The Horrors of Hurricane Hazel
Plus, Mary Ann Shadd turns 200, a remarkable tree seeks protection, and more...
It was on thsi night 69 years ago that Hurricane Hazel struck Toronto. So, for this edition of the newsletter, I thought I’d share an exerpt from The Toronto Book of the Dead: the story of that deadly storm and the horrors it unleashed in our city…
It rained and rained and rained. Day after day it rained, barely ever stopping — a thoroughly grey and soggy week in October of 1954. And as that week finally came to an end, it was raining even harder than before. By the time the city’s soaking commuters headed home on Friday evening — packed into damp streetcars and Toronto’s brand new subway line — the steady shower had grown into a torrential downpour.
Everyone knew the storm was coming. Scientists had been tracking it for ten days now — ever since a plane full of hurricane hunters first spotted it off the coast of South America. All week long, they’d been watching as Hazel made its way north, devastating every community in its path. On Tuesday night, the hurricane tore through Haiti, killing hundreds. On Wednesday afternoon, it hit the Bahamas and killed six more. On Friday morning, as people in Toronto settled in at work, Hazel was crashing into the coast of the southern United States. Dozens of Americans died over the course of the day. The storm cut a vicious swath through the Carolinas and up into Virginia. By dinnertime, Hazel was raging through the streets of Washington D.C.
But Toronto was protected: the Allegheny mountain range stood in the way. Meteorologists assumed the mountains would do what they usually did: push the hurricane to the east, away from the Great Lakes, or break it up as it passed over them. The last official weather report came out at 9:30 that night: Toronto would see high winds and maybe even record-breaking rainfall, but nothing like the destruction Hazel had unleashed farther south. The storm was losing stream.
By the time of that report, though, the flooding had already started. Hazel had made it past the mountains. The storm was now centred on Buffalo and still heading north. The rain kept hammering away at the city. The winds were picking up. Rivers and creeks — already swollen from the week of rain — were steadily rising.
On Raymore Drive in Etobicoke, a few locals began to walk up and down the street, warning residents they should head for higher ground. The quiet, residential road curved along the heights above the Humber River, down a hill, and onto the floodplain. A whole block was sitting at the bottom of the valley, just metres away from the angry river as it slowly but surely rose.
A few did head up the hill, taking refuge at the nearby Army & Navy Club. But many others stayed. Some had been living on the street for fifty years. They were used to a bit of flooding; it was inconvenient but nothing too serious. They weren’t worried, not even when the power went out. They went to sleep that night in their own beds, just as they always did.
Outside, in the dark, Hazel raged. The hurricane had slowed down on its way over the Alleghenies, but then it ran into a front of cold, Canadian air. As it reached the northern shore of Lake Ontario, the storm stalled — pausing above Toronto as the rain fell harder and harder, drenching the city below.
That night, a hundred and fifty billion litres of water fell into the Humber River’s watershed — hundreds of tons of rain — and the earth, already soaked to the point of saturation, couldn’t absorb any more. Almost all of it was being funnelled into the river. And so the river kept getting higher.
It only took a few minutes for the neighbourhood to flood. Raymore Drive was suddenly squarely in the middle of the Humber. The river roared like a freight train — the force of the water made even more powerful by tons of dirt and debris swept along in the current. Some witnesses remembered waves nearly two storeys high.
Homes were being pummeled. The nearby pedestrian bridge across the river was torn from its foundations and hurled into the street like a battering ram. Entire houses were knocked off their foundations. Walls were ripped clean off, living rooms and kitchens suddenly open to the air. Families scrambled in the dark, clutching flashlights, climbing up onto the roofs of their homes, clinging to TV antennas, screaming for help.
Some houses were carried away by the river. Others just disintegrated. Flashlights winked out as the buildings disappeared.
It was a fury unlike any the city had ever seen. All over Toronto, waterways were bursting their banks — the Don, the Rouge, Etobicoke Creek, Mimico Creek, Highland Creek — sending raging torrents of water flooding through residential neighbourhoods. Even the Garrison Creek — buried in a sewer for nearly a hundred years — was brought rushing back to the surface. In Trinity Bellwoods Park, people watched in astonishment as manhole covers went flying and geysers burst high into the air. Roads were destroyed, bridges washed away, homes flattened. Cars were plucked from the streets and hurled downstream. Trees snapped like matchsticks, smashing into houses. Downed hydro wires hissed and sparked in the dark.
