​The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin officially opened the doors to its residential hospice, lovingly known as The Cottage, a year ago, right here in St. Thomas. One year of no-cost, compassionate, 24/7 end-of-life care for local Elgin County and St. Thomas families. One year of life-changing interactions, powerful connections, and final memories which will be felt for generations. One year of community impact that is hard to summarize but means more than any words could ever explain.

​The opening of The Cottage marked a truly special milestone in the organization's history. Initially beginning in 2019, their scope was advocacy, planning, and fundraising for a physical hospice. “St. Joseph’s Health Care Society sponsored the development of a business plan and feasibility study, and allocated key resources,” Brenda Fleming, Executive Director for The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin, explained as we chatted inside The Cottage on a beautiful day. 

That same year, the Deputy Premier and Minister of Health, Christine Elliot, announced the Province of Ontario’s endorsement and financial support for hospice beds in Elgin County. In 2021, the City of St. Thomas gifted land for the hospice, nestled quietly in the woods atop the peaceful grounds of Waterworks Park. In June of 2025, the hospice announced a historic $3.5 million donation from the Estate of Marianne Barrie, a trailblazing lawyer who was deeply dedicated to family and philanthropy and had been a caregiver herself. The Hospice of Elgin was officially renamed The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin in honour of the incredible donation, with her family legacy living on and her gift supporting countless families for years to come.
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In their first six months of operation, The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin cared for 83 residents, their families, and friends; supported 71 community members through grief programs; facilitated 27 hospital referrals; and provided 25 guest suite stays to families so they could remain close to their loved ones. “We have only just started to support exceptional end-of-life care in Elgin, and we look forward to many years of continued partnership with everyone in our community,” Fleming said. “Hospice is a community resource, built and funded by the community, for the community. We are truly honoured to be charged with such a noble purpose for the individuals and families in Elgin.”

The need for a hospice in Elgin County was evident. As of November of 2021, there were 800 deaths annually in Elgin County, impacting roughly 4,000 family members and friends each year, and recent population growth projections put those statistics at an even higher number. Before the Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin, community members seeking palliative care or end-of-life care had to be placed in a hospital, at home with family support (which is not always possible), or in nearby communities like London, Woodstock, or Chatham-Kent. Friends and family would then have to travel out of town to be with their loved ones during their final days, and although our hospitals do their best, acute care settings are not always appropriate for those at end-of-life.
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“We don’t want our families to have to leave their community for care,” said Robert Furneaux, who sits on the Board of Directors for The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin. “We want them to be able to stay close to home. Having this hospice in our community adds to the capacity of our healthcare.” 

As Fleming explained, individuals living at home were visiting the Emergency Department for acute, unmanaged, or uncontrolled symptoms, placing a great strain on them, their caregivers, health care providers, and loved ones. Since The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin opened, they have been able to relieve some of this strain by accepting individuals directly from the hospital and from their home in the community, providing an environment where they can be supported and cared for, and where loved ones are free to remain by their side and celebrate all of life’s moments. Every individual admitted to hospice creates space within our health system for another individual to receive care in a hospital, the emergency room, or at home, thereby increasing overall system resources and support.
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Having access to a hospice in our community also means it can be shaped by and for everyone living in Elgin County and St. Thomas. “Having The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin is a generational change for our community,” said Furneaux. “Together, our community created this beautiful, multifaceted space. That is essential because this hospice has had and will continue to have an impact on us all. This hospice is Elgin’s.” 

From the start, the local community has been very engaged in the development and design of the hospice and its services. Fleming explained how public engagement sessions, community information, and feedback opportunities were planned throughout the six-year project to ensure the community voice was always heard and considered. In fact, the design inspiration for The Cottage came directly from the community and is a nod to the rurality of Elgin County and the activities often enjoyed by those who live throughout it. “The people in our community have been waiting for this for so long. We are one of the last areas to not have hospice as part of our health care system until now,” said Fleming.
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As difficult as it has been to be one of the last areas to add hospice to our health system, it has also had a silver lining of learning from other hospices, benefiting from advancements, and having essential community input on design, services, and supports. “There is a benefit to being last,” Fleming explained. “We have been able to learn from others, and we have been able to create and offer unique services.” Stepping into the hospice, it’s clear that tremendous thought and care went into every part of its design, informed by lessons learned and community input. 

The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin is nestled in the woods adjacent to the peaceful grounds of Waterworks Park, surrounded by nature, filled with warmth, and grounded in compassion. The facility houses eight private suites, each bright and welcoming, with large windows overlooking the gardens and woodlands. The design is peaceful and home-like, inviting comfort and calm with cozy seating areas, sofa beds, and thoughtful touches like cuddle beds, which allow family and friends to snuggle up with loved ones during their stay.
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Each suite has an adjacent family area and private patio, which is fully accessible, allowing beds to be wheeled outside to enjoy the sights, sounds, and feeling of sunlight and nature. Their fully accessible spa room features a jetted tub and walk-in shower, allowing for comfortable care for individuals throughout their stay. There is a children’s play space. A space for respite. The Bunkie is a private onsite family sleeping area for those visiting from a distance who want to stay close by. The Canoe Cafe is a space for family and friends to enjoy refreshments and refuel themselves each day. Community gardens that grow vegetables to be used right in the on-site kitchen. Trails connecting to Waterworks Park. A fire pit and patio. An art gallery, and so much more. The space feels comforting, welcoming, and calm, but also full of love, joy, and celebration. “Our hospice is a place for people to come together and just be family. Many times, medical needs overwhelm and overcome everything, but with hospice, we are able to provide 24/7 care for families to come and just be families, not caregivers,” said Fleming.

In addition to its well-considered design, the Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin offers numerous programs and services to the community. Supportive grief and bereavement programming includes yoga, meditation, walking groups, kids’ activities, therapeutic arts, and more. The hospice also includes a community hub with an outpatient clinic for individuals who want to stay at home longer, where they can access services during the day and return home in the evening, benefiting both the individual and their caregivers. “This is a place where we can learn and grow with each other,” said Furneaux. “The hospice gives us the capability to take care of one another, celebrate the moments that matter, and care for each other on a continuing and tailored basis, in a convenient and close community setting.”
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“Hospice is not about dying; it’s about living life to the end of natural life, creating moments that matter, and supporting people to celebrate their lives and create lasting memories,” Fleming explained. “Hospice is open and available for everyone, from all different religious paths and walks of life.” The Cottage also houses a reflection and spiritual care room, and the hospice has a spiritual care coordinator who works to maintain, foster, grow and meet the spiritual needs of all Elgin community members. “It is our job to recognize traditions and tailor our practices to service our community in the most comfortable space possible,” said Furneaux.

