Hurricane Hazel and the Old Mill

I mentioned previously that the infamous Hurricane Hazel roared through Uxbridge while we were living there. The date was Oct. 15, 1954 and it produced an intriguing childhood memory – wearing kleenex for socks in my shoes.

Hurricane Hazel is the most famous hurricane in Canadian history and left a swath of destruction through Southern Ontario. Below is a quote from the website dedicated to this powerful lady.

Hurricane Hazel was projected to dissipate, but instead re-intensified unexpectedly and rapidly, pounding the Toronto region with winds that reached 110 kilometres per hour (68 mph) and 285 millimetres (11.23 inches) of rain in 48 hours. Bridges and streets were washed out, homes and trailers were washed into Lake Ontario. Thousands were left homeless, and 81 people were killed—more than 30 on one street alone. The total cost of the destruction in Canada was estimated at $100 million (about $1 billion today).

I had just turned 7 years old a few weeks before, and was in my Grade 2 class at school as usual that day. I assume the forecast earlier in the day was for diminishing wind and rain from the storm and didn’t raise an alarm for anyone. However, the school authorities must have received revised weather reports and decided that the students should be let out of school early so they could avoid the worst of the storm.

Procedures for letting students go home early from school were different in those days. I don’t know if they tried to call parents to let them know their children were heading out in the pounding rain and wind, but there was no policy for what to do if the parents couldn’t be reached. So I headed home to the old house on Marietta St. where we lived.

The role of the Old Mill

There was on old mill in Uxbridge located on Mill St. at the north end of Elgin Pond. Constructed in 1887, it had long since been abandoned and was in sad state of repair.

This mill lay directly between Uxbridge Public School and both of my homes, the old one on Marietta St. and the new one on East St., and would have been the most convenient route for me to take on my way to and from school. However, my father would not allow me to walk that way. He was afraid that it would fall down some day while I was passing by.

I guess the danger was real – take a look at the warning notice on the sign in the photo – but neither my mother or I thought the precaution was necessary since it meant a longer walk for me. Nevertheless, there was no changing my father’s mind; he was a worrier and, in no uncertain terms was I ever to go that way. Once I tried to use an even more direct route down some back streets that led to a small bridge that crossed the creek further up from the mill, but he was waiting for me on the other side. He had driven to school to pick me up, and when he couldn’t find me en route, he checked the “creek route”. Needless to say, I didn’t ever do that again!

 My encounter with the hurricane

As I headed home the day of the hurricane following my usual route through town, I don’t recall being concerned about the rain and wind. I simply trudged along to our house on Marietta St. getting more and more soaked as I went. When I arrived, to my surprise I found the door locked. I wondered where my parents were because this had never happened before; one of them was always at home to greet me.

I thought for a while and then I realized where they would be – at our new house, of course! They went there during the day to continue with the construction. So I set out to walk to East St. without any concern for the distance or how to get there. Keep in mind that I had never walked there before in my life; we always drove in the car. I also had already walked 1 km to get to Marietta St. and now I had to walk almost 3/4 of a km to get to East St. (See the map above.) However, in my mind it was the logical thing to do and I set out to find my way.

I still remember the reaction of my mother and father when I arrived at the new house through the pouring rain. I can see them looking at each other in amazement. How did she get here? How did she know where to go? I guess my excellent sense of direction served me well that day because I had no trouble finding the place.

As for the socks? Well, they were soaked, of course, since I was not wearing boots. I imagine I had a raincoat on which protected the rest of my clothes to some degree, but there was no way to dry my socks since the new house just consisted of framed walls with a roof. No windows and no electricity. So my mother wrapped my feet with kleenex and put my shoes back on. A bit uncomfortable but a fond memory that has stayed with me ever since.

P.S. The old mill DID eventually fall down on Dec. 24, 1957, after we had moved out of Uxbridge. It was described as “slowly collapsing in a heap of rubble” that day.

I gather no one was hurt.