I want to start by telling regular readers that this entry will be a little different. Usually, I try to provide my observations and advice on what to see in the locations I visit. However, Owen Sound, Ontario, holds a special place in my heart. It’s the place where I met and fell in love with my late husband, Myles Caskie. Many of my cherished memories were made in and around this city. I’ll try to stick mostly to the facts, but I ask readers to grant me a few personal indulgences as we explore this particular locale.
When I left Manitoulin Island, I traveled by way of the Chi-cheemaun Ferry. I had ridden this ferry for the first time in the summer of 1977. A friend of my parents was a captain on it. Ewert was a stoic sort of guy with a very gregarious wife. He worked as a ferry captain for most of his life. Wandering around the vessel on this new visit, I found a picture of him in one of the historic galleries. I also spoke with one of the current captains, and told him about my association with Ewert. It turns out that Ewert had mentored him as a young mate. We had a great chat about him and his family, and I found out that Ewart’s son had worked briefly on the ferry until he moved to Toronto for love.
The ferry left South Baymouth and made its way to Tobermory. It was only 25 miles, but the trip took about 1½ hours. The winds were reasonably calm, and the bay/lake was clear. I snapped picture after picture, knowing they were all going to look alike later—and I was right.
I spent the night at a campground in Tobermory. Located at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula, Tobermory is part of the Niagara Escarpment—a ridge of rock shaped by unequal erosion over thousands of years. The escarpment begins at Niagara Falls and runs along the peninsula across Ontario to Owen Sound, then up to Tobermory. It is a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve due to its unique plant, animal, and geological environment.
The Bruce Trail is somewhat like the Appalachian Trail, but shorter. Since I had spent a couple of summers in the area, I was familiar with much of it, but the surrounding region has now been designated a national park. Of course, I went to visit. I had seen most of it before, but one place I hadn’t visited was the falls area. But unfortunately the Falls required reservations and a good hike so I moved on.
I first visited Owen Sound when I was employed as the Assistant Director for the Kiwanis’ Camp Presqu’ile, just outside of town. I had first heard of the town in 1975 when my sister traveled there with a track team to attend a big meet. I met many kids that summer and, in particular, one gentleman who was 10 years older than me — Myles Caskie, the camp director. He and my sister’s track coach encouraged the two cities to become part of the Sister Cities program, and in 1976, Miamisburg, Ohio, USA, and Owen Sound, Ontario, Canada, officially became sister cities.
I saw Myles several times that summer, but I was in college, and he was a working adult. In 1977, I went to Owen Sound for the first time on my own. It was my first experience away from home, in a country that wasn’t mine. And while it wasn’t a long stay—just seven weeks—I fell in love with Owen Sound, and it has been a part of me ever since. My time there that year also led to building a relationship with Myles, which, though rocky at times, lasted until his passing in 2005.
The last time I had visited was in 2005 for Myles’ memorial service and the scattering of his ashes. Twenty years is a long time in the life of a town. As I drove Route 6 from Tobermory south, I noticed several obvious changes. I continued through the towns and cities I remembered—Wiarton, where I stopped and got smoked fish from Howell’s Fish Market. It is no longer owned by a Howell, but the name remains the same. I also passed through Hepworth and Shallow Lake, two communities where I had spent time with Myles.
As I approached Route 21, I turned and actually headed into Owen Sound. I saw what looked like a “motor mile” in the U.S.—rows of brand-new car dealerships. As I drove into the older parts of the City, I recognized the United Church, The CAA offices, City Hall, and Grain Storage, and several other buildings that hadn’t changed in the 40 years I have been visiting this community.
I made my way to Harrison Park, a place I had visited many times for events and picnics. My family never stayed there, though, since my parents didn’t camp. Instead, we stayed in hotels or with Myles’ family and friends. I enjoyed wandering this area over the next few days and revisiting old memories. I was glad to see that the grief had finally faded, and the memories had become comforting rather than sorrowful.
I was specifically heading to Owen Sound to catch up with some of Myles’ and my dearest friends. They had visited me in Tennessee a couple of times, and we had stayed connected through Facebook. Their son is following in both his father’s and Myles’ footsteps. He’s a teacher and the current president of the Ontario Teachers’ Federation—just as his father was. Though he works in Toronto and commutes home for the weekends, he made a point of being home so we could catch up. His parents, Heather and Barry, had been dear friends of Myles’ before I ever met them, and they quickly welcomed me into their circle. They are still dear friends of mine.
Heather and Barry came out to the campground on Friday, and we had dinner with Mike and his family when they arrived from Toronto. It was the first time I had met Mike’s kids in person, though I had heard about them from their proud grandparents and watched them grow up on Facebook. Two of the three were avid soccer players, and I was invited to join them at their daughter’s game the next day. I thought it sounded like fun, so I brought my camera and took lots of pictures.
When I got back, I decided to make a collage for Mike and his family. We were gathering for breakfast the next day, so I printed the collages at a local Staples and handed them out. The son, who also played soccer, mentioned he had a game the following day. I took that as a hint that he might like a collage too, so I went to another soccer game and took more photos. Before I left, I gave them to Heather and Barry to deliver.
After the Saturday game, I drove up the shore of Lake Huron to Sauble Beach. The community is still called Sauble Beach but the Beach itself has been renamed to Saugeen Beach in recognition of the First Nations people that live along this area. It was the middle of August and the beach was packed. I looked around and found my postcards before heading back to Owen Sound.
I drove around, caught up with memories of Myles’ old house, and visited Camp Presqu’ile. I looked at all the changes that had taken place over nearly 50 years—and some things that hadn’t changed at all. The water in the bay is still incredibly clear. Myles used to say you could see the date on a dime six feet below the surface. My eyes aren’t that good anymore, but I could tell how clear the water remains. The perfect flat stones still line the beach, and I practiced skipping rocks. If I was ever any good at it, I’m not now. I’ll leave that to the new campers and staff.
I did a little more sightseeing—went to beautiful Inglis Falls for which Owen Sound is well known and took a number of pictures to go with the collection of others that I have taken on previous trips. During these few days, I mostly relived some wonderful memories and quietly said goodbye to a town that I likely will not see again, but that will always hold a special place in my heart.
