Ideas - For 40 years trains brought classrooms to children
Episode Date: September 2, 2026They were known as School Cars and Schools on Wheels. Trains that chugged along the railroads and brought schooling to children living in the isolated communities of Northern Ontario. It was a novel s...ix-month experiment that lasted from 1926 to 1967. IDEAS explores the early project in remote education, homeschooling, and nation-building. *This episode originally aired on Jan. 9, 2023.
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Welcome to IDES. I'm Nala Ayyed.
It began with two chugging steam locomotives,
school car number one and school car number two.
They were also known as school trains and schools on wheels.
If a coach could be fitted out as a classroom on wheels
instead of the children going to the school,
the school would come to the children.
It was an unprecedented collaboration
between Ontario's then Ministry of Education
and the Railways, Canadian National and Canadian Pacific,
that lasted four decades from 1926 to 1967.
And if it could do one community,
well, it could travel on 10, 20, 50 or 100 miles
and serve other communities.
At the height of the program,
Seven school cars traveled up and down the tracks of Northern Ontario
to the isolated children of railway workers, trappers, loggers, and hunters.
We didn't have no fridge or television or nothing like that.
Groceries, they'd come in every two weeks with the train one that came in.
The steam trains delivered food, medicine,
and occasional news from the outside world to Northern Ontario.
Now they'd be bringing teachers, lessons, and books.
Some students just had to walk out of the house and cross the tracks to get to the school car.
Others had to use skis, snow shoes, and dog sleds.
We had a dog team of about five sleigh dogs, and we had an eight-foot toboggan,
and we'd just get on and they'd go and they knew the trail.
And then on the lakes, we'd put branches.
up and mark the trail across the lake because very often the wind would blow your trail over
with snow.
The school car was the brainchild of school inspector J.B. McDougal.
One day he happened to see a switching train, pushed some railway service cars into a spur.
The idea suddenly struck him.
That's the voice of the late William Wright, who served as a school car teacher for 39 years, recorded for the CBC in 1978.
This railway that sort of shacklesies families to the rails can be used as a means of bringing education to the children.
The first two trains departed on a September night in 1926 from the grounds of the Canadian National Exhibition.
in Toronto.
One train carried teacher Walter McNally
and headed for North Bay.
The other, carried Fred Sloan
and his young family to Sudbury
and then further north to Folliette and Capriol.
This documentary by Alisa Siegel
explores an early experiment
in remote education,
homeschooling and nation building.
The school trains
me here,
Finally, I've been affed, literally, by the school trains.
The school train.
We have finally arrived.
I was struck utterly by the school trains.
My name is Justin Socier.
I'm auteur of romance, and I'm the author of Romance,
Attrins Perdu.
My name is Justin Socier.
I'm an novelist, and I'm the author of,
and miles ago before I sleep.
a novel in which the school brains take a big part.
Collision frontal with Degrenager,
a fascination that makes me continue
in a state of alert for what he is concerned.
A head-on collision with major damage,
a fascination that kept me in a state of alertness
around anything to do with them.
My name is Iona Peterson.
I live in Sudbury, Ontario.
I'm 93 years old.
I was born in rural Ontario.
It's R-U-E-L, which is a little town between Folliet and Capriol.
And this is where the school car was running at the time that I was born.
There was a post office and a little store and a railway station.
it was a stop for lumber workers working in the bush.
My mother, she worked at home while my father worked in the lumber company in the north
between foliot and rural.
And he would be gone for three weeks at a time or longer in the camps,
then come out for a week to us and then go back in the logging camps again.
There was nothing there. No school, it's just people that worked on the railroad.
So you'd go to school on the school car. At that time, it was the only option that we had to learn.
My name is Marcel Constantine. I'm 74 years old, and I was on the school car. In 1956, 1957, I was living in rural.
Ontario with my family, my mother, my father, and six siblings beside myself.
I belong to the Cheching Nation on Manitouan Island.
My father was from Quebec, Quebec, and my mother was indigenous and came from Go Gamma, Ontario.
My father worked for Canadian National Railroad.
We're in the bush.
There's trees, there's railroad tracks,
and there's a short railroad track
just for the school car.
The school car came to Palomar
just to teach my brother and myself
and the later years my sister.
Fred Sloeman was the teacher, and he was the same teacher that taught my father in Groundhog many years prior.
