Elizabeth Carter, a deaf person's life in Guelph

The year 1936 was a good one for the Evangelical Church for the Deaf (United) at 56 Wellesley street (east; since demolished) in Toronto. Samuel Carter, former Mayor of Guelph and M.P.P. for Wellington South, had donated $25,000 to establish an endowment for the institution. Furthermore, the church had inducted its first minister who could communicate in sign language, Rev. Alec MacGowan, also formerly of Guelph. Curiously, neither Mr. Carter nor Rev. MacGowan were deaf. How, then, had both come to take such an interest in this service for deaf Ontarians?

(Evangelical Church for the Deaf, courtesy Toronto Public Library Archives tspa_0111020f.)

It is hard to know for certain, but it may well be that the answer lies with the recipient of the Easter postcard below:

The card was postmarked in Guelph on 7 April 1917 with the following message:

Hello Lizzie! // Thank you for remembering me in Fathers letter. How are you? I hope you have a joyous Easter you’ll soon be coming home. Ruby & the baby are coming home in May, so I am busy. Fond love, Selina

I am not sure who Selina and Ruby were, but Lizzie refers to the addressee of the postcard, Miss Elizabeth Carter, resident at the Institute for the Deaf in Belleville, Ontario. Miss Carter was a daughter of Samuel Carter and a pupil at the school. I suspect that Miss Carter accounts for her father's and Alec MacGowan's interest in the deaf.

Elizabeth Carter was born on 30 May 1899 to Samuel and Emma Carter of Guelph. Samuel Carter (usually known as Sam) was from a family of weavers of Ruddington, England, and immigrated to Canada in 1882, where he was a founder of the Royal Knitting Company. In 1898, the Company's factory was located on Norwich Street near Cardigan (now a condo building).



Besides being a prominent business person, Sam Carter was an active member of Dublin St. Methodist (later, United) Church and took part in political life. As an Alderman and Mayor, Carter promoted public ownership of utilities, such as the Light and Power Company and the city's street car system. He was elected as M.P.P. in 1914 and ran unsuccessfully for federal office in 1921.

(Samuel Carter, courtesy Wikimedia Commons, Fair use, Link)

Records of Sam Carter's life are reasonably plentiful but records of Elizabeth's life are not, so we must make do with snippets such as the postcard above. For example, the Sessional Papers of the Ontario Parliament record that Lizzie Carter was a pupil at the Ontario Institution for the Education of the Deaf and Dumb in 1909. Similar records suggest she attended that school through at least 1917. This school still exists and is now known as the Sir James Whitney School for the Deaf in Belleville. A postcard from ca. 1910 gives an idea of what Elizabeth Carter knew as her home away from home:

(Courtesy Toronto Public Library Archive PC-ON 183.)

The school was founded in 1870 as part of the new Province of Ontario's effort to provide education broadly for all its young citizens. When Elizabeth came along, it was the obvious place for her family to send her to school, as Guelph had no similar facilities. The Institution was a boarding school, so Elizabeth was away from her family a fair amount at an early age, which was no doubt stressful for her. As illustrated above, her family and friends sent her postcards to stay in touch. I have three in my collection, including the one above and the following:

This card was sent to Lizzie on 23 May 1913 by her sister, Edith, along with the following message:

Dear Lizzie // Just a card to tell you I’m going to Laconte to-morrow to see Josephine. I will remember you to her. Tim (??) & Alex & Fred are all playing foot-ball to-night. Will take you up to see them when you come home. With love, Edith

The card is a generic one that was likely used for cities all over the continent, so it likely does not show a local geographic feature. It was just a cheap and accessible way to stay in touch.

Ellis (2019, p. 128) notes that the method of instruction typical of the time was oralism, that is, teaching lip reading and speaking to the exclusion of sign language. Reasons for the approach stemmed from what was seen as an overriding need to integrate deaf people in to the general population by conforming to common practices, which did not include learning of sign language:

Bolstering pure oralism were eugenicists, nativists, progressives, and many medical professionals. They feared the expansion of a deaf community that used only sign language and intentionally separated itself from hearing people, disdained signing deaf people as backward, or viewed deafness as a pathological condition that needed modern medical treatment. Pure oralism, used in day school classes in public schools, was presented as a powerful corrective to these problems." Palen wrote that speech and lip-reading instruction represented "the making of the deaf child a part of the community, instead of apart from the community."

