Klondike Hotel by Glenn Bridenbaker

Warning: nudity, drug, and alcohol use

The small railway hotel and tavern near the Rainbow Bridge of Niagara Falls, Ontario at Bridge St. and Erie St. was named seven times during its 125-year history.

For decades, the hotel was known for basic rooms, meals, stabling horses, and postal delivery.

Since its inception, the building had been called the Suspension Bridge (1853), the Waverly (1880s-90s), the Arlington (mid-1890s), the New Arlington (mid-1930s) the Erie Hotel and the Avon House (1950s), and, finally, the hotel was named the Klondike Hotel in 1960.

On the rough side of town, it became well known that, for regular, law-abiding folk, just going there was risky.

Over the years, there were constant law enforcement interventions about alcohol, drug, health, solicitation, strip club, and vice regulations.

There were continuous police citations for a myriad of recidivist by-law and civil infractions and criminal code violations.

Lawlessness prevailed, and the characters around the scene acted with impunity;

The Klondike had become a well-known bane to the civilized community.

One day, while I was researching the interesting landowner lineage of the plot at Sam’s Montrose Hotel/Motel at Montrose and Lyons Creek roads in Niagara Falls (my research paper found at Niagara Falls Museum in the Thompson/Thomson files collection),

I was in a public telephone booth calling the hotel for deed information, and I became a part of a peculiar telephone call misconnection.

I was confusedly speaking with a confused woman who was also telephoning Sam’s Montrose. I asked her name. She said her name was Cinnamon. Dare I say that I don’t know how she spelled her name.

Curious, I asked her where she was calling from. She replied, “the Klondike.” She added that she was working there. Intrigued, I felt a song coming on. I asked if I could meet her at the Klondike to talk person-to-person for ten to fifteen minutes, so I could take some notes. Honestly, that was my aim.

I went down to the Klondike to chat with this muse. As I walked through the door, facing me — three feet in front of me, on a raised runway stage — there was a full-frontal nude exotic dancer called Bambi. She was gyrating to Stevie Wonder’s major hit “Sir Duke.” As I stood before her, she opened her arms wide and shimmied. I heard the blasting lyrics, “You can feel it all over, you can feel it all over, you can feel it all over.” Believe me, I could feel it all over. The small lobby’s barroom was overcrowded, and marijuana and drunkenness were apparent. Bedlam reigned everywhere.

I briefly spoke with Cinnamon; she was so completely unimpressive that I took no notes. There was no song arising from this occasion. I quickly left, sensing the high tension in the thick, smoky air.

Everything about the Klondike festered until the hotel met its final fate.

Thank goodness no one was injured, but the building sustained a dynamite explosion in 1978.

One wonders why, over time, the police investigator

Never caught the perpetrator.

Rumors were that police facilitated the deed. The person(s) involved — never found.

Finally, in 1980, the officially condemned, unsafe building was demolished to the ground.

The land where The Klondike once stood is presently part of the Niagara Falls Ontario Bus Terminal site.

Today, word on the street is that, in the shadow of the Klondike area’s history, it’s not a neighborhood to walk through in the dim light of night.

Source: The author, 2026

Author’s note:

The poem “Klondike Hotel,” a Niagara Falls atypical rhyming piece is one of five ̶ what I call ‘rambling poems’ ̶ comprising the unpublished work Rambling Reminiscences.

Glenn Bridenbaker:
Happily married to beautiful and wise muse wife Cheryl since 1967. Two brilliant sons, a gorgeous daughter. Two glorious granddaughters, an excellent grandson. Ontario residences: Toronto, Manitoulin Island, Wikwemikong Unceded Indigenous Reserve, Niagara Falls, and Ridgeway. Bibliophile. Musician. Nonprofessional writer. Amateur oil and watercolor painting. Novice Oriental Brush Painting. Art collector. Musical instruments and recorded music collector. Numismatist and philatelist. Dog and cat owner. Home vegetable, flower, and landscape gardener. Birdwatcher. Astronomy and space aficionado. Meaningful values include: know thyself, family, health, common sense, truth, logic, integrity, sharing, creativity, curiosity, quality, arts appreciation, and humor. Two years graduate student of Marshall McLuhan at the Centre for Culture and Technology.

Niagara History and Poetry Podcast

I’ve talked about it for a while, but I’ve finally started up a podcast called Niagara History and Poetry, in which I discuss the history of Niagara Falls through the poetry that has been written about it.