My name is Raymond Bromley. I attended the school car in 1952 in Palomar, Ontario, which was approximately 12 miles east of Folliette, Ontario.
approximately 136 miles west of Capriol, which is 20 miles from Sudbury.
We lived in the bush in Palomar.
Well, there was nothing but bush.
My mother and father and my brother and one trapper and two section men that worked for my father on the railroad.
That was it.
I mean, it was nothing but trees, you know, all around.
And we would cut our wood in the summer and we would prepare it for winter.
That was the extent of it.
We had a rabbit line in the wintertime and we'd snare rabbits.
And we had a little lake not far from us where we used to shovel it off and make a rink.
And then we would play hockey with the two of us.
My mom was from Folliet and my father was from Groundhog, which was another four miles east of Palomar.
They were both born in Canada and they ended up there because my father was the section foreman on the railroad for the Cheyenne.
He had to maintain a smooth surface for the trains to go on.
Dad worked on the railroad for 42.
years. My name is Bob Bell, and my father was one of the teachers on the school car
that ran between Chaplow and Carche. I lived for five years on school car number one.
As a youngster, in my seventh birthday, I became a student on this school car where we moved
from Carche to Chaplow in a series of stops, seven to be exact. At the end of the seven weeks,
we would pick up groceries in Chaplow,
and a freight train would haul us back to the original spot,
where my father would teach for one week.
Each week, my father would tell the way freight to pick us up
and take us to another stop.
Some of these stops had as many as 12 students.
Others would only have three to five students.
A minimum was to have three students
to facilitate the stop for that particular place.
The school car would be on the siding.
They have two double tracks,
so they can put the school car on a siding track.
We'd cross the road,
and then we had to cross three or four double tracks,
double railroad tracks,
and then down the path to the school car.
It was hard getting up there.
You kind of crawled up.
Then you go. You're late way.
Fred Sloan was the teacher.
Fred Sloman.
The first school car teacher on the Canadian National Line
speaking to his students in school car number one in 1931.
Where's Jimmy?
It was recorded by the Fox Movie Tone Corporation
for release at the time in theaters across Canada and the United States.
Over the hill?
And his wife, Celia, the thousand miles of Bush Country was our skis.
We had lots of playgrounds, trees and shade and rocks and streams.
They were such nice people and they had little girls and we would get to play with them.
The teacher had his quarters on the train, three tiny rooms with the modern comforts of the times.
A kitchen, a bathroom, and a central space.
that, depending on the hour, served as a sitting room, dining room, or bedroom.
We just show back who she.
We walked in up those stairs, and Mr. Sloan had his desk at the front.
They had desks on both sides, like you would in a regular coach.
It was a made-over-passenger train, so it was about 10 or 12 feet wide,
and I believe about 62 feet long.
There was a classroom, which would be about a third of the size of the passenger car.
My parents had a living room, bedroom, and then at the very end, there was a small kitchen.
There were a total of 12 desks.
My sister and myself had rollaway beds, where they were kept at the back of the classroom.
And after everyone had gone, in the evening, we would bring these rollaway beds and set them down beside the student's desks.
and the beds would be made up and that's where we slept.
We had to carry water.
The water sometimes had to be carried a great distance
and it would be kept in large pails
which we used for drinking and for cooking
and the bathing where we had to heat it on a wood stove
or a cold stove.
On a Saturday we would have a bath.
Every morning the day would start
with the singing of God Save the King.
That's another thing you taught us.
how to sing
God save the king or queen.
And then there would be the Lord's prayer
and then we would sit down
and get started with our regular lessons.
The first day I went to school,
my parents told me to listen to my brother.
So my brother says,
ring the bell.
So I got up and I rang the bell.
The teacher escorted me by my ear
right back to my desk
and told me to sit there.
And then he gave me a note
to bring to my parents.
But I stuck the note underneath rocks.
I didn't give it to them.
So around Christmas time,
the teacher was out there with us
making an archway
over the walkway,
and he come across this piece of paper,
and he said to me,
it looks like you forgot to give this
to your father, Raymond.
So I had no choice but give it to him then.
It wasn't a laugh at the time.
The creation of the school cars
was prompted by this general notion that schools needed to reach the population of Ontario or Canada,
no matter where these students were.
My name is Theodore Christu.
I am a professor of history of education at Queen's University in the Faculty of Education.