A fascinating overview of instruction at the Institution from 1925 is available. It displays the oralist approach to teaching and suggests how Elizabeth Carter was educated during her time there. Appropriately, the film is silent.



(Courtesy of the Library and Archives of Canada.)

In spite of this education, Elizabeth Carter did learn sign language, which students used to communicate with each other outside of their classrooms.

(Emphasis on teaching sign language to deaf pupils is known as manualism and is now normal practice in schools for the deaf.)

Although he was not deaf, Rev. MacGowan learned it also, perhaps because of Elizabeth herself.

Alexander MacGowan Jr was born in 1887 in Stirling, Scotland. Alex MacGowan Sr, a weaver, immigrated to Canada with his family in 1903 and found employment as a foreman at the Guelph Carpet Mills on Neeve street just south of the Speed River.

(Guelph Carpet Mills, courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 1978.29.8.2.)

It seems that Alex MacGowan Jr worked in the factory until the early 1910s, when he decamped for the University of Toronto, graduating with a degree in the Arts in 1919 and in Theology from Victoria College in 1921 (Globe, 4 July 1936). Perhaps through connections in the local weaving industry, MacGowan met the Carter family and took an interest in Sam Carter's daughters. Indeed, he may be the football-playing Alex mentioned by Edith in her postcard to Elizabeth in 1913. Evidently, Edith was impressed and became Mrs. Alex MacGowan on 9 June 1921. In 1936, he became the sign-language-using minister of the Evangelical Church for the Deaf in Toronto. Since neither he nor Edith were deaf, it is likely that his interest in the matter stemmed from his sister-in-law, Elizabeth. No doubt Sam Carter's own interest in the same church, and its new minister, were due to the same reasons.

Elizabeth Carter's doings after graduation from the Institute are not easy to trace. Tidbits come periodically from the social column of the "Deaf-mutes' Journal", a weekly publication for deaf readers that featured a "Canadian News" section. As the daughter of a prominent Canadian, news about Elizabeth appears periodically in its pages.

The first mention comes in the 25 July 1925 issue:

While Mr. and Mrs. William P. Quinlan were lately in Elmira, they called on Mr. and Mrs. Roland Hillis to meet Mrs. Quinlan’s schoolmate, Miss Elizabeth Carter, of Guelph, who with her mother, was visiting her sister, Mrs. Hillis, at that time, and all were delighted to meet each other.
…
Miss Elizabeth Carter and her mother, of Guelph, are spending the summer at that well known summer resort, Grimsby Beach.

From the 22 July 1926 issue, we learn that Miss Carter shared the fashion sense typical of a young woman her age:

Miss Elizabeth Carter, of Guelph, was a guest of Miss Margaret Golds for several days, prior to the latter’s recent marriage and helped the bride-to-be to prepare her trousseau for the big event on June 24th.
…
Miss Elizabeth Carter, of Guelph, is now one of our bobbed hair flappers.

A new figure in Elizabeth's story appears in the column of the 23 January 1930 issue:

Miss Elizabeth Carter, of Guelph, and Mr. Alfred Pemphrase [sic], of Windsor, were in this city [Toronto], over the New Year’s recess, wishing their many friends the season’s compliments.

In such a gossipy column, the fact that Miss Carter and Mr. Penprase are keeping company seems to have special significance, even though nothing is said explicitly.

Both are mentioned together again in the 16 April 1931 issue:

We were so pleased to have these two smiling ladies from Guelph, the Misses Elizabeth Carter and Mary McQueen, in our midst over Easter. The former’s father, Mr. Samuel Carter, former mayor of Guelph and M.P.P. for South Wellington, as well as her sister and brother-in-law were also with us. As was Mrs. Alfred Penprase, of Windsor.

Mr. Alfred Penprase was born in 1897 in Elmstead, near Windsor, Ontario. He and his elder sister, Ruth, were both deaf and both attended the Institute in Belleville. Alfred and Elizabeth were there at the same time, implying that they were then acquaintances, at least.

It seems that Mr. Penprase returned to Windsor after his studies and tried his hand at various jobs. The Deaf-Mutes' Journal of 14 May 1931 makes the following observation:

After our Bible conference at Easter, Mr. Alfred Penprase, of Windsor, remained here [Toronto] to look up some means to prepare himself for the future, and now he is taking a course in the art of linotyping and likes it fine. Whenever there is a meeting at our church, you are sure to meet Alfred’s genuine smiles and warm handshake.

