Controversy Over Heritage Designation Grows

2020 Lambs Road in Bowmanville is the site of the only battle of the Second World War to be fought on Canadian soil.

What would come to be known as the “Battle of Bowmanville” began on Thanksgiving weekend 1942, when hundreds of German prisoners of war at Camp 30 rioted in response to a federal government order that 100 of their highest-ranking officers be shackled. Using a variety of makeshift weapons including jam jars, baseball bats and hockey sticks, the German PoWs seized control of the camp, taking one guard hostage and barricading themselves in the main hall. The three-day standoff ended only after guards stormed the building, using fire hoses and tear gas to subdue the inmates.

While the Battle of Bowmanville isn’t likely to make it into many history books, historian Lynn Philip Hodgson believes Camp 30 to be a critical piece of Canada’s wartime history. Now in a state of disrepair, this collection of 18 buildings in rural Bowmanville is thought to be the world’s last remaining German prisoner of war camp. A small camp, it housed 880 of the Third Reich’s high-ranking officers during the Second World War. Hodgson believes that by containing these officers and denying Hitler some of his most strategic minds, Canada did its part to ensure Allied victory.

This belief has been at the centre of Hodgson’s ten-year campaign to preserve the site and to turn one of the buildings into a small museum.

Sadly, it has been an uphill battle. Over the years Hodgson has faced uncooperative property owners (Kaitlin Group, a housing development company), demolition plans, vandalism, property damage and, most recently, arson that gutted the camp’s administration building and damaged two others.

Fortunately, a new year has brought new progress. Sort of. In January, in the wake of intense backlash, Kaitlin Group offered the Municipality of Clarington a third of the property to develop as a park.

Victory was short-lived, however. A splinter group, led by Clarington councillor Charlie Trim, has emerged among preservationists. Trim believes that highlighting the war history of the site honours the German officers and could offend veterans living in the area. Instead, Trim wants the site to preserve the history of the training school for delinquent boys that occupied the site for the majority of the time from 1925-1979.

But this proposal is not without its own controversy. In fact, members of the community have stepped forward to remind Trim that the school has its own dark past of physical, sexual and emotional abuse that some may not wish to commemorate either.

It appears there is no easy solution for the preservationists in Durham Region. The Municipality of Clarington has the land. Now the question becomes, what are they going to do with it? Whose history should be privileged? Whose buried? Perhaps the answer lies in finding a compromise that would use the site to interpret all aspects of the area’s history.


Notes:

* This post was originally written as an assignment for my Public History class. The focus of the assignment was to learn how to write a 500 word article about history that would engage and inform a public audience. As it stands, this post represents a significantly altered second draft of my original article and includes corrections I made in response to the constructive feedback of Dr. Jonathan Vance and my peers in UWO’s Public History program.

* Although few people remember it, more than 37,000 German prisoners of war once forcibly called Canada ‘home.’ CBC Digital Archives has done a wonderful job of compiling both contemporary and subsequent news footage about German and Italian POWs here.

* To see what Time Magazine had to say about the Battle of Bowmanville at the time, see this article.

* Click here to see Hodgson's proposal for the site.

Grab Your Pitchfork and Torch, Dear. There's Trouble Brewin'...

My father recently sent me the link to a podcast for CBC’s The Current and a short note that assured me that the show’s last segment was right up my alley. Sure enough, it was. (Thanks Dad!)

Before I begin, let me set the scene for you… The year is 1860 and you live in a small Eastern Ontario town on the banks of the St. Lawrence River. It’s summer, but despite the heat of the day you’re covered from wrist to ankle to chin. You’re taking your time, shuffling down Maple Road with no particular destination in mind when a horse-drawn carriage turns onto the street in front of you and begins to kick up dust. To avoid it, you turn down Queen Street where you can hear the clang of iron striking iron at the blacksmith’s and the sound of the muley saw in action at the mill. Your mouth begins to water as the scent of freshly baked bread wafts to you on the breeze as you pass the bakery, its windows thrown open wide to let some of the oven’s heat escape. Mmmm… freshly baked bread.

Continuing on your way, you decide to poke your head into the guardhouse to say hello to a friend. Unfortunately, instead of the soldiers you were expecting to see, the only person inside is an annoyingly perky young woman selling bottled water and Freezies. You apologize and back out slowly. Confused, you turn a corner and find yourself faced with a row of blue structures approximately 8 feet tall and 3 feet wide. They’re made out of a material you’ve never seen before and they reek to high heaven. The sign on their front declares that they are “Johnny-on-the-Spots”. Curiouser and curiouser. Hoping to put as much distance between these offensive blue huts and yourself, you stumble into the local tavern, which you now discover serves a selection of Prince Edward wines and cellophane-wrapped sandwiches. On the wall you see an advert encouraging you to come out to the medieval festival being held next weekend. Wait a second… Bottled water? Plastic wrap? A medieval festival in 1860s Canada?!? There’s something not quite right with this picture.

If your thoughts echoed the sentiments above, you’re not alone. In fact, it’s these modern intrusions and quick cash grab schemes that are at the very heart of a heated debate surrounding Upper Canada Village this summer.