The school cars were part of a broader effort that included, for instance, correspondence schooling,
reaching students in the north who either due to physical or other reasons could not,
attend some of the other school buildings.
And this was a period that I've referred to as a progressivist period.
And many of our scholars have called it progressivist
because it represented a kind of an unfettering
from the Victorian model of schooling that had pre-existed,
a kind of a model of education that was considered to be passive
because it focused on sitting and passively learning materials
only to be regurgitated or to be remembered for examinations.
that a criticism of Victorian schools was also that they lacked any kind of connection to the world as it is today.
In other words, that they were preparing students for a world that had already passed.
And the third element of progressivism was focusing on the individual,
as opposed to this curriculum or these texts that had been passed on.
And the themes of progressive education are very alive today.
We see them in curriculum documents focusing on inquiry.
We see them in the reports of,
government officials and in school journals.
So in the rhetoric of education, we've been fascinated with this idea of progress.
And in Coast World War I, Ontario, the idea of expanding what schools could do and the reach of schools,
I think crystallized in this idea of the school trains, which were almost like a very image itself
of technology, of progress, of industry, of connecting this country from coast to coast.
And so outfitting trains as classrooms was seen as this really novel experiment.
There wasn't any roads then days.
Lil Denji in 1978.
And they had to paddle down if they wanted to go to the school car, like in open water.
Four miles to the railroad.
And then you either go through the bush and take a porridge like,
or you can go right to the railroad track and then walk down the railroad track.
to cook at us. And then in the winter, of course, they either toboggan or snowshoed or skied down.
We'd have to tie up our dog team to the trees outside the school car there and leave them there for the day.
Betty Etier.
We often heard and saw wolves on the lake when we were going, and we'd try to get back before it got dark.
Well, I can tell you one thing, you didn't have no slack time.
There was more hands-on because it was just
at one point there was just my brother and I
so Fred Sloan he would go and spend
15, 20 minutes with one and then 15, 20 minutes
with the other one and then recess time
and lunch was 12 to 1
and not one minute after either. It was 1 o'clock.
You'll be there.
On the school car, most of it was
arithmetic, geography, spelling
we'd have spelling bees.
Spelling was very important.
Arithmetic.
I can remember doing science.
I do remember geography a lot.
And we did learn a lot about Canadian history
more than any other history.
He would teach us stuff that we should know
about living in the wild.
He'd teach us about the environment.
A lot about nature and how things grow and animals, different kind of animals that we had in our in rural trees.
And that was all our life, of course.
Mr. Schloman taught us both life in the bush, because we're in the bush.
He used to bring us outside and we'd spend our time outside doing things.
to be around a fire, how to make fire.
He teaches us about the snow.
It teaches us about the weather.
Anything to do with Northern Ontario, about the railroad.
He used to tell stories that night.
It was fantastic.
All different type of stories about different people
along the line and, you know, the trapping experiences.
It really got our attention.
attention. I saw a moistern up the wall, I saw his tail and that was all. Who knows their funny
hesitation? Well, give us yours, please. The boys did on the railroad track. The train is coming
fast. It trained off the railroad tracks. That's the motorist. Good. Yours. He was good at building
confidence. He would give you something to talk about, and you didn't have the answer. Well,
you had to find the answer, well, you had to do some reading, and he would give you some books,
and you had to come out with an essay saying what you've learned and what you've picked up out of that book.
The thing about the school car, you were, it was parked quite close to the main line of the C.N.
And you'd be sitting there, and it used to get him a little bit mad.
He'd be nicely into a lecture or telling you something, and a big freight train would come by.
when you couldn't hear a thing.
And they used to steam engines then,
and they'd be blowing it.
It's a chugging sound, eh?
Like, I can still hear it in my mind.
And it's a steam coming out of the engine.
So he would stop and stopped each until the train went by.
He would carry on from there.
God, you know, this was over 70 years ago.
To me, it was normal. I knew nothing else.
That was the way the life was then.
It went out on a train.
Every week we moved to the train would come and pull us through another stop.
And my father would teach and I would go to school on the school car.
I had both my parents and it was a reasonably happy life.
I had no sports.
I used to ski a great deal and, but that was about it.
I missed out because there was no radio, no, nothing like that.
We were too far away for radio.
We did not get a paper even.
I knew very little about the outside world.
The National Geographic was a godsend
because we were able to see pictures of the outside world then.
A freight train would pull the car over a distance.