What would cause a young man to turn his thoughts to preparations for the future?

Mr. Alfred F. Penprasa [sic] first appears in the Guelph City Directory in 1933. The following year, Mr. Alfred Penphrase [sic] appears with the occupation of poultryman. In the 1935 directory, he appears as Mr. Alfred Penphrase [sic] (Elizbth), meaning he had a wife named Elizabeth, and then resided at 245 Dublin Street, the Carter home. Elizabeth Carter became Mrs. Alfred Penprase on 24 September 1934 and the couple moved into Mr. & Mrs. Samuel Carter's residence, where Elizabeth had remained.



The last mention of the Penprases in the Deaf-mutes' Journal (17 February 1938) that I know of says the following of the new couple:

From Guelph blew in Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Penprase for a short visit with friends. Mrs. Penprase, to convince some of her skeptical friends that her home town is much colder than it is here [Toronto], went and got herself a beautiful fur coat. Ensconced in cold-proof apparel she returned home with a song on her lips to know she can now battle King Winter on even terms.

Alfred and Elizabeth continued living in the house after the deaths of Elizabeth's parents.

Though not detailed, this glimpse into the life and times of Elizabeth Carter invites us to consider what the Guelph and Ontario of former times was like to someone who experienced it from an unusual perspective.

Elizabeth died in 1968 and is memorialized at the Carter family plot in Woodlawn Cemetery along with Alfred.

Xmas at Tiffany's, 1910

The Xmas season is upon us once again and memories of times past return to mind. Some of these glances back are prompted by ephemera like postcards. Below is picture of an Xmas message printed on a festive greeting card:

In some ways, the card is easy to understand. It conveys a common message, wishes for a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, accompanied by picture of candles and festive plants in the shape of a wreath. It also gives the names "Mr. and Mrs. Thomas R. Logan," who are presumably the senders of the good wishes, and the address 12 Tiffany St. East in Guelph. Although it is not a postcard nor a folding Christmas card of the common type, it seems straightforward enough.

The location of 12 Tiffany Street East is easy enough to find with Google Street View:



The house is an example of the Queen Anne revival style, built in the late 1800s, likely at about the same time as its two neighbours closer to Woolwich Street.

However, Mr. & Mrs. Thomas R. Logan remain something of an enigma. No Guelph address book that I have consulted lists them, and their name never appears as residents of 12 Tiffany Street East. The card does have the text "$1.00 per dozen" written in the bottom right corner, suggesting that it may be a salesman's sample. Perhaps Mr. & Mrs. Logan were printers and this card is an advertisement.

So, instead of discussing the Logans, we can discuss Tiffany Street. According to Irwin (2008), the street was named after George Tiffany, the man who carried out the first survey of the Guelph town plot in 1827 at the direction of its founder, John Galt.

George Sylvester Tiffany was born in 1805 in Schohaire, New York and moved with his family to Upper Canada in 1812. He studied to become a land surveyor and the job with the Canada Company in Guelph must have been one of his first gigs (Tiffany 1901, pp. 45–46). Apparently not satisfied with this profession, he studied law and became a lawyer and relocated to Ancaster in 1836. During the Upper Canada rebellion of 1837, Tiffany went to Toronto under the command of Sir Allan Napier McNab to put down the revolt. He later became a reeve and then the second mayor of Hamilton.

A.E. Byerly (1935, p. 73) points out that, in 1836, Tiffany married Eliza Ann Strange, daughter of Henry Strange, a former governor of Demerera, West Indies, and who was an important figure in early Guelph history and an occupant of the Priory for a time. He went on to found Strange's Mills, now Rockwood, near Guelph.

Both men were immortalized in Guelph's street names. As with with their namesakes, Tiffany street and Strange street intersected. Strange street was the segment of what is now Dufferin Street, reaching from Kerr Street to Clarence Street, parallel to the river. Tiffany Street East spanned the block from Woolwich to Strange Streets. See the map below.

(The intersection of Tiffany Street East and Strange Street, inside the oval, Wellington County Atlas 1877.)

Both streets have since been changed. As Irwin (2008) notes, street names were not much regulated in Guelph's early years, resulting in some peculiarities. For example, Strange Street continued Mill Street from the south and was itself continued by Dufferin Street to the north, making three streets out of one continuous roadway that spanned only a few blocks. In 1907, the Post Office Department threatened to delay door-to-door delivery until confusing street names and numberings were sorted out. Several streets were rationalized in 1910. At this time, Mary Street, which continued Tiffany Street from Strange Street to the Speed River, was eliminated in favor of more Tiffany Street East.

