Muskoka Winter –
Spending my time this Christmas with the memory of Tom Thomson
Back in the mid-1990’s, during a writing hiatus, I found myself by strange and coincidental circumstance, delving into the mysterious death of Canadian landscape artist, Tom Thomson. The legendary painter perished in July 1917, the victim of apparent drowning in Algonquin Park’s Canoe Lake.
It began after I read a biographical column written by well known Algonquin region guide, and trapper, Ralph Bice, published in a Muskoka weekly newspaper. As a long time admirer of Tom Thomson’s art, one column caught my attention moreso than the others in the series. It was a latent rebuttal of a theory put forth many years earlier by Judge William Little, in the text of his then controversial book, “The Tom Thomson Mystery,” alleging the artist had been murdered. Mr.Bice, revered for his tales from the bush, contended the artist, who may or may not have been intoxicated at the time, simply fell out of his canoe, possibly while relieving himself mid-lake. He believed it was most likely, as other researchers have similarly concluded that Thomson simply whacked his noggin on the canoe as he fell, being knocked unconscious before hitting the water.
It wasn’t just Bice’s column alone that inspired years of preoccupation to find the murderer. It was the collection of strange coincidences that continued to happen during those first two years of research. (Many that still occur today while I continue to delve into reference material about the artist’s life and times) It was one particular coincidence and its spin-off that hooked me early in the Thomson story. It happened shortly after reading Ralph Bice’s column regarding his theory the artist’s death was the result of misadventure. Within an hour of reading the column, I found an autographed copy of Judge Little’s book, The Tom Thomson Mystery, on the shelf at the local Salvation Army Thrift Shop, here in Gravenhurst. Add to this the fact William Little had only recently passed away. It was from this point that coincidence made up a weighty portion of my work, which has led to numerous feature series in local publications, as well as other papers in Southern Ontario, including online sites. What really generated interest above all else, was that Ralph Bice had written the column about Thomson’s death being finally resolved, at a time when Judge Little could not offer a counter point. After consultation with several members of Judge Little’s family, I let them know that I wanted to defend the “murder” theory put forward by their family, and respectfully re-submit information contained in the Tom Thomson Mystery, to balance, at least locally, what Mr. Bice contended was accidental drowning without the shadow of doubt.
After the first collection of columns I wrote for the local press appeared, I began getting a significant number of letters, envelopes stuffed with old news clippings about Thomson, offers of Canadian art books for reference, and many words of advice both supporting William Little’s murder theory, and just as many on the side of Mr. Bice, convinced Thomson, an unskilled canoeist had simply drowned. There has been considerable debate whether or not Thomson was a skilled paddler. Over a two and a half year span of time, I spent hours each week reading and re-visiting editorial material submitted, and other documents I found on my scrounging missions to libraries and old book shops. I can’t remember the final tally of articles I had published but it added up, by the pound and the hours spent, to be the most I had ever researched or written continuously on one subject. As an editor-columnist for the local press for many years, I was pretty much set on short pieces and summary histories, versus lengthy, over-written and ink burdened chapters “beating about the bush” to get to the bottom line. The Thomson story didn’t have the satisfying feeling I had anticipated, at the conclusion of each one of the specially prepared series; the sense of successful completion a writer normally experiences when the paper, as they say, is “hot off the press,” finally hitting the public domain. It has haunted me in the same way ever since. The job isn’t done yet! I told my wife Suzanne, in an historian’s typical frustrated rant and resignation, (while one day staring over the pile of Thomson clippings and research notes), that “it’s as if Thomson himself is asking me to carry-on and resolve the circumstances leading up to his death.”
If there’s one over-riding reason I haven’t abandoned the project, in nearly a decade of on-again off-again research, it is the troubling reality Thomson’s death was a clear instance of “justice denied.” While there was evidence he was murdered, a poorly run coroner’s inquest, (without the body…. which had already been buried) hastily ruled the artist had drowned accidentally. His tragic death is entrenched in the history of Canadian art, whether critics care to believe this or not; a mystery, a legend that in many ways, has and will continue to influence impressions of his art work. I would challenge my critics with this question……is there anyone, any art buyer since Thomson’s death, who hasn’t been influenced even to the smallest degree, by what has long been considered a mystery and tragedy rolled into one biographical overview. An exceptional painting, a death unresolved. Even days after the discovery of Thomson’s body in Canoe Lake, those close to the artist made claims about foul play, so the hearsay of murder is, as his death, at a 90 year anniversary.
One of the nation’s best known artists, his work having influenced so much of the national art consciousness of the past century, remains the shade of unresolved demise. I have always be perturbed by the fact so little has been done, with the exception of research by William Little and before him, Blodwen Davies, the first Thomson biographer, to properly address the inconsistencies surrounding his death that were covered-up and ignored by so many authorities and historians ever since. Maybe as some mediums claim of unresolved, discontent spirits, it’s the case Thomson can’t rest in peace until the exact cause of death is determined. I’ve certainly felt like a conduit over this past decade, and I feel it’s important to keep, in front-line consideration, the important findings of both Davies and Little, both revered for their attention to detail and their characteristic reliability to treat fact reverently, and use the critical approach to prove or disprove a theory.