Leave it on a siding in the middle of the forest.
Leave it on a siding in the middle of the forest.
the forest, from which emerged a group of children, who, for a few days, would learn reading,
writing, and arithmetic.
Until another train came to take it to where other children awaited it.
And they would stay one week.
And then he'd give us homework for the next three weeks.
All right, now the freight angel will be coming in a few minutes to take the car up to mile 92.
I'll be back in one month, or maybe two or three days more than one month, but I want your homework done, please.
And do it a little bit neater, will you?
Charles?
A little bit better than before.
The local train would pick the school car up and take them on to the next little town on the railroad.
And they would stay a week there and then move on to the next one.
When we passed to the next mileage point, everybody stood with tears.
in their eyes and we were sad too to leave them.
But we always knew we were coming back again.
Mr. Sloman would give us homework if he was gone for three weeks,
so we'd do homework for three weeks.
My mother would help us.
It was almost like homeschooling because you had your work given to you before they left
and when you come back that work should have been done,
but you had to do that at home.
he had his ways of getting everybody to produce.
My brother and I, we always had our work done.
It was always done.
There was never a question about whether it was left out,
homework was finished, and then some.
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From 1926 to 1967, the school cars, passenger trains converted into schools on wheels,
chugged along the railway tracks of northern Ontario,
where children living in the province's isolated bush couldn't get to school,
so school was brought to the children.
The school train was much more than a school.
The school train was much more than a school.
Lecture, recriture, calcules, and institutions
democratic Canadian.
It was where they offered evening classes for adults,
reading, writing, and on Canadian
democratic institutions for immigrants.
A doctor came twice a year.
We had given a bingo.
They had bingo nights, radio evenings, particularly during the war.
No one had light. When the sun went down, the little shacks, just one caracine lamp on a table, and that was all.
And we had lots of light when we came. And so everybody loved to see the school car with its lights coming.
Everybody was happy, and that was very exciting for everybody. That was a big,
We waited for that train to roll into town.
We did.
It was a big excitement.
My father had to make a place on the track, on the siding, for the school car to park.
And it was a piece of track that was just specifically for the school car.
The school car would be welcomed by the kids running up alongside
and ready to greet us as we came into that particular stop.
Oh, they came racing up as soon as they saw the school car come in.
They'd come raking over.
Sometimes he'd arrive on a Sunday.
We used to run down, go see Mr. Sloan.
Then he'd tell us Monday morning, school starts.
I knew when the school car,
would arrive, I knew we were going to learn something that week, which I loved. We always loved going to
the school car. We loved it. All I remember is Mr. Sloeman being a good teacher, his wife.
Mr. Sloan was the teacher. Mrs. Sloan was the keeper of the car. It was a gala week, the week that we
were at each little siding. She was always cooking. You could smell.
on the car.
I've made millions of cookies, I think, to serve and coffee.
It was like Christmas.
Christmas, every three to me, without the gifts.
But the gift was to have these lovely people to be with us.
They had a pet skunk that they used to carry with them on the train.
For a pet.
The skunk was there when my father was going to
school and you were still there when I was going at school.
When I think of the school car, I think happiness right away.
I think, oh, the school car is coming.
And when I walked in there, I felt secure, I felt special.
and I felt that this was a very special occasion, this one week,
of having these lovely people with these kids.
It was like a visitor more than a teaching.
At the end of the day, we had to clean up, clean up the boards,
make sure the books were all packed in our desks
and made sure the place was left tidy before we left the school.
because the evening time they would have bingo games
and they would have silent movies and little gatherings for the people in the town.
We've had perhaps 60 people in the school car in one evening for a picture show
run on our old car battery.
We had no electricity.
We didn't know there were so many people in the bush.
They seemed to come from nowhere.
I think the big thing was the excitement of having something different
and having somebody else come into town and something to do.
The children would flood a river for skating,
and we'd take the gramophone out to the river,
and once or twice they had a dance out on the river, on the ice,
with wolves howling in the background.
They would explain to us things that happened in the big city
that we never knew anything about
and I didn't really come to a city
until I was 12 years old actually
so everything was all so new to me
we lived a very
I guess you'd call sheltered life
but happy life
so this is also a period
of generally mass immigration to Canada
3 million had come into the country between 1894 and the start of the 20th century,
largely moving to remote regions.
