My brother-in-law recently gave me a tour of Timmins, Ont., to show me the new shopping malls, residential districts, the multi-million dollar hospital, new parks, and so on.
It was most impressive so, upon returning home, I reviewed my notes, pictures and old scrap book of Timmins as it was in the early 1930s. Timmins is now a modern city, but it may be of interest to illustrate the old town as it was almost 60 years ago.
There were cement sidewalks uptown and on streets leading to schools, but all streets were gravel-surfaced, with the main drag, Third Avenue, “oiled” during the summer to control dust.
The man most responsible for getting action in changing a gold camp into a respectable place to live and raise children was Leo Mascioli of Mascioli Enterprises. Leo was a non-stop dynamo, and while he did make some enemies along the way, he would rip into the town council whenever necessary and he certainly got action, one way or another. (Leo’s brother, Tony, was also an early force in the town’s history.)
Leo built a modern hotel near the train station and an up-to-date General Motors agency building (Timmins Garage Ltd.). He also built and operated movie theaters and had the Packard automobile agency.
Other than electrical power, Timmins was sorely lacking when it came to roads, water lines, storm and sewer lines, fire protection and an adequate police force.
The water system was started when Hollinger donated water from its pumping station at the river and Mascioli Construction installed the water mains. As hundreds of miners walked to work, Hollinger and Leo covered the cost of paving a wide pedestrian sidewalk from Timmins to the Hollinger office (still in place).
The battles with town council seemed endless, but Leo was adamant that the main street be paved and have storm sewers. Nothing was approved until Leo stated that his company would complete the main street at 5% over the actual cost.
There were few brick dwellings, most of the homes being of the cheapest possible wooden construction (and most had a second house at the rear of the lot). If a homeowner had a garage, it was usually made from flattened-out, cyanide drums obtained gratis at the mines.
The construction was wooden and the shavings were used by many people to insulate the walls of their homes; consequently, fires were commonplace. The original fire truck was very difficult to get started and missed a lot of fires over the years, but in 1932 the town bought a modern truck and in 1937 built a new fire hall for it.
Timmins was a boom town and certainly had its share of characters, including a mayor who operated a taxi business and eventually became a liquor salesman. I well remember buying one of his high-mileage 1931 taxis which, after some overhauling, I drove for three years.
The chief of police, when appointed, made headlines by booking his sister on prostitution charges; he also closed down his mother’s bootlegging operation. He was known as an “honest cop” and was highly thought of for cleaning up the police force and organizing sports.
The mines had large bunkhouses where all non-married miners were required to stay. Living in the old Paymaster bunkhouse, I clearly remember the “peddlers” who would open their cases near the big, pot-bellied stove and display their wares.
Issie was one such peddler-salesman. A fast-talking operator from Montreal, he only took orders for suits and overcoats and, when presenting his bill, would suggest that “grade would be satisfactory.” Issie operated a taxi and owned a brothel in town and when you ordered a new suit, you were entitled to one night on the house.
Checking back, I have to agree: what a difference almost 60 years makes. — A.E. Alpine, a frequent contributor to this column, resides in Boyertown, Pa.
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