All services and programs at The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin are free of charge, with approximately half of the operating budget funded by donations and volunteer support. Government funding covers only 53% of the costs of providing compassionate end-of-life support. Every remaining moment of comfort, dignity, and presence is made possible by community members. “Our fundraising team works hard to create fun events in our community,” Fleming said.

Last year, they hosted a dunk tank at Geerlinks Home Hardware where staff and board members could be dunked in support of hospice, and they held a beautiful holiday lighting ceremony to kick off their first holiday season. Hike for Hospice took place on June 6, bringing together families and community members to remember, celebrate, and ensure compassionate end-of-life care is available to each family who needs it.
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They also offer the opportunity to sponsor a day of care and provide numerous other donation options. If you are looking to make a community impact for this truly important organization, the hospice also relies on a large and incredible team of volunteers who staff reception, visit individuals staying in hospice, help the chef in the kitchen, maintain the grounds, and more.

Hospice care is one of those things you may not fully comprehend the impact of until you need it. 'But its impact is beyond imaginable to a spouse, siblings, or family members who have been running themselves ragged trying to care for a loved one at home. It’s priceless for a family to simply spend time together, knowing their loved one is receiving the often complex care they need. How comforting it is to have someone compassionate and knowledgeable walk you through the experience. To know that your loved one is safe, comfortable, and cared for in their last moments. It’s genuinely impossible to fully articulate the difference these facilities and the people who shape them make in a community, given their impact on families.

Hospice is a life-changing support for our community, and the beautiful, thoughtful, and welcoming space at The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin is certainly one to be #stthomasproud of. Now that it is here, let's keep it supported and going strong through donations, volunteering, and important conversations. To learn more about how you can support The Barrie Family Hospice of Elgin, visit their website, follow them on Facebook and Instagram, and stay in the know.

On the night of September 15, 1885, a freight train rounded a curve just outside St. Thomas, Ontario, and changed history in ways nobody standing on those tracks could have imagined. The elephant that died there that night was already world-famous. What nobody knew yet was that his name was about to outlive him by centuries.
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You already know Jumbo’s story. If you want the full account of his life, his years at the London Zoo, his arrival in Barnum’s circus, and the strange and disputed circumstances of his death right here in Railway City, Railway City Tourism has you covered. What we want to talk about is what happened next. Not just in St. Thomas. Not just in North America. Everywhere.

A Word With a Storied Past
Here’s the thing about the word “jumbo”: it probably predates the elephant. There are some tales that indicate it originated with the elephant, but etymologists have traced a version of it to West African languages, where it is perhaps  slang for "clumsy, unwieldy fellow", which itself is possibly originated from a word for "elephant" in a West African language.

The honest answer is that nobody is entirely sure where the word came from before it landed on that elephant. Which is fitting, really. Even the name itself is too big to pin down.

What is clear is that when P.T. Barnum brought Jumbo to America in 1882, something clicked into place. The elephant was billed as the largest in the world. Whether or not that was strictly true, Barnum made sure everyone believed it. And almost immediately, the name Jumbo began to mean something bigger than just one animal.

How One Elephant Became an Adjective
Within a year of Jumbo’s death, “jumbo” was already appearing in advertisements and newspaper copy to describe oversized products that had nothing to do with elephants or circuses. The word had escaped.

Think about how thoroughly it took over. Jumbo jets carry hundreds of passengers across oceans. Jumbotrons dominate the sight lines of stadiums from Toronto to Tokyo. You can buy jumbo eggs, jumbo shrimp (English’s favourite oxymoron), jumbo bags of popcorn, and jumbo playing cards. There are jumbo paperclips. There is jumbo bathroom tissue. At some point “jumbo” stopped being a proper noun tied to one famous animal and became a universal promise: this one is bigger.

That kind of linguistic legacy is extraordinarily rare. Most famous animals leave behind a statue, a plaque, maybe a children’s book. Jumbo left behind an adjective that four billion English speakers use without a second thought.

​And a statue.

The First Merch Craze
Long before his name became part of the language, Jumbo’s face was already everywhere. After Barnum acquired him, Jumbo’s image began appearing on cigar boxes, shoelaces, patent medicines, postcards, and newspaper advertisements at a pace that nobody was orchestrating from the top. Barnum himself was not coordinating most of it. Merchants and advertisers simply latched on because the name meant something to people. It meant beloved. It meant spectacular. It meant big.

This was Jumbomania, and it was the first real pop culture merch craze in the modern sense: decentralized, crowd-driven, and completely out of the hands of the original celebrity. Sound familiar? The Elgin County Heritage Centre’s Jumbomania exhibit, which ran through early 2026 to mark the 140th anniversary of Jumbo’s death, captured this phenomenon beautifully. As curator Madeleine Howard put it: “Even if people don’t necessarily know Jumbo the great African elephant, they still know his name. He’s everywhere, and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

 The Weirdest Places “Jumbo” Landed
​If you need proof of just how far the name travelled, consider this: in 1979, a couple named Jan and Anita Meurs opened a grocery store in a former church building in Tilburg, Netherlands. They named it Jumbo, specifically to one-up a local rival store called Torro. That cheeky act of competitive branding grew into the second-largest supermarket chain in the Netherlands, with 740 stores and roughly 22% of the national market share. Our own mascot, Eddie the Elephant, recently made a trip to see one for himself!

A grocery empire, named for an elephant, born from a rivalry, operating out of a church. The name Jumbo has done stranger things than anyone in St. Thomas could have predicted on the night that train came around the bend.

There are Jumbo-branded board games, a longtime Dutch toy and games company whose elephant logo is unmistakable across Europe. There have been Tour de France cycling teams wearing the Jumbo name. There are Juicy Jumbo hot dogs (including an ode (and unofficial theme song for those in the know) to the wieners by Canadian pop-punk band Sum-41), and jumbo-sized everything, from stadium sodas to bulk warehouse bags.

The word has become its own thing now: a floating signifier of abundance and scale that can be attached to almost any product in almost any language and still land the way Barnum always intended it to.

The Word Came Home
St. Thomas has held onto Jumbo with good reason. The statue outside the city. The commemorations. The Jumbomania exhibit that drew visitors to the Elgin County Heritage Centre to see circus supplements, original advertising cards, and the strange, sprawling story of what one elephant’s name became.

There’s something worth sitting with in all of this. Jumbo arrived in St. Thomas as a circus act passing through. He didn’t choose this place, and this place didn’t get much of a chance to know him before he was gone. But the word he left behind has never stopped moving.

Every time someone orders a jumbo coffee, boards a jumbo jet, or stands in front of a Jumbotron watching their team, a small piece of that September night in a railway town in southwestern Ontario is still in motion.
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That’s a legacy that’s hard to put a number on. But if you had to, it would have to be a very, very large one.

Avi Silver will tell you, pretty cheerfully, that they never want to write a trilogy again.

Then they'll tell you how proud they are of this one. Both things are true, and it seems to me that’s likely a pretty common emotion for an author to feel.

