ODDS’N’SODS — The McDonoughs of Haileybury

My father-in-law, Hec McQuarrie, was a shaft-sinking contractor and, starting in Cobalt, Ont., he put down exploration shafts in several of the early gold finds in Ontario and Quebec.

Hec’s mining stories usually would include references to the famous McDonough family of Haileybury, and his oft-repeated comment was that “whenever a new gold find was reported, there would be a McDonough behind every tree.”

Joe McDonough reportedly had nine sons who were active in gold exploration. My first contact with a McDonough was in the early 1940s when my wife and I were going to Toronto on vacation. South of Temagami, we were rattling over that miserable “wash board” gravel trail called the Ferguson Highway when a Buick Roadmaster appeared in the rear-view mirror.

The automaker’s Roadmaster always drew attention as it was General Motor’s first “personal car” and had a distinctive grille, a beautiful body built on an extended Cadillac frame and a large straight-8 engine. To have a Roadmaster in Canada marked the owner as a person of substance. The Buick passed us at top speed but didn’t make the first curve. We watched in amazement as it shot up into the air and then tumbled end-over-end down into a steep ravine.

We stopped and went down to the wreck and got another surprise as the severe “jolts” had bounced open the driver’s side door, throwing the driver out, but only partially. Another jolt had closed the door with his body outside but his lower legs were inside the vehicle.

He was unconscious, had a weak pulse and was bleeding from his eyes and nose. I rushed up to our car to get a jack and a tire iron to try to free him. My wife remained on the road to flag down help.

Traffic was sparse and I had the car jacked up and the driver removed when two young men came down to help. They had a medium-sized truck and worked for a provision company in North Bay.

We carried the accident victim to the truck and placed him on one of our quilts on top of cardboard cases of provisions. The truck took off for the Ontario Provincial Police office in Temagami and we followed behind. The OPP office phoned “emergency” at Haileybury hospital and we stayed to help the OPP complete the accident report. Because the quilt was a wedding present, we asked the OPP officer to include a footnote to his report advising the we would pick up our quilt at the OPP office in Haileybury on our return in two weeks.

From the accident victim’s wallet, we had learned that his name was McDonough, from Haileybury. His wallet, watch and money were turned over to the OPP officer.

Returning from vacation, we stopped at the OPP office in Haileybury and learned that the accident victim was in a coma and, having but one lung, the doctors were not optimistic. We reviewed the accident report, but the quilt was not mentioned and no one had heard of it.

During the next year, we wrote to the McDonoughs and both OPP officers but did not receive replies.

Going on vacation the next year, we stopped at the McDonough residence and learned that the accident victim was still in hospital but was expected to be released in a few weeks. They were surprised to learn our part in the rescue and did not appear to have heard of the “Alpines” or the quilt. We went on our way but, to this day, we wonder whether our quilt was appropriated by the OPP officer in Temagami (who had resigned a few months previously), or did it return to North Bay in the provision truck? — A.E. Alpine, a frequent contributor to the column, resides in Boyertown, Pa.