The fourth brouhaha

(R) Gwendolen Lazier Braidwood, on her horse, presents an invitation to U.S. president Calvin Coolidge (L).

There are three brouhahas currently underway concerning the future of the Wellington convenience store at the corner of Wharf Street and Main. (That has a nice ring to it: perhaps they should turn it into a blues song based on the one about standing on a corner in Kansas City.) Of course, there is nothing wrong about brouhahas on the corner of Main and something: just ask people in Picton about their new LCBO building.

The first brouhaha concerns whether the County should have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to acquire the store in order to buy its way out of a potential liability headache brought on by the underground course of Lane Creek. However, the fact is that it did so: it’s water under the bridge (or the culvert) now.

The second brouhaha concerns whether the County should refrain from demolishing the store until it evaluates the potential for its conservation (as a building, not as a heritage convenience store). A petition has been going round the village, and a public meeting is scheduled for July 23 at 6:30 p.m. at Wellington Town Hall.

The third brouhaha has to do with whether, if the County does have to demolish the store, it should simply replace it with a parkette. The argument is that Wellington doesn’t need a parkette and that it would create negative space on Main Street, equivalent to putting up a sign stating “This is the place the County wouldn’t build over top of for fear of liability,” or “Sit here at your own risk and enjoy the parkette, if you can.” More sorely needed and more appropriate to the site and the streetscape, say those with hot collars, is commercial space— whether that means the County simply sells the vacant land as is; rehabilitates it and sells it; redevelops it and sells it; or rebuilds it, holds it and leases it out.

Now as far as I can see, these three brouhahas are perfectly legitimate. I don’t think they need me sticking an uninformed oar in to heat them up. So I’m staying above that fray. My noble aim is to create a fourth brouhaha. That brouhaha only kicks in, however, if the store building cannot be saved, and the County says that there must be a parkette. If that comes to pass, who says that we can’t give the place a little pizzaz?

While I don’t like to suggest that I get pizzaz inspiration from Picton, I can’t help but remind myself that Picton has become the home of (yet another) John A. Macdonald statue. Could Wellington do something similar, only, of course, better? And just how could it do that, you ask rhetorically. My answer is to erect a taller statue of a superior being with older antecedents. In other words, an equestrian statute of a United Empire Loyalist woman. And therefore, my proposal is that, if brouhaha number four has to come to pass, we erect a statue in our parkette of (drumroll, please…) Gwendolen Lazier Braidwood.

Gwendolen Lazier Braidwood (I’ll call her Ms. GLB for short), a resident of Wellington, rode her horse from Belleville to Washington, a distance of some 800 miles over 32 days in 1924. The ostensible aim of her sponsor, the City of Belleville, was to invite U.S. president Calvin Coolidge to attend the 140th anniversary celebration of the landing of United Empire Loyalists in the Bay of Quinte. Today it would perhaps be called a publicity stunt, albeit one involving considerable fortitude on the part of Ms. GLB. Prior to getting ready for her trip, she had never ridden a horse; nor did she do so afterwards. And she was all of 18 years old at the time.

According to a report by Magaret Haylock Capon, whose writing I acknowledge as my primary source material—I also acknowledge the help of the Head Curator of County Museums— Ms. GLB carried with her a pair of curling tongs, two changes of undergarments, two blouses, one black crepe dress with removable sleeves, patent leather pumps, a Spanish shawl and a small revolver. The latter tool she would employ after a gang of young men, bent on robbery, blocked her way. She shot out a tire of their vehicle (presumably, not a horse) and managed to scare them off long enough to make her getaway.

Ms. GLB was feted at many stops on the way. Just outside Philadelphia, she was met by General Butler, the former head of the U.S. Marine Corps. Says Ms. GLB, “thinking to impress him, I announced that at Belleville, we had the largest distillery in the British Empire. There was a dead silence, then General Butler explained that he had been sent to clean up Philadelphia. That night, we went out raiding roadhouses. It was fun watching people climbing out of windows and trying to get out of sight.”

As the accompanying photograph demonstrates, Ms. GLB did make it to Washington and did get to see President Coolidge, who sent a representative to the United Empire Loyalist function. In later years, she remembered her encounter vividly. Her horse had just knocked Coolidge’s hat off, and consequently “it is the only picture you will ever see of Coolidge smiling.” She was welcomed by cheering crowds on her return to Belleville, and sold her horse—his job done—to a little invalid boy who lived near Belleville. Ms. GLB went on to live to more than 100 years.

You know what? Her story is so inspiring, maybe we should erect a statue in honour of Ms. GLB in any event, parkette or no parkette. Then we wouldn’t have to rush through brouhahas two and three just to get to brouhaha four.

A public information meeting about Wellington’s downtown hereitage is scheduled for this Thursday, July 23 at 6:30 p.m. at Wellington Town Hall.

dsimmonds@wellingtontimes.ca