The downpour that began the night before continued into the early morning of August 25, 1928, as the SS Laurentic, carrying the Canadian women’s athletic team, part of the men’s rowing team, and the advance guard of the men’s track-and-field athletes from the Amsterdam Olympics, sailed into the port of Quebec City. Noises from the ship docking roused the women and, by six o’clock, they were out of bed, dressed, and on deck for their first view of home. Hopeful of sunshine, they discovered instead a cold and rainy day. This cast a pall over everyone, but within an hour the skies cleared. The promise of fine weather and the cheers from the stevedores unloading the Laurentic’s cargo lifted their spirits. And when the official delegation from the Toronto and the Ontario governments arrived on board, offering congratulations and promising a reception in the Queen City second to none, the girls felt much better.
They had been gone since the middle of July and were homesick. Still, it had been an unforgettable adventure. Traveling on an ocean liner; competing at an Olympic Games; visiting Brussels, London, and Paris; and riding in an airplane after the Olympics, from London to Paris and back, had given them a lifetime of memories. They were returning with souvenirs: wooden shoes from Holland, lace from Belgium, and clothes from England. They had descended on the stores “with the enthusiasm of an art collector,” one reporter said. As proof of their shopping ardor, the women were bringing back thirty-five pieces of luggage. They had left Canada with twenty-five. But they were tired of touring, shopping, and competing: They longed to be home.
The stopover in Quebec City was brief, and the ship was soon steaming upriver on the final leg of its journey. It was an opportunity for the girls to finish packing, pose for pictures, and look at the sights along the St. Lawrence. When the Laurentic arrived in Montreal at ten o’clock that evening, they were relieved their travels were almost over. As the brilliantly lit vessel made its way around the bend into the city’s harbor, those on deck were startled by the sight of hundreds of people crowding the wharf and harbor sheds. The papers had announced the team’s arrival time and many had come to see the fun. While the boat docked, the large and noisy throng burst forth, shouting greetings and congratulations to the returning Olympians.
The reception was so unexpected and the numbers so daunting that Ethel Catherwood drew back from the boat’s rail in alarm. But, pushed from behind by her teammates, she was soon smiling and waving in response. The girls, dressed in their Olympic uniforms, were easily spotted, illuminated by the lights from the harbor sheds. Many Torontonians had made the trip to Montreal and, as they recognized a member of the team, they called out to them by name. Mayor Camillien Houde was on the dock to extend an official welcome. As the Olympic party came ashore, each member was introduced to the mayor, whose lively personality and banter appealed to the athletes.
Celebrities they might be, but they weren’t exempt from passing through customs. The only one to suffer from the regulations was Myrtle Cook: An officer demanded she pay duty on a large and furry toy dog she had purchased on the boat. Once they were processed, the women found themselves surrounded by the crowd and questioned by newspapermen. Myrtle denied that she was going to be married, and Ethel Catherwood refuted stories about a career in motion pictures. Ethel Smith said she was giving up athletics after her marriage in the fall. Bobbie was asked about the controversial finish in the women’s race. “If I had won that 100 meters race I’d have got a synagogue,” she joked. “I won’t even get a pew now.” Jean said she was returning to Penetang High School to finish her education, and Jane told newsmen she was entering Toronto’s Margaret Eaton School of Physical Education in September to become a physical education teacher.
The celebration on the docks continued for over two hours. The women posed for photographers, answered questions, and acknowledged the crowd’s good wishes. Ever since Amsterdam, there had been one question on everyone’s mind: “Don’t you think the folks at home will be glad we won?” The answer was found on the smiling faces and acclamation from everyone who welcomed them. If additional proof was needed of Canada’s pride, it was found in numerous articles that appeared throughout the country. One in the Toronto Evening Telegram entitled, “CANADIAN GIRLS WONDERFUL WIN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS,” was typical. “The feat of these girls is nothing short of marvellous,” the writer said. “They won glory, fame, and honor for their native home and land and for themselves.”
“HOME TO TORONTO is the slogan now,” Alex Gibb announced, on the morning of Monday, August 27. The tributes in Montreal were gratifying, but thoughts turned to Toronto and the welcome celebrations there. The women knew they would have to make a speech and each member of the team spent time writing her own. “I knew mine backwards first,” Jane said. As they traveled westward by train, they discovered all along the route — at Brockville, Gananoque Junction, Napanee, Belleville, Cobourg, Port Hope, and Oshawa — crowds were waiting. At each stop, people surged forward, surrounded the cars, and shook the hands of anybody connected with the team. They knew them all — Ethel Catherwood, the girls’ relay team, and Jean Thompson.