However, it was not until 1956 that Strange Street was eliminated in favour of Dufferin Street. The name Strange Street can still be seen engraved in the sidewalk at the intersection of Dufferin and Powell Streets.

In view of the extension of Tiffany Street East in 1910, it seemed appropriate to look into what was happening in Guelph during Christmas time of that year.

The year 1910 was an important one for several Guelph institutions. The Armouries on Huskisson Street (now Wyndham Street South) were completed. Construction began on the Ontario Reformatory, then commonly known as the Prison Farm, on York Road just east of town. Today, its is known as the York Lands Green Hub.

However, perhaps the biggest change was the arrival of Niagara power.

Before its adoption, electricity in Ontario was typically provided by small, local outfits, either local utilities or generators purchased by companies to run their factories. However, with the development of large hydropower generating stations such as those at Niagara Falls, there was a considerable push to establish what later became known as "the Grid", that is, a publicly-owned, province-wide system of electricity generation and distribution. This effort was led by Adam Beck, a graduate of Rockwood Academy, who was later knighted for his efforts. The chief advantage of this system was to provide electricity broadly across the province, in abundance, and cheaply.

(Sir Adam Beck, as Mayor of London, 1902; Courtesy London Room Photograph Archives - PG F191.)

Niagara power was first connected to Guelph's electricity grid in September of 1910, and adopted industrially by the Taylor-Forbes plant in November. The transition did not go smoothly at first. On 4 December, a generator at the City's Light and Heat Commission (L&HC) blew out, leaving the residential area of Guelph in darkness. Manager John Heeg explained that the strain of serving the extra demand for lighting at the annual Winter Fair had proved too much for the Commission's ancient generators (Mercury, 5 December). For some years, in anticipation of Niagara power, the City had ceased to upgrade its own equipment and was now paying the piper.

The residential lights went out again the next night as another old generator bit the dust (Mercury, 6 December). Manager Heeg repeated his previous explanation. Also, he promised to expedite work on getting the new power substation up and running, which would allow the city to access enough Niagara power to make up for the shortfall in expired generators.

Of course, this work was tricky, as the substation had to transform electricity transmitted at 2,200 volts to 100 volts and 60 Hz, which was the new standard for domestic use. Furthermore, the new power configuration would mean that many people's old fans and other equipment would no longer function, since they were designed for the 125 Hz power previously provided by the city. Still, some power would be better than no power in mid-December.

Manager Heeg also urged the good citizens of Guelph to moderate their demand for electricity so that the remaining equipment might survive until Niagara power could be brought fully to bear.

Unfortunately, the Royal City's power woes continued to mount. On 8 December, the lights went out again although this time on Wyndham Street and in many of the city's factories. Blackouts continued each evening. On 10 December, the lights went out three times!

Complaints were beginning to mount and Samuel Carter, Commissioner of the L&HC, gave a statement to the press (Mercury, 12 December): The City continued to experience difficulties with its ancient generators. Furthermore, Guelphites had not moderated their demand for electricity. If anything, demand continued to increase.

The LH&C had pressed its new substation into service to meet the emergency. However, the new equipment had not been properly checked out and broken in, and so failed after only a few hours of operation. The LH&C pressed its reserve generators into service. Alas, these also failed to perform. These generators had been exposed to a lot of dust as a result of an earlier fire in the substation and their bearings quickly seized up. Five out of the city's six generators were now out of commission.

Then, for the coup de grâce, the power feed from Niagara failed. The cause of this disconnection was not entirely clear, although speculation was that high winds in the Niagara region were playing havoc with the power lines there (Mercury, 14 December 1910). Adam Beck assured Ontarians that these glitches would be worked out and, after a few days, the juice did seem to flow consistently (Mercury, 19 December 1910). The Royal City's factories continued to hum and its businesses were able to carry out their Christmas trade even after dark.

Many seasonal items were available for the delectation of Guelph shoppers. The D.E. Macdonald store on Macdonnell Street featured "everything in Xmas presents for everybody," especially Christmas furs. C.W. Kelly's music store had a deal on Victor & Berliner's "Victrola" gram-o-phone record players plus many records to play on them. The Bond Hardware store offered a wide selection of sleighs.

