Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Plunges into Canada Read online

  So, on that cold November day, when the railroad finally was finished, Petty-Fizmaurice was nowhere to be found and Smith pounded in the spike he was given. It wasn’t silver or gold; it was just a standard-issue, iron railroad spike like all the others along the 4,828-kilometer (3,000-mile) track. Nonetheless, after the deed was done and the crowd dispersed, a railroad worker pulled out that spike, which had been slightly bent during Smith’s efforts, and replaced it with an identical (and straighter) one. The CPR cut pieces of the original spike to make jewelry for the wives of the railway’s board of directors. Then, in 1985, it donated what was left of it to the Canadian Science and Technology Museum to commemorate the ceremony’s 100th anniversary.

  Donald Alexander Smith drives in the last spike of the Canadian Pacific Railway.

  An 1864 poster advertises the CPR.

  Digesting the News

  Maggie, 76, from Edmonton, Alberta, eats paper. But not just any paper—only the Edmonton Sun. She began the diet in 2000 and does it every day. “I can’t explain it,” she says “It just tastes so good.” (She has also tried the Edmonton Journal but says it just doesn’t have the same flavor.)

  In 2007 Maggie ran into some trouble: a wad of paper got stuck in her esophagus, and she couldn’t swallow. So she went to see Dr. Robert J. Bailey at the Royal Alexandra Hospital, who was “able to advance the ball out the esophagus and into her stomach.” And what was the doctor’s reaction? Bailey noted that Maggie didn’t seem to have any vitamin deficiencies or mental problems. Apparently, he said, “She just likes to eat newspaper.”

  The Avro Arrow

  Most Canadians know that the Avro Arrow was a kind of high-tech plane, but do you know that it never even got off the ground? Here’s a classic from the BRI archives.

  A replica of the Avro Arrow heads skyward.

  Here We Go Again

  When the Soviet Union tested its first nuclear weapon in 1949, just four years after the end of World War II, it began to seem like the next world war, this time a nuclear war, might be just around the corner. The Soviets were also developing long-range bombers—could they be planning to attack Europe and North America?

  Canada’s response to the new threat was to develop jet fighters that could intercept and destroy any Soviet bombers before they attacked their targets. The first such aircraft, a jet fighter named the Avro CF-100 Canuck, entered service in 1953. By then, however, the Soviets were already working on a new generation of jet-powered bombers, which would be able to fly higher and faster than any they’d built before. The Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) needed a supersonic jet fighter to counter the Soviet threat.

  Do It Yourself

  Specifically, the RCAF wanted a plane that could fly at Mach 1.5 (one and a half times the speed of sound), climb to 15,240 meters (50,000 feet) in less than five minutes, and fly for 300 nautical miles without refueling. It also had to be able to fly day or night in any kind of weather. There were no existing planes that could meet those specifications, so in December 1953, the Canadian government awarded Avro Canada Ltd., the builder of the Canuck light aircraft, a $27 million contract to begin work on developing the plane. When completed, it would be the fastest fighter plane ever built.

  Building the Arrow, as the plane was called, was problematic from the start. The plan was to design the airframe and then buy the engines, the weapons systems, and the other major components from outside suppliers. But when its first and second choices for jet engines were both discontinued, Avro decided to design the engines in-house, only to encounter similar problems with its choices of missile and firing systems. All these setbacks caused the cost of the Arrow to soar, but the RCAF remained committed to the project. And while this was happening, the Soviet Union detonated its first hydrogen bomb and rolled out two different kinds of jet-powered bombers. There was no time to waste, and in 1955, the Canadian government awarded Avro a $260 million contract to build 40 planes: 5 test planes, followed by 35 production aircraft.

  Turning Point

  Avro had never built a supersonic aircraft before, yet managed to design and build one of the world’s most sophisticated aircraft in under four years. But the timing couldn’t have been worse: on the very day that the first flyable prototype was rolled out in October 1957, the Soviet Union sent Sputnik, the world’s first artificial Earth satellite, into space. If the Soviets were launching satellites, could nuclear-tipped missiles be very far behind? For a time, defense planners wondered if combat aircraft would become obsolete in the missile age. Meanwhile, the Arrow’s cost kept climbing.