The Canadian Olympians arrived at Union Station about seven o’clock, and there were 200,000 people waiting to greet them. As the women exited the train, carrying stuffed bears, dolls, and bunnies from overseas, they were met by cheers, handshakes, and hats thrown into the air. Parents fought through the crowd to embrace their offspring, and one woman was said to have kissed a member of the girls’ team a hundred times. Nobody kissed Ethel Catherwood, although many would have liked to. When they reached the station’s main rotunda, the band of the Queen’s Own Rifles struck up “See the Conquering Hero Comes,” followed by “The Maple Leaf Forever.” The group filed out to Front Street to the strains of “Colonel Bogey.” Here the real welcome began. The multitude cheered and hollered; the girls kissed their friends or relatives; the boys shouted a casual “hello-there” to cover their deeper emotions of being back home.
Members of the women’s Olympic team wait for the parade to start: (left to right) Marie Parkes, Dorothy Prior, Jean Thompson, and Jane Bell. Olympic rower Jack Guest (in dark suit) is sitting in front of Parkes.
In another car, (left to right) Ethel Catherwood, Bobbie Rosenfeld, Ethel Smith, Alex Gibb, and Myrtle Cook (not shown) await the procession.
The procession, a mile in length, was led by the carriage of the National Ladies’ Club, drawn by a team of nine spirited gray horses. The guests of honor rode in three open cars, sitting high on top of the seats. There was no point along the four mile route that didn’t have its cheering throngs and honking autos. On Bay Street, confetti rained down on the athletes. At University Avenue, buglers from the armories added to the continuous cacophony of noise and, at the Cowan Avenue fire station, the firemen rang the bells to greet them as they passed. Cheers and shouts of “Hurrah!” “Hello, Fanny,” “Hello, Jean,” “Good girl, Ethel!” were directed at members of the women’s team. Jane was surprised to see her younger brother wearing long white flannel pants. When she left, he was a little boy in shorts, but now he was grown up.
For Bobbie, the parade was her kind of event. It seemed that she knew every second person along the route, every policeman, and all the firemen, too. Living up to her reputation, she had a different answer for every cheer. When the parade reached the Patterson Chocolate Company, her place of work on Queen Street, she saw fellow employees whooping from the windows and waving large white-and-green streamers in her honor. For one of the few times in her life, Bobbie was speechless. Somebody from Patterson’s ran out and presented the women with boxes of chocolates, which they proceeded to throw at the boys running alongside their cars, the pressmen behind, and the mounted police. Ginger Catherwood, unhappy with the snail’s pace of the procession, complained she never expected to ride so slowly again, unless it was at her own funeral. Bobbie replied that as far as she was concerned, they could go on traveling slowly forever.
A special float dedicated to Bobbie Rosenfeld passes by in the parade. On it are some of Bobbie’s teammates from the Pats Softball team and the Lakesides basketball team.
The parade reached Sunnyside at nine o’clock. A crowd of 100,000 had been waiting since six o’clock to greet them. When the athletes appeared, the multitude quickly forgot its impatience and pushed forward to obtain a better view. The crush was so intense that the guests of honor struggled to make it to the platform, and a few of the less rugged on the welcoming committee never made it at all. As they lined up on the stage, they were greeted by Mayor McBride and Ontario Premier G. Howard Ferguson. Below, the bands accompanied the crowd as it sang, “The Gang’s All Here,” “She’s A Jolly Good Fellow,” and “She’s A Daisy Just Now.” To show their appreciation, the women athletes, led by Bobbie, gave the yell of the Olympic team: “Canada, Canada, C-A-N-A-D-A, Canada.”
In front of Toronto’s Union Station, Joe Wright Jr. waves to the crowd waiting to welcome him home. Standing beside him is Mayor Sam McBride.
Mayor McBride began the program. They were assembled tonight to add one more glorious chapter to Toronto’s enviable sporting history, he said. He introduced Joe Wright Jr. and presented him with a set of silver flatware on behalf of the city. The girls’ Olympic relay team was next and each member was given a silver tea service. When Bobbie’s name was called, the crowd went wild.
The mayor began, “Miss Fanny Rosenfeld is Canada’s champion all-round lady athlete.”
“We know it,” responded the crowd.
And when McBride referred to Bobbie’s second-place finish in the 100 meter race, the multitude shouted, “First!”, expressing their opinion about the questionable finish.
Bobbie replied that it was a thrill to make the team and travel to Amsterdam, but it was a bigger thrill returning home. “We wanted to see our flag go to the top,” she told the crowd. “I leave it to you whether it did or whether it did not.”
For Jane, who knew her speech so well, the moment was an embarrassing one. “I opened my mouth and there was nothing,” she said. “The more I tried, the harder it was, and the silence got more and more uncomfortable.” Finally, the mayor came to her rescue.