Perhaps the best gift notion was proposed by the Gowdy Bros. company on the Market Square, which placed the ad below in the Mercury's Christmas extra issue:

Who wouldn't want a ton of coal for Christmas? In an era when houses were often heated by coal stoves and furnaces, the connotation of receiving Lehigh and Scranton's anthracite from St. Nick would have been different than it is today. (In fact, coal was only just becoming a punitive gift at the time.)

Of course, there remained the problem of what to get for the person who has everything. In this case, the Guelph School of Telegraphy in St. George's Square had the perfect suggestion (Mercury, 21 December 1910):

Give your son or daughter a course in telegraph operating for Xmas. It will be an everlasting reminder and benefit to them.

If the gift card were spelled out in Morse code, the recipient would have to take the course to truly appreciate it.

For provident souls who had done their shopping, Griffin's Opera House on Wyndham street had a special entertainment treat in store (Mercury, 19 December 1910). For a warm up, they had three great reels of moving pictures straight from the Edison, Essanay & Selig factories. After that came the Thaten Duo, featuring real Holland wooden shoe dancing and singing, straight from Rotterdam! For versimilitude, the act featured backdrops of quaint scenes from old Holland, presumably including dykes and windmills.

I like to think that the act looked something like this:



Finally, patrons would be amazed at the Kols Brothers, vaudeville contortionists widely known as the Human Serpents!

As today, turkey featured prominently in plans for the holiday season. Perhaps mindful of what happened to Ebenezer Scrooge in Dickins' "A Christmas Carol," J.W. Lyon, then President of the Board of the Radial Railway (the streetcar) gave each married man among its employees a turkey for Christmas (Mercury, 22 December 1910). The single men each received a box of cigars instead. Clearly, cooking a turkey was more than could be expected of any bachelor.

The Mercury also contained some more surprising, turkey-related news (22 December 1910):

Jarvis, Ont., Dec. 22—The body found in a barrel in Montreal yesterday labelled "turkeys" was that of Matthew Johnston, caretaker of the Presbyterian church here. He was buried November 18th, and when the grave was opened this morning, the body was found missing. The casket had been cut and the corpse dragged out. John McSorley, formerly a medical student and eccentric character, is held here by the police.

Apparently, Mr. McSorley's eccentricities included resurrectionism, that is, digging up fresh corpses to sell to medical schools for doctor training. Montreal was a frequent destination for the proceeds of this practice (Belyea, 2016), although shipping "turkeys" all the way from Jarvis seems exceptional.

What Guelphites of the day or you, dear reader, should make of these two, turkey-related tales I leave for you to determine.

Happy holidays!

Old Home Week, 1913 - the preparations

One hundred years ago, one of the biggest occasions for the city of Guelph was Old Home Week. Old Home Week was a celebration in which former residents of Guelph were invited to return to the city to join in festivities arranged in their honour by residents. The custom originated in New England in the late 19th Century when Frank Rollins, a successful entrepreneur in Boston, returned to his native New Hampshire to run for governor. After his election, he decided that many former residents of the state shared his nostalgia for it, and arranged a homecoming for them in 1899. The event was so well received that the idea spread to neighbouring states and provinces, giving rise to many Old Home Weeks and Old Home Days (Daniell 2000, pp. 356-357). Guelph held its first Old Home Week in 1908 and, since it was such a hit, residents decided to do it again in 1913.

In 1913, Old Home Week (also known as "Old Boys Reunion" to some) took place during the last week of July, that is, Sunday July 27 through Saturday August 2. Many of the stationary stores in the city did a brisk business in postcards among other items during that stretch, as visitors wanted to share their experiences with folks who did not attend. One such postcard is shown here:

This postcard was published by The International Stationary Co., Picton, Canada, my favourite source for photos of Edwardian Guelph. It shows three ladies enjoying a leisurely row on the river. I am not sure where the photo was taken, but the growth suggests a more rural area, perhaps even the Eramosa River near Victoria Landing, where there was a boating club.

In any event, the postcard is postmarked on August 1, 1913 and has a special cancellation stamp made up for the occasion, as you can see in the upper right corner on the back of the card.

The cancellation stamp says, "Guelph’s Old Home Week 1913 July 28 Aug 2". According to the Canadian Philatelic Society of Great Britain, these "slogan cancellations" became a popular device in 1912, and remained so for a number of years.

