Drop Dead Gorgeous Prose and Prohibition

My grandmother, mother and aunt in Atlantic City, circa 1927. You can see La Victoire Restaurant int he background. too bad you can’t see the other strollers. Alas.

Well, I just read in the NYT that the same person who directed Moulin Rouge, Baz Luhrmann, is making a 3-d version of the Great Gatsby. I love Moulin Rouge, the movie.

It stars Leonardo di Caprio, Carrie Mulligan and Toby McGuire, so great casting.

3D eh? I supposed to get the younger generation interested in classics. I hope it works. Redford’s Great Gatsby movie was not a great success. (I just saw that lately, as well, on TV.)

I recently listened to a dramatization of the book on BBC Radio Four, and what writing! Drop dead gorgeous prose. (I read the famous book back in college. American Lit with Last of the Mohicans and a lesser Melville work.) The same station had another dramatization, of letters between Fitzgerald and his editor. Very professional. The editor made only a few suggestions and Fitzgerald was open to them.

Anyway, my Jazz Age story is about Montreal. It’s kind of a radio play right now. Milk and Water features an imaginary meeting between my grandfather, Jules Crepeau, Director of City Services, Montreal and my husband’s grandfather, Tom Wells, a Westmount businessman who sells water and soft drinks.

A few years ago, when cleaning out my father in law’s house, I found a card of condolence from Mayor of Montreal Camillien Houde, addressed to Tom Wells’ widow, May. 1952 I think.

Camillien Houde was the Mayor responsible for forcing my grandfather to resign in 1930, so I was intrigued. “Hey,” I yelled to my husband, “Camillien Houde knew your grandfather.”

I have a scrap book of news clippings from around 1930, kept by my Aunt Flo.  All are about the forced resignation, over some Water and Power Purchase. So I did a little more Internet sleuthing, this was 4 years ago, and discovered that there was a file at City Hall under my grandfather’s name.

I visited their archives in the basement and photocopied the contents of the file. (A scholar told me that I might have trouble accessing it, as she did, but I just plunked down my grandfather’s ID card from 1929. The nice archivist asked me why I was English, if my grandfather was French.) The file contained more press clippings and some documents and letters.

Since then, I’ve done a lot more research, mostly from home as the Internet now contains lots of info. I was planning to write a Two Solitudes story involving the two ancestors… but it was only when  I saw the PBS Programme Prohibition that it hit me: My grandfather was at the height of his powers during the Prohibition Era.

Maybe that’s why the family always vacationed in Atlantic City! ( I had plenty of snapshots to prove it.)

So I did more research, which led to to another BIG Quebec story, the infamous, game-changing Laurier Palace Fire. And it led me into the murky world of Montreal Civic Politics in the 1920′s and into the sleazy worlds of tabloid and so called  ’respectable’ journalism. The Newspaper Business as it existed back then.

Milk and Water the Ebook, Free Ebook, Draft 1

Well, I’ve uploaded a ebook, Milk and Water, my first draft.

 

 

 

Milk and Water, about Montreal in 1927

And I’m posting it here as a test.

Now this is an historical work, literary non-fiction, a kind of format half way between a radio play and stage play.

Lot’s of Mayor Quimby (of the Simpson’s) style politics here. Or maybe not.

Lots of work still to be done. But now, with it posted here, I have to fix it up. That’s my method, you see.

Milk and Water – Montreal 1927

 

Jules Crepeau, as a boy. My grandfather, Director of Municipal Departments of the City of Montreal between 1921 and 1930, started at City Hall at 12. At 15 he was message boy in the Health Department, which is very useful for my play, Milk and Waterabout Montreal in 1927.

 

Here’s The First Draft of the First Scene: All Rights Reserved Dorothy Nixon 2011 (Whoops, 2012)

 

Montreal, Quebec, September 2, 1927.

 

Scene One.

 

Mayor from his office at City Hall: Allo. Mr. Crepeau. C’est Mayor Martin. Vous êtes renter chez vous. Très bien.

 

Jules Crepeau (from his home at 72 Sherbrooke West): Comment peux je vous aider, Monsieur le Mayor.

