Autumn 2017
It Was 50 Years Ago Today

Ken Luckhurst first set foot at UTM at the height of the hippie era. Touring a transformed campus with a recent grad, he finds not everything has changed


Photo of Ishveer Malhi and Ken Luckhurst walking and conversing inside a UTM building.

On a recent tour of campus, U of T Mississauga grads Ishveer Malhi (left) and Ken Luckhurst engage in some comparative reminiscing: Instagram Era vs. Summer of Love. Photo: Ian Patterson.

When U of T Mississauga first opened, deer and rabbits easily outnumbered the beautiful woodland campus’s 155 students.

Ken Luckhurst was among the very first to register at Erindale College, as UTM was then known, in the late summer of 1967. When he and friend Rick Robb crossed the threshold of its one and only building, they found a school that was so new, its administration didn’t have registration forms to hand out. “The registrar had to write all of our information down on the back of a Rothmans cigarette carton,” he recalls with a laugh.

Today, with about 14,000 students, UTM has beefed up its operations considerably – and there is no shortage of forms. But as Ishveer Malhi (BCom 2016 UTM) tells it, the school still retains its small-town feel. With the ability to connect to almost anyone through social media, Malhi says she always felt part of an intimate community, even though the school is much bigger than it was in Luckhurst’s day. “In a strange way,” she says, “it was like we all knew each other.”

On a sultry day in late June, Luckhurst (BSc 1970 UTM) and Malhi take a stroll along UTM’s bucolic paths and engage in some comparative reminiscing: Summer of Love vs. the Instagram Era.

“Here’s a peaceful spot, where you can go to de-stress,” Malhi says, passing a well-lit enclave in the Innovation Complex, a hub for business education. A finance specialist who majored in economics and now works for KPMG, she muses on the paradox of UTM: a highly competitive school, but one located in the most serene of places.

Much has been made of the increasing pressure on modern students, but Luckhurst – who majored in math and now runs his own business development company – surmises that things were just as tense in his day. “I’m still having the nightmare that I haven’t prepared for the exam!” he exclaims as we pass the Hazel McCallion Academic Learning Centre, aglow with computer light.

Not that his shaggy-haired, bell-bottomed cohort spent all of their time working. “We horsed around, drank, chased women,” he says. “But we got one of the best educations you could have.”

Another constant: the sense of friendly competition with U of T’s other campuses, particularly UTSC (the other “other” campus). Both recall looking for a book at the library and being repeatedly told, “Sorry! It’s at St. George.”

Malhi suggests stepping inside the Communication, Culture and Technology Building, where she took first-year sociology. The auditorium is large enough to fit all of Luckhurst’s class, with room for their families too. In the past decade, UTM saw the opening of eight new academic buildings and is still expanding. Luckhurst’s original stomping ground, the North Building, was recently demolished and a massive six-storey complex is rising in its place.

The Erindale of 1967 offered two degrees – bachelor of arts and bachelor of science. Courses consisted of lectures and labs and not much else, and after class, says Luckhurst, athletics ruled the day. Today, students can choose from 14 degree programs – many of which involve off-campus experiences – and an extracurricular smorgasbord of more than 100 clubs and 160 recreational sports teams.

“One of my favourite times was a trip to Montreal with my gender studies class,” Malhi recalls. She also worked hard on behalf of Lifeline, an organization that raises awareness about blood and stem cell donations. And she remembers student elections as, invariably, the school year’s most frenzied time. But she and her fellow students could always repair to the Blind Duck Pub for a beverage, or play games online in the Student Centre. “You worked hard, you played hard,” she says. “Sometimes it was stressful, but what academic experience isn’t?”

In the late 1960s, of course, “online” wasn’t even a word. There were only 28 professors at UTM and Luckhurst knew most of them. In fact, “we’d eat with them in the cafeteria,” he recalls. Once, students were invited to Principal J. Tuzo Wilson’s residence to look at moon rocks from the Apollo 11 mission; Wilson, a world-famous geophysicist, made the school a centre of scientific importance.

Back in the present-day food court of the William G. Davis Building, Luckhurst bemoans the plastic fork he’s been given. “We had flatware in our cafeteria, and china with the U of T logo on it,” he says, tucking into a plate of jambalaya. “However! I can unequivocally say this is the best meal I’ve ever had at Erindale College.” Half a century ago, the cafeteria served up mac and cheese and tuna casseroles, he recalls, not the tandoori chicken and quesadillas it does today.

Suddenly, Luckhurst puts his fork down. “Hey, you know what I just thought of? I was at Erindale just after Sgt. Pepper came out!” he says.

Malhi looks quizzical. “What’s that?”

When the elder alum tells her it’s only, in his opinion, the greatest album of all time, she writes it down. “I have heard of the Beatles,” she says apologetically.

