Who is “Museum Worthy”?
In February of 2020, the museum launched a new exhibition “The Laird of Lindsay and the Mayor of Gabtown” (curated by Ian McKechnie), as a compare and contrast look at two men born in small town Ontario 125 years before.
Leslie M. Frost
The first man to be profiled was Leslie Frost (1895-1973), who was born in Orillia, Ontario, served in the military during the First World War and then moved to Lindsay in 1921 to open a law practice with his brother Cecil. Leslie was a rising star and married Gertrude Carew, the daughter of local lumber baron John Carew. Moving from the law to the political arena, Leslie became the Member of Provincial Parliament for Victoria in 1937, before becoming Premier of Ontario from 1949-1961. He was known locally as the “Laird of Lindsay” and later as “Old Man Ontario.”
Leslie Frost stacked accomplishments to his name. As Premier, he increased education and healthcare spending, introduced anti-discrimination legislation, and expanded voting rights for Indigenous peoples. Following his retirement, he served as the first Chancellor of Trent University, enjoyed historical research and wrote four books. A public school bears his name on Angeline Street in Lindsay, Ontario, the Frost Campus of Fleming College and the Frost Centre for Canadian Studies at Trent University pay homage to his support of education, while the Frost Building as Queen’s Park remembers his political service.
Stanley Dayton
The second man to be profiled, as a comparison, was Stanley Dayton (1895-1990), of Little Britain in Mariposa Township, Ontario. He too enlisted to serve in the First World War but his service records show he did not make it through the Barriefield training camp due to ill health. Coming home, he made a living with farm and road maintenance work. In the 1930s, rather than the law, Stanley took up his pen as it were, to become the Little Britain correspondent and subscription agent for the Lindsay Daily Post along with his wife, Florence Bradford.
The Daytons gathered the local news of the day, the events and life milestones celebrated or grieved by their neighbours and shared them through the Little Britain column in the paper. Their corner just north of Little Britain, as the distribution point for local news and gossip became known as “Gabtown” and Stanley was the “Mayor” of it.
Over the years, known to one and all, Stanley grew from the bullied, poor schoolboy into the “local character”. He was frugal, disliked change and while he was often thought to be eccentric and gullible as an adult, he was also known to be a treasure trove of local knowledge and lore, as well as a really good friend.
Comparing the two men, it’s obvious to all why Leslie Frost would be chosen as a featured individual for a museum exhibit. He was a great man, who, although living somewhat modestly, had wealth, stature and power. He was known to one and all across Ontario at one time.
Stanley Dayton seems the less obvious choice. He was a regular person. He didn’t have wealth, or stature or power. He was a local man, who lived modestly as well, but he was also known to one and all in his community. He was kind, and involved and he cared about his neighbours. His newspaper columns ensured the preservation of the snapshot of Little Britain life for many years.
When the exhibit launch event happened on that chilly February night, something unexpected happened. More people came that remembered Stanley Dayton personally, than Leslie Frost. They shared stories of how he loved a good piece of pie and a church supper, his interactions at the bank and how his car had once been tied to a tree by local children. Community museums like ours have a special opportunity and dare we say, obligation, to tell the untold stories and highlight both of these men. Special and important for the obvious reasons, of course, but also special and important for the less obvious ones.
Stanley Dayton made a positive impact in his community. He was kind and a good friend. He overcame being bullied as a child, and even somewhat as an adult, by working hard and continuing to be involved in local events. He took the time to get to know his neighbours and they knew him. He is indeed, “museum worthy”.
As we had visitors enjoy this exhibit, especially the younger visitors, we were struck by how impactful the concept of “museum worthiness” was to them. In an era of being Internet famous, or becoming famous or valued for wealth, notoriety, or simply stardom from stage or sport, the children could reflect on whether they could one day be featured in an exhibit here in the museum. What would be the subject? How would they impact their community? Could they live a life where they would be remembered for their work, their art, their kindness, what they built or who they helped? It was something to be considered.
Community Memories of Leslie Frost Included in the Exhibit
Affectionately known as Old Man Ontario, Mr. Frost throughout his lifetime never failed to recognize, with a hearty handshake and a warm greeting, friends in every walk of life. And no street or concession line in Ontario was without his friends.
– William G. Davis, Premier of Ontario, 1971-1985
We used to go down to his cabin at Pleasant Point and eat and have a few drinks...When he was premier he’d throw out a question, start an argument, and then just sit back and listen. I think sometimes he got an idea or so from it. He called us his kitchen cabinet.
– Dr. Leonard Shier, Friend of Leslie Frost
I was very young when Mr. Frost passed but I do remember being very upset when I heard of this, because we would visit Mr. and Mrs. Frost every Christmas Eve. You see my parents worked for them at Frost Insurance in Lindsay. Then, later on, my father bought the insurance office from him. I would remember being with his lovely wife in their home on Sussex Street, and they would allow me to ride up their stairs on their electric chair. Pretty cool back then.
– Karen Ferguson, née Stewart
Frost was especially fond of fall fairs, Hodgson recalled, because it was there he met the “common people” he identified with. “He’d visit food displays and ask the women what ingredients they used in their baked beans. He’d go on for ages inquiring about their recipes.”
– Glen Hodgson , M.P.P., 1967-1975,
as quoted in The Lindsay Daily Post, 1973
He had a winter cottage on one side of the road [at Pleasant Point], and a summer cottage on the other side. He was always looking for assistance [with yard work]. He would arrive in the driveway and blow his horn, and he and Gertrude would sit in the driveway and wait for you to come out...His endearing term was "Sonny, I need you to help me with such-and-such." He'd get his work clothes on, and he would come out and show me what he wanted done, and we would work together.
– Vernon Avery
Community Memories of Stanley Dayton Included in the Exhibit
I remember Stanley wanting free bank calendars and pens. They were all chained down but he would be after one that was just laying around. I remember he would say in his SLOW speaking voice- "I don't suppose you would have a pen I could have, would you?? He was actually after a free anything!
– Nancy Webster
I remember when David Gilson and I were riding our bikes and we stopped at Stanley Dayton’s garage…And what was inside [but] that Model “T” Ford…We both thought that was cool… You could tell it hadn’t been on the road for a very long time…Wonder who actually bought that Model “T?”
– Jeff Berry
He was always ready to go to any Strawberry Social, or the Steam Shows, and he always enjoyed the Lindsay Fair...He had a very dry sense of humor, and he enjoyed sharing his memories, and I enjoyed hearing about things of the past.
– Ruth Coppin
He did like mom's pies. "Much obliged for the pie" was what he would tell Dad.
– Merl Bartley
He was a very careful shopper! I would take him to town and leave him at the Dominion Store on Kent St. to do his shopping, and then pick him up when it was time to go home. He would get into the car and tell me all about what he bought, and what he would like me to fix for him. Almost always it would be a turnip, some fish cakes, and maybe some sausage. He would have bought a pie or some sweet treat, but he never paid full price for it. He would find what he wanted, then shuffle up to Mr. Reid, or someone else working on the floor, and ask “Is this the best you can do?” and they would mark the price down for him. He would tell me what he got, and then he would say, “And I got it for my price!”. It delighted him to have saved a little, and still have his treat.
– Ruth Coppin
Now that I am a lot older and thinking back, Stanley was an icon, a nice man. I am glad I knew him and met him, even with all his quirks...the constantly moving thumbs and bushy eyebrows.
– Jeff Berry
Written by Barbara Doyle