  Earlier that year, Canada and the United States had formed the North American Air Defense Command (NORAD), and they’d already begun to coordinate their air defense (cost: $270 million). NORAD’s air defense system called for using Bomarc nuclear-tipped antiaircraft missiles, not fighter planes, to intercept enemy bombers. But could Canada afford both missiles and fighters?

  In September 1958, the Canadian Department of Defence calculated that after having spent $300 million on the Arrow, a further $871 million was needed to finish the program—an astronomical amount in 1958. So the government decided that rather than build 40 planes, it would commit to finishing only the handful already underway. The rest of the program was put under review.

  The Avro Arrow flew its first test flight on March 25,1958.

  Black Friday

  Then, without warning, on the morning of February 20, 1959, the Canadian government announced it was scrapping the Arrow immediately. Avro employees learned of the decision 20 minutes later, and at 4:00 that afternoon it was announced over the PA system that all 14,525 of them were out of a job. Another 26,000 Canadians working for Avro subcontractors also lost their jobs.

  What’s the Problem?

  The irony was that in spite of all the problems, Avro had managed to produce a very sophisticated aircraft that performed exceptionally well in testing. At the time the program was canceled, the company was only two weeks away from fitting the aircraft with improved jet engines that would likely have made it the fastest fighter plane in the world.

  Would the Arrow have broken the world speed record? We’ll never know for sure, because shortly after the program was canceled the Canadian government ordered everything associated with it—aircraft, models, tooling, spare parts, even blueprints and photographs—to be destroyed to prevent the technology from falling into the hands of Soviet spies. More than $300 million had been pumped into the project by then, but there was nothing to show for it. Avro closed its doors; Canada lost its edge in defense aviation and never built another fighter plane. Many of Avro’s top designers and engineers moved to Europe and worked on the Concorde. More than 30 went to NASA and played leading roles in the effort to land Americans on the Moon.

  Jet Set

  All that survives today are a couple of engines, a cockpit, a nose cone, a few diagrams, odd parts, and some historical photos. This, combined with the fact that it was the most advanced fighter of its day, has elevated it to mythical status.

  “Arrow Heads,” as fans are known, build replicas, trade conspiracy theories, and dream of what might have been. Wishful thinkers look at the 1959 photo showing the jets lined up outside the factory to be destroyed and note that one plane, RL-202, is not in the picture. Is it still out there somewhere, waiting to be found?

  That’s a Nice Wine

  Canada might not surpass California’s Napa Valley, but the country can produce one wine that Napa will never be able to: ice wine.

  Winter sets in at Thorny Vines vineyard in the Okanagan Valley.

  Frozen grapes on the vine

  Ice is Nice

  When life hands you frozen grapes, make ice wine. That’s what Walter Hainle did after an early, unexpected frost hit his vineyard in British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley in 1972. Having lived in Germany and seen eiswein, or ice wine, made from grapes frozen on the vine, he picked the fruit and pressed it before it could thaw, yielding 40 liters (10.5 gallons) of ice wine. His appro
ach was a relatively new one, as far as history goes. The ancient Romans probably made something like ice wine, but its secrets were forgotten until the 1790s, when growers in Germany lost a lot of grapes to an early, severe winter. The dispirited farmers left the frozen fruit on the vine with the idea of picking it when they needed it to feed their animals later in the winter. But one winemaker decided to try pressing the frozen grapes anyway…and discovered that although the process yielded very little wine, the result was exceptionally sweet and delicious. When temperatures drop below –8°C (17°F) or so, most of the water in the grape freezes. But sugars and other dissolved solids keep the last drops from freezing. So each grape yields only a little liquid—about 5 percent the amount you’d get if you pressed it unfrozen—but it contains all the grape’s flavor and sugar in it. And because it is more concentrated, its taste is richer and sweeter.