As Tom Thomson’s art work continues to attract higher prices at auction, with more record prices anticipated in the future, I’m of the stubborn belief Thomson’s memory deserves as much respect, and as a researcher I believe Canadian art history would be shaken to the core, if it was finally, and totally accepted our most revered artist was murdered, and not the victim of death by peeing (overboard) misadventure, as it prevails today in most of the authoritarian biographical texts.
The point of this lengthy little preamble, is to let readers know that I will be spending the Christmas season and most of the frigid Muskoka winter, holed-up here at Birch Hollow (our Gravenhurst home), preparing editorial copy for a lengthy series to recognize the 100th anniversary of Tom Thomson’s death 1917-2017, which will be published initially, as an exclusive in one of my favorite publications in Ontario….”Curious – The Tourist Guide,” available in many shops in Southern Ontario, and into the Muskoka region. God willing it will also be published in The Great North Arrow.
It will be the most thorough investigation into the artist’s death to date, and hopefully it will enlighten readers about the inconsistencies of the “accidental drowning” theory. Hope you can catch the series. Thanks for reading through this rather meaty blog submission.
From the snowy woodlands of Muskoka, farewell for now!
The Antique Store Shopper Who Really Wasn't
I was sitting in our recently opened antique wing, of our sons vintage music business, here in Gravenhurst, when all of a sudden, I had this strange deja-vu situation. I so clearly recalled an incident at a former store we operated, in Bracebridge, back in the early 1990's. The basement shop occupied a newer addition to an old Victorian house, on the upper end of the main street. It was in this small crowded shop, that Suzanne and I, began witnessing phantom customers. In the antique business, lots of weird things happen, and sometimes, the paranormal energy is brought into the subject shop, because a particular piece of furniture, a doll, cradle or cupboard, is still occupied by the spirit of a former owner. If you are interested in the paranormal, this will make sense. If you're a skeptic, it might still hit a nerve. If you are a total disbeliever in paranormal anything, then you probably won't want to waste your time on this speculative editorial. But here goes anyway.
While it might seem from the plethora of gathered stories, so far, that our family eagerly embraces the paranormal to the point of invention, we're still not at the point where ghostly encounters have meant anything more than a slight deviation of life's normal course. I'm reasonably sure many people have had paranormal experiences throughout their lives but opted to avoid even the most basic analysis or cross referencing, in order to authenticate the activity. I'm of the firm belief many of these experiences are a long, long way from what might be considered shockingly intrusive or frightening. Most are pretty passive events and nothing more than everso delicate messages from those who have passed. We in our house tend to be more receptive, and attentive to activities surrounding us, on any given day of the week or month. I don't sit around waiting for something paranormal to present itself but I don't run away scared if all of a sudden a smell of lilacs or a bell mysteriously ringing goes otherwise unexplained. And we don't blame everything on the paranormal; and are quick to find any other source that could explain our sensory intrusion. Quite a few events around us, are accepted but largely unexplained but always welcome none the less.
I've had exposure to strange encounters most of my life, and Suzanne has had a few but none that were the fuel of public notoriety, such as to facilitate the inking of a movie deal. If you have read many paranormal stories, and are familiar with ghostly encounters yourself, our stories are about as run-of-the-mill as you can get. Nothing particularly spectacular when compared to stories about haunted castles and spiritfull misty moors. Ours are really what might be expected of interesting, somewhat hard to explain encounters.....none of them threatening although possibly a tad unsettling. What we do have is an open minded approach to new and interesting things in this crazy old life. We couldn't possibly rule out the existence of ghosts or Unidentified Flying Objects, or for that matter goblins, fairies, trolls, hobbits, and other assorted wee beasties, internationally acclaimed writers have been telling us about for centuries......we just haven't worked to disprove their existence because frankly it doesn't bother us either way. If we found a fairy in our garden we wouldn't try to snatch it up as a trophy. We'd just be delighted our garden was good enough to provide habitat.
In every single encounter we have had individually or as a family, we have never been led in that particular direction by, as an example, having just watched a horror flick, or just prior to...., reading about a haunting, or anything else that would have made us anticipate something lurking in the shadows. The encounters have all been when, as they say, we would least expect anything out of the ordinary. There had not been any stimulus to invent paranormal discovery. It just happened out of the blue or the dark depending on the time of day. Each time we have had an experience we might label in the paranormal domain, or at least close, we always try to find reasons it might have been mind over matter. And we never suggest for a moment that what we have witnessed, or sensed, is clear fact the paranormal has been at work.....because as researchers recognize, it isn't that easy to bag a photo of a wayward, passing by, or lodging-in-your-house "spirit," for proof you've been touched by the paranormal. We don't as a rule hunt ghosts or try to get rid of any we do find. Live and let haunt I hear some folks say. As historians by profession however, we cross reference fact and very often find fiction lurking within, and we adore refuting long held historical claims by applying good research skills. We've ticked a few folks off in our bailiwick who preferred the old and trusted histories of the region, very much disliking those historical activists who delve too deeply. Thusly, when we put forward our tales of the paranormal, they are just that.....tales, because we can not prove beyond doubt that what we encountered is the work of the spirit-kind.