People were dying. Still more found themselves stranded in the midst of angry, churning torrents. Some would spend the whole night desperately clinging to trees, soaked by the ice-cold water, suffering from exposure. Firefighters, police officers, and volunteers leaped into action — but many of them got stranded, too, or were swept away by a rush of water. A warning went out over the police radio: the currents were so strong that even big rescue boats were too dangerous to use.
Brian Mitchell, a volunteer firefighter who would eventually become the Etobicoke fire chief, was on Raymore Drive that night. “All hell broke loose,” he remembered years later. “People were screaming, ‘Save us.... Save us.’ We could get spotlights on them. We could see them ... but they were just so far out you couldn’t throw ropes.”
The rescuers did all they could, wading out into the wild river, but they were forced to turn back: the rushing water came all the way up to their chins.
“I felt so helpless.” Mitchell told the Toronto Star, “It was like something out of a Cecil B. DeMille movie. The incredible roar of the water, like the roar of Niagara Falls. It was a gigantic flood with smashed houses and uprooted trees bobbing like corks, everything going down the river so fast. Houses crashing into the sides of other houses, people everywhere screaming. And then you couldn’t even hear the screams anymore.”
John Neil came home to Raymore Drive late that night to find his whole street gone. Assuming his wife and three children had been evacuated, he joined the rescue efforts — it wasn’t until the next day that he learned they’d all been killed. His wife’s brother and family shared their duplex; all five of them were dead, too.
Tom McGarvey came home to find his family trapped in their house in the middle of the swirling river; he was so desperate to save them that a friend had to tie him to a tree to keep him from rushing out into the thundering white water. He watched, helpless, as his house was carried away — with his wife and two of his children inside.
Downriver, near Dundas Street, the Humber swamped a fire truck responding to a call — five firefighters drowned. At the Old Mill, the bridge was washed out — cars were driving straight into the river. At the mouth of Etobicoke Creek, a trailer park was swept into the lake. It was a night filled with horrors.
As dawn finally broke the next morning, survivors found an entire block of Raymore Drive had been wiped off the map. Sixteen houses were gone. In their place were tons of mud, boulders, and wreckage. Just a day earlier, Raymore had been a lovely residential road; now, it looked like the bottom of a riverbed. It would become known as “The Street That Never Was.”
The hurricane killed more than thirty people on Raymore Drive that night — dozens more across the rest of Toronto and the surrounding area. Neighbourhoods all over the region were in ruins, leaving thousands of people homeless, transformed into refugees overnight. The recovery effort would be massive: helicopters buzzed up and down the Humber valley; the military moved in with flamethrowers to burn the wreckage. Boy Scouts helped to search the valley for the missing, wandering through a surreal landscape of flooded streets and broken homes, passing dead cows and pigs stuck in trees. Schools, churches, and fire halls were turned into makeshift morgues. Bodies were being found for days. Rebuilding would take much longer than that; it was months before all the roads and bridges were repaired.
In the wake of the disaster, the city developed a groundbreaking new plan for flood control. They built dams and reservoirs and retaining walls, installed concrete channels, and redirected streams. Thousands upon thousands of acres of land were expropriated in order to turn Toronto’s floodplains into parkland. The city didn’t want anyone living there when the next big storm hit.
And so that’s what happened to Raymore Drive. Those houses were never rebuilt: the block that was once underwater is now home to Raymore Park, where children play on swings and race each other along the running trail. But not all the signs of Hazel have been completely erased. There on the banks of the river, you’ll still find the ruins of the original footbridge, battered and destroyed by the storm — a chilling concrete reminder of the horror that swept through Toronto on that terrible October night.
You can learn more about The Toronto Book of the Dead here. (You’ll find it availabe to buy from all the usual places, including your local bookstore.