  The Canadian Crop

  The Niagara Peninsula’s perfect convergence of good growing conditions for grapes and consistent freezing make it the world’s most productive ice wine region. Inniskillin Winery in Niagara-on-the-Lake was a pioneer in Canadian ice wine, winning the 1991 Grand Prix d’Honneur at the prestigious Vinexpo held annually in Bordeaux, France. Since then, other Canadian regions have been challenging Ontario for its premier position, most notably British Columbia and Nova Scotia.

  The Nova Scotia Winter

  Icewine Festival

  Held every February, this festival features the region’s wines and local cuisine. Meanwhile, Icewine has become big business in Canada. (And by the way, that’s “Icewine” with a capital I.) While the rest of the English-speaking world spells it the old-fashioned way—“ice wine”—the one-word name is a registered trademark in Canada. So don’t be fooled: if it doesn’t call itself “Icewine” and carry the VQA (Vintners’ Quality Alliance) logo, it’s not Canadian.

  An employee picks grapes in winter in the Okanagan Valley.

  Bulksellers

  Joe and Ben Weider were two skinny Montreal kids who were tired of being beaten up by neighborhood bullies. It wasn’t long before they started throwing their weight around.

  Joe Weider shows off his physique.

  Turning the Tables

  Joe and Ben Weider were brothers who created a bodybuilding program that inspired a generation of comic book readers to send away for a bodybuilding booklet. They founded Tiger’s Milk protein bars, the International Federation of Body-builders (IFBB), the Mr. and Ms. Olympia competitions (which brought us the Terminator himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger), and a stable of magazines, including Shape and Men’s Fitness. Despite some legal skirmishes based on the incredible claims for their program, they became international successes. But their drive to bulk up the world was inspired by their early years on the mean streets of Montreal. As kids, Joe and his little brother Ben were the neighborhood bullies’ punching bags, but they figured there had to be something they could do to get even. First, they tried calisthenics, but that didn’t do much good. So 17-year-old Joe built a set of barbells from junked auto parts and started working out. In 1936 he not only routed the bullies but won the prestigious Quebec Weightlifting Competition. Seeing these benefits, his younger brother Ben (12 years old) started working out himself. With only $7 to his name, Joe—a seventh-grade dropout—decided to make some money by sharing his bodybuilding secrets in a 12-page booklet that he sold to friends and fellow weightlifters. He discovered there was a larger market too, and in 1938 began publishing a monthly newsletter, selling subscriptions for $2 a year. Within two years, this grew into a full-fledged magazine, Your Physique. It became Muscle Builder in 1966 and Muscle & Fitness in 1980, the name under which it continues to publish today.

  A before-and-after picture advertises Weiders’ body-building formula.

  Worth the Weight

  Looking for more ways to make money, the brothers started hawking mail-order barbells in Your Physique’s pages. After World War II (and a stint in the army for Ben), they expanded their operation: Joe moved to Southern California and focused on the U.S. side of their business with publishing, equipment, and food supplements. Ben stayed in Montreal, handled distribution, and became the founding president of the IFBB, a job he held until 2006. In 1946 the Weiders organized the first Mr. Canada bodybuilding competition, but it was their Mr. Olympia competition, which came almost two decades later, that led to their most lasting legacy. They created Mr. Olympia as a prestigious, well-paying contest. They wanted to legitimize bodybuilding, which—with its emphasis on bulging, oiled bodies in various poses—was generally thought of as a freakish exhibition, as opposed to a “real” strength sport like weightlifting. The goal of Mr. Olympia was to make the strength-training world take bodybuilding seriously, and the first competition took place in 1965.

  This Schwarzenegger statue stands in front of a Romanian fitness center.

