EARL FENWICK . . . recalls memories of old No. 3
Old No. 3 firehall on Bruce Street has been boarded up after serving its neighborhood since 1880.
The men and equipment moved to new, more spacious quarters at Commissioners and Wonderland roads June 2.
But closing a building after 95 years can’t erase memories associated with it. Deputy Fire Chief Earl Fenwick, who began his career there, has lots of them.
He likes to remember the relationship between the crews that manned the station and the area resident.
“The people in the neighborhood accepted the firehall as part of their life,” he said. “Our relationship with them was 100 per cent.”
Deputy Chief Fenwick started work at the station in 1947, one of 19 Second World War veterans hired that year. He worked at No. 3 for 14 years.
Firemen used to cut lawns for elderly neighbors and befriend the children who loved to hang around the station. In return, people would do favours for the firemen.
A woman used to allow the crews to store food in her refrigerator because there wasn’t one at the hall. A man would get up on winter nights while the firemen were on a run and close the station doors to keep out the cold and snow.
“He must have done that for years,” said Deputy Chief Fenwick, adding that the man’s son later became a fireman.
Often the men were asked to perform unusual chores.
“People used to come to us for everything. Most of the men were pretty handy.”
He recalls climbing ladders to get into apartments of persons who had locked themselves out, tinkering with car engines, consoling women who had fights with their husbands and giving bandages to children.
“They never went home for Band-Aids, they always came to us,” he said.
In the late ‘40s, before the station received its winter coal supply in the fall, the men would keep out the chill by collecting wooden broom handles from the city works department and burning them in the furnace.
For a retarded youth, now an adult, the station was his whole life and must have kept him going all these years, the deputy chief said.
Fireman gave him a badge and arm patch and in later years he was given a citizen’s band radio. He guarded the firehall when the crews were out and more than once he caught youths setting false alarms and held them until the firemen arrived.
No. 3 was closed because the department felt adequate protection could be provided from fire headquarters at Waterloo and York streets, about 1 ½ miles away, and because a station was needed in a more outlying area, the deputy chief said.
Supporters of the Bruce Street hall collected 800 names on a petition to keep it.
Now, the only thing left to decide is whether the third firehall built in London will be saved from the wrecker’s ball and used by the city in some other capacity.
by Mike Funston of The Free Press
EARL FENWICK . . . recalls memories of old No. 3
Old No. 3 firehall on Bruce Street has been boarded up after serving its neighborhood since 1880.
The men and equipment moved to new, more spacious quarters at Commissioners and Wonderland roads June 2.
But closing a building after 95 years can’t erase memories associated with it. Deputy Fire Chief Earl Fenwick, who began his career there, has lots of them.
He likes to remember the relationship between the crews that manned the station and the area resident.
“The people in the neighborhood accepted the firehall as part of their life,” he said. “Our relationship with them was 100 per cent.”
Deputy Chief Fenwick started work at the station in 1947, one of 19 Second World War veterans hired that year. He worked at No. 3 for 14 years.
Firemen used to cut lawns for elderly neighbors and befriend the children who loved to hang around the station. In return, people would do favours for the firemen.
A woman used to allow the crews to store food in her refrigerator because there wasn’t one at the hall. A man would get up on winter nights while the firemen were on a run and close the station doors to keep out the cold and snow.
“He must have done that for years,” said Deputy Chief Fenwick, adding that the man’s son later became a fireman.
Often the men were asked to perform unusual chores.
“People used to come to us for everything. Most of the men were pretty handy.”
He recalls climbing ladders to get into apartments of persons who had locked themselves out, tinkering with car engines, consoling women who had fights with their husbands and giving bandages to children.
“They never went home for Band-Aids, they always came to us,” he said.
In the late ‘40s, before the station received its winter coal supply in the fall, the men would keep out the chill by collecting wooden broom handles from the city works department and burning them in the furnace.
For a retarded youth, now an adult, the station was his whole life and must have kept him going all these years, the deputy chief said.
Fireman gave him a badge and arm patch and in later years he was given a citizen’s band radio. He guarded the firehall when the crews were out and more than once he caught youths setting false alarms and held them until the firemen arrived.
No. 3 was closed because the department felt adequate protection could be provided from fire headquarters at Waterloo and York streets, about 1 ½ miles away, and because a station was needed in a more outlying area, the deputy chief said.
Supporters of the Bruce Street hall collected 800 names on a petition to keep it.
Now, the only thing left to decide is whether the third firehall built in London will be saved from the wrecker’s ball and used by the city in some other capacity.
by Mike Funston of The Free Press
