From the archives of the Sault Ste. Marie Public Library:
Throughout the early 20th century, the police in Sault Ste. Marie was responsible for keeping in check behaviour that was criminal or immoral by the standards of the time. They shut down bootlegging operations, cleaned up illegal gambling operations, and… cracked down on ice cream sales.
In fact, as comical as it seems, the Sault Daily Star commented on the “unusual importance” the ice cream cases had, particularly as they related to the Lord’s Day Act and Sunday business operations.
In 1906, the Lord’s Day Act was formally passed, which federally made Sunday a day of rest in Canada, banning commercial activity, sports, entertainment, and more. While the legislation was new, the concept was not, with the practice dating back to 17th century England. The legislation, and the social push in the years leading up to its passing, put ice cream sellers directly in the line of fire.
In 1904, for example, storekeeper George Trudeau sold cigars, fruit, ice cream, peanuts, and soft drinks at a St. John Baptiste picnic on a Sunday. Organizers had already been in contact with the police before the picnic; the chief had responded that while he could not authorize breaking the law, “he personally would not take any action.”
However, despite the police chief’s promise, a group known as the Lord’s Day Alliance caught wind of the selling of refreshments, brought the issue to the attention of the mayor and pushed for it to be resolved legally. George Trudeau landed himself in court – across from the Crown Attorney who purchased cigars from him, no less. In keeping with other similar cases, Magistrate Quibell was lenient, imposing a fine of $1 plus costs of $4.55, the smallest punishment he could level.
This was not the last of the Sunday ice cream controversies, nor the last of the Lord’s Day Alliance. In 1905, the group again brought an issue to the attention of the authorities. Louis Apostle was charged with selling ice cream on Sundays out of the Soo Candy Kitchen. This case, however, raised an important point: could ice cream as a food be considered a necessity under the law? If so, it could be sold on Sundays; if not, the store would need to remain closed.
By 1907, a local judge made a decision about how necessary ice cream was: specifically, that people couldn’t make that judgment call for others. As the newspaper explained, “the customer must be allowed to make his own choice of food, whether ice cream and fruit or ham and eggs… [T]he restaurant keeper cannot inquire whether the food is taken to satisfy hunger or to gratify the palate.”
However, just because restaurants could serve ice cream without being questioned – or questioning their clientele – didn’t mean that all ice cream on Sundays was fair game. In 1913, another man, Arthur Chirikolia, landed himself in court for selling the dessert.
Chirikolia owned a shoeshine parlour in town and held both a peddler’s license and permission to operate as a restaurant keeper. He told Magistrate Elliot that he thought this afforded him the ability to sell ice cream out of his vendor’s cart. After all, his defence lawyer argued, he could “place his cart in a fixed position in the street, and in one place conduct from the [wagon] the regular business of a restaurant” and sell ice cream legally. However, with his moving cart, he was deemed not to be a restaurant, and therefore could not sell on Sundays. A peddler couldn’t sell food, and a restaurant could not move, and so Chirikolia was forced to discontinue his Sunday sales going forward.
In 1919, fifteen ice cream sellers organized and petitioned City Council for the right to sell their wares on Sundays, sparking a lengthy debate that highlighted the beliefs, sticking points, and biases of the time. According to Alderman Lake, “It’s just a question of whether you want to fill the Sunday schools or the ice cream parlour.” This was not the first time it was suggested that ice cream parlours were detrimental to Sunday schools: three years earlier in Steelton, the main objection to ice cream parlours was that children spent money on ice cream there that should have been donated to Sunday schools instead.
Alderman Dawson was also against Sunday ice cream sales, saying that it was “just an effort to have the same conditions exist here as exist in the United States.” Ice cream sales were permitted on Sundays in Michigan, and numerous young people would go across the river to buy the dessert. As one man would tell the newspaper, “What gets me… is that we’re so straight-laced in Canada that even the sale of ice cream is prohibited. The workingman’s only day with his family is Sunday, and on a stifling day, he isn’t allowed to buy the seasonable refreshments that everybody can get in the American Soo…. Personally, I do not believe that the Canadian Soo people are any better or more right living than our neighbours of the Michigan Soo, who see no harm in an ice cream on Sunday.”
Alderman Magill also made note of who specifically wanted to open on Sundays: “English-speaking people who keep ice cream parlours have not signed the petition.”
Ultimately, Council voted unanimously to reject the petition. Ice cream parlours would stay closed on Sundays.
However, the parlour owners were not to be deterred. If they were considered to be restaurants, they would have been permitted to be open and serve ice cream, so the proprietors applied to the Chief of Police for restaurant licenses. These licenses were granted, but quickly revoked. In order to be counted as a restaurant, they had to be “prepared to serve regular meals,” and, while most had supplies on hand to make and serve light lunches, they sold almost no meals. The police deemed that “it was not considered that they were doing a real restaurant business,” since people were only buying ice cream and not sandwiches.
Public opinion certainly seemed to be on the side of the ice cream parlour proprietors. As one letter to the editor noted, “One cannot make Bible students of a nation by legislation,” before suggesting that ice cream parlours were an important step in making citizens happy. “Let Sault Ste. Marie try to make people want to live in it,” the letter writer concluded.
In 1923, the issue was back in the news again, when more ice cream parlour proprietors petitioned Council again to permit Sunday sales. Councillors considered a wide range of decisions made in cities across the province before ultimately referring the decision to the police commission. Numerous organizations contacted the police in favour of the Sunday closures, including Reverend Hugh McFarlane of the Ministerial Association, who expressed concern that “If the ice cream parlours were allowed to remain open on Sunday… then there would be the tendency to have other shops open, and young girls would be employed there who should be employed otherwise.” The police declined to permit ice cream parlours to operate on Sundays overall – parlours could apply for a restaurant license and be considered on their own individual merit.
It is not clear when Sunday ice cream sales were formally allowed in Sault Ste. Marie. In the thick of the controversy, one Sault Daily Star columnist griped that thanks to the passing of the Lord’s Day Act, “A Canadian may now order a meal of ginger snaps and ice-cream, but if he orders ice-cream and asks for a side-order of ginger snaps he is aiding and abetting immorality.” Eventually, the furor died down, and Saultites could order ginger snaps and ice cream in whatever combination they pleased without fear of corruption.
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