Education as a portfolio was so important that the premier of Ontario was up until 1934 also the Minister of Education.
So this is some of the importance of education for building,
I think this idea of an educational state or building the idea of what Ontario could be,
was reaching out to these new Ontarians
and Ontarians who were not living primarily in that golden horseshoe
from Hamilton to Oshawa that had been developed largely with the automobile industry.
This is also a period where it's just noting automobiles,
where in 1916, we know that half of the vehicles on the road were horse and buggy,
right alongside automobile.
So the marks of technology and the marks of progress,
were all over society. And yet schools seem to remain remarkably unchanged from the traditional
Victorian model that had been inherited, a kind of a learning that was focused on textbooks,
a kind of learning that was focused on the past and a kind of learning that was focused on
bringing together Canadians with the shared knowledge and shared history. So reaching students in the
North was absolutely imperative, I believe, to premiers of this province and also I believe the
government, not only to be able to stand firmly and say that education was able to reach
more Ontarians than it had in the past, but also because schools served a fundamental
socializing purpose, helping to realize some of the aims of Anglo-conformity.
90% of the learners enrolled in the classes were children who were new to Canada,
but of course their parents and their families.
We even have a reference to older family members
who might have been uncles or aunts or grandparents,
engaging in some of the learning that came
when the trains would come into a community
and the teacher would then have the opportunity
to engage with that community.
The section men who couldn't read or write,
they came nights and they, in one week,
could write their name on the board,
and they'd grip the pen until the blood would be running from their hands.
gripped the pen so hard. Everybody wanted to do something, so there was no effort to teach
anybody. So the learner, the student engaged in the learning, I believe, was seen to be,
at some extent, a sort of a light for the rest of their family and others who could play an
educational role in supporting others learning. So absolutely, the justification in many
cases for the schools was that not only were the students engaged in the learning served,
but also their families and other members of the community.
This remains an important part of how we do education today
is by bringing children together, we're bringing together families.
Decorum, order, discipline, and fervor.
Every morning, he said Union Jack at the rear of the wagon.
Decorum, order, discipline, and fervor.
Every morning, he would raise the Union Jack at the back of the car
to greet the children of the woods, washed, hair brushed and braided, and in their best clothes.
They were also dressed up in honor of the day of school.
They were seven, eight, two, sometimes three or four.
Certain were at the beginning of the alphabet.
Dotho could declines the names of all the first ministers
They numbered seven, eight, twelve, sometimes only three or four.
Some of them were just learning the alphabet.
Others could list all the prime ministers since confederation.
Some had just arrived from Ukraine or Yugoslavia.
Others had never seen anything but the forest where they were born.
It was a class multinevo, multi-ethnic, and a maitre socios of each one of them.
It was a mixed grade, multi-ethnic class, with a teacher mindful of each one of them.
We had in that little town many Polish people and Italians, Italian immigrants and immigrants working on the train tracks, a section gang they called them.
And a lot of them couldn't speak English, and they had them.
their wives with them and they couldn't speak English.
Well, this Fred Sloan would have classes at night sometimes to teach them English.
So they learned to speak fairly well, and it made for a better understanding of everybody in the town.
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and confessed a gigantic Russian...
We know that many of the students
who were engaged in the Railway School Car project
were recent immigrants from Europe.
And that the focus of instruction was primarily on literacy, but not exclusively.
That included elements of what we might call today citizenship education.
So the idea of schooling as civic formation is essential, and particularly for immigrant populations at a time between the two wars.
So Bolshevism are the ideas of communism and socialism, where to some extent as frightening in Canada as they were in the United States, particularly around popular rhetoric.
So long as communism threatens the very existence of democracy,
the United States must remain strong enough
to support those countries of Europe,
which are threatened with communist control.
Prime Minister Mackenzie King disclosing a sensational spy plot
hurls an international bombshell.
That plant did work on the atomic bomb at Deep River, Ontario.
And in the story, that radio experimental station figures.
Wartime precautions for secrecy were taken.
We have a wonderful quote from the Minister of Education, George S. Henry,
that Bolshevik propaganda finds no place or acceptance wherever the school car operates.
There's no doubt that the next generation will fall naturally into their place as loyal citizens.
We also see that these schools are referred to as wholesome Canadianizing influences
or means of establishing history, values,
and enforcing a kind of civic life that conforms.
this notion of British angle conformity within the Canadian context.
