For over half a century, the old building on Queen was the town hospital. In the early ’50s, a spanking new one was built down the street. That one lasted 60 years. It closed in 2016 and now we have none. Isn’t progress great?
Today the closest hospital is in scary St. Catharines and is named after a developer. The emergency room wait time is four hours on a good day. Eight on a busy one. Or longer.
The fate of the 1950s building is currently in limbo (the town bought it seven years ago), but the old Cottage Hospital has since morphed into a swishy condo. It’s for sale these days. And there’s another story behind it worth telling you about.
The folks who own it are gone. They couldn’t take NOTL anymore.
“I have just finished reading your column in The Lake Report. Many times I have wanted to reach out to thank you and the time has finally come,” says Sonja Schindeler. “But your efforts are too late for us.”
They bought here a dozen years ago, identifying this horse-infused, artistic small town with its majestic trees, tight community, great services (including a functioning hospital and a public school) and cautious, anti-development politicians as the ideal place to retire.
“But over the years we felt that our dream was slipping away as the town and council seemed to become more and more focused on tourists, and less so on the residents that chose to call NOTL home,” she says.
So, they listed the house, then up and left.
“We have now relocated to Portugal, and finally found the ‘village’ that ticks all of the boxes. With two grocery stores, two pharmacies, the doctor’s office, the dentist, padel tennis, numerous cafes, restaurants and bars, multiple exercise facilities and, of course, the ocean — all within easy walking distance.”
“We have found what we had hoped NOTL would offer. YES — there are tourists here — and PLENTY of them in July and August, but the village still rings with the voices of the youngsters and the elderly gather in the local coffee shops for their coffees and sweets for less than 3 euro (no Starbucks here!).”
She reads this paper weekly, “but it saddens me as I am reminded of the lost opportunity.”
So, what have we become? Disney-on-the-Lake, or has this progress that drove her away been reasonable? Unavoidable?
The school is a hole in the ground. Politicians and the guy the hospital is now named after have agreed to build a honking big hotel there — in the middle of a residential ‘hood. There’s a glass-and-concrete hotel going up in the Village area. It looks like a departure terminal at Pearson.
NOTL is one of the few places in Canada allowing its housing stock to be turned into Airbnbs where hosts don’t live. So there are fewer families and virtually no rentals. Our real estate’s been financialized.
The two most recent Old Town listings (one sold in two days), came on at $3.3 million and $3.5 million. Now the beloved Shaw Festival is ready to tear up a residential block and erect a hulking new industrial theatre multiplex on the main drag, igniting years of heavy construction.
All this, and more, for the love of business.
Among so many others in the past few days, prompted by the Fat George proposal, Hamish and Leslie Kerr have decided to speak out and to stand for something. For two decades, they operated a business in Old Town.
“An important comment heard from many customers was that they come to Niagara-on-the-Lake BECAUSE IT’S DIFFERENT FROM EVERYWHERE ELSE!” they tell me (yes, in capital letters). “Once the Old Town is gone … it’s gone! Please stop the slide where it just looks like everywhere else.”
The folks we elected can do that. Will they?
“Thank you for caring and thank you for being a voice of reason,” says Sonja, kindly. “Know that from far away I am rooting for you, and hope your efforts will play some part in restoring NOTL to what my dream (and I’m sure yours) had been.”
Garth Turner is a NOTL resident, journalist, author, wealth manager and former federal MP and minister. garth@garth.ca
