Green Door

Green Door was # 1 on the billboard charts in 1956. The lyrics describe a nondescript establishment with a green door behind which “a happy crowd” play piano, smoke and “laugh a lot” inside. The upstairs of the boathouse at Headacher was dubbed “The Green Door”. I remember happy crowds, laughing a lot however the Head sisters did not smoke.

My first recollection of the top floor of the old boathouse is watching my grandfather (Henry Head) sitting in a rocking chair looking out the front window. It seemed he spent hours and hours up there. The scenery forever changing with the coming and going of boats, tugs pulling log booms, trains and sometimes rowers from the Kenora Rowing Club. I can remember how soothing the sound of the water was lapping against the dock and sometimes gushing up in between the deck boards.

The wallboard that covered the walls was warped with time and dampness and green in colour, hence the nick name of the Green Door in 1956. One needed to be careful around the walls as the paint would rub off on your clothing. The linoleum floor was green squares with black lines. At the back of the boathouse on one side there was a sink with cold running water. At the other side was a trap door to the lower part of the boathouse. Climbing down through the trap door was a challenge. As a little kid it was a special event under the careful supervision and watchful eye of Maurice.

The top floor of the boathouse was also over flow sleeping quarters. I remember the old metal frame beds with very thin dusty smelly mattresses on open mess wire “springs”. Even way back then there was a double bed that made up into a couch which was very uncomfortable. I do not remember sleeping up there. Now, I wonder how anyone could sleep up there.

I seem to remember there was at least one other room which housed things like bear skins and the old white canvas tent. The bear skins were dirty and dusty. Who knows how long they had been around. It didn’t seem to stop us from playing with them. I remember the tent very well. Once or twice a season there was great excitement when Dad brought out the old tent for a sleep out in the back yard or just play time. Please notice in the picture of Elaine and I how the old tent is black with mold. I couldn’t stand the smell of the old thing so sleeping in it was not something I enjoyed. The poor old thing also leaked and in those days the remedy was to put your finger on the drip and draw the finger down to the edge of the tent and the water would follow. It seemed to work for a while.

As time went on I seem to remember playing up there. A great attraction was an old wind up gramophone. Now operating this was also a challenge. Great care needed to be taken when winding it up. If over wound, the handle would snap back at you. If you didn’t get your hand out of the way quick, zap you got hit. The handle would fly around backwards until it had unwound itself and then we would try again.

The top floor of the boathouse became the hang out for us as pre-teens and teenagers. We would sit up there for hours and hours watching boats, log boom tugs, trains and sometimes rowers from the Kenora Rowing Club.

As young teens we hung out up there with neighbourhood kids and the “young men” who worked at Coney Lodge as boat boys and grass cutters.

Later, we often hung out the front window waving at the locals whizzing by in their boats and more often than not, they would stop by to chat and join us “behind the green door”.