And so combating Bolshebism, infusing the spirit of democratic learning or democratic
ways of governance, but particularly also the sense of what it means to be a Canadian within
the sense of the Commonwealth was embedded in the curriculum of schools, whether they were
railway school cars or they were schools that we could find in Toronto.
So the school car was, according to Premier Howard Ferguson, adding its quota to the loyal and intelligent citizenship of Ontario.
We know of one student, for instance, named Joseph Rufo, who was referred to as, quote, a little Italian, who came to this country in the spring after only 12 weeks of learning, he learned English, and thus was able to be kind of woven into the fabric of what it meant to be a Canadian.
So yes, schools helped to educate, children who were not in urban centers, who may have had physical or other obstacles that prohibited them from attending school, that we would bring the schools to them.
But they also served an assimilationist end, which we know is derived from a sense of angle conformity within a sense of being British in Canada and being part of the British Commonwealth.
And schools, to some extent, continue to be criticized for the same reason.
We had indigenous people living in our town, and they mostly all spoke English.
They did speak their language also, and they did have some of their ways that they lived also that was a little different.
but we all got along well together and enjoyed each other and played together.
Many of these young people during the last few years of the operation of the school car were from Indian families.
Former school car teacher Philip Fraser on CBC Radio in 1978.
By agreement, the Indian sold his treaty rights for a certain cash payment.
This payment in a lump sum enabled the family to buy certain things,
perhaps an outward motor and boat or things like that.
And then once they had spent their money,
all their privileges enjoyed under the treaty were gone.
They could not send their children to Indian school
and almost a generation grew up in certain areas
without being able to go to school.
When we found this out, we made application with the department to make other stops.
We have a record of two children who camped out waiting for the school to come.
The place to call right out where indigenous children had come out of the woods in order to go to school
and had set up a tent, including the fall and winter.
They put up a tent and they lived there so they could come to school that week.
And the Minister of Education, who was also the Premier of Ontario, Howard Ferguson, notes this two boys living far from the railway line, journeyed 40 miles to the car, set up an old tent in midwinter, fatched it with balsam boughs, and lived in it while the car was near.
Then after the week was over, they went back to their homes, which would be farther away in the bush, and impossible to get to the tracks every day.
Well, I promised to show you the goldfish. Who was it, had never seen the goldfish?
We'll take a look. Here's the mystery.
You have to go past because the engine's coming.
I'll leave it here.
Now if the train doesn't come, you can see it again.
Mr. Sloan, to me, was like a father.
He was somebody very special.
I think he was very honest.
He was very fair, and he was firm.
Very kind, very soft-spoken,
and he seemed to know so much,
and no matter what you asked him,
he always answered you with him.
such a wonderful explanation.
And Mr. Swelman treated you like you were somebody.
Everybody was important to him.
Mr. Sloman was a good teacher, and we loved them dearly.
I still do.
They taught us about life.
They taught us how to live.
Mr. Sloman has given me the idea that it's
you want to do something in this world, you can.
And he's made me a more understanding person of the language barrier and how to treat people
so that they feel they're part of Canada.
He treated immigrants just as he would treat us.
Always a smile, always happy to see you.
and never, I don't ever remember giving a crossword.
We're always just so very happy to see him and that.
And I feel so grateful to him and his family for doing this.
It must have been often inconvenient teaching
and bringing up a family on a train and moving from place to place.
and him and her to do it with such grace and happiness
that I think he's left a real spot
in the life of history of people,
him and all the others that have done the same thing as he has.
You know, I've been living a long time.
I mean, that's history gone by,
and it's possible it could be now
because with the way people are teaching from home
and teaching with all the stuff they have to teach,
it just kind of boggles your mind.
It's going back, going back to old times.
It's almost like, to me, it's like homeschooling now.
Well, it was almost like homeschooling.
For three weeks, you were homeschooled,
and now a lot of people are doing homeschooling.
They now call it remote learning.
But it's the same, almost the same thing.
You have to govern yourself to do your work and get it done.
The school cars are indicative of kind of a universal trend that as we are,
as we are finding ways to educate,
as we're finding ways to improve schooling in diverse and multiple avenues,
that the solutions are almost always unique and local,
that the railway school cars are a uniquely Ontario solution.
to the challenges of educating a broader population.
This is a story that is embedded in the very life and history of this province and the people who lived in it.
I think I was very lucky.
