Photo above is from the Brighton Digital Archive.

It was Friday, July 13, 1973 (yes it was a Friday 13th!) and I was sitting with some friends in the backyard of my grandparent’s house where I was staying. I was sixteen and spending the summer in Brighton where I was working at a couple of jobs.

We were watching the rather spectacular lightning and thunder show that seemed all around us even though it wasn’t yet raining. Aside from the thunder, we were surrounded by an eerie silence. But then the rain started – large hard drops beginning slowly but soon picking up speed and perhaps joined by some hail. We quickly headed to the west kitchen door (yes, we have two kitchens LOL) and I rushed to close the windows upstairs. Reaching the large bedroom in the southeast corner, I found the heavy area carpet flipped up over the beds and the curtains flanking the south window fluttering up near the ceiling. As I’m closing the heavy wooden sash windows of this home built in 1869 by my great-great-grandfather, I was greeted with an eerie greenish greyness that prevented any view of the century-old trees lining the street in front of the house – and of course, equally blocking sight of the homes across the street. This was accompanied by the ferocious howl of the wind – very accurately described as the sound of a freight train bearing down on you.

I heard a crashing sound of breaking glass somewhere in the house and immediately thought of the rather unique light fixture in the front hall. Having secured all the windows, I dashed down the front stairway to see both my grandparents trying to close the big wooden front door and added my weight to it until we could turn the old skeleton key to secure it.  I was relieved to see the light fixture still in place, although clearly it had been swaying precariously. My friends quickly noted that a shutter had blown through a window and as if there was still any doubt, I realized this was a tornado!

I strongly suggested we needed to get to the basement NOW!  My grandmother of course was more worried about items that might get damaged by the wind blowing through the broken window so while my friends help them to the basement, I rushed to put various lamps and other breakables on the floor. By the time I reached the basement, it was all over. Just 32 seconds we would find out later. The freight train was gone and in its place was a deep enveloping silence. No birds sang – just nothingness…

We more or less staggered out of the house, stunned by the view of massive trees felled all around us. In our backyard at the end of a short driveway had been a gigantic willow tree – big enough around for two people to just barely join hands. It was now lying along the length of the driveway and completely hiding my grandparent’s AMC Rambler from sight, with an eight-foot hole where the roots had been ripped out of the ground. The main street which our house faces was covered by century-old maple trees as far as we could see in both directions. The house beside us (also built by my great-great-grandfather) had part of its imposing tower lying in the front yard, and we realized how lucky we were to just have a broken window. Others were emerging now from their homes and cellars, all with stunned disbelief – I mean let’s face it, Brighton is not exactly in “Tornado Alley”!

I got my grandparents settled in the house and my friends and I headed off to check on some of my grandparent’s friends to make sure they were ok. Clearly many were in mild shock but none had been physically hurt and most had surprisingly little damage to their homes.

My friends and I returned to our homes. The power was out so I dug out a camp stove on which we managed a reasonable dinner as I recall (outside on a picnic table of course 🙂 )  We were startled at one point by the phone ringing. I guess we’d just assumed the phones were out as so many lines seemed to be down but apparently ours was still working and we were able to assume my parents in Toronto that while we were a bit shaken, we were all safe and sound.

Luckily it stayed daylight for much of the evening and within hours of the storm ending, the chainsaws started and would continue for weeks on end, echoing throughout the village. We eventually got someone to work on the willow tree covering the car and were amazed to find that most of the branches had fallen around it with only a small dent in the roof. We also realized that if the tree had fallen to the north or south, it would have crashed into either our house or the neighbour’s.

You can watch more about the tornado in this short documentary film prepared for the anniversary:

Within a couple of years, we planted three new maple trees on the front lawn and one in the back to replace the willow (how I hated raking willow tree leaves!) and they have all grown tall and strong. And the house continues as a family home to this day.

And in other less dramatic news…

On May 7th we celebrated my mother’s 90th birthday in the lunch room of the Trenton Memorial Hospital with balloons and cake and lots of my sisters and nephews and nieces. A few weeks later she was lucky enough to get a room in the Maplewood Nursing Home in Brighton – less than two blocks from their home which makes it easy for my father to visit her regularly.

On June 6th I attended a black tie dinner at Casa Loma on the anniversary of D-Day. This also launched the fundraising campaign for a trip to take 65 serving soldiers of the regiment to Juno Beach in 2024 for the 80th Anniversary (More about that here if you’d like to help support this event which is not funded by the Canadian Government.) In preparation for the dinner, I researched the sixty-one QOR soldiers who died on D-Day (plus one who died of his D-Day wounds the next day) and you can find all the profiles in a document on our museum website. The dinner was great but it took me a couple of days to physically recover as my stamina’s not exactly what it used to be.

Later in June, I had my every-three-month CT scans and MRI. The results were “stable”. I have to admit to being slightly disappointed there wasn’t any noticeable shrinkage in the tumour/lesions that still show up, but the oncologists seemed quite happy – they weren’t getting better and they weren’t spreading anywhere. The brain oncologist wasn’t even sure if the ones still showing in the brain were actually “active” or just the dead remains (my wording not hers but you get the drift.) So I can live with that – both figuratively and literally! 🙂

Meanwhile, I continue with the monthly immunology treatments at Princess Margaret Hospital. This also requires a trip to the hospital for pre-treatment blood tests and an appointment with my oncologist to confirm I’m good for the next treatment. Luckily it’s just five subway stops from home. The 45-minute IV drip in a comfortable recliner chair is fine – waiting for 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours to be assigned a chair is the worst part. Actually, the most painful part is tearing off the tape they put on my apparently hairy hand to secure the IV in place LOL.

I’ve probably said this before but compared to chemotherapy, I have relatively few side effects from my treatment. Muscle weakness is probably the worst, with some fatigue, lack of appetite and dry mouth, so I try not to complain.

I’ve been to Brighton on a couple of weekends over the last few months to hang out with my dad and visit my mum – always nice to get out of the city!

While in the city I attended one of the Fringe Festival productions – so nice to see so many annual events returning after COVID, and enjoyed a few dinners with friends.  I also got out one evening with our team of museum volunteers for a tour of the Soldier’s Tower Museum at the University of Toronto, courtesy of their board chair. I’m looking forward to co-hosting our first in-person meeting of the Toronto Military Curators’ meeting this week.

And when I’m not walking the dog, I’m still working on responding to our QOR Museum‘s research requests, processing archival material, digitizing documents, updating the financials, providing data for grant applications, writing blog posts, taking museum and archive-related webinars, and lots of other things I can do from home – anything to avoid that three-story climb to the physical museum!

Here’s hoping everyone is enjoying the summer – heat and all – and I’ll give another update when there is enough news to share 🙂