It Began on Drummond Street

Having written about Evangel Temple here, our church in Montreal in the 1950s, I think that I fill in more of the story to complete the picture by looking at what came before. It will probably help to explain why my parents were so attached to Evangel Temple and why they were willing to take those long bus commutes after we moved farther away.

Before Evangel Temple there was its predecessor: Drummond Street Tabernacle. If my parents were still alive, I would ask them for more detail, but I'll share what I can tease from the fragments that I can recall.

The Pentecostal assembly that became Evangel Temple began to exist in 1916. I don't know exactly where they first met, but at some point the congregation had grown enough to have a pretty packed building on Drummond Street, Montreal, about 3km from their later Evangel Temple location.

I do not know when my forebears began to attend, but it certainly wasn't as early as 1916. I expect, but don't know for sure, that my maternal grandmother was the first to attend in the later 1920s. I think she was what might be described as a bit of a holy roller, but I don’t mean that literally, and perhaps I am overstating her zeal based on a few off-the-cuff remarks.

My parents got involved. That is where they met and were married. Before then, however, I remember mom telling me about losing a friendship when she was younger after her mother invited her best friend to a somewhat wingy Pentecostal service. She was still hurt by the loss near the end of her long life.

Mom and dad were very devout, and, in their late twenties and early thirties, they became lay pastors at a church in a town, Gananoque, a town less than two hours away from where Sue and I abide now. I've posted a little about this in the past, but the search bar will not dig up that post for me, no matter what words that I enter.

Now you know the broad outline of how it all started. Grandma got involved with the predecessor church to the first church that I remember: Evangel Temple.

But that is not completely true either, for I do have a very dim recollection of the church on Drummond Street from the very early fifties. I also vaguely recall the day when the final Sunday morning service was held at Drummond Street, and the very first service took place at Evangel on that very afternoon.

I found a few photos online. They don't ring many bells for me, but you can see that it was pretty crowded in there and that a larger building was needed.

I believe that the man on the right in the next photo was the pastor. If so, his name was Bill Kautz, and he was the pastor when the church moved. I have a faint recollection of him from back then, and I met him years later when I was a young man, about 25 years old, when he came to our church in Sarnia for a week of meetings.  He was the pastor who dedicated me, but that was at my dad's church in Gananoque. Kautz made a special train trip from Montreal on a very cold night in order to dedicate baby me. He remembered that 25 years later.

I looked for my parents in the next photo, but they aren't there. I don't know when in Drummond Street's approximately 35 year existence that it was taken, but that does look like Bill Kautz, front and centre. If it was he, the photo would likely have been from the late 40s or very early 50s.

Unfortunately, I may require one more post to conclude these ramblings, but tomorrow is Caturday, so expect an interruption to this riveting narrative. :)

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Evangel Temple

To continue my reminiscing from the previous Ruby Foo’s post, I reiterate that the trip to and from church was a rather long one on the buses. It took us two buses to get there, and I am thinking that it probably a 40 minute trip each way. But Evangel was really the only Pentecostal church in Montreal, or at least the largest one and also the only one that we could feasibly get to. For its time, it was a pretty noteworthy edifice for a lowly Pentecostal congregation.

Evangel Temple  still sits in a prime real estate location in Montreal.

This is what the interior of the church looked like in the 1950s. There was usually a fairly large orchestra on the commodious platform. I have added a red ellipsis approximately where our little family would sit. It is quite likely that I would be in the picture if it were taken on a Sunday morning.

Modern services look a little different.

Taken from the balcony at the back.

Although it was a longish bus ride, the family had begun attending Evangel back in the day when they lived within walking distance, so we kept on going for the next five years after we moved to the suburbs.

Later, when a small Pentecostal church opened in a school, my elementary school to be precise, we ceased our marathon bus ride and walked to church. A small meeting in a school gym was very different than the big, downtown church, but I liked it. I liked them both.

I have found the Evangel Temple web page and YouTube site that confirms that the church remains an English-speaking congregation in a very French province with seemingly less of an English presence than when we lived there there until the very early sixties. 

Church was important to me until a half-life ago, when I suddenly stopped believing, but that may be another story for another time — or possibly not.

Remembering The Foo

Last week the grandkids' dad took them to Montreal for a few days. It is his former home and also mine from a long time before he entered the world. The highlight for dad and the kids in those few days was probably the Linkin Park concert (whatever that is) that they attended on Wednesday evening. The highlight for me, from their messages, was a trip down memory lane when I saw the name and location of their accommodations: Hôtel Ruby Foo's. 

That was a familiar name to me, for I passed it almost every Sunday on the way to and from church on a city bus —  #17 to be exact. It was actually a streetcar and not a bus for the first year or two over the six year period from about 1950 to 1955 before Montreal made the mistake of jettisoning streetcars. It was a pretty long journey just to attend church, especially since in involved a transfer.

Ruby Foo's was just a restaurant back then, so I was surprised to see that it had become a major hotel.