Established by the St. Lawrence Parks Commission in 1961 in Morrisburg, Ontario, Upper Canada Village (UCV) is a “living museum” comprised of nearly 40 buildings and employing dozens of historical interpreters (bakers, blacksmiths, mill workers, school teachers, etc) to bring the experience of Canada in the mid-19th century to life for its visitors. Although the heritage park used to draw hundreds of thousands of visitors each year, the number of people has declined drastically in recent years, causing UCV to run at a deficit that now reaches into the multi-millions. Clearly the situation cannot remain as it is if we want the park to remain open for future generations to enjoy. Something needs to be done immediately to boost interest in and attendance at the park.

Enter Pat MacDonald, CEO and GM for the St. Lawrence Parks Commission, and her controversial new strategies to cut operating costs, attract business and generate revenue at Upper Canada Village. Last year MacDonald added beer samplings and musical revues to the tavern as a way to increase foot traffic in what she considered an underutilized building. Sounds relatively good so far, right? Unfortunately, she also embraced more unconventional forms of raising revenue such as renting out the parking lot of the Village to the organizers of a medieval festival.

That was last year. She began this year by laying off 39 historical interpreters and setting in motion plans to add a completely new microbrewery to the tavern, as well as to serve a selection of wines, treats and sandwiches. She also plans to turn a previously unused and “derelict” guardhouse into a snack shack serving drinks and cool treats to visitors on hot days. Perhaps most controversially, Macdonald has also agreed to let the medieval festival move onto UCV grounds next weekend (the catalyst for the latest flurry of discontent surrounding her involvement with UCV).

Previously employed by Paramount Canada’s Wonderland, Macdonald makes no bones about the fact that she has embraced a more customer-driven approach to managing Upper Canada Village than past General Managers have. She maintains, however, that while she’s trying to find new ways to entertain visitors as well as educate them, she would never do anything to take them away from the 1860s story.

Not true, says a coalition of local historical societies. Spokesmen for the heritage groups have expressed concern that these changes do not remain faithful to the spirit of Upper Canada Village. They say that by turning historic buildings into modern concession stands it interferes with the authenticity that the visitors experience while on the grounds. They also argue that the layoffs have drastically lessened the opportunity that visitors have to interact in a meaningful way with the site. I have to admit that this measure strikes me as counterproductive since I’m sure that the idea of a “living museum” is likely what drew many of the visitors to UCV in the first place. Perhaps the biggest uproar of discontent, however, is over the issue of the medieval fair. The historical societies say that allowing the medieval festival onto the UCV grounds destroys the historical accuracy of the site and cheapens the visitor experience; it takes what’s supposed to be an educational experience and turns it into a day at an amusement park.

I understand the historical societies’ desire to keep the spirit of UCV intact – they want visitors to be able to step through the gates of Upper Canada Village and back into the 1860s. I think that’s an admirable goal and I support the desire to keep UCV history-driven as opposed to consumer-driven at any cost. However, I also understand the need for a business to both generate revenue and to provide services and modern conveniences for its customers in order to keep them at the site and engaged in the learning. After all, if the site remains untouched by MacDonald’s changes but stops drawing the number of visitors it needs to in order remain a viable attraction, the St. Lawrence Parks Commission will likely be forced to close its doors to the public entirely.

One of the suggestions being brought forward by those in the heritage business is to look to other heritage sites and living history museums for solutions. Places like Fort Henry have bowed to the necessity of conveniences such as modern washrooms and snack bars, but they have placed them in such a way as to be completely separate from the historical experience. Visitors know when they are walking into history driven areas and when they are not. I’m not sure which approach is better, to have these modern buildings set apart and draw the eye like a sore thumb, or to renovate previously unused historic buildings and adapt them to camouflage modern conveniences (as MacDonald seems to be supporting)? While the latter suggestion is less offensive to my eye, the thought of permanently marring a historic building hurts my soul a little. Still, it’s something to consider and it’s still my hope that Pat MacDonald and the representatives from the historic societies can find a middle ground that doesn’t irrevocably compromise the integrity of UCV.

Near the end of the segment on Upper Canada Village, Deborah Morrison, President of Canada’s National Historical Society, weighed in on the controversy. Although I feel her comments were ambiguous enough to support either side of the debate, she did make one or two interesting contributions to the dialogue. Mainly, she sought to remind the public that UCV is a heritage park, not a heritage site; all of the buildings and artifacts on the property have been brought there from other parts of Ontario and placed in their current locations for historical effect. Let me say it again: None of the buildings, tools or artifacts are original to UCV’s Morrisburg location.

Indeed, for Morrison this distinction between heritage sites and heritage parks creates a situation in which the historical significance of UCV (and other parks like it) lays mostly in the visitor experience and I tend to agree. Pat MacDonald has called her proposed changes to Upper Canada Village a “journey of revitalization and change.” But, if her revitalization efforts destroy the historical experience the village has spent nearly 50 years preserving, I can’t help but wonder: what will we be left with? And, will it even be worth visiting?