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The legendary Commons Hotel— Morin Heights’ party central for 75 years

by Don Stewart

Literally thousands of people living around the world remember the Commons Hotel. In fact,

when out-of-towners talk about Morin Heights, the Commons is usually the first name that comes

up. “Remember the Commons? Remember the fun we had there? Remember the great rock and

roll?” Of all the good bars in Morin Heights over the years (Bellevue, Carriage House,

Rockcliffe, Chuckies, Alpino, Swiss Inn, etc.) the Commons was undoubtedly the best known

spot for music, drinking, and dancing. The third floor functioned as a boarding house for many

decades too, offering cheap rooms to sleep during the ski train days of the 1930s, and a few seedy

rooms to crash if you were too drunk to drive home 40 years later. There was a huge parking lot

out back, a second downstairs bar for many decades, and even a restaurant for awhile.

From the 1960s until

the 90s, the

Commons was the

spot to be for loud,

hard driving rock

and roll. Famous

musicians recording

at Le Studio

sometimes came to

jam with local bands

in the wee hours.

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One of the biggest physical changes was a major renovation in 1983. The owners decided to

expand the capacity of the place after a concert by Iron Butterfly with a record 550 people in

attendance. They installed a new raised stage and cut a huge opening in the ceiling to permit the

show to be seen from the top floor balconies as well; the third floor was then opened to the public

with its own bar.

In the ‘Showbar’ phase of the Commons, performers included Blue Rodeo, Levon Helm, Jeff

Healey, Honeymoon Suite, Dutch Mason, the ZZ Top tribute band Très Hombres, Long John

Baldry, Rare Earth, Edgar Winter, Blushing Brides, James Cotton, Corey Hart, Minglewood, and

the Downchild Blues Band. Local favourites were Barb and the Barband-- the fabulous Harris

Sisters.

But the Commons was a swinging venue long before rock and roll. It was built around 1925 as

Hammond’s Dance Hall—immediately south of the old CN railway station on Station Road (now

chemin du Lac Echo) a short walk from the centre of the village. It continued as The Commons

Hotel for the next 75 years with many different owners over the years. Undoubtedly it was one of

the town’s most famous (or infamous) landmarks.

Part of the roof of the old building collapsed in March 2005 when the heavy snowload proved too

much. Luckily no one was on the premises at the time. While there were a few attempts to rebuild

and save the historic building, these efforts proved too costly; besides, country showbars no

longer had much future since police had started paying more attention to drinking and driving.

The building remained empty for the last few years of its life, and was finally torn down. At least

the Commons didn’t meet its fate by fire like so many other old hotels and boarding houses in the

region. While there was no public closing ceremony at the end, tears were shed and many people

waxed nostalgic about the good times they’d enjoyed there.

Nothing remains of the historic building now--just a tall concrete retaining wall to remind us of

great days gone by.

And many wonderful memories.

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Everyone has a story

Anyone who ever hung out at The Commons has a story or two to tell. Sleeping it off in one of

the upstairs rooms. A flirtatious glance that led to a moonlit walk out back. Midnight brawls with

flying bottles and chairs when one local clan took on the boys from Mille Isles. Masquerade

balls at Halloween. Live fiddle music and square dancing in the early days. Oyster parties.

Spotting a celebrity musician in town to record at Le Studio. Joints on the veranda. Hauling a

long toboggan up Mont Bellevue behind the Commons parking lot after a night of drinking and

dancing and flying down the hill, laughing riotously and drunkenly in the darkness with four or

five other merrymakers. Great music. Lots of dancing.

The Commons enjoyed its first bout of fame in the 1930s and 40s when trains brought skiers by

the hundreds to Morin Heights as well as other towns throughout the Laurentians. These tourists

usually stayed for the weekend at a small hotel or family-run boarding house, of which there were

over a dozen in Morin Heights. In the daytime they skied, either cross-country or downhill at one

of the many small family-run hills with rope tows in the region (including several in Morin

Heights). Not everyone came to the Laurentians just for skiing, however; social types enjoyed

the camaraderie of country hotels and après-ski venues. Morin Heights was one of these party

towns, with a lively scene at many local spots.