 

Mayor: Monsieur Crepeau. I will speak in English as I have a representative of the Royal Prince in my office.

 

Jules: D’accord. Your Worship. So will I answer in English. What is the problem?

 

Martin. Problem? No problem. I have a personal favour to ask of you, on behalf of our esteemed Royal guests. All in the strictest confidence, of course.

 

Jules: Comme Toujours. As always

 

Martin: Do you remember that Westmount bloke with the bottled water company, with the bullshit name?

 

Jules: Thomas Wells?  What’s bullshit about the name?

 

Martin: Not that name, the name of his company. Laurentian..ah

 

Jules: Spring Water.

 

Martin: Yes, the company that sells water it pumps from under Craig Street. Near our giant sewage collector.  So, Bull Shit.

 

Jules: Yes, well, I believe I have met him just recently.

 

Martin: He’s the short older man with the very very tall young wife.

 

Jules: Oh, yes, the amiable man with the very tall and very thin and very outspoken young wife.

 

Martin: The same man.

 

Jules: What about him?

 

Martin: Well, we need some of his bottled water delivered tonight to one of the mid-town dance clubs.

 

 Jules: Why?

 

Martin: Because the Royal Prince and friends might turn up there later on.

 

Jules: I understand.

 

Martin. The thing is, I would like 3 gallons delivered, merely as a precaution of course, but no one is to know. No one except  Mr. Wells – and you.

 

Jules: So he is to deliver it himself. Alone? The President of this company?

 

Martin: Yes. Discretion is of the utmost importance.

 

Jules: I see. I’ll do  my best. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to reach him on such short notice.

 

Martin: I’ve already taken care of. The thing is, ah,  I would like you to meet him at 11.pm in front of the Mermaid Cafe.

 

Jules: 11. pm. The Mermaid Cafe? But, I just got in, myself.  There was a meeting of the City Improvement League.  And you know how those ferocious Presbyterian Ladies refuse to ever let you go home.

 

Martin : Unfortunate. Do you know the address of the Mermaid?

 

Jules: How could I not?  It’s got a (clears throat) certain widespread reputation.

 

Martin: Well, well. You are speaking about the excellent dance music, I presume. But the Prince will not show up until after midnight. He is tied up at some stuffy dinner party at the top of the hill, probably at Ravenscrag.

 

Jules: May I ask, with all due respect, why can’t get His Royal Highness get his own people to bring the bottled water. The Ritz Carleton has hundreds of bottles stored in the basement, I’m sure, what with this latest typhoid..ah.. problem. The Radnor People from Three Rivers are the Official Suppliers.

 

Martin: The thing is, this, ah, is not an official kind of outing. The Royal Prince is hoping to slip away for a few hours.

 

In fact, this is a personal favour he is asking me, as a personal friend.  Don’t worry, I am sending over one of our more ambitious young police officers, un grand gaillard, to perform the heavy work.

 

All you and Mr. Wells, have to do is can stand outside with the water and wait. You don’t even have to go in. The Prince and his party will enter by the side door. Only then do you have the jugs delivered.

 

Jules: If it’s after midnight, everyone enters by the side door, I imagine.

 

Martin: Well, be that as it may.  Apparently, there’s a very good Jazz band playing tonight, from Kings of Harlem or Harlem Kings.  The Prince is young. He has a keen interest in modern forms of music.

 

And you recognize all the city reporters.

 

Jules: But they recognize me, too, as the person who, just a year ago, announced to the entire Montreal press corps the firm new closing hour of 12 am for dance clubs.

 

Martin: Jules. It’s the Royal Prince. Que voulez-vous?

 

Jules: Yes, of course. I understand.

 

Martin: You will be pleased to know, he specifically asked for you. His people thought you did a wonderful job organizing the official reception at City Hall a month ago.

 

Jules: You mean where we invited about 1,000 too many guests and where the Prince kept glancing at his watch and yawning between handshakes. I’m still fielding angry letters from society matrons who never made it into the reception line.

 

Martin: Well, yes, yes, That’s done then, I can count on you.

 

Jules: Certainement, Your Worship. (Hangs up the phone.)