Avi, a speculative fiction author and self-described "noted menace," moved to St. Thomas in January 2025 with their partner, fellow author Sienna Tristen. Not long after, they finished One Morning Sun, the final book of the Sãoni Cycle trilogy.

Four years in the making, written through a pandemic, grief, and a whole lot of doubt, the book is out in the world now and has been nominated for the 2026 Aurora Awards. 

An Unlikely Beginning
Avi has been telling stories for as long as they can remember. Poetry came first. As a teenager growing up in small-town Massachusetts, they were doing spoken-word and poetry slams across the country, guided by a mentor who brought together young creatives who needed a way to express their journeys and gave them a stage. That early grounding in language, in the weight of a well-placed word, shows up throughout their writing even now.

The jump to fiction came later, and through a characteristically roundabout route. Avi and their partner, Sienna Tristen, originally met at fourteen, in an anime chat room, lost touch for years, and eventually reconnected as adults. The core of their relationship, as Avi describes it, has always been writing. They share a fictional world called Shale, a kind of collaborative sandbox where they worldbuild, experiment with ideas, and tell stories together. It's an unusual creative arrangement, and it clearly works.

When Sienna published their first book, Avi decided to try. "I did not yet know how hard writing a book was," Avi says, "and so it was easy." They laugh, telling this part.

The result was Two Dark Moons, published in 2019. Described as "Princess Mononoke meets How to Train Your Dragon," it's a queer hopepunk YA novel set in a world where your whole life, including your gender, is shaped by what phase of the moon you were born under. Avi wrote it as a gift to their younger self, as a way of exploring what it might feel like to be trans in a world where transness is entirely ordinary. "I wanted to work with secrecy and family," they say, "without re-traumatizing young queer readers."

So they wrote about giant lizards. It worked.

Finding Ground Here
Avi is candid about the adjustment to moving to a smaller city. Coming from spaces where a larger queer and arts community was just sort of there, right around the corner, meant that the connections they've made here feel different. More deliberate.

"Coming into a smaller community has made those connections so precious," they say, "and reminded me why I wrote it."
St. Thomas, they note, reminds them of where they grew up. That's not a neutral observation; it means something to them. There's an intimacy to it. And they've found, in the arts and culture community here in particular, people genuinely working to amplify what this city has and can be. "There are people so encouraged to work locally," Avi says. "There's this thing of, when there's only this many of us, we gotta find a way to do it."
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That spirit, they think, is very much what the Sãoni Cycle is ultimately about: even if we don't understand each other, we can care about each other.

The Aurora Nomination
Here's a funny thing about the Aurora nomination for One Morning Sun: Avi didn't submit it themselves for the nomination.
"I went, for real, and then closed the tab," they say. "I thought, it's a third book in a trilogy, it's an indie book. This isn't going to happen."

Someone else put it forward. Enough people agreed that it landed on the ballot. Avi learned about the nomination at a Passover celebration, a little dramatically, and woke up the next morning to confirm it was real.
One Morning Sun is nominated in the Best Young Adult Novel category for the 2026 Aurora Awards. The Aurora Awards, presented by the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association (CSFFA), recognize the best in Canadian science fiction, fantasy, and horror each year.

What the nomination meant, Avi says, is that something they'd struggled with and nearly given up on had actually reached people. "Something that I struggled with so much got love that I really didn't expect." That, more than anything, is what made it feel real.

This is also Avi's second Aurora nomination. Their novella Pluralities, a queer slipstream-meets-space-adventure story about gender euphoria, was nominated in 2023 in what they describe as the hardest category to crack. They lost to one of their favourite authors. They seem genuinely delighted about it.

For anyone who wants to dig deeper into what's happening in Canadian speculative fiction, the CSFFA offers memberships starting at $10 a year, which includes access to works from across all nomination categories. It's worth a look. As Avi puts it: "There is so much Canadian talent in science fiction, fantasy, horror. We are killing it out here." Find more at csffa.ca.

The book launch for One Morning Sun was held at Lockwood Books right here in St. Thomas, and Avi is quick to mention it. "I want to make sure their name gets shouted out," they say. It's the kind of detail that matters to them, crediting the people and places that showed up.

A Love Letter, Still
At the end of our conversation, I asked Avi what they hoped young queer and neurodivergent readers would actually take away from the Sãoni Cycle, the series they'd spent six years building and struggling through, and finished, finally, in this city.

They got quiet for a second.

"I feel like it's okay to be too much," they said. "I have just given up trying to be anything but what I am."
There's a character in the books who is loud and always getting into trouble. There's another who is deeply autistic and largely opts out of social expectation, and who spends the third book asking themself whether they even want to be around people at all, and if so, how to bear that. Both of them, Avi says, are aspects of themselves. Both of them belong in the story.

"I think the thing I hope queer kids and neurodivergent kids can get out of it is just... there's a place. There's a place for you to be way too much of anything."
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It's a simple message, but sometimes those are the ones that matter most.

The City of St. Thomas has issued a Request for Information (RFI) with an Expression of Interest (EOI) document to invite qualified developers, investors, and community partners to submit proposals for the potential purchase and adaptive reuse of the former Wellington Street Public School property, located at 50 Wellington Street.

Known as the Wellington Block, this City-owned site includes a designated heritage building constructed in 1898 and occupies a prominent corner at Wellington and Elgin Streets. The City is seeking visionary and innovative proposals that respect the site’s heritage character while contributing to economic growth, housing supply, cultural vitality, and long-term community revitalization.

The EOI outlines opportunities for a range of uses, including: mixed-use development, residential (market-rate or affordable), boutique hotel or hospitality, cultural or institutional uses, commercial space, and other creative adaptive reuse concepts that align with the City’s strategic priorities.

“This Expression of Interest represents an important step in reimagining a landmark property with deep community roots,” said Mayor Joe Preston. “We’re looking for proposals that both honour the building’s history and help build a vibrant future for St. Thomas.”

Purchasing Process and Questions
This process is being administered through the City’s Purchasing Division using the Bids & Tenders platform. All questions must be submitted through the “Submit a Question” function on Bids & Tenders.

Key Dates:
• EOI Release Date: May 13, 2026
• Optional Site Tours: June 10 and/or June 24, 2026 at 1:30 p.m.
• Submission Deadline: July 15, 2026

Download the EOI Document
Visit the Bids & Tenders Portal

There’s a mural in the front office at Cole Munro Foods that stops you in your tracks. Commissioned as a gift from a long-time supplier, it tells the full life cycle of a trout in rich, sweeping detail from a fingerling hatching in a cold-water stream all the way to harvest. Look closely enough, and you’ll spot easter eggs worked in by the artist: one of the company’s boats, a basketball player, a yin and yang symbol tucked in for the twins, Andrew and Harrison. A company that has built a close enough connection with a supplier that they would commission something that personal, that specific, is telling you something about itself before you’ve even asked a question.

