Toronto of the roaring 20’s was not quite the sophisticated megatropolis of today. To many, it was known as the Barbary Coast of Ontario and as hard a drinking town as ever was. For the ‘after hours’ set, the many blind pigs in the area catered to those hardy souls who never bought into the ‘last call’ scenario. One of the more renowned establishments was run for over 15 years by a legendary lass called Irish Lil. One of 17 children to a fine couple straight from the Olde Sod, Lillian had married a hard working German and they produced a lovely Daughter and industrious Son. Over the course of those 15 years, ‘Irish Lil’ knew more important people in Toronto than just about anybody but in 1937 the family moved to Detroit where her husband started a new ‘legal’ business. During her junior year in high school, Lil’s lovely Daughter fell in love with a most handsome classmate of pure Irish decent. Upon graduation, they were married in Detroit and soon after their first child was conceived. Halfway through the pregnancy the father was drafted into the military and Lil took her Daughter back to the family farm in Boulton, ONT………where in 1941 their first son was born and would forever be the apple of Lil’s eye. It always pleased Lil that this lad carried automatic dual citizenship status, as her true roots were in Canada.

Lil made it point to take this somewhat wild Grandson with her on many occasions, introducing him to a wonderful cast of Damon Runyon characters that had become her circle of friends. Growing up in Detroit offered many opportunities for this boy to travel back to the Toronto area where Lil proudly showed him off. Everyone could see that this boy had received a good dose of Lil’s genes and to all that met them together, they were a matched set. They both shared a special lust for life and pity the fool that dared to cause harm on this young lad as he was streaking towards adulthood. At 19, Lil’s Grandson went in the U.S. Navy and it was the first that he had been away form her for any length of time. It was debatable who suffered the most.

This lad quickly became an adult but he would forever be Lil’s little guy and their bond remained extraordinarily close right up to that day in 1994, when Irish Lil passed on, 3 months shy of her 100th birthday. There is a little Irish pub in the old Corktown area of Detroit where they still talk about the magnificent 3-day wake held for this very special woman. Now a man in his 50’s, Lil’s Grandson spent most of those three days recounting the endless stories and special moments with all of her friends and family. One such tale surrounded a special event that took place in 1966.

After an 18-month tour in ‘Nam’, Lil’s Grandson came home on leave and it was a joyous time for all involved. Much partying and celebrating took place and during one such evening at a favorite pub, Lil announced that she had a special present for her special boy. This was a time when a brash young Olympic gold-medal winner named Cassius Marcellus Clay had joined the Black Muslims and changed his name to Muhammad Ali. At the same time, the new heavyweight champion expressed no desire to accept any induction into the United States armed forces for duty in Vietnam.

The response was thunderous. Led by the American Legion, the U.S. public turned on Ali. Under political and social pressures, no American promoter would touch a proposed title fight between Ali and contender Ernie Terrell. Enter Harold Ballard, then little-known executive vice-president of Maple Leaf Gardens. While Gardens founder Conn Smythe was away on vacation that March, Ballard welcomed the chance to fill a lucrative date and opened his arms, and the Gardens, to the fight gang. Under pressures himself, Terrell backed out of the fight so Ali was matched up with the then heavyweight champion of Canada, George Chuvalo.

One of Lil’s brothers had good connections at the Garden’s and had got 4 tickets for this fight which Lil proudly presented to her special boy. Well, he proceeded to round up 3 good buddies and they took the train from Detroit up to Toronto for the fight. They managed to make the 5 hour journey without being thrown off the train for exceedingly rowdy behavior…..just barely. The fight went 15 rounds and is one of the classic ring battles of all time. Chuvalo’s claim to fame was that he had never been knocked off his feet and Ali did not turn that trick either. However, big George’s head looked like a wet sack of golf balls and Ali won every round with a display of speed and power not to be believed coming from a heavyweight.

After the fight, Lil’s brother and some of his friends took the four of them out for a little night action on Yonge Street, where they proceeded to get into a melee at a local pub and thrown into jail. Too inebriated to care, Lil’s Grandson slept it off in the drunk tank until the following morning. Much to everyone’s relief and amazement, they were processed out around 8:30am without nary a penalty or reproachment. Seems that word had gotten back to Lil, who made a few phone calls to old friends in high places, and the lot of them were cut loose, Scot-Free. As they were being processed out, one of the Constables in the jail came up to Lil’s Grandson and with a twinkle in his eye said; “Please say hello to your dear Grandmother for me. She’s one of my all-time favorite people on this earth.” That night stayed with the lad for the rest of his life.