The message on the back of the postcard is of the usual having-a-good-time variety, apparently referring to the celebrations in town:

Well I suppose you are going on your trip. Hope you have a good time. I am just having a great time. Love to all the girls. Nita

Interestingly, I have another postcard addressed to Miss Ida Fissette in my collection, dated in 1908 and addressed to her in Simcoe.

Preparations for the event were extensive and expectations were high. On July 4, the Mercury reported that the executive committee had met and felt enthusiastic about the prospects for the event...

... and expressed the hope that every citizen would take right hold and make the reunion a great advertisement for the city as well as a time of pleasure in the meeting of old friends...

In modern terms, then, the party was not just for old time's sake but to burnish the brand of Guelph in the region. To this end, the committee had made special arrangements at the "Toronto end", which go unexplained. I assume they made a special effort to get former Guelphites from Toronto to make the trip. However, I can find no mention of Guelph's Old Home Week in the Toronto Star or the Globe.

The Mercury also makes special note of the hot weather, which persisted through the month.

Soon, city businesses began to advertise special sales for the event. On July 16, Charles Nelles (who happened to be the treasurer of the executive committee) began to advertise decorations, namely flags and "Chinese lanterns". I suspect the latter term refers to paper lanterns in the form of a ball and illuminated by an electric light. On July 21, George E. B. Grinyer advises his patrons to "Have your electrical decorations done early: We can do your work at once; next week, we'll be busy". Nelles had a stationary and wallpaper store at 101 Wyndham St., while Grinyer had a plumbing, heating, electricians and tinsmith (sheet metal) business at 124-126 Wyndham. It seems that the festivities would be well lit!

On July 24, G. Anderson & Co. advertised "A good supply of flags, tissue paper, pennants, canes, etc." In the daytime, without the benefit of electric lighting, the town spirit would depend upon flags waving and bunting twisting in the winds. Charles Anderson had a book, stationary, china, and fancy goods store at 53 Wyndham (phone 256).

As great as all this sounds, my favourite ads are those of D. E. Macdonald & Bros. The Macdonald family—Donald, Evan, Florence (not a brother, I assume), Norman, and William—had a dry goods, clothing and "mens furnishing" store at 1-9 Wyndham, and were determined to help Guelphites do it in style. Here is their ad from July 21.

That ad emphasizes the decoration needed to prepare properly for the event. The following ad, published in the Mercury during Old Home Week, emphasizes the accoutrements needed to properly enjoy it.

A straw boater and cane, or a parasol, and you're all set!

Some visitors started to arrive early in order to take full advantage. The "City News" column of the Mercury on July 22 notes the following arrival:

For Old Home Week.

Mr. J. M. Ogilvie and Mrs. Ogilvie and family motored up to the "Old Burg" for Mr. Ogilvie's vacation. They will be here for two weeks, for as Mr. Ogilvie says, "We wouldn't miss a Guelph Old Boy's Reunion for anything. That's why I got my holiday right now."

Mr. Ogilvie's arrival raises two issues regarding Old Home Week. The first is the importance of the "motor" or automobile to it. Cars were assuming an ever greater role in personal mobility, especially with the relatively inexpensive Ford Model T on the market since 1908. As we will see, cars also assumed a formal role in Old Home Week itself.

Second, the issue of how the event would affect local businesses was much discussed as July 28 approached. Clearly, goods and services vendors downtown were elated. However, factory owners were not so enthused. On July 24, Mayor Samuel Carter suggested to the city council that the August Civic Holiday—that would fall on the first Monday in August, right after Old Home Week—should be either cancelled or moved earlier to within the Week itself:

[Factory owners] claim that in all probability they will have to close down during Old Home Week, and that they cannot afford to close down again on the Monday following.

The Trades and Labor Council and the Executive Committee of Old Home Week met to discuss the matter and recommended that the Civic Holiday be moved to Tuesday, July 29, during Old Home Week. An editorial in the Mercury (July 25) inveighed against the change for the following reasons:

• The date of the Civic Holiday was set by a by-law, which probably could not be amended in time;
  
• The railways give special rates on that day and would not change the date at the last minute. Thus, Guelphites would be deprived of their chance at affordable train travel for holiday making;
  
• Stores in town would have to close on Tuesday, taking away a great deal of business and inconveniencing attendees.
  

There are no indications that I can find that the Civic Holiday was moved.

With all obstacles removed and preparations made, it was time for the celebrations to begin...