Geoff Cole and Todd Munro founded the company in 1994, operating out of Port Stanley, just two men and a red truck. Geoff grew up near Lake Huron, gained commercial fish experience as a summer job, and later worked with a trout co-op in Guelph. When that operation wound down, a friend nudged him toward starting something of his own. He wasn’t sold on the idea at first. But he and his wife, Susan, looked at a map, identified an area with the right existing zoning, and started calling around. They settled on Port Stanley. Susan, who was still working in Mississauga at the time, agreed to give it a year.
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That was 30 years ago.

“He [Geoff] said, ' Come for a year,” Susan recalls with a laugh. “We’re going to stay here for a year and then move on.”
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Instead, they had their children here. Made their closest friends here. And gradually, almost without realizing it, built one of the most significant food businesses in southwestern Ontario. Today, Cole Munro supplies roughly 80% of Canada’s fresh trout, a statistic that still feels slightly surreal when you’re standing in their bright, purpose-built facility on Edward Street in St. Thomas, talking to Susan and her son Harrison about ice rooms and feed conversion ratios and what it takes to grow a fish in Ontario.

The company didn’t grow in a straight line. It grew the way many great things do, through stubbornness and curiosity and a few decisions that looked small at the time. When the farms that supplied their fish began to age out, longtime operators retiring without successors, Cole Munro started buying them rather than lose their supply. They now own farms on Manitoulin Island and Georgian Bay, with roughly 150 employees across the entire operation, and process somewhere between 12 and 13 million pounds of fish a year.

​Harrison, who leads packaging and new product development, lets that number land for a moment before adding context: By volume, Cole Munro processes enough sustainably farmed Ontario Trout to hit early 50% of the entire sustainable fish yield of Lake Erie, and they still have room to grow.

When it came time to build a permanent processing home, something they could grow into, something they designed themselves, they had options. Brantford. Woodstock. London. Chatham. All reasonable choices on paper.

They chose St. Thomas, and the deciding factor wasn’t a tax incentive or a site servicing deal. It was their people.
“We have several employees who’ve been with us for over 20 years,” Susan explains. “When we started looking at where to build, we didn’t want to lose them. That was a big part of it.”

The location made practical sense, too. Two hours from Toronto, two hours from Detroit, with strong access to a skilled labour pool and the City’s reliable municipal water infrastructure, an underappreciated advantage for a business that processes at serious volume and requires rigorous water quality testing on site. But it was the community piece that sealed it.
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They lucked out on a ten-acre property at 175 Edward Street, and they didn’t take that for granted. The building that went up on that site reflects a company that has thought carefully about what it means to build something that lasts.

A building that was designed to think ahead.

The option to build with purpose can be a valuable opportunity compared to a retrofit, and the U-Shape line at Cole Munro is a perfect example. Incoming product arrives at the receiving bay on one side: finished product loads out from the other. There’s a logic to the flow, almost like a chain of custody, but for food. Every step from receiving to processing to packaging moves in one direction, clean and intentional. Food safety thinking is built into the architecture.

Walk through, and you notice the same intentionality applied to benefit the people who work there. The lunchroom has big windows. This sounds like a small thing, but it isn’t. Employee spaces are often tucked into windowless corners as an afterthought rather than an intentional consideration. Here, the natural light feels deliberate. A family doing what they can to make everyone feel at home.

The processing floor itself is a mix of advanced automation and skilled human hands, and the balance between the two is interesting. Automated scales handle precision weighing for packaging. Bone vacuuming equipment does what it sounds like: it pulls fine pin bones from fillets with impressive efficiency. But despite the automation, there are an impressive number of skilled hands operating equipment, checking quality, and precision cutting. These are experienced people. And sometimes, Susan notes with a bit of pride, the equipment struggles to keep up with them.
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“Some of our staff have been here a long time. They’re incredibly skilled at what they do.”

One of my favourite elements about the opportunity to get a look inside the manufacturing and processing operations in St. Thomas is learning about the very practical elements of a business that are so obvious you don’t even think about it, so seeing it surprises you. The ice room is one of those details that catches you off guard. Of course, ice is central to the whole operation, fresh fish, tightly temperature-controlled from the moment it arrives at the receiving bay. In a business built on freshness, ice isn’t just a practical necessity; it’s part of the product’s story. And it’s part of Harrison and Andrew’s employment story, as shovelling that ice was one of their first company jobs.

But back to the operation's intentionality. Even waste is salvaged using a network of pipes above the processing floor, ensuring that fish waste from the operation isn’t wasted. The pipes carry it to another refrigerated space, where it is emptied into large cooler bins for transportation. It’s diverted to pet food companies, a small but telling detail about how Cole Munro approaches its footprint. Nothing goes out the door that can be put to use.

Water processing is also a major consideration. Water quality is a priority on the farm as much as it is at Cole Munro's processing facility. Water quality and access were among the factors that weighed in favour of expanding the facilities in St. Thomas. The City of St. Thomas consistently ranks in the top tier of municipal water systems in Ontario water regulations. It’s a crucial consideration in food processing. Cole Munro continues with that consideration and treats wastewater to ensure effluent entering the municipal system is already treated, meeting requirements similar to those of the municipal outflows. This type of conservation and intentionality supports not only their values as a company, but our entire municipal structure.  

One thing Susan and Harrison come back to more than once is how aquaculture is perceived. Most people, they say, think of fish processing as a fisheries business: boats, lakes, quotas. But what Cole Munro does is closer to agriculture. Farming, in the truest sense.
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“If you don’t have clean water, you don’t have good fish,” Susan says. “Just like a crop farmer cares about their soil.”
Every fish the company processes is traced from the moment the egg hatches. What it ate, where it was raised, and how it was cared for. The company has implemented international certifications and maintains consistent best practices across all farms, regardless of which level of government each farm reports to; some operate under provincial Ministry of Natural Resources licenses, while others operate under Band Council resolutions with Indigenous partners.

Those Indigenous partnerships, Susan mentions, are woven through the whole farming operation. Every fish Cole Munro processes is raised in cooperation with First Nations communities, either on First Nation land, through a band-licensed operation, or in direct partnership with an Indigenous-owned farm. It’s a piece of the story that maybe gets less attention in southwestern Ontario than it would further north, but it matters. Fishing is part of First Nations culture and identity. It sustains First Nations peoples and economies and is a constitutionally protected inherent and Treaty right. It’s clear that those partnerships matter to Cole Munro in their stewardship of the water systems they care for and the partnerships they’ve built.