One such strange but unproven encounter, that developed twice, visually, occurred once again at our former antique shop in Bracebridge. We had dolls tipped over previously, and a famous haunted portrait we own, hanging askew each morning, over a period of half a year. On the first occasion it had been a busy afternoon with a lot of tourist traffic passing through the basement shop. It was a strange location in many ways. Our shop was situated in a modern storefront addition that had been built onto the front of a large Victorian house that had once been occupied by the local undertaker. You couldn't get into the house from the addition and the original building had been divided into apartments. The creaking and groaning of the modified building never stopped, and it was common several times a day to hear footsteps coming down the stairs, only to find no one arriving in the shop. In the early years of the store, our sales desk was in a larger second room to the left, a sharp turn at the bottom of the stairs, such that we couldn't see who was coming in until they rounded the corner into the main shop. If they went straight into the room at the bottom of the stairs, we might only hear the tinkling of china or pinging of crystal, as a shopper(s) tested the wares. Lots of times we would get up and actually go to the room to see if any one had actually belonged to the footfall. We just wrote it off to a settling building and the constant pounding of heavy traffic up the main street.
Late this particular afternoon, Suzanne looked up from bookwork at the counter, to see an elderly bearded man in an old coat, with what appeared to be a captain's hat on his head, standing a few feet in front. She was about to say "hello" to the sudden guest of the shop, when the figure simply vanished into thin air. Yet she could describe his facial features and clothing, his height and expression as clearly as you would any customer, who appears at your sales desk, with an enquiry or a request to purchase. Several weeks later, in pretty much the same circumstance as the first encounter, Suzanne felt a presence near the counter, looked up to see if someone needed help, and saw the same gentleman standing in front as before. She thought at first that she had been too quick to judge the gentleman's visit, the first time, as a ghostly encounter; due to the fact he was obviously interested in something in our shop. As she pulled up from the chair to properly address the chap, still standing within a few metres of the counter, he simply turned and vanished as quietly and mysteriously as he had arrived. It did leave my wife rubbing her eyes wondering just how the lighting in the store was creating this illusion of a short bearded man in a uniform. In retrospect, what she did see, was not a chap from the 1990's, but someone dressed characteristic of many decades previous. It had the usual trappings of "I've seen a ghost." Suzanne was looking for another sale for the day, but instead got a twice disappearing customer . She just didn't understand the message you might say.
There are many stories about the folks who used to dwell in this particular Victorian era house, one being that a sickly relative had lived and suffered from a long and serious ailment alone in the attic, over many years; eventually passing away in that same section of the old home. Once again as historians, we have not verified this claim by a former resident. Suzanne has no doubt about the man she saw but whether it was the deceased attic-dweller, we will probably never know. I never saw the chap in my days at the store but I did hear the phantom footsteps, at least once every day, for more than five years. Still, it was a good location for our shop, and during its run we enjoyed a pretty good volume of sales. We gave it up to pursue new business opportunities in Gravenhurst, a town ten miles south of Bracebridge but we still have a soft spot for the Birch Hollow location of once.
Our two room shop today isn't haunted. There are pieces in our antique collection that may be, because we sense those strange vibes that come from antiques, greatly loved by previous owners. We had a customer recently, who asked to hold one of our Victorian era dolls. The moment she picked it up, and held it to her chest, the smile on the customer's face indicated the obvious. The doll had a new owner. It wasn't based on pristine condition. Far from it. The sale was based on compatible auras. One human, one paranormal. When she came in a short while later, the lady once again asked if she could hold another doll from the showcase. I watched this unfold, believing she would do exactly the same, and choose to purchase the second doll. There was no hesitation, no smile, no embrace, just the statement, "I'm sorry, but this dolly is not for me," and handed it back, as if it possessed a negative aura, she could not accept. The girl left the store, looking back, and hasn't been back in months. Welcome to the antique business. We get this all the time. But I very much appreciate the vibe that comes from historic pieces. The doll that the customer rejected wasn't possessed by anything evil…….but it most definitely spoke to the customer, in a very subtle and engaging way. Honestly, this is exactly how Suzanne and I shop, without knowing it, being compelled to buy certain antiques, and being repelled by other parallel pieces…..simply because of our sense of compatibility. Sometimes profit is the last consideration, and I know that doesn't make much business sense. In the antique trade, we come to accept the paranormal as the patina of aging. Not extraordinary. Just the history within, good or bad.
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