The first episode is an introduction to the podcast, the second is about bears at the falls, and the third is about Captain Matthew Webb, who attempted to swim the rapids & whirlpool.

Click here for the video version

Click here for the audio version or go to your favourite podcast distributor and search for “Niagara Falls History & Poetry”

Please give it a listen, and feel free to comment, subscribe. like and share

Lines to Harriet by Traveller

On the hill beside the river
Stands a building dear to me,
By its threshold one bright morning
There I first saw Harriet C.

Then that house was new and cheerful,
Now its walls are sad to see.
Years have passed and it’s decaying—
Where is charming Harriet C.?

When we watched the mighty cataract
She would closer cling to me,
And our hearts nigh ceased their throbbing—
Then I loved sweet Harriet C.

Time passed on and we were parted,
It softened much our childish glee
And I’ve never, never since then
Seen my lovely Harriet C.

But I’m standing by the schoolhouse
Where her form I first did see,
And my heart is sadly asking—
Where is gentle Harriet C.?

Source: Zavitz, Sherman. Niagara Falls: Historical Notes. St. Catharines, Looking Back Press, 2008. First published in the Niagara Falls Review as part of the Historical Notes series.

The historical note about the school is reproduced below with the permission of Sherman Zavitz.

The Schoolhouse on Clifton Hill: Who Was Harriet C?

A school on Clifton Hill? While such a building would certainly seem out of place there now, in fact a one-room schoolhouse once stood on this thoroughfare, long before it became the now famous Street of Fun.

A roughcast structure, it was built around 1835 and was located on the south side of the street where the Comfort Inn Fallsway is now located. In 1848, after all the property on the south side of the hill was purchased by local entrepreneur Samuel Zimmerman, the building was moved to the other side of the street.

The school served the area along the Niagara River from Dufferin Islands (as they are now called) to the Whirlpool. This included the little community of Clifton, which at that time was centered around the Clifton Hill, Victoria Avenue area. Clifton was established in 1832 by Capt. Ogden Creighton, a British half-pay officer.

The following year, a hotel was built at the foot of Clifton Hill where Oakes Garden Theatre presently stands. As happened with the hill, the hotel took its name from the community in which it was located. The Clifton House became Niagara’s most renowned 19^thcentury hotel.

Some of the teachers at this early school included William Pointer, Miss Tobias and a Mr. Williams. Around 1849, the teacher was Mr. McMullen, who also had a side job. The owner of a hansom carriage, every time an excursion party arrived at the nearby Falls, he would rush out of the school and become a tour guide, leaving his niece to take over his teaching duties.

The last teacher at this school was Marsena Biggar, who was there from 1851 to 1853. During the fall of 1851, Marsena might very well have taken his pupils down the road to the Clifton House to hear the famous singer Jenny Lind. Known as the Swedish Nightingale, she was a guest at the hotel for a number of weeks that autumn and would occasionally present a concert from its balcony.

The little schoolhouse on Clifton Hill closed at the end of 1853. The school section had been divided into two and new stone schoolhouses had been built. One of these was just to the north along Victoria Avenue, near Bender Hill. Open for only three years, it was replaced in 1857 by Simcoe Street School. The other was on Buchanan Avenue (now Fallsview Boulevard) where the Hilton Hotel now stands. It was used until the opening of Falls View School in 1910.

In February of 1857, an interesting letter appeared in a Buffalo newspaper. It was from an anonymous gentleman (he signed his name “Traveller”) in Lockport, New York, who told how several years earlier he had paid a visit to the old Clifton Hill schoolhouse. He had been a pupil there in its early years and wandering around the closed building naturally brought back many memories, including those of an infatuation he had had with another pupil he identifies only as Harriet C.

Moved by the nostalgic experience and lamenting his lost love, he wrote a poem, which was published along with the letter.

Entitled “Lines to Harriet,” [above] are a few of the verses.

Just who was Harriet C.? While we can’t be absolutely certain, it was likely Harriet Crysler, who was born here in 1831. The Crysler family home stood where the Victoria Avenue Library is now. Harriet died in 1903.

Laura Secord by Charles Edwin Jakeway

On the sacred scroll of glory
             Let us blazon forth the story
Of a brave Canadian woman, with the fervid pen of fame,
            So that all the world may read it,
            So that every heart may heed it,
And rehearse it through the ages to the honor of her name.

            In the far-off days of battle,
            When the muskets’ rapid rattle
Far re-echoed through the forest, Laura Secord sped along
            Deep into the woodland mazy,
            Over pathways wild and hazy,
With a firm and fearless footstep and a courage staunch and strong.