As with any farm, climate change presents unique challenges. For Cole Munro, the biggest environmental challenge looking ahead is warming water temperatures. Trout thrive between 12 and 18 degrees Celsius. Above that, feed conversion declines, stress risk rises, and growth slows. Ontario’s winters are home to frozen lakes, a long, cold season that delays their grow-out timeline to about 18 months compared to 8 months in a warmer climate like Chile. But that freeze is a feature, not a bug. The cold resets the water. Kills parasites. Keeps the fish healthy.
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On the nutrition side, trout holds up remarkably well compared to other proteins. The feed conversion ratio, “how many pounds of feed are needed to produce a pound of fish,” is about 1.2:1, far more efficient than pork or beef. It’s high in omega-3s and protein values highly comparable to beef, but is generally easier to digest. And if you’re buying Cole Munro products at your local grocery store or Costco, they were predominantly raised in northern Ontario and processed in southwestern Ontario. Not Scotland. Not South America. Here.

Susan grew up as a bit of a wanderer. Lived in a lot of places. Never really expected to stay anywhere.
And then St. Thomas became home, and it happened almost before she noticed. Her parents eventually moved closer. Two nephews relocated. People who started as strangers became some of the best friends she and Geoff have ever had.
“This is the Hub,” she says, laughing. “Everyone comes here for Christmas now.”

What they appreciate about St. Thomas, in practical terms, is the balance. Big enough to have real infrastructure, a good hospital, access to labour, proximity to London, and an expressway that gets you almost anywhere in southern Ontario in two hours. Small enough that community investment still lands. Still means something.

Susan and Geoff didn’t just raise their family in St. Thomas; they raised a business. From two men and a truck to what is now their third local location (second in St. Thomas), the pair recognizes that there is still room to grow because of the community they chose to call home. Their workforce and family are here, with both their sons, Harrison and Andrew, graduating from shovelling ice to making a space for themselves in the family business's growth.
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It’s evident that Cole Munro is still very much a family business, ready to help you put food on the table for yours.

​Cole Munro Foods is located at 175 Edward Street in St. Thomas. Their fresh Ontario steelhead trout is available at major grocers across Ontario and Quebec. Learn more at colemunro.com.

The funny thing about a box is that you barely notice it until you really, really need it. (Unless you are a millennial and have a veritable collection of “good boxes”, and I’d almost bet at least one of them was made right here in St. Thomas.)

You’re in a grocery store, half-thinking about dinner, and you walk past one of those tidy cardboard displays stacked with snacks or pet food. Or you’re opening an online order at your kitchen table, and you can tell, instantly, whether the packaging was an afterthought or part of the experience. The box is doing its job either way. Quietly. Reliably. Almost invisibly.

And then you tour a place like Royal Containers in St. Thomas, and suddenly you can’t unsee it. You start looking for the little stamp on the bottom. You start wondering who designed the die cut. You start noticing the printing. I can’t be alone in this.

Royal Containers makes corrugated packaging. That’s the plain-language version. Boxes, trays, pads, retail displays, high-graphic packaging, the things that move products safely through the world and make them look good on a shelf while they’re at it. But when I sat down with Greg Marcella, it became clear that the real story here isn’t just “they make boxes.” It’s how they make them, why they chose to grow here, and what kind of workplace they’re trying to build on South Edgeware Road.

It would be easy to assume that a company the size of Royal Containers must have outgrown its origins somewhere along the way.
​
More facilities. More employees. More capital investment. More vertical integration. More customers whose names you definitely recognize when you see them on a store shelf. At some point, logic says, a business like that has to stop feeling personal.
Except… that’s not what happens here.

​Royal Containers was founded in 1980 by Ross Nelson, and the company still carries the imprint of those early, family-run days in a way that’s hard to miss once you start paying attention. The scale has changed dramatically. The mindset hasn’t. When Ross passed leadership to his daughter, Kim Nelson, that philosophy came with it — the belief that you can grow without losing your grip on what matters, that you can invest heavily and still treat people like people, and that relationships aren’t something you outgrow as you get bigger.

That throughline came up again and again in my conversation with Greg, even as we were discussing million-dollar equipment investments, acquisitions across Ontario, and the St. Thomas facility becoming the company's flagship operation. Greg would describe the expansion, then pause, circle back, and ground it in something very human. A handshake. A promise kept. A decision made because it was the right thing to do, not just the efficient one.

​Royal today operates across multiple sites, employs hundreds of people, and serves customers ranging from local manufacturers to global brands. And yet, the way Greg talks about the company still sounds a lot like someone describing a mom-and-pop shop — just one that happens to own a paper mill, invest continuously in cutting-edge technology, and produce packaging you’ve probably handled without realizing it.

That mentality shows up everywhere. In how customers are treated. In how employees are supported. In how acquisitions are handled, not as cost-cutting exercises but as moments where people need reassurance, clarity, and trust. Growth is clearly important here, but not at the expense of culture. Not at the expense of the community. And not at the expense of the people who make the boxes in the first place.

In a capitalist world, Royal Containers is thinking outside the box that society wants to stuff manufacturers.
It’s also part of why Royal’s move to St. Thomas didn’t feel like a corporate relocation so much as a long-term commitment. This wasn’t a short-term play. It was a decision to build something lasting, in a place that values the same things: relationships, accountability, and the idea that business should leave a community better than it found it.
And once you understand that history: Ross’s foundation, Kim’s leadership, and the values that have stayed stubbornly intact along the way, the rest of the story starts to make a lot more sense.
​
Including the boxes.

A company that chose the “middle lane,” on purposeGreg described Royal Containers as a company that has deliberately carved out a unique space in their industry. Not a tiny mom-and-pop operation, but not a faceless corporate giant either.
​
That “in-between” position matters more than you’d think. It’s what lets Royal Containers be an all-in-one solution provider, with the equipment, scale, and vertical integration you’d expect from a much larger organization, while still keeping a very human approach to business. The kind where a handshake still counts for something. Where you can tailor how customers order, whether they want a fully transparent online portal or would rather have a sales rep sit down with them face-to-face to build the order together. Where a Senior VP can walk the shop floor and say hello to a sea of smiling faces by name.
And yes, the “box world” has changed.

Royal started from a strong foundation in what Greg called the “brown box” side of the industry, the sturdy, practical shipping boxes that most of us only think about when we’re moving or ordering something heavy. But the St. Thomas facility was part of a bigger pivot into more product branding, higher-end printing, and more complex retail and display work.
So you still get the dependable boxes people need for shipping. You also get the beautiful, high-graphic packaging and displays you stop to admire in stores. Sometimes, without even realizing you’re admiring cardboard.

Why St. Thomas, and why it stuckRoyal Containers’ growth story includes acquisitions and expansion over decades, including a London-area operation (Morphy Containers) that Royal acquired in 2009, and larger strategic moves that followed.

Then came the need for space, modern equipment, and a long runway to grow. And this is where Greg gets very candid.