I learned a lot of things.
How to get along with other people, what to appreciate in life,
little things that we take for granted that we should be so thankful for.
Without the school car being there, we would not have had any schooling.
We did move from rural to Tainega because that way we could go to school every day.
And we had a one-room school in Tyniga.
So we finished our schooling there.
Why did the program come to an end?
1960s Ontario was no longer 1920s Ontario and the population was not the same population. It was not
located in the same places. More and more we were seeing that the population of Ontario was moving
into urban centers and towns and cities where educational opportunities and schools were
already established. And so the urbanization of Ontario continued and abated. And so the school
population that would have been served by these school cars had dwindled to next to nothing.
The end could be seen approaching because the railway was making changes.
Conditions were changing. Roads were being built, in some cases, beginning as logging roads,
but being continually improved. And in that way, it was possible to bust children out to bigger schools,
particularly when it came necessary to go to high school.
These railway sections that had been six miles long had become 20 miles long,
where they had used a pump-type motor car.
Now they were using gasoline-powered cars,
and telegophers were being replaced by the central traffic control system.
So those families were being moved out.
By 1967, once novel, The School on Wheels,
these remarkable technological innovations
seem like relics from the past.
The railway school cars were no longer considered
an aspect of modernity.
Modernity had moved on to using new technologies
such as the telephone and the television to reach students.
The trains were now seen as costly,
I think inefficient, and most certainly outdated.
They were running short on teachers.
Fred stayed three years after his retirement date.
Just because we didn't want to leave the children,
There was no one anxious to go and stay in the isolated north.
Maybe the most important legacy of the school cars,
it's how it transformed families and individuals' lives.
And I think we are bound by these stories.
These stories are what make us.
Not only the kind of curriculum of schools,
but the kinds of stories that we share when we're engaged in learning.
The vision of reaching all people and offering them an opportunity
to become literate, to become fluent with numbers,
to be able to apply their learning
and to be able to build community as they do it.
These are things that we all yearn for,
and we know the power of education to change lives,
broadening opportunities,
allowing students and families to see more than what they might have otherwise seen.
A truly democratic education can do is to reach all people,
no matter where they are.
An ordinary-looking freight train pulls up against an ordinary-looking backdrop and follows the ordinary procedure of uncoupling one car.
An ordinary-looking schoolchildren from grade 1 to second year high, head for an unusual railway car which acts as an attenurate school in the north.
Symbolic of Canada itself. Education in Ontario is literally rolling the frontier ever northward.
Educational research often proceeds in two ways. One is,
is experimenting, figuring out what works.
Will this float?
Will it work or not?
Let's see.
They didn't know whether these railway school cars would work or not.
And so I think today we ought to continue to experiment with new modes and means of learning,
as we have sometimes done in the virtual world and throughout the pandemic,
but continuously to experiment and never to presume that we know the best way in which we ought to school
or we ought to educate all people.
To me, when you say the school car,
I have a good feeling inside
that I was able to experience the school car
and that I was part of that.
I was part of those people's lives.
I'm happy for that.
The nostalgia of train.
The nostalgia of siphlemen of these vets.
The nostalgia of the train, the nostalgia of the whistle of those powerful beasts.
I'm very happy to have been part of it.
I feel very honored that I was around at that time.
It's nice thinking of all those things.
It brings you back.
It's been such a long time ago that it was a good start for my life.
I have good memories.
I have good memories.
When I see a picture of it,
I just feel home,
just a homey feeling.
Like, oh yeah,
that's home.
That's my life.
That's where I started.
Goodbye.
Skis and don't waste too much time.
Goodbye, girls.
Nine o'clock sharp.
Don't be late.
You were listening to a documentary
about Canada's school trains
produced by Alisa Siegel.
Special thanks to Bonnie Sitter.
Thanks also to Palmyro Campania,
Zuel de Chatele,
Fred Tiollis, and Dale Wilson,
to Benjamin Singleton
and the University of South Carolina's
Moving Image Research Collection,
to the late Carl Schusler
and to Kate Zeman and Bob Remper,
of CBC Library and Archives.
Lisa Ayuso is the web producer of ideas.
Technical production, Danielle Duval.
The senior producer is Nicola Luxchich.
The executive producer of ideas is Greg Kelly,
and I'm Nala Ayyad.
For more CBC podcasts, go to cBC.ca.ca slash podcasts.