Though I was born decades after it happened, the story of Hurricane Hazel has alwasy felt particularly close to home. My father was a teenager at the time and spent the next day searching for bodies along the river. I grew up in a house just a couple of blocks from that stretch of Raymore Drive, and spent much of my childhood playing in Raymore Park.
“A Supernatural History of Toronto” Begins October 25!
With the creepiest time of year upon us, I’m bringing back one of my most popular online courses… A SUPERNATURAL HISTORY OF TORONTO returns at the end of the month!
You can learn a lot about a city through the stories of the strange things said to lurk in its shadows. In four online lectures, we'll explore Toronto's past through tales of phantoms, monsters and mythical beasts. Whether it's the terrifying creature spotted in the tunnels beneath Cabbagetown, the sea serpent rumoured to live in the depths of Lake Ontario, or the ghosts thought to haunt many of our most fascinating buildings, the supernatural stories told about our city illuminate the history of the place we call home.
As always, paid subscribers to The Toronto History Weekly get 10% off my online courses! It’s just one small way of saying thank you. The newsletter is only able to survive because of those of you willing to support it with a few dollars a month. If you’d like to switch to a paid subscription, all you have to do is click the button below. Only about 4% of readers have made the switch so far, which basically means that with your subscription, you’ll be giving the gift of Toronto history to 25 other people:
I’m Sharing Stories from The Toronto Book of the Dead in a 200 Year-Old Post Office This Week!
October is always a busy season if you happen to be the author of a book called The Toronto Book of the Dead. And I’m thrilled the Town of York Historical Society has invited me to share some of my favourite stories from the book at one of our city’s most charming historic sites. This Thursday, October 19th at 7pm, I’ll be at Toronto’s First Post Office talking about the role changing attitudes toward death have played in shaping our city along with fascinatingly disturbing tales of everything from séances to executions to murder.
Last I heard, there were just eight tickets left — and that was a few days ago, so if you’re interested, make sure to grab yours quick!
I’m Telling Ghost Stories in a 200 Year-Old Tavern!
And that’s not all I’ve got planned for this October! On the weekend before Halloween, I’ll be telling Toronto ghost stories at Montgomery’s Inn. I can’t tell you how excited I am to spend a couple of eerie nights — and one family-friendly afternoon — sharing some of my favourite haunted tales in a place where people have been telling stories like these for nearly two centuries now. And I’m just part of the entertainment! Here’s the description from the event listing:
“Enjoy live music and haunting tales in the historic tavern. Creepy candlelit displays in the historic house will edify & terrify in equal measure. Food and drinks available for purchase from the bar. Enjoy some Halloween Fun.”
The event will be held on Friday, October 27 & Saturday, October 28 at 6:30pm as well as a family-friendly version (with the scare-factor turned down a bit and no alcohol) on Sunday October 29 at 4:30pm.
QUICK LINKS
The best of everything else that’s new in Toronto’s past…
TWO HUNDRED YEARS YOUNG NEWS — Mary Ann Shadd was the first Black woman in North American history to run her own newspaper. She founded The Provincial Freeman back in the 1850s, using it to fight for abolition and other causes. This week would have been her 200th birthday. Reanna Julien wrote about her legacy and how she’s remembered today for The Toronto Star. Read more.
Shadd also makes an appearance in our most recent episode of Canadiana here, which explores Canadian connections to the American Civil War.
TOUGH ELM NEWS — There aren’t many old elm trees in Toronto. By the 1960s, Dutch elm disease had killed off more than 90% of the American elms in our city. But one of the hardy survivors is still standing on Fennings Street near Trinity Bellwoods Park, a 150-year-old titan who might soon be getting heritage protection. Read more.
RENAMING STREETS NEWS — A new poll suggests most Torontonians support the plan to rename Dundas Street: 54% in favour, with 12% opposed. (And the idea still has high support — 42% in favour and 35% opposed — when respondents were given the estimated cost.) Read more.
TICKLE TRUNK NEWS — There’s a new documentary about Mr. Dressup, and Courtney Shea recently interviewed the director, Robert McCallum, for Toronto Life. Read more.