 

Toujours quelque chose.

 

Little Girl: Papa?

 

Jules: Tu es encore debout, Marthe? Ou est Maman?

 

Girl: Elle prie dans le salon, avec Florida and Cecile.

 

Jules: Tu dois prier aussi.

 

Girl: Je n’aime pas prier. C’est ennuyeux. Peut tu me raconter un histoire?

 

Jules: No, Il faut que je sorte.

 

Girl: Juste une courte. Je pars pour couvent demain, tu sais.

 

Ah, Je ne peux pas ma chouette.

 

Mais je veux que tu restes.  S’il tu plait.

 

Jules: Nous avons eu de bons temps à Atlantic City, il y’a deux semaines.

Marthe:Tu n’étais presque jamais avec nous autres. Toujours des meeting.

 

Jules: Les rendezvous.(Kissing sound).  Bonne nuit, ma petite. Je promet de t’ammener au couvent moi-même demain.

 

Slam of door.

Definitely Not-French-Kisses 1927

The view of  the  St Jean Baptiste parade celebration in 1929, from my grandparent’s house at 72 Sherbrooke West, Montreal. (I know because someone actually wrote it on the back of this picture.)

Nice hats in 1929!

Well, as I write Milk and Water, , my play about Montreal in 1927, using my grandfather, Jules Crepeau and my husband’s grandfather, Thomas Wells, as characters, I keep doing more research.

I’ve reached the part on my first draft where I have to UNDERSTAND this Montreal Water and Power deal, and then figure out how much Thomas and Jules know.

Well, I assume Jules knew everything, the TRUTH, inside-out but, thank goodness, he doesn’t have to tell Thomas anything in the play, or I’d be in trouble.

Because the truth will never be known, only guessed at.

The Executive Council of the City of Montreal decided to purchase Montreal Water and Power post haste in February 1927, just a day after a majority share had been bought out by industrialist Lorne Webster.

They held an unofficial council meeting (breaking protocol with respect to the morning publication of the agenda of said meeting) and the aldermen present voted unanimously to buy the company – after dallying for a dozen years.

My grandfather wasn’t present at said session.

The Montreal Star (Hugh Graham) criticized the purchase, insinuating that some bribery must have gone down. An aldermen sued for slander (on behalf of all city aldermen) and he won in court.

The presiding judge said, in his June 1927 decision, that newspapers were supposed to attack the action, not the person.

But still the Star continued pressing on this issue, until they got satisfaction when Mayor Mederic Martin lost his job in  1928. The head of the Exec Committee, one M. Brodeur, had died in November 1927, while seated beside Mayor Martin in a limo in New York.

Unknown quantity, Camillien Houde was elected Mayor, and in two years my grandfather was forced to resign over this same Water and Power purchase, and he hadn’t even attended the unofficial meeting.

Anyway, as I read one of the articles in the Gazette on this ‘scandal’ – right beside it is an account of an other inquiry, into the Laurier Palace fire, an issue that personally involved my grandfather.

A Judge Lacroix is giving testimony, which sounds very familiar and very Presbyterian for a Catholic:

(I’m guessing this is translated.) “As a result of watching lurid tales of robbery and crime, small boys went out and emulated the doings of their favorite movie villain, while girls developed elaborate tastes by setting up the toilettes of the heroines of their standard. The prolonged love scenes, with their obscene open-mouthed kisses, “that are not human kisses. Not the kisses that French-Canadians give” do untold harm to the persons of both sexes who view them. For as a result of the artificial stimulation, they commit gross immoralities, the tragic result of which form a large proportion of the juvenile court cases.”

Well, the presiding Judge, Juge Boyer, comes out with his decision in late August, two days before my Milk and Water Play is set, and says that movies are not immoral as such, but recommends that children under 16 be banned from attending motion picture shows in future, even in the company of an adult

It’s a safety issue, he says. It was kids who got crushed in the Laurier Palace Fire, therefore kids are in danger in movie theatres, period.

Of course, the talkies were about to come in and I suspect this was the real reason for banning kids from movie theatres: it was a kind of compromise to please the clergy (both Protestant and Catholic) and the government.  Protestants (in Canada and the US)  had pushed for a ban like this since the Nickelodeon era, but as only immigrants went to ‘nickels’ and as they were all in the City, the Catholic Church didn’t seem to care that much.  But by 1921, there were as many Quebeckers living in the city as in the country. And by 1927 motion picture houses were being built in towns.

The judge said he consulted with parents of the working class during the Inquiry, and although some parents may have been freaked by the awful tragedy (well, what mother wouldn’t be) working class parents, as a rule, certainly didn’t think movies were terrible. Movies were the one leisure activity they could afford and many families went to the pictures together, parents and kids!

And some children, boys mostly, went in peer groups or alone. I mean, working class mothers weren’t stupid. They couldn’t watch their kids’ every move; they didn’t have nannies; so the movie house was a great place to ‘park them’ and the kids, especially as the boys really enjoyed the flicks.

The ‘teenager’ was being invented at the time, in the US and English Canada, thanks to ‘high schools.’ Quebec was a bit behind the times, with respect to ‘higher education.’ Even in the English Quebec, the ‘teenager’ was not a concept yet. Perhaps this ban contributed. My mother- in -law, born 1917, says that she had to dress up like a grown woman, hair make-up, to be able to sneak into movies underage, at 12 or 13.

The idea that cops and robbers films were a bad influence on boys, I think has been sufficiently debunked over the years. However, the fact that Hollywood images make girls want ‘things’ isn’t a fallacy (mixed metaphor) it’s as true as can be. But only in Quebec did they think this a bad and dangerous thing. (Remember, many men believed one reason young girls entered the sex trade was for a love of luxury.)

Anyway, this is all in my play, Milk and Water. Just got to make the dialogue Ebb and Flow. There’s an ebb and flow of characters in the play, as people come and go from the Dance Hall as Thomas and Jules have this long talk about politics and business and the ethics of selling water in 1927 Montreal, when that City was a place to reckon with.

PS. I read in a thesis on Parks in Montreal that in 1927 a group of teenagers were brought into the magistrate’s office for having sex in public and they blamed it on the outdoor movie they just saw.

Sinning Grannies 1927 Montreal

 

 

I bought myself a clean notebook (paper kind) and a smooth writing pen, and got to writing Milk and Water.

 

Because in the past, that is how I penned (literally) my first drafts. These drafts would be incomprehensible to anyone but me, and even I had to rewrite them within a few days or lose them forever.

 

My method, as it were.

 

Now, in Milk and Water, Jules Crepeau, French Canadian Director of City Services and Thomas Wells, Anglo President of Laurentian Spring Water are sharing their opinions about life, business and politics and ethics, as they await the possible arrival of David, the Prince of Wales outside a rather shady dance hall in early September 1927. (They are delivering fresh water as there has been a recent typhoid epidemic.) They thrust and parry, they attack and counter attack. They share intimacies, too.

 

As the speak, a representative sample of Montreal citizenry, pass in and out of the place, which is supposed to be closed at it is after 12 am.

 

But on one point they will agree: That the Presbyterians are annoying – although both men have to deal with them, my grandfather at the City Improvement League and my husband’s grandfather at Westmount dinner parties.

 

Thomas will say that the Presbyterian ladies are always trying to snare his wife into good works. He’ll then tell the story of how she hides bottles of booze under her children’s pillows on train trips home to the US. And my grandfather will say how his wife loves to gamble at card and at Blue Bonnets Raceway.

 

True stories.

 

Now, in 1910, 1911, the Presbyterians sent college students out into the streets of Montreal to collect data on the poor. (This is according to Mariana Valverde.) This was because they were afraid the STATE would take over what they perceived as their job, taking care of the poor.

 

I want to half my grandfather mention this: A certain scholar, Michele Dagenais has said that Montreal in this era was the model for the modern welfare state. And the delivery of fresh water (and removal of waste) figured largely in the evolution of this state for reasons a bit too complicated to explain right here right now (but I have to find a way to condense these key concepts and put them in Milk and Water, my play.)

 

Neither wife belongs to any Do Gooder Committees, although Jules’ wife, Maria, the daughter of a master butcher, never turns down a tramp’s request for food at the back door. And she ably nurses the sick, with her home remedies. And she visits old shut ins regularly, often dragging her children with her.

 

True Story.

 

Anyway, as this is the Prohibition Era in the US, it all fits in. Indeed, a certain W.E. Raney, a former Ontario Attorney General, has denounced Jules Crepeau personally at the 1926 Senate Hearings on Prohibition.  Jules, apparently has too much power over the police and Raney cannot figure out why.

 

Raney quotes a great deal for the 1925 Coderre Report on Police Corruption and Incompetence.

 

And in 1927, the summer, my grandfather and family spend their vacation in Atlantic City, instead of Old Orchard Beach. Hmmm.

 

Now, I lived on Coolbrook Street in the 60′s, adjacent Decarie and that’s where many fine Montreal Restaurants were located because of Blue Bonnets.  Ruby Foos, Miss Montreal, Piazza Tomasso,  and Miss Montreal…and in the 30′s Frank de Rice had a restaurant there.. He was a sportsman, into racing and such. Frank de Rice, I think, had the first Italian Restaurant in Montreal. My mom, Jules’ daughter, pronounced it like the grain. His restaurants burned own a lot, as did his stable once. I read this in the Gazette

The Milk of Human Kindness and Social Responsibility

Advertisement for anti wrinkle cream at the back of the Report of the Canadian Council of Women 1913. Well, the brochure for the 1912 Child Welfare Exhibit had an ad for Nestles baby formula, even though the exhibit greatly recommended breast feeding.

I just discovered this 1913 report (on archive.org) and was thrilled. In 1913, the Canadian Council of Women had an 8 day meeting in Montreal and I know for a fact Edith Nicholson, of my Flo in the City book, attended, at least one night.

The night Mrs. Philip Snowden gave a speech. The exact speech is paraphrased in the report (I’ll transcribe it next). Anyway, Edith writes about her speech in a May 1913 letter and says, “She is not militant, and for that I am very sad.”

Edith is not working in 1913. She quit her job at Ecole Methodiste in Westmount and only got another teaching job the next year, in Richmond. In May 1913, Marion got engaged to Mr. Blair (my husband’s grandfather) and that’s where Flo in the City will end.

As I have written before on this blog, Edith Nicholson, the pious, fashion conscious and gossip loving Edith, was a militant suffragette sympathizer. I suspect she also attended the November 1912 speech by Barbara Wiley, the unapologetic militant from England. (She cut out a clipping about her arrival in Montreal, which I have posted on my http://www.tighsolas.ca/ website. It seems when reporters went to greet Ms. (he he) Wiley at the station, they missed her. They were looking for a dowdy angry type to detrain but Mrs Wiley was tall and attractive and walked right by them all.

Anway, The Montreal Council of Women (part of the Canadian Council) supplied a report to this Report (as did many other Chapters from all over Canada.) I transcribe the first part of the Montreal Report here…

The Montreal Local Council closes its nineteenth year with a roll of forty-four affiliated societies, forty-five patrons, and one hundred and twenty four associate members of whome forty five are new members.

Miss Derick, Past Presient, has been made a Life Patron of the National Council as a recognition of her services and three new Annual Patrons of the National Council have ben obtained.

Six regular and four special Executive meetings have been held. The Annual Meeting of May 1912 was rendered especially noteworthy by the presence of HRH the Duchess of Connaught
who was graciously pleased to attend and to receive flowers and an address in French. Short addresses were made by Principal Peterson of McGill University, Dean Moyse of the Faculty of Arts; Mr. Godfrey, City Commissioner and Mr. W. A. Coote of London, England.

A public meeting was called the following day, to hear Mr. Coote speak of his mission. At it were heard a number of earnest men, whose public work had brought them a knowledge of local conditions. Later, at a men’s meeting, a committee was chose to act with the Local Council in opposing the traffic in women.

Last year, Tag Day, undertaken jointly with the Federation Nationale, brought in $14, 936.00, o f which the Council got $7,468.00. Of this amount, 3,000 was given to the milk station, leaving 4,200 to be distributed among the affiliated charities. In September, a lecture was given under the auspices of the Council on the right to the teaching of sex hygiene to young people. The proceeds were used to child welfare work.

