Fourth Beach Was Number One With Town - The Standard, 2006

Page Al2 • The Standard

History Wednesday. January 25, 200

Blind River

Fourth Beach Was Number One With Town

By SHANNON QUESNEL For The Standard

Once the chores were done at the end of every summers day, from the 1935 to the 1900s, Blind River residents headed down to Fourth Sand Beach, a strip about one kilometre long, at the east end of town.

There, people made bonfires, washed their hair and, of course, they swam, provided they waded out far enough where the water was deeper.

Back then, there was rarely a day people could not be found at the beach, or at the beach's three siblings. First Sand Beach, Second Sand Beach and Third Sand Beach, each separated by a finger of land.

Alan McLean says he remembers Fourth Beach well, as he spent many days there as a teenager.

At his home last week. Alan recalled the summers of his youth. Outside, winter's slush was still thick on the ground. Inside, his wife, Gwen was baking bread. The couple raised seven children; and they both remembered the beach was a great place to take their children.

"We loved to swim and we loved the whole idea of water," says Alan.

You would take a box full of wood, a box full of food and a car full of kids and away you'd go," adds Gwen.

With clean water that was warm in the summer, the beaches were convenient places to stretch out, swim and socialize.

'Just ideal,' says Alan.

People who did not like to walk into cold water were out of luck, however.

'You would have to go maybe 100 yards out before it was deep enough to swim,'

Parents loved it, as they knew there was no sudden drop-off that would put their children in danger.

"Kids would learn to swim there, the bottom was clean and you could see little schools of fish,"

Families would even plan a day around the beach.

Alan says when he was a parent, he knew that by day's end, if his children ran and swam enough, they could easily be tucked into bed with no complaints, adding he even took his children's pajamas down to the beach.

As for Alan, when he was young, he got to the beach as often as he could. Even though he lived on a farm a kilometre away, with a hill in between, he says at the end of every day he made the trek to the beach.

'On a farm, you tried to get there every' night," he says.

After sweating all day, working with hay and with no running water, when Alan was a teen, getting wet at the lake was almost mandatory.

"Nowadays, you can't, but they used to have a shampoo that would float... but they don't allow that anymore."

He says everyone used all four beaches, but certain age groups still had their preferences.

Back in his day, new people used to find First Beach behind the Canadian-Pacific Railway station. Today, people can find the beach across from Tim Hortons, on Highway 17.

That beach was secluded and was frequented by ' little old ladies' who went "there for a dip, he explains.

"When I was a kid growing up, they would go down to the First Sand Beach, behind the station. And that's what they called it, 'behind the station.'

' I didn't know how (the adults) would swim, but when I grew up, every girl and every bov could,' he says proudly. 'Oh yeah, if you didn't, you wouldn't be in on the party."

When the lumber mill was running, up until its closure in 1969, logs would be transported down the Blind River and across the lake. Those that got loose washed up on the beaches.

Alan admits the logs were a problem. Sometimes the logs would be cleaned off the beaches, but others kept floating in.

"There was a lot of logging on that lake. You would have to climb over the logs to get to the water."

Cracking a small grin, Alan says people did not let the floating debris go to waste.

"On the other hand, there was lots of wood to make bonfires."

When he was about 45 years old, he says he used hammers and spikes to build makeshift rafts out of the lop. This way his children could push the raft to deeper water and have something to dive from. Or he would push one big log out and jump off of it.

"Kids will hang onto anything you know."

At the end of the day, the family let their raft drift.

"We didn't bring it back."

After learning to swim at the beaches, some children took their swimming to another level.

Back then, the lake was a lot higher and there was a government dock where boats, such as the Normac, would be berthed.

Alan says when the cargo boats came in, its crews unloaded the stock, into the dock's warehouse. There were no truckers back then, so items such as flour and apples came in by boat.

"And some of the brave kids would dive off the top of the warehouse."

And to top it off, the crew of the Normac was so friendly, they even allowed the youngsters onboard.

"Kids would run all over it and they got to know the crews."

Everyone loved the beach.

Like the young people, adults came to the beach as well.

People held Sunday school picnics on the beach, played volleyball and some Italian residents used to play bocce, or lawn bowling, on the sand, he explains.

The beach was a happening place.

"We would have wiener roasts, but they weren't roast: You would boil the wieners."

And sometimes, people sang; around the fire.

"It was a wonderful place."

One of Alan's fondest memories of the beach, was when a plane dropped in.

Continued on page A1

In 1934, at Fourth Sand Beach, Don MacGillivray (left) Harry Littleford. Alan McLean and Abe Shamas enjoy a day in the sun. It may have been called number four, but this beach was always number one with the residents of Blind River.