Johnny, whenever I come across one of your posts these wonderful memories come flooding back. For that I am most grateful.

For you see, Irish Lil was my dear Grandmother.

-- So (cr@t.es), July 08, 2001

Answers

Soc,

That was beautifully written. Thank you for sharing a part of your life with us. You were, and are fortunate indeed, for being so loved by such a special lady.

Will someone pass me a tissue?

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), July 08, 2001.

Which was rowdier -- the actual fight, or the train ride there? LOL.

What a wonderful story, Soc. Thanks.

(Here's a tissue A.B. I have a whole box of them.)

-- (PatriciaS@lasvegas.com), July 08, 2001.

I think of "Blind pig" as being a Detroit term. Was it used in Toronto as well?

A neat story Socrates. As far as I know, my ancestors are dull by comparison to Irish Lil. My Dad did say we were related to the Scotsman James Watt who invented the steam engine but I think he was kidding around. His mother's maiden name was Watt and she was from Scotland. He also said we were related to the Dewar family of Scotch whisky renown.

-- Lars (larsguy@yahoo.com), July 08, 2001.

I enjoyed that very much. If Paul Harvey (assuming he's still around) is in need of a writer, I think I know where one may be found. 8^)

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), July 08, 2001.

Socrates,

As a son of the emerald isle myself (I was born just outside Belfast) I really enjoyed your post. What a great story! I'm glad that a simple post by me can trigger such wonderful memories.

I'm not sure when your grandmother last visited Toronto, but I'm sure that she would bemoan the loss of some of the old Toronto. If you ever make it up this way again look me up. I would consider it an honour to buy Irish Lil's grandson a beer or three.

Regards

JC

-- Johnny Canuck (j_canuck@hotmail.com), July 08, 2001.

Great story, Socrates. She sounds like a very special lady, That Lil. =)

-- (cin@cin.cin), July 08, 2001.

That was a nice story, Socrates.

-- helen (miss@my.own), July 08, 2001.

And now, the rest of the story.

David

For you to suggest that I could write for Paul Harvey is high praise indeed…thank you so much. I wrote this nostalgic musing @ 3am so my mind was nimble but the fingers were not….many little mistakes. I could be wrong but I believe Paul Harvey still broadcasts daily from his Chicago studios.

Lars

The use of the ‘blind pig’ terminology is mine and I’m not certain if these after hour’s clubs were referred to as such in Toronto…but I believe it to be so. Of course, never having set foot in one personally, my knowledge is somewhat limited;^)))

Bee, Patricia, Cin, and Helen

Thanks for your kind words and I’m pleased that you enjoyed my recollections. ‘Gram’ as I always called her was without a doubt the most important person in my entire life. It was from her that I learned the most critical lesson in life……live everyday with a passion and squeeze all you can out of every experience.

Johnny

The honour would be mine. This story is but one of hundreds I could tell regarding my dear Gram. You know, she was never really sick much for her entire life. A month before her passing, she had developed a mild case of pneumonia that ultimately caused her to go into the hospital. Two days later, she died peacefully in her sleep. She traveled up to Toronto at least 3 times a year and being one of 17 children she had lots of family and even more friends in that area. BTW, up until she was in her mid-80’s she drove herself everywhere…to say that she was self-sufficient would be a gross understatement. She played organized poker at a very high level up to the day she went into the hospital.

For many of my early years I would go back for visits to her family farm in Boulton and man I’ve got a bunch of good memories from there. I understand that Boulton is now an upscale yuppie haven with high priced homes the norm. Progress.

When I was four years old, Gram divorced her German husband of all those years and opened a little pub, where for decades the Motor City Irish movers and shakers would gather…….very much like a rowdy ‘Cheers’ type of place. It was there that she met a big Irishman named Mike Madden whose wife had died from cancer at an early age. Gram and Mike were an ‘item’ for over 30 years until his passing in the early 80’s. He was a high level executive with Ford Motor Company and they took me with them to Lee Iacocca’s retirement dinner where we sat at Lee’s table.

Lord I miss her.

-- So (cr@t.es), July 09, 2001.