On November 4, Miss Barbara Wilie was given an opportunity of speaking on suffrage and later on Mrs. Forbes Robertson Hale was brought in to lecture on the same subject. During the summer, the United League of Women Workers of the United States made a visit to Montreal and was entertained at tea by members of the Council, on whose representation, the City Council gave the workers a ride around the city park.

The Milk Station has been carried on in its new location throughout the summer and winter, with an average attendance of 100 children. The modifying is now done at the station by an Argyle Nurse, the council having expended 493 dollars for the necessary equipment. The Victorian Order nurse takes full charge for the rest of the work,with excellent results. She has a record of an average of 280 visits a month which does not include the babies seen by her at the station in the afternoon. 291 gallons of milk a year have been given without charge.

While 3, 280 gallons have been paid for, though frequently at a price before cost. The death rate has been only 1 percent, including the babies which died within 24 hours of being brought to the station. The city official to whom this report was made, found this percentage so low, he refused to accept it until he could examine the records, then assured the nurse that if the Council were to open other stations, the City would be very ready to help. An interesting evidence of appreciation is shown by the Maternity hospital which has sent many of its discharged patients to the station for baby food. At Christmas time a Christmas tree with presents and Christmas cheer was provided to the mothers and babies and older children.

Montreal Council of Women

Richmond couple. Possibly the Hills.

Hmm. So it has taken me two months to complete the first rough draft of the 1908 chapter of Flo in the City, a work in progress, based on the letters of http://www.tighsolas.ca/.

I copied and pasted the text and printed it out and it came to 20,000 words on 40 pages. I looked up how many words typically make up a middle school book and learned it was 20,000 to 40,000.

Now, I wonder if I will make 1908 a book in itself. Maybe.

I read it over. I liked some of it and hated some of it. It works when I ‘show’ and don’t ‘tell’. Well, of course.

I think I will put it aside, to clear my head and, gee, I dunno what to do. There’s so much more to write. 1908 is the shortest and least eventful year. But it’s the intro and I have to get it right before I attempt the rest of the book.

Maybe I will read more letters from outside the 1908-1913 time period. I re-read a few the other day, from 1914 and the war years, to dig out some of Flora’s expressions…

“Some style, don’t you think? To come sailing home in an auto?”

One thing I am sure of and that is “My Ma.”

“I heard the door open and close, but it was only Coupland. He is poking around in the barn. I believe he is thinking of doing a few strokes of work.”

“This is only going to be a scrap of a note.”

“Only one more week of slavery.” (Teaching)

“I am coming home. Please have a bed ready as that is the best way I can be entertained is to be led to my couch as I am nearly dead, but not quite.”

“Now, my dear Matel. Hurry up and spend the money. If you are going to hoard it you won’t get anymore. How do you like that?”

We had our ‘day at home’ and certainly gave the town a good raking over.

(new baby boy) If you can buy a little dress for him I will be charmed to embroider it.

I am looking after your companion right smart.

I have been living the simple life since Easter, nothing to do but work. Ain’t it H___ to be poor!

The snap of Edith is fine, but I look like some jackdaw. I am not going to have my picture taken any more.

A fellow was there, a Captain. He was fine but a real Scotchman written on his face.

Interesting thing happened yesterday. I noticed the Montreal Council of Women linked to my page on well, the Montreal Council of Women. Years ago, upon starting my Tighsolas research, I approached them to have a look at their archives and was not at all successful. Their website at the time said anyone could visit and check them out, but when I phoned, they were apologetic “Our archives are in disarray. So, I went to the Biblioteque Nationale and found a couple of boxes with info from 1909, summarized it and posted it. Now the MCW says they are having an anniversary celebration in 2012, and will write a history. Gee, this would be very useful for me, as Flora is going to have a meeting with Carrie Derick… President of the MCW in 1912, when she explores signing up with the suffragettes. A biography of Carrie Derick exists at McGill, and only McGill from what I can see. That I can get a hold of.