Regal Road Public School
by Matt Blackett
When I come home in the morning from my girlfriend’s place at King and Dufferin, I almost always take the 29 Dufferin bus north, boarding at the start of the line just outside the Dufferin Gates. At it creeps its way north, the bus collects a rainbow of people, a petri dish of Toronto. When I go through the intersection of Dufferin and Davenport I never fail to remind myself that I must come back to that corner on foot. I had noticed once, looking back over my shoulder as we chugged up the hill towards St. Clair, that the schoolyard sitting atop the hill near the intersection had one of the best views of the downtown core.
I’m a sucker for views of the big buildings and skyline, having lived in a high-rise at Bathurst and St. Clair and worked on the 27th floor looking south at College and Yonge.
The northeast corner of Dufferin and Davenport is occupied by Regal Road Public School. A pathway leads up to the playground, but it has been fenced off in a very casual manner -- I stepped over the wooden railing and strolled up. With every couple of steps the facades of the old houses and shops facing onto Davenport gave way to the glowing skyscrapers. When I reached the top, I again had to climb over a small wooden fence. I found a spot under a tree -- from where I was sitting I could see as far north and east as Yonge and Bloor and as south/west as Etobicoke and the mouth of the Humber. The lip of land I was sitting on was the former shoreline of Lake Iroquois, Lake Ontario’s predacessor, and it was very dramitic and distinct as I looked east, then west.
I could see the wind turbine (whom I’ve named Windalene) spinning furiously. It always makes me feel good to see that graceful thing in motion. It’s the token gift from the City to the enviro-heads, I suppose. I was able to see the Molson sign near the foot of Bathurst that faces onto the Gardiner Expressway. The KFC bucket, just a little east of the Dufferin Gates, was a small red dot but since I had been up close to it earlier in the day I was able to easily identify it. I have a friend who lives 300 feet away from the bucket in this great place in Liberty Village. He said to me today that every time he has a party someone always suggests going over to the thing, seeing if they can climb it, and maybe smash the lights that illuminate the monstrosity. But there’s a fence around the base, and you have to have a ladder to reach the spot where you’d start the horrifying climb to the top. “Maybe you should just try and burn it down,” I offered.
Some kids walking along Davenport saw me sitting up on the hill and shouted up to me. “Whatcha doing up there, buddy?” a guy yelled. “Getting high,” I replied. He scremed “Whew hoooo!” and with both hands, gave me a Hang-10 or the Devil’s sign. I was discovered, so I slipped out the back of the schoolyard -- back to my house and piles of work.
Matt Blackett is creative director at Spacing,
a Toronto-based magazine examining the urban landscape.
