Failblock: decline and rebirth on Ste. Catherine

 
The southern half of the downtown block just east of the old Forum has been rebuilt, as seen in this photo taken in April by Vanatox of the skyscraper discussion group. The new buildings might look drab, but it's a good turn for the area, which had long lain in ruin as one of the city's most tragic enigmas of failed downtown retail.
   The southern half of the block surrounded by Closse, Chomedey, Ste. Catherine and de Maisonneuve was subject to chronic degradation, dilapidation and decline which started even before the Canadiens abandoned the neighbourhood in 1996 to play their games a few blocks east.

The old block in its last days.

      The new condos were originally slated to be built about a decade ago by developer Stephen Bronfman as an ambitious model of eco-green construction, complete with storefront retail rented exclusively to American chains that sell environmental products. But the anchor tenants failed to sign on, financing fell through and what has been built appears to be less-environmentally-driven.

    Bronfman had gobbled up the property in the early 90s under a variety of assumed identities, which is the only way to go because if one of the vendors gets wind that you are assembling a big piece of land, vendors will raise their price just to hold you hostage. One of them actually did just that, going backing out of his original deal, much to the frustration of the Bronfman team.
   I spent a lot of time on the block in my formative years, as my father lived there (#5) and owned the parking lot (#1) where I worked as a teen. Here's is a roundup of what I know, the numbers correspond to the image above.

1-The old Parc Forum Park was a 140-space lot which earned a lot of cash profit during hockey games. My father purchased it in the late 50s after making his big Nuns' Island deal, immediately demolishing the Navy League building. In my teens I worked there after school from 3-6 p.m. weekdays and did my homework there in the little booth, as I oversaw the quiet afternoon period. I was held up twice by robbers, not really the greatest experience.
    I met several Montreal Canadiens' players and staff there including Claude Mouton, (I once guarded the Stanley Cup that was stuffed into the trunk of his champagne-coloured Cadillac Seville), Jean Beliveau and Bob Gainey.

   The building next door was called My Father's Moustache, or later just The Moustache and hosted blue collar rock bands and other schlocky lowbrow fare. The owner Norm Silver was pals with my dad and I'd be ordered to assist the frail old man navigate the icy concrete to the club whenever he'd park there.
   Later on, Donald K. Donald bought the Moustache and rebuilt it but during construction it was revealed that the builders had come about an inch too far onto my father's property. DKD offered to compensate my dad for the lost inch but my father forced them to rebuild.
   My dad would watch over the parking lot from the balcony of his home at 1430 Chomedey and would sometimes yell at people through an electric bullhorn. He took great pride in his ability to yell in a ferocious manner. If someone was urinating on the property he'd scare them off and participate in other such drunken late-night conflict-oriented shenanigans.

The Texan restaurant did brisk
business at this corner location

   When my dad died in 1994, his first son from another marriage, Colin Gravenor Jr. inherited the parking lot property, by order of a will that was legally accepted in the eyes of the law, and he eventually made a lot of money selling it to Stephen Bronfman.
2-The Texan restaurant was a longtime mainstay at the corner, run by a Greek named George, who didn't talk much. The walls were lined with cheap colour photo snaps of famous people who had dined there, which I'd be more curious to look at now then I was then. When we'd close the parking lot, we'd sometimes still have drivers' keys, so we'd leave a note on the car directing them to pick the keys up at the cash of the Texan, so they were good neighhbours. I don't recall ever actually eating there however.
3-East of the Texan sat a series of small shops, bars and restaurants. Next to the Texan was an old-style brasserie, where Doug Harvey would get hammered and then drive home. Sometimes I'd help him navigate his big car (they were all big back then) out of the narrow laneway. Bob Gainey brought a teammate, maybe Bill Nyrop, to that tavern to celebrate his first-ever NHL goal.
   Then towards the east there was a Harvey's which stuck it out for many years in the later period.
   Prior tothat there was a large, sometimes-bustling magazine store called International News where a kindly old Jewish guy worked the cash sharing stories of how his wife left him and so forth.

The Clay Oven building was one of
the first to get abandoned.

   Next was a long-abandoned building was, until the early 80s was the Clay Oven bar. It attracted a pretty nasty crowd, possibly descendants of the clientele from the old Molly McGuire's which stood across the street before my time. Once abandoned, the beautiful red-stone fell prey to big flocks of pigeons. My father got so fed up with the pigeons that he paid someone to put up barbed wire somewhere around the roof, even though he had no business on the property.
    Then to the east, there was a barber shop with sweet Polish girls to snip your locks, a laundrymat and a couple of other small shops, which were all fairly well maintained until quite late in the game when the block was largely boarded up and inebriated natives would sit outside begging in front of the plywood.

The long-abandoned Seville theatre
was long a symbol of Montreal's
decline.

4-The Seville Theatre is probably best remembered as as repertory movie theatre where young goofs gathered for midnight showings of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. When it closed the air pretty much went out of the block and it became a symbol of downtown decline. Its heritage classification prevented its much-needed demolition and redevelopment. The owners just sat it out and waited for it to fall beyond repair.
   There was a little greasy spoon at the corner, inside the Seville building, that closed probably in the late 70s called Le Gros Jo or something. It served the cheap breakfasts.

My father bought the beautiful
old house on the right in the 60s,
renting out rooms, eventually
just living there with his third wife.

5-Behind the Seville on Chomedey was an empty lot and a laneway which my father did his best to control, as it sat next to his house. He built a metal fence over the vacant lot to prevent people from cutting through and lurking near his house, at 1430 Chomedey, which is now the Chez Doris women's shelter. People would damage the fence by vaulting over it, so he spread thick grease on top, so any sucker trying to jump it would get slimed.

John Bell, dad and me spreading gravel

   I think there had been an apartment building on the empty lot which burnt down in the late 70s and prior to that structure, about 100 years ago, according to my father, there was a church there that once hosted a world-famous preacher who attracted a monster crowd.
   My father bragged that he had nicked some land from the city by illegally expanding his parking lot onto the laneway, but he said that the acquired rights made him the proper owner.