CONCRETE TURKEY NEWS — Robarts Library turns 50 years old this year; half a century of being one of the most beloved and despised buildings in the city. Talia Ricci dug into its history for CBC News. Watch it.
TORONTO HISTORY EVENTS
THE DON: INMATES, GUARDS, GOVERNORS & THE GALLOWS
October 19 — 7:30pm — Montgomery’s Inn — Etobicoke Historical Society
“Join writer and researcher Lorna Poplak as she presents the facts behind the Don Jail’s location and construction, and shares tales about inmates, guards, governors, gangs, officials, and even a pair of ill-fated lovers whose doomed romance unfolded in the shadow of the gallows. The illustrated talk will highlight the Don’s tumultuous descent from palace to hellhole, its shuttering and lapse into decay, and its astonishing modern-day metamorphosis.”
Members only; an annual membership is $25.
SCREENING: “STEADFAST: THE MESSENGER AND THE MESSAGE”
October 20 — 7pm — Papermill Theatre at Todmorden Mills
“The Honourable Dr. Jean Augustine is a Canadian icon who broke barriers and fought for social justice. Be inspired by this documentary film capturing Dr. Augustine’s journey from her humble beginnings in Grenada, West Indies, to her numerous achievements and accolades after immigrating to Canada in 1960. Q&A session with Dr. Jean Augustine and Director Fahim Ali follows the film.”
Free with registration!
A NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM
October 20 — 7pm — Toronto’s First Post Office — Town of York Historical Society
“Join Toronto’s First Post Office & special guest, Richard Fiennes-Clinton, as we experience the museum after hours with a presentation on the traditions surrounding the Victorian culture of death and dying & the spread of spiritualism in Toronto with a look at the rising popularity of capturing ghosts on film! You’ll also craft your own Victorian mourning wreath to take home and display in plenty of time for Hallowe’en. All materials are included in the ticket price.”
$11.98 for members; $17.31 for non-members.
A GHOSTLY WALK THROUGH OLD TOWN
October 21 (7pm) & October 27 (10:30am, 7pm) — Toronto’s First Post Office — Town of York Historical Society
“Brave the darkness as we head into the city to explore the ghostly haunts of the Old Town of York, and hear tales of dread and mystery from those who walked Toronto's streets before us. The walk will proceed rain or shine, so please dress for the weather. All tours will start at Toronto's First Post Office and end at Campbell House Museum. Pre-registration is required and spots are limited!”
$11.98 for members; $17.31 non-members
SILENCE TO STRENGTH: A CONVERSATION WITH CHRISTINE MISKONOODINKWE SMITH
October 26 — 6:30pm — Online — Toronto Public Library
“From the 1960's through the 1980's, many Indigenous children were taken from their communities and placed in non-Indigenous homes. The programs and policies that enabled child welfare authorities to do this is referred to as The Sixties Scoop. In this Live & Online program, author, editor, and journalist Christine Miskonoodinkwe Smith discusses her work in shedding light on this period.”
Free!
THE TORONTO BOOK LAUNCH FOR “101 FASCINATING CANADIAN MUSIC FACTS”
October 26 — 6:30pm — West End Phoenix (3 Barlett Ave.)
“Did you know that Serena Ryder played the quietest concert ever from the ocean floor during low tide at Fundy National Park? Or that “I’ll Never Smile Again,” the hit that launched Frank Sinatra’s career, was written by Toronto pianist Ruth Lowe? What about 12-year-old Liberty Silver singing in a reggae band that opened for Bob Marley at Madison Square Garden? Did you know that the title of the Tragically Hip’s 1991 album, Road Apples, is not talking about apples? In 101 Fascinating Canadian Music Facts, author and historian David McPherson shares these and 97 other tales gathered from his more than 25 years working in the music industry.”
THE CULTURAL VALUE OF NORTH YORK’S SUBURBAN HOUSES
October 26 — 7:30pm — Online — North York Historical Society
The single-family houses of Toronto's former boroughs are often thought to lack both architectural merit and heritage value. Alessandro Tersigni, researcher at the Architectural Conservancy of Ontario's Toronto branch, will offer a different perspective on suburban homes by showcasing a nine-month project documenting over 2,000 detached houses built in North York between 1940 and 2000, including the "victory homes" built after WWII. Alessandro recently wrote an article for the Toronto Star in which he advocated for different thinking about the cultural value of architecture.