They were outgrowing their previous footprint. They were trying to expand. They were looking at a future where the business needed to scale. And in that moment, St. Thomas didn’t just have a building. St. Thomas had an attitude.

Greg talked about how quickly the move went from “are we really doing this?” to “how did we not do this sooner?” The difference, in his mind, was the sense of real partnership. The kind that feels pro-business in a grounded way, not at the expense of the community, or employees, or the environment.
​
That’s how the St. Thomas site became more than “a location.” It became the flagship.
And that’s not just local pride talking. It shows up in how they invest here. It shows up in the steady growth of the operation, the way they’ve continued to bring in new equipment and expand capabilities, and the way St. Thomas is now the place they’re proud to tour.

“Wait… you don’t cut down trees for this?”One of the most common misconceptions Greg still runs into is also one of the most important to clear up.

People hear “box making” and assume forests. But modern corrugated packaging is heavily tied to recycling systems. Greg pointed out that recycling, the blue box approach, and the demand for recovered fibre are deeply connected to this industry.
Royal Containers’ model includes a vertically integrated supply chain, including partnerships that link recycled corrugated material back into new containerboard, helping keep recycled resources in circulation.

There’s also a practical side to this that I think people appreciate once it’s explained. In a world that’s trying to move away from plastics in more and more applications, paper-based packaging is suddenly “caught up” to the moment. Customers want packaging that aligns with sustainability goals, and corrugated, done right, fits.
​
And Royal seems to take that seriously, not just as a marketing line. Greg even shared a small story about learning quickly that environmentally focused customers (think: the kind of brand that notices everything) expect the details to match the values. It’s not enough to say the product is sustainable. You have to live it consistently.

The part Greg cares about most: the people partSome interviews are full of growth stats and equipment specs. Those things came up, too, of course. But the moments that really stayed with me were the ones about culture, values, and how employees are treated when real life shows up.

Greg described Royal’s values in plain terms: respond, care, perform, lead. And he was very clear about one thing: the systems and procedures are nice, but they’re not the point. The team is the point.

He talked about the pride of building a workplace where people want to stay, and where the company doesn’t build success by racing to the cheapest option. Royal’s pitch is essentially, “We’ll make you a better box, we’ll stand behind it, and we’ll show up when you need us.” Sometimes that means being the calm, capable partner when a customer realizes late in the game that shipping is about to get messy.
​
And then he shared something that honestly stopped me for a second: the company’s commitment to stability and taking care of employees through difficult seasons of life. Not in a performative way. In a real, meaningful “go home, be with your family, we’ve got you” way.
It’s not the kind of story you expect to hear when you’re visiting a manufacturing facility. But it’s exactly the kind of story that explains why people talk about a workplace the way Royal’s team seems to.

Local impact that’s both big and oddly personalIt’s easy to say “local impact.” It’s harder to describe what that actually looks like in daily life.
Greg gave a few examples. One of my favourites was how quickly business relationships in St. Thomas can turn into actual community connections. A conversation at a hockey arena becomes, “Wait, you’re Royal? You’re on Edgeware?” and suddenly people are talking shop, talking community, talking about what it’s like to do business here.
​
He also shared a story about a nearby business owner who showed up early, not exactly thrilled, because of some preexisting frustration in the industrial community. That interaction could have stayed tense. Instead, it became the start of a long-term relationship. A deliberate decision to do things differently. To make it right, and to keep it local whenever possible.

That’s what “embedded in the community” looks like. Not a ribbon-cutting photo. More like a knock on the door, an honest conversation, and then years of doing what you said you’d do.

The “you’ve definitely seen our work” listBy the end of the conversation, I was laughing because Greg kept naming products and brands in a way that made it feel like Royal Containers is hiding in plain sight.

Pet retail displays. Craft beer flats. E-commerce packaging. High-graphic shelf-ready pieces. The kinds of things you’ve held in your hands without thinking twice. And now you’ll probably start thinking twice.

A St. Thomas success story that’s still unfoldingRoyal Containers came to St. Thomas with a vision and a willingness to invest. They found the right building, the right partners, and a community that understood what they were trying to do.

And they’re still doing it.

They’re growing. They’re investing in capability and capacity. They’re building a flagship operation here. They’re proving that advanced manufacturing can be clean, modern, and genuinely people-first.

If you’ve driven by the facility and wondered what happens inside, the answer is: a lot more than you think. And maybe, if you’re anything like me, you’ll start noticing the boxes around you a little differently now.

Because they’re not just boxes.

They’re part of how St. Thomas makes things happen.

Why this story belongs here, and why I keep coming back to it
​St. Thomas has a habit of telling certain stories so often that they start to feel like the whole story. “Railway City” is the obvious one. And don’t get me wrong, I love that piece of our identity. But every so often, it’s worth slowing down and asking: who else built a life here when the odds were stacked so high it’s hard to imagine? [1]
​
When our team at St. Thomas Economic Development talks about opportunity, we usually mean it in today’s language: jobs, investment, growth, talent. But there’s an older, more personal definition of opportunity, too. The chance to arrive somewhere and be allowed to stay. To work. To own something. To belong, perhaps gradually, and not without friction. Lloyd Graves’ story sits right in that space, local, documented, and (to me, anyway) quietly astonishing. [2]
​

Starting over in a place that lets you stay
​Once in St. Thomas, Lloyd found work with a local merchant, Thomas Lindop, as a teamster, a working role that would have meant long days, physical effort, and a steady reliability that people noticed. It’s not glamorous. But that’s sort of the point. This is what “building a life” looked like. [4]

Over time, he saved enough to buy a small farm, described as three or four acres, on the second concession of Malahide Township[5], and one account notes he paid for it within two years. That detail matters. Land ownership wasn’t just economic security; for someone who had been treated as property, it was also a public contradiction of slavery’s logic. I’m saying that carefully, because it’s easy to romanticize. Still, the pattern is there: work, savings, land, permanence. [1]

In 1868, Lloyd married Amanda Irons (described as the daughter of a fugitive slave). They raised a large family, twelve children, and later moved their small house into the village of Mount Salem[6], eventually adding onto it. Records and later write-ups emphasize Lloyd’s gardening skill and the fact that he exhibited produce at surrounding fall fairs, again, an everyday kind of contribution, but one that places him plainly inside community life, not on its margins. [7]

One small wrinkle I can’t resist mentioning (and it’s the historian in me, not the marketer): even the photographs tied to this story come with complications. The Huron Heritage Anti-Slavery Project notes that one museum tentatively identified a well-known image as another couple. In contrast, Elgin County Museum[8] and Elgin County Archives[9] have identified the couple as Lloyd and Amanda Graves. It’s a reminder that local history is sometimes a puzzle with a few missing pieces. The story still stands, but it also stays honest. [1]
​

The Talbot Street moment that still feels unreal
Here’s the part that reads almost like fiction, except it’s traceable through historical reporting and later scholarship. In 1859, five years after Lloyd arrived, he and George Hamilton were confronted on Talbot Street[10], after a series of letters (linked to Hamilton and an associate, B. Stewart) were sent to Hamilton’s former enslaver, John Barton, requesting money to return to Kentucky. Barton sent thirty dollars, grew suspicious, and dispatched a Mr. Williams to investigate. [11]

In that exchange, Lloyd appears almost “in passing,” and yet he’s pulled into the consequences. When confronted, Lloyd was offered a horse and bridle, an inducement to return, and he refused. It’s one sentence in the record, but it implies a lot: refusing an enslaver, in public, in town. Not running. Not bargaining. Just refusing. [1]
​
I think that’s the part I can’t shake. Not because it’s dramatic (although it is), but because it’s a real-world snapshot of what St. Thomas represented in that moment: a place where freedom could be claimed, and, crucially, held. [11]

It feels very timely.

