The following is a re-print of a past column by former Advertiser columnist Stephen Thorning, who passed away on Feb. 23, 2015.
Some text has been updated to reflect changes since the original publication and any images used may not be the same as those that accompanied the original publication.
This column during the past 12 months has featured the events of Wellington’s centennial year of 1954.
It has been pure history for some readers, and a prod to the memories of others. And for those of my age the material has fallen between the two: I have distinct memories of some of the things I have written about, but other subjects were new to me.
Generally, the mid-1950s was a time of optimism, as most people finally came to believe that the postwar prosperity was here to stay.
Consumers felt comfortable in spending a little more than in previous years, but the hard times of the 1930s and the war years were sufficiently close that the importance of goodwill to relations, friends and neighbours were not yet overpowered by consumerism.
The first half of December 1954 brought warmer weather than usual, which resulted in a slow start to the Yuletide mood.
The weather was so good that some gardeners still had bloom on roses at the beginning of the month. Mrs. Bert Weeks of Erin had hundreds of pansies blooming in her garden; she sent small bouquets to friends and neighbours as unusual Christmas gifts.
After Dec. 15 the thermometer took a dive, falling below zero on the old Fahrenheit scale (-18 Celsius) a couple of times in most localities, and a little below that in the north. There were bitterly cold east and north winds in the days leading up to Christmas, but only sufficient snow to set the proper mood for the holiday.
The sending of Christmas cards by mail became something of a fad in the early 1950s, and 1954 was close to the peak.
Christmas cards dated back into the 19th century, and their popularity continued and grew through the 20th century until the explosion of the 1950s. Consumers could purchase boxes of them, containing up to 50, at moderate prices. Postage on unsealed cards, with no letter inside, was two cents. At those prices, people sent greetings to everyone they knew.
Postmasters did not keep accurate counts of mail volumes in 1954, but the sale of two-cent stamps can be used as a guide. The Fergus post office sold 110,000 of them in the 10 days before Christmas. That works out to 31 cards sent for every resident of the town. The postmaster estimated that about half were sent out of town, with a similar volume of incoming cards.
Parcel volume increased several times beyond normal, with people mailing gifts to out-of-town recipients and receiving mail-order goods. On top of that, postal workers had to deliver mountains of Eatons catalogues, which hit the mail stream on Dec. 21. Workers put in long hours dealing with the deluge, and the motor cars of rural carriers left the county’s post offices each morning with spring-busting loads of mail.
Despite the workload, postal employees went out of their way to provide good service. For example, one card delivered to its recipient was addressed simply, “Grandma, Palmerston.” Clerks there noted the Kitchener postmark, then opened the unsealed card to see who sent it. With the first names of the children, they were able to identify the grandchildren of a local resident. Palmerston editor Art Carr thought it a piece of detective work worthy of the RCMP, but the workers shrugged it off as “all in a day’s work.”
Outdoor lights and decorations enjoyed a major boom in 1954. Fergus and a couple of other towns had strung coloured lights over the main street for several years, but in 1954 all the business centres in the county joined the trend. The new installation in Erin that year drew particular comment.
Merchants went out of their way to dress up their windows. Lloyd McHardy, the Fergus hardware man, won second prize in one of the Dominion-wide competitions among store owners. He claimed that his imaginative display of lighting fixtures doubled his sales volume that year.
At the same time, the placing of a large community Christmas tree was falling from favour. Fergus still maintained the practice in 1954, with a large tree placed in front of the library on St. Andrew Street. Homeowners joined the lighting trend as well. Outdoor Christmas lights on houses were a rarity in 1953. A year later dozens of homeowners invested in strings of coloured lights, which were a relatively costly item.
The other popular trend was the household Christmas tree. Only a fraction of households bothered with a tree in the first half of the 20th century, but that changed quickly in the early 1950s.
Jim Robertson of Fergus, a shoe store operator who sold Christmas trees as a sideline, moved almost 500 in 1954 – and Fergus had a population of barely 3,000 back then. Spruce was by far the dominant variety, but many people preferred the Scotch pine that were something of a novelty in 1954.
Some people preferred to cut their own tree, and a number of those did so illegally. Conservation areas, with their small trees in 1954, were victims, as were farmers who had planted evergreens.
One Fergus resident, laced with Yuletide eggnog, cut a tree on a property in West Garafraxa, but as he drove away he noticed a light in the rear view mirror. Convinced he was being followed, he drove around Belwood, then took a circuitous route home, all the while unable to shake his pursuer.
Finally he pulled over. The automobile that had been “following” him was his trunk light. He had escaped detection, but the episode rattled him so badly that he vowed in the future to acquire all Christmas trees legitimately.