Ruby Foo's was a popular restaurant in Montreal during the 1950s, known for its lively atmosphere and a menu that blended Chinese, American, and French cuisine. It was a stylish spot frequented by politicians, celebrities, and the city's elite. The restaurant was particularly famous for its egg rolls, chicken almond guy ding, and club sandwiches.

This is more or less what I would have seen from the bus although my eyes saw in colour back then even though the cameras didn't.  ;)

A typical Montreal bus if that era with Ruby Foo's in the background.

For six years, I would wonder about Ruby Foo's when we passed by. What was it like in there? It smacked of a kind of prosperity not enjoyed by my poor, little family, and now my grandkids were staying at a semi posh hotel in the same location and bearing the same name. I really have no connection other than those sightings and the kids staying there, but the name and place still evoked memories.

Lavish furs and cars on a New Year's Eve

I also recalled passing another classy restaurant, not far from Foo's. Piazza Tomasso was Italian, and we never came close to darkening their door either. Besides, as the Google AI note reveals, it was a nightclub and, therefore, probably a den of sin, and we were most definitely not sinners. :)

Piazza Tommaso in Montreal during the 1950s was a popular restaurant and nightclub, particularly known for its upscale ambiance and celebrity clientele. It was a notable entertainment spot in the city during that era.

As one thought led me to another, I started to think about the church that I mentioned earlier in this post. Some might wonder why a family would spend up to and hour and a half on city transit to attend church on a Sunday. So I feel the need to reflect on that and then write about it.

Until then . . . ttfn (ta ta for now)

Sue's Flipping Experiment

Sue is given some odd photo assignments from her group, but they can prove interesting. Last week, she was instructed to take the camera down to ground level and take a photo. She was then to turn the camera upside down and take another. I don't think the object was to get a great photo but to see the world differently.

She took this one before turning the camera over. The second flip shot was quite unfulfilling because the lens was right at ground level and stuck in the grass, so I shan't bother showing it. 

It's an interesting perspective. If old bodies weren't what they are, it is probably something that we should try more. The photo is not great and definitely crooked, but I still like something about the point of view.

Turning the camera upside down would probably work better on an actual camera because it would more or less just flip things. However, a phone is rectangular with the lens in one corner, so when it is flipped the lens is in a different place and really low to the ground where there may be grass ir other objects in front ot it. 

Sue did some experimenting and eventually found a few pairs to include in a collage.

Code Red

It’s dry here. The last bit of rain fell on July 19-20. I don’t know how much fell, but I think I remember it being very light. Prior to that it last rained on July 9. So, we've only had trace amounts of precipitation in a whole month — a hot month at that.

The river is running very low. I peeked over the foliage at the edge of the park and saw exposed green where I have never seen it before.

Along the trail, the bog is dry where we saw the turtles during spring. One wonders how the turtles cope.

Lawns are looking parched for the most part. This is a section of ours beside the garden. No one has needed to mow for a long time.

The town is in Code Red with regards to water usage. Sue and I are complying by watering plants from the can (mostly) or nozzle (a little bit), but not all people comply. On a recent morning walk, one resident was happily sprinkling the lawn. Granted, it was probably out of ignorance because not every message filters through to every person. Still, it rankled a bit.

We abide by the list ↑ and adhere to the third section for tending the plants.

I don’t think we have to worry about ever running out of water in this town, but, while we often need to moderate our usage at some point during the summer, the situation is a little more concerning than usual this summer.

It is possible that we might get some rain on Wednesday, but it is definite that the heat warning will persist until then. Even though the temperature will drop afterward, the weather will continue be quite warm for the foreseeable future.

Of course, a fire ban is also in effect.

Sturgeon Moon

When I awoke to visit the facilities at 5:17 this morning, I grabbed the phone from the bedside table and shot the moon. It was the full, Sturgeon Moon, hanging there right in the middle of the window. It pleased me to see it and to capture this unexpected photo  

As an added bonus, I was able to get back to sleep until almost 7. Sleepwatch thusly informs me that I exceeded my sleep goal of 6 hours and 30 minutes by 15 whole minutes. This infrequent achievement pleased me too, but not as much as the Sturgeon Moon did, Granted, 6.5 hours is a rather modest goal, but it is one that I at least have a chance or making.

Caturday 85: TFW

I had to look it up. TFW is short for That Feeling When: an acronym that I shall promptly forget.

As I must surely have posted previously, Lacey expects five feedings per day. I refer to only wet food meals and not the ever-full dry food dish or the semi frequent treat-tossings. 

All of these feedings only amount to one small can per day. I used to divide the can into four segments, but she often wanted more. So being a human with a superior brain, I simply opted to divide the can into five portions. 

It works for the most part. Her first feeding is usually served by 9am and her last by 10pm. During the wretchedly long night, she much subsist on dry food: poor thing. 

There are occasions when she will bother me for ages for the next feeding. Sometimes, the cat will hound [sic] me for a long time, but when I finally lay her dish before her majesty, she, like the cat in the photo, seems to have a TFW moment, and will simply stare vacantly in the general direction of her dish for a moment before walking off.