Why Black History Month changes what we notice in our own backyard
Black History Month can sometimes feel like it’s “about elsewhere”, bigger cities, national figures, distant headlines. But one of its best functions, honestly, is local. It pushes communities like ours to seek the full record, not just the familiar one. Lloyd Graves’ life shows how Black history is also municipal history: work histories, property histories, family histories, school and church histories. [12]

And there’s an economic development lesson here that’s almost too straightforward to say out loud: welcoming people is not just a moral position. It becomes a community asset over time. Lloyd arrived with little, built stability through labour and land, contributed to local fairs and community institutions, and, according to later accounts, earned a reputation for being respected in the area. Those are the building blocks of a thriving place, then and now. [12]

So during Black History Month, telling stories like this doesn’t just “add diversity” to our local narrative. It strengthens local identity by making it more accurate. And, maybe more importantly, it reminds us that civic values, fairness, belonging, and opportunity, aren’t abstract slogans.

​They’re choices communities make, and then live with, for generations. [1]

Celebrate Locally
As we close, it’s worth remembering that Black history is not confined to a single month on the calendar. Each February, communities across Canada mark Black History Month by celebrating the legacy and contributions of Black Canadians in every sector, in every generation.

The 2026 theme, “30 Years of Black History Month: Honouring Black Brilliance Across Generations — From Nation Builders to Tomorrow’s Visionaries,” invites us to look both backward and forward. It recognizes the courage and determination of those who fought for civil rights, advanced social justice, and helped shape the cultural and political fabric of this country. It also shines a light on emerging leaders, innovators, artists, entrepreneurs, and changemakers who are redefining excellence today — and building what comes next.

Here in St. Thomas, that recognition can be tangible. It can look like showing up for local events. It can mean choosing to shop with and support Black-owned businesses. It can be as simple as listening, learning, and sharing stories that broaden our understanding of the community we’re proud to call home.

Black history is Canadian history. And in a city that celebrates its people and possibilities, we encourage you to seek out opportunities to learn, connect, and support — not just this month, but all year long.

Bibliography
​Dayna Vreman, “Lloyd and Amanda Graves: A Chapter in Ontario’s Black History,” Huron Heritage Anti-Slavery Project[13]. [1]
“Lloyd Graves,” On This Spot[14] (Southwest Ontario’s Black History project page). [15]

Bruce C. Johnson Jr., “St. Thomas Weekly Dispatch – Elgin County Branch, Ontario Genealogical Society” (index entry referencing “Colored Rascality,” Oct. 27, 1859). [16]

“Elgin County Branch, Ontario Genealogical Society – Malahide Families Concession Four” (transcription and contextual notes referencing Aylmer Express items and obituary text). [17]

[1] [2] [3] [5] [6] [10] [11] [12] [13]
Lloyd and Amanda Graves: A Chapter in Ontario’s Black History | Antislavery connections
https://www.huronresearch.ca/antislavery/antislavery-in-small-things-project/2020-21-projects/lloyd-and-amanda-graves-a-chapter-in-ontarios-black-history/
[4] [7] [8] [14] [15] Lloyd Graves | On This Spot
https://onthisspot.ca/regional/swoblackhistory/stories/lloydgraveshouse
[9] [16] St. Thomas Weekly Dispatch – Elgin County Branch, Ontario Genealogical Society
https://elgin.ogs.on.ca/ancestor-indexes/newspaper-indexes/st-thomas-weekly-dispatch/
[17] Malahide Families Concession Four
https://elgin.ogs.on.ca/ancestor-indexes/online-publications/malahide-families-concession-four/?utm_source=chatgpt.com

We are seated at an important time to discuss the opportunities that can arise from hard times. Hard times create problems that need solving, and those who step into the gap to fill them are the ones who will be celebrating milestones 10, 15, and 25 years down the road.  DMAC Automation crossed that 15-year milestone in 2024.

I recently caught up with DMAC Owner and President, Dave Minor, to learn more about the company, and there’s a moment in our conversation where he casually explains what “DMAC” means, and it honestly made me laugh a little—because it’s both completely practical and kind of perfect.
 
It’s not a family name. It’s not a trendy “we mashed a few letters together and hoped for the best” situation. It’s literally a sentence that turned into a company name.
 
Design. Manufacture. Assemble. Control. Commission. Automation.

Dave wrote out what the business would do (because the bank wanted to know, as banks do), turned it into an acronym, and—almost accidentally—ended up with the brand. “Commission” was the last piece added, he told me, because it’s a real part of what they do in the field. And now, years later, the name still reads like a simple promise: this is what we do. End of story.
​
And the funny part is… that’s pretty much the whole vibe at DMAC Automation.

Quietly impressive. Very busy. Not flashy about it.
 
DMAC Automation is based right here in St. Thomas and if you haven’t heard of them or realized they were located in #stthomasproud country, you’re probably not alone. Dave even mentioned that during a meeting with a customer he was once asked where the business was located. Dave pointed out the window and said, “two blocks that way, you can see our roof from here”. Two blocks away. (That’s the kind of “hidden in plain sight” story that feels very St. Thomas.)
 
But make no mistake: DMAC’s reach is not small-town.
 
They design and build custom automation systems used in manufacturing environments that span industries—from automotive and warehousing to food and beverage, and even military-related work.
 
That can be hard to picture if you don’t work in the automation world. It’s not like you drive past a storefront and think, Ah yes, robotic palletizers and custom vision inspection systems. So, let’s put it in plain terms:
DMAC builds the machines and systems that help manufacturers work faster, work safer, and reduce costly inefficiencies—often by taking the repetitive, heavy, or high-risk parts of a job and giving that task to equipment designed specifically for that environment.
 
And they don’t do it with canned solutions.
 
They’re a custom shop. Every project is its own puzzle. 

