The other day I took a literal stroll down memory lane—aka Toronto’s Yonge Street between College Street and Dundas. From 1965 until 1971 I lived downtown, first at Yonge and Gerrard in Willard Hall (a working girls’ residence run by The Women’s Christian Temperance Union) and after a couple of moves, to Alexander Street just north of Maple Leaf Gardens.

My first stop was meeting a friend for lunch at Eately in the Manulife Centre at Bloor and Bay near the toney Yorkville shopping area. The colourful old Yorkville we used to visit on Friday and Saturday nights in the sixties is unrecognizable from the days of The Riverboat, The Purple Onion, and Unicorn.

Remember the old folks sitting in their webbed lawn chairs outside the nursing home on Yorkville Avenue watching all the hippies on a warm summer Saturday night? I’ve now become one of those seniors. These days, you’d have to cash in your RRSP to buy lunch at one of the fancy neighbourhood restaurants or buy a new pair of shoes in one of the pricey nearby designer shops.

After lunch, I hopped on the subway feeling rather old as I remembered the times when I would have easily walked the distance (in stiletto heels) to College and Yonge on foot, but I no longer have the stamina or the arches for that. My reason for going there was to visit the Lee Miller photo exhibit at The Image Centre which is part of (boringly named) Toronto Metropolitan University—always and forever Ryerson in my mind. I highly recommend reading The Age of Light by Whitney Sharer, a biography of Lee Miller* which I reviewed in April 2019 (Who Was The Woman In Hitler’s Bathtub and How Did She Get There?)

I exited the College Street subway station through vaguely familiar old tunnels to the lower level of College Park which used to be the housewares section of Eaton’s. It’s now a food court and shops but the grand old elevators I remembered from when I worked there in 1970-71 still looked the same. The northeast corner of the main floor where I worked in Eaton’s cosmetics department is now a Winners store. What a comedown from the Charles of the Ritz, Helena Rubenstein, and Guerlain days! Fortunately, they retained the beautiful art deco brass, bronze and marble facade of the old store and some of its interior finishes. While I didn’t go upstairs, I understand remnants of the old seventh-floor Eaton’s Auditorium and Georgian Round Room are still there.

Walking down Yonge Street I was shocked at how things had changed. The little street (Hayter?) that once bordered the southern elevation of Eaton’s is now a pedestrian mall and all the little independent shops have been replaced by towers and retail franchises, all shiny and new.

The east side of Yonge Street above Gerrard is sadly boarded up now. Lindy’s and Bassell’s Restaurants are where the Willard Hall girls used to go for a coffee and cigarette, or to watch age-restricted foreign films at the old Coronet Theatre. I once met my boyfriend at the time walking along that stretch of Yonge Street laughing and talking with his arm around another girl. Oh, remembering the youthful pain.

The “Ryerson” campus is unrecognizable from the sixties when I took night courses there, went to dances, and attended Gordon Lightfoot concerts. I also had the rare and special privilege of seeing Gordon Lightfoot perform at The Riverboat in the summer of 1965. Egerton Ryerson’s statue has disappeared courtesy of current political correctness, but new buildings have sprung up to replace Gorries Motor Sales where I remember having “meaningful conversations” with another old boyfriend parked in the empty lot late at night. I still recall the constant hissing and popping sounds from the greasy little Green & Ross Tires shop behind Bassell’s Restaurant on Gerrard Street. All those spots are history now.

The old WCTU Willard Hall building still stands at 20 Gerrard Street East. When I lived there decades ago (from 1965-67) we were regularly told it was going to be demolished as a fire hazard, but sixty years later she still stands and is now Covenant House. From my fourth floor window in the upper right corner, I watched the first tower of the Toronto-Dominion Centre being erected floor by floor changing Toronto’s old skyline once dominated by the 32-storey Bank of Commerce building and the Royal York Hotel. I could check the weather forecast on Canada Life’s weather beacon atop their building on University Avenue.

I would have loved to have gone inside the old Willard Hall building to take a look at what they’ve done to update it with new occupants and stricter building codes since I lived there nearly sixty years ago. I asked to get in once, but security wouldn’t let me. I imagine the old claw-foot bathtubs in the communal bathrooms and the single shared telephone on the wall in the hallway of each floor disappeared decades ago.

The window at the upper right corner of the top floor of Willard Hall is the room I shared with my roommate, Liz. I wonder who lives there now? The tall bay-windowed room on the lower right corner of the main floor was our communal dining room.

As I stood at the corner of Yonge and Gerrard looking west, I found myself reflecting on the former “Old Village” before it moved to Yorkville. That stretch is now occupied by the Chelsea Inn. The original village on Gerrard Street extended from Yonge to just west of Bay Street. Every day I would walk past the stylish Unicorn boutique, The Prince of Serendip, Mary John’s, and various other cool little shops on my way to work for The (old) Bell Telephone Company of Canada in the former Maclean-Hunter building at 481 University Avenue.

Back in the sixties, Chinatown was located between Bay and University on Dundas Street. That’s where I had my first taste of “Chinese” food on my lunch hour at the Sea-Hi Restaurant accompanied by my friend and coworker, also called Lynda. I was seventeen years old. That was the same year (1965) I tasted pizza for the first time. Coming from a small town, I’d never had either Chinese food or pizza before moving to Toronto. When I first moved to Toronto, I would nod and smile at everyone I met on Yonge Street because that’s what we did in the small town I came from. Whatever must people have thought?

As I headed east to Ryerson on Gerrard, I forgot to check for the Zanzibar and the tiny, smokey Ford Drugs where Willard Hall girls could get their pregnancy tests. Perhaps they are still there serving a particular kind of clientele. Yonge Street is as sleazy as it always was with the ever-present odours of fast-food kiosks and cigarette smoke. There is still the usual sad assortment of homeless people and drug addicts sleeping on the sidewalks and benches. Some things never improve. Bassell’s Restaurant, Lindy’s, Sam The Record Man, A&A, The Coq d’or with Ronnie Hawkins, The Edison Hotel, The Brown Derby, and The Friar’s are long gone.

Who remembers the eccentric “Queen of Sweden” who would stroll along Yonge Street in her tulle-adorned dress, bright blue eye shadow, pink lipstick, and bleached blonde hair? She would benevolently wave her imaginary magic wand at her imaginary subjects and passers-by which always put a smile on my face and lifted my spirits. Do interesting characters like her still exist downtown? I hope so.

While I don’t necessarily miss the old days I do recall them with incredibly rich and fond memories when Toronto was a much simpler and less crowded place. And, that old boyfriend? He made a big mistake dumping me, but I probably ended up having a better life than he did as he flunked out of Ryerson and I’m now a famous blogger—right? Broken hearts have a way of getting their just rewards.

Will future generations remember the current city with affection or a different kind of emotion? Time and strolls down memory lane will tell.

If you are unable to obtain a copy of The Age of Light by Whitney Sharer, the story of Lee Miller, at your local bookstore or library, *click on this link to have a copy delivered directly to your door or tablet from Amazon.

(Disclosure: I may receive a teeny, tiny commission. Thank you.)