An unfortunate episode marred the Christmas season for employees of the Wellington County Health Unit. They booked a banquet room at a large downtown Guelph hotel for their Christmas party. Everyone enjoyed a pleasant meal and social time, but several felt ill when they rose to leave, and within an hour all were violently ill. It was food poisoning.
The manager felt himself lucky that Guelph was not yet within the heath unit’s jurisdiction. As it was, he endured some bad publicity. No one became seriously ill.
Another embarrassing incident happened to one of the county’s doctors. His daughter grabbed a glass ornament and ate it, undoubtedly thinking it was some kind of candy. With the help of nurses at the local hospital, she disgorged the inappropriate snack with no ill effects.
Santa visited most of the towns in the county in 1954, but a week or two later than is the case today. On Dec. 11 he dropped in on 600 children gathered at Arthur’s town hall. They let out a deafening cheer when they spotted his red coat. All had a chance to meet him personally, and his assistants handed a bag of candy and an orange to each youngster.
Their parents, meanwhile, could shop in peace, and scoop up some of the clothing bargains at Sussmans.
On Dec. 17, the United Steelworkers sponsored a free skating show in the Fergus arena, starring a group from Galt. Santa appeared after the show for a party with the youngsters, and the passing out of gifts.
Santa stayed in the area overnight, and appeared the next afternoon downtown at an event sponsored by merchants. Afterwards, there was a free movie showing at the Grand Theatre.
As was often the case in Fergus those days, there were complainers. At the skating event, gifts were given to each union family, rather than each youngster. Those from large families felt cheated. There were also complaints about the free admission to the Grand Theatre. The feature showing that day was The Cruel Sea. Several people thought it an inappropriate choice both for children and for the Christmas season.
Yet another controversy erupted in one of the Fergus churches. Santa failed to appear at the annual Christmas program for children. One father, very upset about the disappointment of his children, was told that “Santa has no place in a Christian Christmas,” and that he represented a pagan aspect of the holiday.
Santa was much more Welcome in Erin on the morning of Dec. 18 for the village’s Christmas parade. By the standards of today it was a modest affair. Arthur’s high school band led the procession, followed by the Erin fire truck. There were only four floats that year, but everyone waved as Santa brought up the rear. After the parade he greeted the youngsters at the town hall, and an afternoon of cartoons concluded the event.
Not all the special events were for children. The Elora Players, forerunners of the Elora Community Theatre, staged a production of The Holy and the Ivy at the village’s armoury hall on Dec. 13 and 14.
On Dec. 17, the Arthur Legion held a Christmas dance, to music by Lang’s Orchestra of Kenilworth. About 200 couples showed up, many from a distance. A highlight was a midnight raffle of 20 turkeys.
The Korean War had ended only a few months before, with a rather shaky peace treaty, and a continued presence of Canadian military forces. Many expected hostilities to break out again. Pvt. Jim Macquarrie of Fergus arrived home on Dec. 17 for a 60-day leave after 14 months in Korea; he would be returning for another tour of duty.
Another Wellington County man, Gord Mooney, was on active duty, aboard the HMCS Huron, in waters off Korea during Christmas 1954. He wrote that “During the past few months, for the first time, I have witnessed the aftermath and results of war. In particular, the most pathetic situation in any country is the effect the children are subject to during the post-war period.”
He was deeply troubled by young orphans freezing and starving to death. Mooney made a special appeal for clothing and blankets. His letter helped mobilize local efforts by church and volunteer groups, and the result was a stream of parcels to welfare organizations in Korea. Those efforts began in the Christmas 1954 season, and continued into 1955.
For those managing a household budget, it is interesting to look at some of the prices 50 years ago. Those days, it should be remembered, most wages were in the range of $1 to $1.50 per hour. Turkeys in 1954 sold for 51 to 66 cents per pound, with smaller birds costing more per pound.
Large oranges were as low as 35 cents per dozen, and good grapefruit could be picked up for five cents each. Grapes sold before Christmas at 15 cents per pound. Some stores featured head lettuce at two for 29 cents – Romaine lettuce was then virtually unknown. A 24-ounce jar of raspberry jam was priced at 33 cents. Boxed chocolates sold for 79 cents per pound.
Those who sat down to Christmas dinner tables in 1954 could consider themselves lucky: despite international dangers in Korea and elsewhere, the coming year promised continued prosperity, and the table in front of them was laden with food, excellent in quality and in abundance.
*This column was originally published in the Wellington Advertiser on Dec. 24, 2004.
