A View From the Top of the Shell Tower

In 1955, long before Toronto had any of its signature glass skyscrapers, the Shell Tower opened on Princes’ Boulevard. It was one of Toronto’s first buildings made of steel and glass, stood 37 metres tall and was topped with a two-sided clock that chimed on the hour.

At night, it was illuminated by fluorescent exterior lights and incandescent internal lighting. It had an elevator to the observation deck at the top. It was a sensation. And for the first time, you could see the whole Ex spread out before you.

My brother Johnny and I lined up to climb to the top as soon as we could. And there we stood, in shock and in awe. We saw the graceful parabolic arc of the new Dufferin Gates, which first appeared in 1959.

Whenever we went near the Dufferin Gates, Johnny always stopped at the Canadian Navy display, where you could buy military surplus gear — including WWI gas masks.

And there was Borden’s Elsie the Cow, in her flower-bedecked stall, with her husband Elmer and calf-children Beulah and Beauregard.

We saw the Grandstand, home of the R.C.M.P. Musical Ride and, in 1954, headliners Dale Evans and Roy Rogers — though Johnny was always more enthralled by the car stunts performed by the Hell Drivers outside it.

And over there was the Midway, with its stirring smell of greasy onions, horses, candy floss and always a dirigible flying overhead. Tawdry freak shows and seedy gypsy fortune tellers. The barker at the Pink Poodle, calling out: “Get your doggy, ‘oggie, ‘oggies here.”

We could see our favourite rides — the Rocket and the Round Up, both horrifying and stomach churning. The bingo tent where I once won a Brownie camera and a kitchen canister set. The grungy photo booth where four pictures cost a quarter.

The Tower became a meeting place, where fairgoers could glimpse the Ferris wheel and the end-of-day fireworks fading into the dark. It was renamed in 1973 when the Bulova watch company took it over, but fell into disrepair.

By late 1985, the Bulova Tower was slated for demolition. A Save the Tower Action Committee — headed by architect Brigitte Shim, writer Pierre Berton and city activist Jane Jacobs — organized a rally, circulated a petition, released balloons, and flew a plane overhead with a banner reading Save the Bulova Tower.

They failed. A year later, the tower was demolished.