“Well, this speaks for itself,” he remarked. “It’s obvious that Jane is so glad to be home that she’s speechless.” Mrs. Bell couldn’t believe it. Her daughter, who was never at a loss for words, was tongue-tied.
The presentation to Ethel Catherwood was a popular one and the crowd’s applause proved it. Toronto had adopted the Saskatoon Lily as its own and was happy to welcome its hero home. “I was only too glad to be able to win because it was for Canada,” she said.
Jean Thompson, the Penetanguishene Pansy, accepted a wristwatch as a token of the city’s esteem, and responded, “I didn’t do what I wanted to do. I’m very sorry, but I’m glad to get a few points for Canada.” Her apology was unnecessary because she had tried her best and everybody knew it. As the crowd swelled around the platform party afterwards, attempting to shake their hands, the pride felt was not for any one member, but for the team as a whole.
The celebration moved on to Withrow Park, where another reception, arranged by the West Danforth Business Men’s Association, awaited them. Mounted police and motorcycle officers sped them on their way, stopping traffic at intersections and holding up streetcars so they could pass without interruption. At the park, 10,000 east enders were waiting to salute the Olympic athletes. The reception was scheduled to begin at nine o’clock, but the guests of honor didn’t arrive until almost eleven. Yet the long delay seemed to improve the crowd’s spirits and, when the Olympians finally appeared, the throng lost all reserve and broke into a vocal barrage.
Again there were presentations — a mantel clock for Joe Wright Jr. and sequined purses and bouquets of flowers for the women — and once more, there were speeches of appreciation. For Ethel Smith, however, there remained one final party. Arriving home about midnight, she found her neighbors waiting. The street was alight with lanterns and bright with flags to welcome their famous daughter.
For Ethel and the others, it had been a busy and exhausting day, and they were weary. It was a homecoming like no other — an outpouring of emotion so great and so generous that the girls were overwhelmed. Alex Gibb spoke for them all when she said, “The people of Toronto will never know how much it meant to come home and be welcomed in so wholehearted a manner.” That night when they collapsed into bed, their heads spinning from the excitement and activity of the past forty-eight hours, they felt they could sleep forever.
Jean Thompson returned to Penetang on the evening of August 29, and was given the greatest reception in the small town’s history. The scene at the railway station was lit by torches: old brooms soaked in coal oil, carried by older boys. Among the crowd, a number held bouquets of pansies in honor of their Penetang Pansy. As the train came in, the crowd let loose with cheer after cheer. These became a roar when Jean appeared in her Olympic uniform. After a short speech of welcome, the mayor escorted her to a waiting car. A spontaneous parade formed, consisting of the guest of honor, the town band, the torchbearers, and the throng who was there to see her. It made its way up Main Street to the cenotaph, where a gaily decorated fire engine served as an improvised platform.
In response to the address of welcome, Jean expressed her gratitude for the love of her friends. Her world fame, she said, was due to the encouragement given her by those in her hometown. The mayor gave a short speech and presented her with an octagonal silver cup. Following a few comments from others, selections from the band, and the national anthem, the reception came to an end. She was surrounded by friends, who shook her hand and embraced her, some wiping away tears of joy.
Six days after the big Toronto reception, Ethel Catherwood and her sister, Ginger, boarded the Canadian National Railways train at Union Station for Saskatoon. It had been eight months since they had left, and they were looking forward to coming home for an extended visit. Although she now lived in Toronto, Ethel’s heart was still in Saskatoon. At Montreal, en route to the Olympics, a reporter called her a “Toronto product,” and she took exception to it. She was from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, she told him, and was proud of it. The Hub City was equally proud of its native daughter, for she had accomplished great things. “Our Ethel” was Saskatoon’s first world titleholder and its citizens were eager to greet their conquering hero.
In Saskatoon, people began arriving at the railway station sometime before noon and, by lunch hour, a crowd of 2,000 jammed every available space on the platform. Excitement like this hadn’t been seen since Armistice Day in 1918. Students, both past and present, from Ethel’s old school, Bedford Road Collegiate, were there in full force, shouting the school cry and adding to the noise and confusion. The crowd was so large that Mrs. Catherwood needed persuading to leave the car and join her husband and children on the platform. When the Continental Limited pulled into the station at 12:20 P.M., a mad, scrambling, shouting mob was waiting. As the Saskatoon Lily appeared on the train car’s steps in her Olympic uniform, there was a shout of, “There she is,” and the throng rushed towards her, eager to shake her hand.
Ethel Catherwood’s old high school, Bedford Road Collegiate, was proud of its Olympic high-jump champion and held a special ceremony to honor its famous graduate. Ethel, wearing her Olympic uniform, is seated at the left, in front of the Union Jack flag.