“Well, if I’ve accomplished nothing else today,” says Luckhurst good-naturedly, “I’ve introduced you to Sgt. Pepper.”

Outside, Malhi and Luckhurst compare how campus pranks have changed (Then: streakers racing through the nearby golf course. Now: students interrupting classes to record YouTube videos). A large deer suddenly bounds across their path – as common a sight now as it was 50 years ago.

“One thing I guess we’d both say?” says Luckhurst. “We’re both pretty proud of this school.”

Cynthia Macdonald (BA 1986 St. Michael’s) is a Toronto journalist.

Got a funny or interesting story about the time you spent at Erindale College/U of T Mississauga? Tell us about it in the comments below!


Reader Comments

# 1
Posted by Scott Anderson on September 28th, 2017 @ 10:57 am

We received this story about the early days of UTM from Joe Spiteri, who graduated in 1976:

About 45 years ago, I registered for classes at Erindale College through individual professors – who were sitting at tables outside the South Building. I signed up for an introductory course in geology with a red-haired professor who introduced himself as Henry. When I mentioned that I was originally from Malta, he commented that the Maltese national soccer team had a reputation for strong players. Until that day, I was undecided whether my major would be biology or geology. Our chat sealed the deal for geology.

Over the next three years (our fourth was spent downtown), we benefited from classes that included 10 to 20 students. We knew our professors as Pierre, Bill and Mike. They may have been casual in this respect, but were deadly serious about our studies – especially Pierre Robin who, in the winter of 1974, held Saturday morning remedial classes after most of the students failed a mid-term in Structural Geology.

Pierre had just graduated with a PhD from MIT and seemed unaware that his students were mere mortals. His tough lessons served me well for my career in mining, though. Bill Pearce and Mike Kimberley were equally serious. To this day, I remember a field trip to the Scarborough Bluffs and the Toronto Beaches where I learned why a wave breaks and how to identify evidence of Hurricane Hazel in the sand layers.

In those days, using a computer required punching instructions into a key card as 0s or 1s. For statistics class, we used one of six large calculators – each the size of a microwave oven – that were chained to a desk in the calculator room. You sometimes had to line up for an hour to get 10 minutes of computing time.

The population of Mississauga back then was about 190,000 and Erindale was out in the sticks. In 20 minutes, you could drive from Highway 427 to campus along Dundas Street and see only one stoplight.

Joe Spiteri
BSc 1976 UTM, BEd 1977
Acton, Ontario


Joe challenges other members of the Erindale Class of 1976 to share their memories. Send to uoft [dot] magazine [at] utoronto [dot] ca.

# 2
Posted by Scott Anderson on October 16th, 2017 @ 9:02 am

Will Draper got a summer experience he’ll never forget after his first year at Erindale College.

I enrolled in Erindale College in 1967. Dr Tuzo Wilson was the principal and was world renowned for his work in plate tectonics. He was asked that year by Ohio State University to provide a student to travel to the Arctic for the summer to do research on an ice cap on Devon Island. I was invited to join this expedition and enthusiastically accepted.

There would be two of us for 11 weeks – the leader, just back from the Antarctic, was from Ohio State University. He and I flew to Frobisher Bay — we heard in an American air force base that Bobby Kennedy had been assassinated — and then on to Resolute Bay. As we approached the airfield at Resolute we could see at least 30 crashed airplanes lying derelict around the airport. It wasn’t a terribly encouraging introduction to life in the Arctic!

There was another two-person party going to Devon Island. The four of us waited in Resolute Bay for two days during a whiteout hoping for a window of safe weather. Finally the conditions eased and we flew out of Resolute in two aircraft. Unfortunately, I was on a plane with another inexperienced Arctic person. Our aircraft landed safely and we could hear the other plane trying to land. The weather was deteriorating rapidly, and their pilot said he would make one more attempt. Thankfully they managed it. We had only a Quonset hut buried up to the roof in ice and no experience of how to fend for ourselves!

Meals were freeze-dried courtesy of the U.S. military. We shoveled ice, melted it on a Coleman, soaked the freeze dried food and cooked it on the stove. Bathing followed much the same procedure.

I received acceptance to U of T’s dental school while living in a “tent” — a three-foot hole with a canvas placed over it. I heard the news from our once-daily radio contact with headquarters, set in place for any medical problems or important messages. There weren’t too many places to celebrate! At the end of the placement, we were taken off the island by helicopter and landed on an icebreaker, where we enjoyed warm showers and a real dinner — extreme luxury!

I grew up in suburban Toronto, so living almost in solitude in the vast white landscape and perpetual sunlight opened my mind and heart in wonder and awe. I’m continually grateful for having had this singular experience in the Arctic.

Dr. Will Draper
DDS 1972
Halifax

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