From 1921 to 1938, Morin Heights was officially a dry town, although some oldtimers who lived

through the era never realized there was Prohibition here. Booze was always plentiful and easily

available from local bootleggers and stills. A drink could usually be had from under the counter

at a boarding house or dancehall, or from the trunk of someone’s car in the parking lot. In 1938,

after a heated debate that pitted churches and the Women’s Institute against bar owners and

business people, the town finally held a plebiscite on the issue of alcohol. On November 7, 1938,

the vote was held, and the results were astonishingly close: 105 in favour of continued

Prohibition, 3 abstentions, and 110 who believed in booze. Appropriately, Hammond’s Dance

Hall/The Commons got the first liquor license in town.

In the early days the square dances (barn dances) were usually packed every Saturday night.

Rowena Blair remembers Willie Baldwin calling “Honour your partners and corners all” while

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Henry Baldwin played fiddle and Bella Seale or Peggy Gilbey played the piano. “The place was

rocking….Put another nickel in, in the nickelodeon, Jivey jitterbugging and then romantic

waltzing to the sounds of Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey. Great times! George

Wade and the Cornhuskers wearing western outfits. Al Griffin and his Harvesters. Bobby Seale

played guitar with both groups.” 1. In the same era, Robert John Ivall (pictured) sometimes

played fiddle with his sister Naomi on piano and Melvin Dey as caller.

Some local people met their future mate at the Commons--sometimes a city person here for the

weekend. Fernand Guenette (born 1921), for example, met his wife Geraldine while he was

playing fiddle at the Commons in the early 1940s; she was a Montrealer who stayed at

Watchorn’s Farm boarding house for weekends of skiing. Others people chose to move to Morin

Heights because of the fun they had at the Commons. Faye Rankin remembers in the 1940s

when gangs of young people would head to Boyd’s Restaurant for a hamburger after the

Commons closed at 4 am. Others remember being in the bar while still underage. Prettier girls

were often allowed in at just 14 or 15.

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Downstairs has its own history

While the main upstairs bar was better known, the

basement of the Commons has a history all its own. A

downstairs pub called “Chez Van,” featuring mostly Van

Morrison music, was operated by Kim and Bob Brewster

in the 70s. A bit later, Mark Sherry’s Cabaret du Nord

offered another venue for live music and a place to hang

out on Friday and Saturday nights. It evolved into

Buddy’s, a daytime and evening drinking hole named

after Buddy Bardog, a terrier who lived upstairs with

bartender (later journalist) Neil Zack. Neil wrote the

story of Buddy Bardog in a hilarious article in Perspective

newspaper in November 1994. Towards the end of the

millennium, downstairs was completely renovated as an upscale Irish pub called William’s Pub

by Richard Waugh.

In the 60s, the upstairs Commons was briefly run as a strip club--allegedly by the Mafia. During

this time the basement was rented by a local band as a practice room. Apparently the mobsters

sometimes held pool tournaments upstairs as well, betting money on local pool hustlers. There’s

a story that Vic Cotroni once sent his bodyguard downstairs while the band was practicing. He

delivered an order for the band to come upstairs: “The boss would like to hear a song.” The band

chose “To Love Somebody” by the BeeGees, and crossed their fingers that he would like it. 2.

The only tragedy associated with the Commons occurred on a muggy summer day in the early

1980s when Willie Marshall was high up on an aluminum ladder painting the wall facing the

street a few feet away from a Hydro line; electricity arced to the ladder, badly injuring Willie.

One of the young bar owners at the time, Wayne “Charlie” Hyde, heroically grabbed the ladder

with both hands to move it. Willie was saved, but “Charlie” was electrocuted at the age of 33.

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It’s strange to think of a bar as a benevolent community institution, but the Commons played that

role over the years too. It was always one of the main venues for village Carnivals, and hosted

charity schoolboy boxing matches. In its final decades there were dozens of community

fundraising events at the Commons, including spaghetti dinners, reunions, and murder mystery

dinner theatre evenings.

What a place! Raise your

glasses to The Commons!

May the memories last

forever! --------

1. Porcupine 4, page 44, 2001 2. Porcupine 5, page 65, 2002

Commons reunion August 1, 2015

Starts at 6 pm Ski Morin Heights

Many great bands—including Barb Harris from Barb and Barband

and Liz Harris from the Ste-Agathe Flyers

Profits to MHES and LES school breakfast programs