It’s a swell town. We live on the right side of the river. Every chat I have with an American tourist reinforces that.
We elected a central banker. They elected a reality TV guy. What could possibly go wrong?
Alas, it ain’t perfect in NOTL. Let me count the ways. Six of them, anyway.
Perhaps you’ve noticed the rape of Roslyn. This past week workers finished pushing through a driveway onto Queen Street brushing the front steps of the 1822 iconic, landmark Roslyn Cottage.
Gone is the distinctive gate and fence, the trees, bushes, shrubs and bricks. Soon a two-storey garage will squeeze onto the scant land left after the historic property was ripped in half.
Behind the house, where a vineyard, pond, mature shade trees and stone walkways graced and framed Roslyn’s grandeur, there’s now dirt. Flat, denuded, ready-to-build-on dirt. The severed home recently sold for well over $2 million. The dirt is listed for $1.7 million.
How did this happen to an historic property? On heritage grounds the town denied the brutal severance and garage/driveway plan.
The owner/developer (Rainer Hummel) took it to the Ontario Land Tribunal. Council chose surrender over spending money to defend history. Roslyn was ravished.
Then there’s Garrison Village’s Terminal 4 and The Wall. Regular addicts will recall this was the stuff of last week’s rant.
The new, hulking, arched Clayfield Hotel with its sunglassy windows, airport vibe and 42 attached, three-storey vacation rentals is a far cry from what was approved for the gateway site into Old Town.
But council was busy doing other stuff. Staff approved five rounds of changes. Now people who flock to see old, quaint, authentic and irreplaceable architecture are greeted by a fine example of the Mississauga Industrial school of design. Residents of Perez Road, behind, live in the shadow of a wall of hotel rentals.
And who can forget Parliament Oak? Putting a major hotel in the middle of a residential ’hood was bad enough, but the developer (Benny Marotta) didn’t even secure permission to start digging. This steamy little paper gave you all the dirt on that last week (the town tried and failed to stop the work).
Speaking of dirt, is anyone worried about those 19th-century, brick-lined arched tunnels snaking beneath the former school site, soon to be a parkade? Apparently not. If there was an arrowhead down there, work on the place would freeze.
Of course, let’s add Fat George to the list. In a few weeks two heritage homes on Victoria Street will be razed, followed by tearing down the century-old Royal George Theatre and the ancient building beside it. In the battle between money and legacy, it’s the same old winner.
Over the next three years the new $80-million theatrical complex — all 50,000 square feet of it, soaring 60-feet high, will be built. There’s no published construction plan. None has been asked for. Some nearby retailers and cafes will not survive. You have no idea what we are in for.
Not far away is 27 Prideaux. Taxpayers just gave a quarter million dollars to a former owner of this modest cottage in an admission that members of our clowncil screwed up. They designated the property as protected, preventing replacement of a garage, but the owner wasn’t told. He sued for damages. He won. We lost.
And, finally, we also rained cash on Rainer’s company. A million bucks in public funds went to Mr. Hummel (remember him?), the multi-millionaire developer who lives with his antique car collection in a palace on acres of land on the main street.
Why? Because he deserved it. The politicians screwed up again. An illegal bylaw was proclaimed to curb one proposed project and whacked him by mistake. He sued for $3.6 million in damages and just settled for a million.
What do these things have in common? And how long until the next vote?
Garth Turner is a NOTL resident, journalist, author, wealth manager and former federal MP and minister. garth@garth.ca