Free with registration!
AFTER DARK TOURS: LANTERN TOURS AT FORT YORK
Various dates until October 28 — 7:30pm — Fort York
“Hear chilling and eerie tales on a lantern tour of Fort York and its historic surroundings. Learn about a haunted lighthouse and the bloody Battle of York. Explore the military burial ground. Tour the creepy shadows and 200-year-old buildings of Fort York at night and learn of the fort's history and its many paranormal mysteries.”
$17.70
THE PEOPLE OF PARK LAWN CEMETERY WALKING TOUR
October 28 & 29 — 1pm — Toronto Cemetery Tours
Chantal Morris, who led the wonderfully strange tour of Mount Pleasant Cemetery during my Festival of Bizarre Toronto History last spring is debuting a new tour this month: “Park Lawn Cemetery is an oasis in the West End of Toronto complete with lush greenery, meandering walking paths, and even a herd of deer. Its grounds also contain the earthly remains of some well known - and less well known - Toronto residents whose stories helped shape our city and our country.”
Free! (Tips accepted.)
GHOSTS, GRIEF & CAVADERS TOUR
October 29 — 7pm — Muddy York Walking Tours
“Take a stroll through Toronto’s central university campus. We’ll get away from the crowds and slip into the dark, tree lined paths. Once there, we’ll explore the most macabre of Victorian mourning traditions and talk about medical practices and body snatchers. But we’ll also share in the stories of some of Toronto’s most infamous ghosts. These include a murderous, loved crazed stonemason, a sinister baker who locked up his love interest, and a poor, spooky, little ghoul whose been lost and on her own for over 100 years.”
$15
AFTER DARK TOURS: THE DEARLY DEPARTED AT SPADINA MUSEUM
Various dates until October 31 — 7:30pm — Spadina Museum
“The Dearly Departed is a nighttime experience that explores the relationship of death and spiritualism against the atmospheric backdrop of Spadina Museum. Travelling through time, the visitor will experience how the generations of families like the Austins mourned their dead. Stories of the departed, and their lingering spirits will echo throughout the darkened halls.”
$25
THEY WALKED THESE STREETS, WE WILL REMEMBER THEM
November 1 — 8pm — Swansea Town Hall & Online — Swansea Historical Society
“Join us at Swansea Town Hall [or online] to learn more about our courageous and brave young people who served during WWI and WWII and also walked these streets before us. Bloor West Village residents and high school teachers, Katy Whitfield and Ian DaSilva, created ‘They Walked These Streets, We Will Remember Them,’ an interactive soldiers memorial. The initiative commemorates local residents, including those from Swansea, who served in the First and Second World Wars and who never returned home.”
AAZHGEMOG-CROSSROADS PRESNTED BY ANDREW McCONNELL
November 2 — West Toronto Junction Historical Society
“The land of the Junction was a crossroads long before the railroads were built. Many Anishinaabe have passed through this land, whether it was defending their allies, moving between early settlements, or passing from one lake to another. This presentation will look at some of the more famous people from the time of early English settlement through the beginning of Anishinaabe resistance to encroachment on their lands and unfair treatment by government agents. It will look at how this place is also a crossroads between the past and the present Anishinaabe settlements north and west of Toronto, a testament to the continuous presence of Indigenous people on these lands.”
I've always felt close to Hazel too. My aunt and uncle lived near the Humber and my dad was living with them. Thankfully they were on the high ground off of South Kingsway.. My father was also a teenager and he described how long it took his sister to get home in the rain, and how the rain just wouldn't stop. I still have a copy of Betty Kennedy's book on Hazel and every time I go down there to paddle I look at the high water mark on the bridge.
I got into a discussion in a comment section on a video about flood mediation with an American who was claiming that planning for floods was foolish and there was no problem with development on a flood plain. So I told him about how people died during Hazel and how thanks to flood planning we won't see something like that again. That shut him up.
I saw the Mr Dressup documentary at TIFF and everyone should see it.