            She had heard the host preparing,
            And at once with dauntless daring
Hurried off to give the warning of the fast-advancing foe ;
            And she flitted like a shadow
            Far away o’er fen and meadow,
Where the wolf was in the wildwood, and the lynx was lying low.

            From within the wild recesses
            Of the tangled wildernesses
Sounds mysterious pursued her ‘long the winding forest way,
            And she heard the gutt’ral growling
            Of the bears, that, near her prowling,
Crushed their course through coverts gloomy with their cubs in noisy play.

            Far and near the hideous whooping
            Of the painted Indians, trooping
For the foray, pealed upon her with a weird, unearthly sound,
            While great snakes went gliding past her
            As she sped on fast and faster,
And disaster on disaster seemed to threaten all around.

            Thus for twenty miles she travelled
            Over pathways rough and ravelled,
Braving danger for her country like the fabled ones of yore.
            Till she reached her destination,
            And forewarned the threatened station
Of the wave that was advancing to engulf it deep in gore.

            Just in time the welcome warning
            Came unto the men, that, scorning
To retire before the foemen, rallied ready for the fray,
            And they gave such gallant greeting,
            That the foe was soon retreating
Back in wild dismay and terror on that glorious battle-day.

            Few returned to tell the story
            Of the conflict sharp and gory
That was won with brilliant glory by that brave Canadian band,
            For the host of prisoners captured
            Far outnumbered the enraptured
Little group of gallant soldiers fighting for their native land.

            Braver acts are not recorded
            In historic treasures hoarded,
Than the march of Laura Secord through the forest long ago,
            And no nobler deed of daring
            Than the cool and crafty snaring
By the band at Beaver Dam of all that well-appointed foe.

            But we know if war should ever
            Rage again o’er field or river,
And the hordes of the invader should appear within our land,
            Far and wide the trumpets pealing
            Would awake the same old feeling,
And again would deeds of daring sparkle out on every hand.

Source: Charles Edwin Jakeway. The Lion and the Lilies: A Tale of the Conquest and Other Poems. Toronto: William Briggs, 1897

This poem is discussed in Episode 2 of the Niagara Falls History and Poetry podcast

Read about Laura Secord

The death notice of Charles Edwin Jakeway published in the Barrie Examiner March 8, 1906 from Find a Grave

Read about the Battle of Beaverdams

The Wonderful Leaps of Sam Patch by Anonymous

[n.b. This is the Niagara section only]

sam — *Sam Patch Jumping at Niagara Falls*
From *The Wonderful Leaps of Sam Patch*, c1870

Next, to Niagara thousands flock,
To see him jump from Table Rock,
Into these waters, thunder-hurled,
The seventh wonder of the world.
Folks swarmed on bank and giddy ledge,
On dangerous precipice’s edge,
Nay, really, it has been said,
They stood one on the other’s head,
To get a view when gallant Sam,
Came cool (and modest as a clam),
Pausing upon the trembling verge
To list to what might prove his dirge!

The sun was red, the cliffs aglow,
And foaming white the gulf below,
As Sammy turned his fearless eye
From crowded earth to brilliant sky,
And boldly took the fearful leap
Down, down, into the seething deep!

Each breath was held, each eye was strained—
Huzzah! at last the bank he’s gained!
A shake, a gasp, his breath to catch—
“Now! who will laugh at Samuel Patch?”

‘T was there Sam made his greatest dive—
Feet—full one hundred and sixty-five!

Source: The Wonderful Leaps of Sam Patch. Rochester, NY: Len Rosenberg, Rochester Collection. Reproduction of a book originally published by Len Rosenberg in the 1870s.

Platform built at the base of Goat Island for Sam Patch’s Jump in 1829.
From *Official Guide Niagara Falls, River. Electric, Historic, Geologic, Hydraulic* by Peter A. Porter with illustrations by Charles D Arnold published 1901. Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library

Sam Patch did not jump from Table Rock as mentioned in the poem and as shown in the illustration. in 1829 he constructed a 120 foot high platform at the base of Goat Island and jumped from there, as depicted in the illustration.

Tag: history

Klondike Hotel by Glenn Bridenbaker

Like this:

Niagara History and Poetry Podcast

Like this:

Lines to Harriet by Traveller

Like this:

Laura Secord by Charles Edwin Jakeway

Like this:

The Wonderful Leaps of Sam Patch by Anonymous

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: