Roger Butt
From their living room window, Bernard (Bern) Roy and his wife Diane can look out into the walled garden of the Collège Universitaire Dominicain/Dominican University College on Empress Street.
Bern is one of the last remaining francophone members of the largely French-Canadian community which populated LeBreton Flats and the area surrounding the Dominican complex, known historically as Rochesterville. He has been associated with the college and the attached Saint-Jean-Baptiste parish, his home church, for all of his 81 years.
As reported in the December issue of The BUZZ, the Dominican complex was placed on the market in a private sale which closed on December 15, 2023. Two entities submitted bids but, to date, no public announcement of a new owner has been made.
The heritage status of the complex is similarly unsettled, stoking community fears of what may lie ahead for a much-loved institution in the community. While the property is on the city’s heritage watchlist and on the internal staff priority list for heritage designation, only a small proportion of properties will likely make the cut before the provincial government-imposed deadline of January 1, 2025.
A once-thriving French-Canadian area
For those with a long association with the church, the prospect of losing one of the last remaining active French Catholic institutions in what was once a thriving French-Canadian neighbourhood is a painful one.
“It will be a sad day,” Bern Roy tells me, if the church is no more. He is a storehouse of memories of the church and the community.
Bern grew up in modest circumstances in a row house on Ottawa Street in LeBreton Flats. He remembers that streets on the west side of Booth Street were largely francophone while the east side was predominantly anglophone. The easy linguistic camaraderie on the Flats enabled him to grow up speaking both languages. Their two-storey house was shared with another family that lived upstairs. Both families shared the one upstairs bathroom. He recalls having to bring his “sandwich bed” in from the backyard shed every night to warm it up before climbing in.
His parents were married in Saint-Jean-Baptiste parish in 1933, shortly after the Dominican complex was rebuilt and expanded after a fire destroyed much of the original structure which dated from 1900. He and Diane married there in 1971, as did their second son Martin in 2008. Over the years, the church was the scene of countless other family weddings, baptisms, first communions, and funerals.
An altar boy for 6:30 a.m. masses
Bern recalls climbing up the hill from the Flats for one full week each month, starting at age eight, to be an altar boy for 6:30 a.m. weekday masses in the basement chapel. There were seven or eight altars around the chapel facing a main altar, each with a Dominican priest. It was a lucrative pursuit. “I had to get them to sign a piece of paper after each mass so that I’d get a nickel from them afterwards,” he laughs. “The more signatures I got the more money I made.”
Bern started school at the church-run École Sainte-Famille in LeBreton Flats. From grades three to eight, he attended École Saint-Jean Baptiste on Empress, now the Dalhousie Community Centre. His sister, Georgette, attended Saint-Dominique, the girls’ school on Eccles Street, now under renovation by Cornerstone to become supportive housing for women. His education continued at Académie De La Salle on Sussex Drive, next to Notre Dame Cathedral. He completed grades 10 to 12 at the Ottawa Technical High School, where he was part of the first class of francophone boys.
The diverse LeBreton community destroyed
The expropriation and razing of LeBreton Flats in 1965 destroyed the diverse but tight-knit community, wedged between the escarpment and the Ottawa River. It caused great distress among residents. Families scattered, many moving to the shiny new suburbs emerging around Ottawa. Many of the francophone families, though, remained nearby, migrating to the south side of Albert Street. Some, including the Roy family, bought houses above the escarpment in the area known historically as Rochesterville. Despite, or because of, the dislocation, friendships forged on the Flats were lifelong.
The family was now a stone’s throw from the church, the heart of the francophone community, but also close to the full range of French-speaking businesses and institutions in the area, including a produce cooperative, a shoemaker, a construction company, a bank (the Saint-Jean Baptiste Caisse Populaire), and the Laundreville Funeral Home, which handled all the funerals for the church.
Both of Bern’s parents were heavily involved with the Saint-Jean-Baptiste parish throughout their lives. His mother took in boarders from the college for a number of years. He remembers her shepherding some of them through the difficult decision of whether or not to join the Dominican Order. Bern’s father sat on various church societies such as the Adoreurs du Sacrament, and Bern himself sat on the church board. Following the death of Bern’s father, his mother became the seamstress for the Dominican Order, sewing for them twice a week and bringing home socks to mend to supplement the family’s income.
A focal point of the francophone social scene
The church hall on Empress, the Salle Saint-Jean-Baptiste (now the Chinese Christian Church of Ottawa), was a focal point of the francophone social scene. Bern organized a bowling league in the downstairs bowling hall. The banquets and parties were legendary. For some events, Bern recalls decorating the hall with leftover flowers from the Laundreville Funeral Home.
The beautiful walled garden, while serving as a place of meditation and quiet walks for the Dominicans, also had tennis courts. Every winter it hosted a skating rink where local kids could skate together with college students. Another outdoor rink would be built each year behind Saint Vincent’s Hospital near the residence of the Frères des Écoles Chrétiennes. The garden was also the scene of an annual Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day celebration on June 24.
Bern recalls that the Dominicans took an active interest in the welfare of the local francophone population. He speaks admiringly of one particular Dominican priest, Père Morin, who was a strong advocate for the French-speaking community, particularly those less fortunate.
Père Morin led an effort in the 1970s to establish the co-op apartment building at 100 Empress to enable elderly francophones to remain in the neighbourhood. His picture is still displayed in the lobby of the building. Another priest, Rolf Hasenack, later became a city alderman. Bern recalls him leading a petition to close off the Lorne Avenue hill due to the safety hazard of cars and pedestrians navigating the steep incline in the winter.
Today the Saint-Jean-Baptiste congregation is much diminished from the days when tickets were required to ensure a seat at Christmas Eve Midnight Mass. The Dominicans continue to operate the college for the current term and a number still live in the convent.
But the francophone community that supported the church and the college is a shadow of its former self.
The Dalhousie community anxiously awaits news on what comes next for Saint-Jean-Baptiste parish and the Dominican University College. Bern and Diane, still living in a large modern house on the same property as the old family home, will be watching with great interest.