Saskatoon proclaimed “Ethel Catherwood Day” on September 26. In her honor, the afternoon was declared a public holiday. A parade, consisting of a motorcade, bands, and students from the city’s three high schools, began from city hall and ended at City Park, where a formal reception took place. Ethel was presented with a $3,000 trust fund, which she would use to study piano at the Toronto Conservatory of Music. In his address, the mayor said that Ethel was an example of what could be done by determination and persistent training. She showed there were no shortcuts to success. He acknowledged the assistance she had received along the way, especially that of Joe Griffiths, whose coaching played a large part in her success at Amsterdam. In a brief reply, Ethel offered her thanks for the reception and trust fund, adding that she was happy to bring the championship to Saskatoon.
In Toronto, delight in Bobbie Rosenfeld’s Olympic accomplishments ran high among the city’s Jewish community. A committee was formed and subscriptions collected to purchase an automobile to honor the most versatile female athlete in Canada. At an afternoon tea held in the King Edward Hotel and attended by over a hundred friends, Bobbie was presented with a maroon-colored Durant sports coupe, a 10,000-mile service contract, and a supply of gasoline. The gift was the highlight of the afternoon, but the Junior Council of Jewish Women also showed their appreciation with a jeweled perfume tray and a trinket box.
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In the months following the Olympics, Bobbie Rosenfeld quickly resumed her busy sports career, playing basketball, hockey, and training for the Millrose Games.
A party of a different kind awaited Dr. A.S. Lamb at the annual meeting of the AAU of C at Port Arthur, Ontario, in December. In a stormy and rancorous session, the Olympic dirty laundry was aired once more as each side defended its actions and attacked the other. One delegate remarked, “We get ‘roasted’ Lamb downstairs and fried lamb chops upstairs.” When the smoke from the “Battle of Port Arthur” cleared, Dr. Lamb had resigned as president of the AAU of C and secretary of the COC. It would be four years before he attended another meeting of the Athletic Union.
For Gibb, Mulqueen, and Robinson, the defeat of Dr. Lamb was a satisfying end to the Olympic unpleasantness. Not only was it a vindication of their actions at Amsterdam, but it affirmed their stand that female athletes belonged at the Olympic Games. The fight, however, was far from over. It continued into the next decade, forcing spokeswomen such as Alex Gibb, Phyllis Griffiths, Myrtle Cook, and Bobbie Rosenfeld time and again to defend the right of women to participate in sport and to compete at the Olympics.
By the end of the year, the members of the girls’ team resumed their interrupted lives. Jean Thompson was attending Penetang High School. Teddy Oke announced she was moving to Toronto in January to join his Parkdale Ladies’ Athletic Club and to complete a business course. She would then work in his brokerage firm. Another Parkdale member, Jane Bell, was enrolled at the Margaret Eaton School of Physical Education. In October, Ethel Smith married, and the members of the women’s team, except Ethel Catherwood, who was in Saskatoon, attended. Bobbie Rosenfeld, now a sales representative at Patterson Chocolates, returned to her life of hockey and basketball. Myrtle Cook was coaching the Canadian Ladies’ track athletes once more and training hard in her spare time, hopeful of an opportunity to compete against Elizabeth Robinson. Ethel Catherwood was at the Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto, studying piano, and completing her business course at Shaw’s.
It was difficult for the six to pick up where they left off because of their Olympic achievements. “In 1928, the Canadian women’s team blasted the scene,” Munroe Bourne, a member of the Canadian Olympic swim squad, said years later. “They were really the dominant team [at the Olympics].” As the first world champions in women’s athletics, they were international celebrities, and Canada was proud of what they had accomplished. For most of the 1920s, Canadians had exalted American sports heroes, but the Amsterdam Olympics changed that. In Percy Williams and the “Matchless Six,” the country had heroes of its own. “They are a credit to Canada on and off the field,” Lou Marsh said, “an advertisement the country could not buy if the government spent its entire budget.”
As the only individual Olympic champion on the Canadian women’s team, Ethel Catherwood gained special renown.
The publicity and honors bestowed on Canada’s female Olympians didn’t go unnoticed by the nation’s girl athletes. Alex Gibb remarked that since returning home, she found Toronto school yards crowded with young girls anxious to be future Bobbie Rosenfelds and Ethel Catherwoods. The boost given women’s athletics, however, was felt far beyond the Queen City. Throughout the country, the example of the first women’s team inspired others and encouraged their dreams that, someday, they too might represent Canada at an Olympic Games. Four years later, when it was time to select the women’s squad for another Olympiad, the nine athletes chosen came from all parts of the country.