  Pumping Iron in the Mainstream

  In 1969 Joe Weider invited a young Austrian bodybuilder named Arnold Schwarzenegger to compete in Mr. Olympia. Schwarzenegger came in second, but he tried again in 1970 and began a string of victories. As he gained more fame, he also gained some interesting endorsement deals with the Weider brothers. For example, comic book readers in the 1970s saw a long-running advertisement of Schwarzenegger lifting a bikini-clad woman and saying (via a comic book speech balloon), “I put 2 full inches on my arms, 3 inches on my chest, and trimmed 4 inches off my waist in just 7 weeks, thanks to the Joe Weider Musclebuilding Course—WHY NOT YOU?” A coupon in the corner invited readers to send away for a “free” (though they had to pay 25¢ for postage and handling) information booklet about the program. It wasn’t until 1977, though, when a documentary film called Pumping Iron hit the theaters that bodybuilding really went mainstream. The movie starred the sport’s biggest star, Schwarzenegger, and showed his journey through training and competition. Not only did the film prove that the camera loved Schwarzenegger (it got him a slew of movie offers), but it also made the sport part of the cultural norm.

  Some of that legitimacy failed to fall on the Weider brothers’ business, however. Throughout the 1970s and ’80s, they became the target of investigations over “misleading” claims made in advertisements for their supplements. In one case, they claimed that Weider Formula No. 7 would help users gain a pound a day. (It didn’t.) Another ad said that one of the Weiders’ vitamin pack/supplements built new muscle and was an effective alternative to steroids. The Federal Trade Commission objected, and over the years, the brothers paid multiple fines to settle the complaints.

  Ben Weider was co-founder of the Weider body-building program and would later become President of the International Napoleonic Society.

  Big Ben

  Still, in 2006, Joe was presented with the Venice Muscle Beach Hall of Fame’s Lifetime Achievement Award by his old protégé, now California governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger. The same year, Ben resigned the presidency of the IFBB to pursue interests outside of bodybuilding. He had become known as a formidable amateur historian of the Napoléon Bonaparte era of European history. His collection of artifacts included one of the famous hats Napoléon wore during the invasion of Russia in 1812. Ben also co-authored several books on the French emperor, speculating in one that Napoléon had been secretly assassinated by a member of his entourage while in exile. (No one ever corroborated that, but many historians agree he was probably poisoned.) Later in life, Ben received multiple honorary degrees and became a member of the Order of Canada and a Knight of the National Order of Quebec. In 2000 he was presented with the French Legion of Honor, the highest award given by the French government and established by Napoléon. Ben died in 2008.

  Celebrity 101

  Get to know your Canadian celebrities.

  •Ten-year-old Jim Carrey sent his resume to The Carol Burnett Show, hoping to land a a job. (He didn’t get the job.)

  Avril Lavigne performs in Vancouver.

  •In 2003, singer Avril Lavigne got her very own computer virus. The “Avril vir
us” was so named because it included photo attachments of Lavigne and opened a new browser that went to her official Web site. It also disabled antivirus software and hacked the infected computer’s passwords.

  •Kiefer Sutherland was born in London…England; his actor parents Donald Sutherland and Shirley Douglas were working there. After they divorced, he moved to California with his mother and sister. He didn’t actually live in Canada until he was 10.

  Actor Michael Cera dresses up as Captain America at the 2010 San Diego Comic-Con.

  •Michael Cera’s first acting role was in a TV commercial for Tim Hortons.

  Shania Twain poses at the Hollywood Walk of Fame Star ceremony honoring her in 2011.

  •When they decided to move from Ireland to Canada in 1912, Shania Twain’s great-grandparents tried to buy tickets for the maiden voyage of the Titanic. Luckily, they were too late; the ship’s third-class section (all they could afford) was already sold out.

  •In 1994, having just arrived from Toronto, 20-year-old Alanis Morissette was attacked on a street in Los Angeles. The muggers took her money, but left her bag. In it were a few lyrics for songs that ended up on her 1995 album Jagged Little Pill. She also wrote new songs for the album that sold more than 33 million copies worldwide and became one of the most commercially successful records of all time.