Hanley Spur: Whither Thou Goest, I Can't Go

[OPINION-EDITORIAL] - Kingston, Ontario.

I sat in my vehicle. Ready to explore. Could I drive across town to 'visit' the Hanley Spur? Apparently, my mis-spent youth had kept me from making this visit years ago. I'm sure my Dad and I had taken some Saturday morning drives - once I'd photographed that unwitting potato car at Quattrocchi's. Another time, vessels at Canadian Dredge & Dock. A few times, CP was at the Queens interchange leaving cars for its orphaned industries then served by CN. But where were my photos of peddler freights making their way along Rideau Street, crossing Railway Street, nearing Place d'Armes? Nowhere. No album held them. Only my imagination.

To be sure, vestiges remain. I can find remnants. Tattered historical leftovers. Composted vacant lots and refuse-riddled rights-of-way. But there is no clank of couplers, no squeal of flanges and no cinder-smoke rising between the roofs.

Discouraging? Slightly. Defeating? No.

Together, we'll have to patch together a quilt made of squares of memory. City blocks crocheted together forming a historical blanket covering the waterfront neighbourhoods. Pictures and reminiscences. Stories and sketches. They're out there. This is no scenic drive, no travelogue or car rally. This will be a scavenger hunt. This blog is a beginning. A preface to progress preserved, and in some cases, posterity postponed.

So I put my keys away. And looked for a chronological crochet hook, ready to go to work. I imagined myself at the notional nexus of the the Hanley Spur and Cataraqui Street. Sun-dappled stucco facing shadow-soaked bricks - I stood at the intersection of today and yesteryear.