NOT A GOOD PLACE TO HIDE WHISKEY by Ralph Bice December 5, 1973

This little episode happened many years ago. In fact it was many years ago, nearly sixty, that it was told to me, or rather to a gathering where I happened to be. The men who took part are long gone, though the son of one of them is a business man in Powassan.

It happened at what was then called Rainy Lake, in Algonquin Park. There was another place called by that name, so the little railway station was changed to McCraney, and the post office to Brennan.

Rainy Lake was shortened to Rain Lake. The road to that section of the Park ends at Rain Lake. There is a nice campsite there, and many people camp there, others use it as a debarking place for trips further into the woods. When I was there first the area where the campsite is now was then occupied by buildings that were the headquarters for the Booth Lumber Company, as they had a tote road going all the way to the Nipissing River. There was a large saw mill that stood right across from where the trailer office sits. On the high point was a large three storey boarding house and two smaller ones. There were a number of other houses as when the mill was in operation quite a number of people lived in the little hamlet. There was a school which doubled for a church on Sundays, and they had their own Orange Lodge. But it is a story I want to tell, not get into history.

Most everything travelled by train in those days. The Railway had a number of trains, and of course there were section men to keep the line in repair. As in most cases, the section house that was provided for these men was a double house, built close to the track. There were two families living in the house, and I believe there were also three other men as the section gangs then were comprised of five men.

During the summer, I imagine after pay day, the women had planned on a short trip, perhaps to their own homes, and of necessity they went on the train. The men decided that since they were to be on their own for a week they should have a bit of excitement. They decided to have Saturday night in Kearney (‘car-knee’) where there were two hotels, and in those days there was a bar in every hotel.

There were no motor cars for the sectionmen as we know them today. They had a hand car, and it was pumped by hand, which must have been a lot of work, as anyone who has seen those grades when there was tracks where we now have a road.

There was a train from Ottawa that arrived at that station a few minutes after six. The men had hurried, as work days then were ten hours and six days each week. But they managed to get to the station in time, and loaded their hand car on the train, which arrived in Kearney a few minutes before seven.

I was not told what they did during the evening, but when everything was quiet they put their car on the rails, and started the long pump back to Rainy Lake. As I said, there are heavy grades, especially just after leaving Kearney, but there were some down grades, and after they passed Round Lake it was downhill. Since they were to be on their own for a week they had taken a case of whiskey, which in those days was twenty-four bottles. After they got home, tired but pleased with their evening, they decided they needed a bracer, and amongst them they killed a bottle. Before they went to bed they were sober enough to realize that the men from the saw mill, or some of them would be around in the morning looking for a drink, and they decided they should hide the remaining twenty-three bottles. Which they did.

Early in the morning one of the men awakened, and was badly in need of something. I believe they say “some hair of the dog that bit you”. Only thing, all he could find was the empty case. After a minute he vaguely remembered that they had hidden the bottles, so he started to look. He searched everywhere, but no whiskey. In a while he called another, and finally all five were looking for their misplaced week’s supply of stimulant. But no luck, and they were getting a bit desperate. They could not think anyone would be around so early in the morning but no one could remember where they had hidden their whiskey.

In their excitement and worry no one had noticed that day was beginning to break. Then one of them happened to look out the window, and there sitting on a pile of ties, in full view of anyone who should pass was their twenty-three bottles of whiskey.

I do not know what happened after that, but I think their drinks were soon in a safe place.

So many things to remember about McCraney of sixty years ago. The well kept station, the many flowers, the lovely garden. All gone but the rhubarb patch. The garden and flower beds have trees and brush growing there, and only some coal cinders mark where the station stood. The saw mill was moved to Kearney, its third location, and then to Searchmount, above the Soo on the A.C.R. The dances we had in the old Booth buildings the winter we took out cordwood the last winter of the First World War. Very few of that crowd left, but we did have some good times there, and pleasant memories of Rainy Lake.

Photos: Rain Lake – A.P.; Pump car – Lofgren; McCraney ghost town by Ontario Abandoned Places.

For more interesting stories of life in the early years of Algonquin Park check out my book, “The Algonquin Centennial Series” written for The Park’s centennial celebration.