows, blankets, sheets and towels in haste pulled from the bed,
With never a thought a thought of their return, let’s cover up these dead,
And while we can, bring comfort to the wounded and the maimed
There was the spirit of Almonte to us their deeds are famed,
Before the doctor was in sight right on that very train,
There was a nursing sister brave, who kept so cool and sane.
To give first aid she had no kit, but her clothing she simply tore,
And used the strips for bandages, and saved so many more.
The Town Hall soon became a morgue, the Hospital over-flowed
And more and more picked from the wreck to be bandaged and some sewed
The night wore on, and it got late, for workers no relief,
And then the train for Ottawa bent, with its load of pain and grief,
Our hearts go out to all the folk whose homes are hit so hard,
We’re trying now to ease the load, by word, or deed, or card,
And there was he of the other train, who went through a little hell,
A few more runs and he’s be through, with a record clear as a bell,
And here he was, no fault his own, just seemed to be his rate,
For fortune deals some awful hands, that local just had to be late.
He thought so much of what others might think, and all that be said.
Our hearts go out to this poor guy, in this hour of grief,
But God above is God of Love, and HE will hold no brief,
But instead He’d say, you’ve naught to pay, your load was too much to bear,
It’s me in your need, yes tis indeed, for such is the Kingdom I bear.
Pte. F.R. Whitta gave up his shirt and tunic to make bandages and tourniquets, then aided doctors in surgery for hours in the falling snow. He and another soldier, Sgt. J.W. Gillespie, were awarded the British Empire Medal for their actions that night, while Lt. Nursing Sister Anne Thorpe received the Royal Red Cross, Second Class.
Birth of a Friendly Town-- Almonte Gazette July 30 , 1970 ( no author mentioned)
T ’was back in 1820 when the air was clear and bright, A brawny pioneer farmer stopped his wagon for the night. He kindled his cheery campfire to feed his hungry brood, And vowed he’d build a cabin on the very spot he stood. On the banks of the Mississippi, on a tract of government land, He built his homely hovel, with axe and sweat, so grand. He cleared his land for planting with mule and old grey mare, He plowed and tilled and worked it with tender loving care. His meagre supply of seedlings he spread upon the ground, He fished the brooks and rivers and hunted the woods around.
He sent word to friends and relations of the wonderful place he had, But with the lack of a woman’s company, his wife was very sad. As the years went by, his family grew, with neighbours all around, Where once there stood a lonely farm , had turned into a town. With neighbour lads they took the fish, both with line and spear, And all around this lonely place -was a friendly atmosphere.
The town it grew and friendliness was never left behind, The people in this little town, always seemed so kind. As homes sprang up with shops and stores, everything so grand, And all the people in the town to lend a helping hand. …. So from this campfire in the night, arose THE FRIENDLY TOWN, Our friendliness, it’s said, has spread for miles around. So why not come to ALMONTE and join in all the cheer. To have some fun and celebrate our 130th year.
We promise you our friendliness, has grown from year to year, The only thing we’re lacking is having you came here. So plan to come and visit us when summer rolls along. When we celebrate in ALMONTE, our friends can do no wrong
Mary Anne Harrison My grandparents, Jim and Cecelia Carroll lived just in front of the tower on Ottawa street. My uncle Emmett too. I have no doubt 1 or all 5 of my brothers climbed that tower at one time or another.
Peggy Byrne Yes it was a sad day. Lived for many years beside that tower and saw a few people climb to the top whenever the opportunity arose. Ronald Ford, you will remember the water house at the base of the tank where many residents that didn’t yet have running water in their homes went to fill up their containers – oh wait, maybe you’re too young for that….🤭
Ronald Ford I remember Dad would point it out at the Corkery hill. It was all long time ago. Tree grow a lot 66 yrs
We posted the photo of the 1993 water tower today– Dawn Jones fund This from the Millstone article in 2013.
Water tower slogan: still friendly, but not a town?
The Town recently announced that as part of the current cleaning and restoration of the water tower on Paterson Street, “the tower will also be refinished with a new white and blue colour scheme along with a rebranded logo,” approved by Town Council at a meeting on April 16 2013.
A rendering of this logo is available on the Mississippi Mills website. It shows that the decades-old slogan “Almonte The Friendly Town” will be replaced with simply “Friendly Almonte.”
I can see this, I suppose. Strictly speaking we are no longer a “town” — in the purely legalistic sense of the word — but rather a ward of the amalgamated municipality of Mississippi Mills.
But it does seem a pity to lose the slogan that has been welcoming people to our community for generations. We may not be a town as far as the provincial government is concerned, but we surely are in every other sense.
Out of interest I decided to search the online Almonte Gazette archive to find out how long we’ve been “The Friendly Town.” It appears the slogan was chosen sometime prior to March 1953 by the Chamber of Commerce for use in a promotional booklet. Link (story at top-left)
I also found a reference on Google Books, from a 1952 issue of Civic Administration magazine: “As you near the town, the first thing you see is a big steel standpipe jutting skyward above the leafy trees. On it in six-foot letters are the words, WELCOME TO ALMONTE The Friendly Town.”
Linda…I hope this message finds you well! When we were sorting through my mom’s things we came across a few boxes of my grandmother’s (Gladie Dowdall) that my mom hadn’t touched. In there was the CPHS graduation program from 1936 & 1937!! I emailed them to the museum earlier today. But THE absolute best find is the attached Poem written about “The Commercial” students for their 1937 graduation. Enjoy
0, peaceful dreamy town That nestles in the vale, _ With streets and homes so pleasant, And her people fair and hale And grand the scene about her That lends her charm and grace Amid the fairest beauty town Fair Almonte takes the place. The winding waters of her stream Come on serene and slow Till o’er the falls they grandly leap, and boil in foam below.
The silvery moon at even, · A street of silver lays Across the wind toss Across the bends and bays From many a height in Ramsay The town is seen afar, And each light looks at evening, Just like the evening star, While in ‘the moon tide brightness It seems to nestledown.
In the Mississippi Valley, Almonte, fair Almonte town. From just outside its borders, Is seen a distant view, The grand chain of Laurentians, Lie in a haze of blue, And the bright autumn colors, Less than fifty miles-away, Upon the mountain side are seen Upon a cloudless day
Around her here and there, In valley and on hill, Are wondrous woods and plains And rippling brooks and the river About the town so dangerous fair, Nature with lavish hand, Has spread out beauty everywhere, Oh Almonte fairest Almonte What ails thee at this time With power and beauty around thee Thou shouldest be in thy prime Wake from the dreamy slumber Arouse and take thy place, Add to your wealth and number And strike a progress pace. Written and composed by Agnes Whitelaw Boyce
Almonte