​The recession-era origin story (that somehow turned into stability)
 
DMAC was born in 2009, in the shadow of a recession, after the company Dave worked for decided to exit automation and ultimately shut down. Dave was in management. He knew the contracts, the customers, the reality behind the speeches. And he made a decision quickly: if the work was going to be dropped, he’d pick it up—with the same people and the same standards.
 
He set the company up in 11 days. Which sounds slightly unhinged (in the determined way, not the chaotic way). But it worked.
 
DMAC started with seven people, and today they’re close to 30. And here’s the thing Dave is clearly proud of—maybe the thing he’s proudest of:
 
In 16 years, they’ve had no layoffs. Not through downturns. Not through COVID. None. Instead, they’ve built a “core team” approach: keep a stable core group, scale up with contractors and partners when needed, and scale back down without sacrificing the people who make the company what it is.
 
That choice is not the most common one. Dave knows it. He talked openly about the pressure businesses feel to constantly expand—bigger building, bigger headcount, bigger everything. But he’s cautious about what growth costs.
 
He even has a term for it: the “business bobblehead”—when management grows faster than the team doing the actual work, and the whole organization starts to feel top-heavy and weirdly disconnected.
 
He’s not interested in that. Not here.
 
“No cowboys.” The culture does the filtering.
 
If you ask Dave what makes DMAC special, he’ll talk about problem-solving. He’ll talk about creativity. He’ll talk about the satisfaction of building a custom solution that actually works.
But he always comes back to one thing: culture.
 
He described it as “thick,” which is such a specific word, and also… accurate? You know what he means right away. It’s not a culture that lives on posters. It’s the kind you can feel when you walk in.
 
DMAC hires people who like variety, who want to learn, who don’t need to be the loudest person in the room to be valuable. Dave put it bluntly: they don’t have “cowboys.” You know the type he means immediately. Someone who’s not about the team. Someone who’s loudly for themselves, unpredictable, and risky.
 
There was also something I found quietly moving: Dave’s biggest fear as an employer is losing a great employee because of a bad one. He doesn’t treat that as normal collateral damage. He treats it as preventable.
 
That’s not a metric you’ll find in an annual report, but it’s a real leadership tell.

​Automation doesn’t “take jobs.” It changes them.
One of the most interesting parts of our conversation was Dave’s take on a common fear: automation removes jobs.
 
His argument is more nuanced than a simple yes/no.
 
In many cases, he explained, automation removes the most physically punishing parts of a role—and creates space to retrain workers into higher-skill positions: operating, maintaining, troubleshooting, inspecting quality, managing throughput. It shifts people from repetitive labour into roles that require technical ability and decision-making.
He shared an example that stuck with me: a system designed to move heavy items that used to be handled manually. The risk of injury was real. The physical strain was constant. Automation wasn’t just about productivity—it was about safety, and about long-term sustainability for the workforce.
 
And honestly, that framing matters. Especially now, when labour shortages and retention challenges are very real for manufacturers across Ontario.
 
Not just automotive. Sometimes it’s… cherries.
 
Here’s where DMAC gets unexpectedly fun.
Dave shared about a robot installed in a barn in Simcoe—a giant industrial robot that picks up multiple pails of cherries (heavy ones, around 35 pounds each) and stacks them efficiently. The reason wasn’t flashy innovation for the sake of it. It was practical:

• repetitive strain injuries
• difficulty finding people willing to do that physically demanding seasonal work
• the need to run nearly nonstop during a short harvest window

 
So the robot does the heavy lifting, and the people shift into operating and managing the line instead.
 
And I know this is a small detail, but it’s the kind that makes automation click for people. It’s not abstract. It’s not “robots are coming.” It’s: this prevents injuries, keeps production moving, and helps a local agricultural operation survive a short season.
 
That’s it. That’s the point.

But you better believe I'd like to see that cherry-moving robot in action.

​What DMAC actually does (in human language)
 
If you want the official breakdown, DMAC describes itself as a custom automation shop focused on improving how customers work—supporting everything from design to installation and training. They offer:

• needs analysis and project management (same people start and finish projects)
• mechanical design, prototypes, and simulation work
• electrical and controls work
• in-house testing and run-offs
• onsite installation, startup, and training
• repairs and servicing—including servicing competitors’ equipment (which is a quietly confident thing to say)

Their solutions range from robotic automation and material handling to vision inspection, welding systems, and food/beverage conveyor and palletizing systems.
 
That’s a lot. And it’s why people outside the industry often don’t realize what’s happening inside that building tucked in on Duckworth.
 
Growing talent, locally (and watching students’ eyes pop out)
 
Dave also talked about something that matters deeply in a growing manufacturing community: talent pipelines.
 
DMAC supports co-op placements, and he described the first-day shop walk as one of his favourite moments because students see the robots up close, and their understanding of “a job in skilled trades or automation” shifts in about 30 seconds.
 
Their team includes a range of trades, millwrights, electricians, controls specialists, and Dave’s advice to young people was refreshingly simple: follow your interest. Trades. Tech courses. Robotics teams. Coding (not just for gaming—PLC programming and industrial automation need coders too). The common thread is curiosity and comfort with building things that move, solve, lift, sort, inspect, or assemble.
 
And if you’ve ever wished students could see more of what’s available in their own community before they make big career decisions… same. I think about that a lot, actually.

A St. Thomas company, with a ripple effect

One of the best parts of DMAC’s story is its intentional localism.
 
Dave talked about working with nearby machine shops and suppliers, keeping work local first whenever possible, then expanding outward only as needed. DMAC even outsources some manufacturing to local businesses as part of their flexible model. That’s not just good community spirit. It’s smart business. It builds resilience. It creates a network where companies help each other stay steady.
 
And that might be the most St. Thomas detail of all: the idea that you don’t win by standing alone, you win by building a strong circle around you.

This team doesn't just build automations, it builds community. Reinforced through sponsorships and community partnerships. The DMAC is the reigning 2025 winner of the best themed float at the St. Thomas Optimist Santa Claus Parade. They mean business when it comes to community support and building a culture of care.
 
The takeaway (and it’s not just “robots are cool”)
 
Yes, robots are cool. Very cool.
 
But what I’ll remember most about this conversation is Dave’s pride in building something steady: a company that started in a recession, grew carefully, avoided layoffs, protects its culture, and solves real-world problems in ways most of us never get to see.
 
DMAC is one of those businesses that makes you pause and think, We have more going on here than people realize. And maybe that’s the point of telling stories like this—because in a community growing as quickly as St. Thomas is, we don’t want the long-standing builders to get lost in the shuffle.
 
Not when they’ve been quietly shaping the future from the inside out.
​
If you’d like to learn more about DMAC Automation or connect with their team, you can find them at 10 Duckworth Ave., St. Thomas, or explore their services and solutions online. 

After opening the doors to the human side of Animal Services in Part One—where compassion, teamwork, and community connection shape every day at the shelter—it’s time to look ahead to the physical future of that work. The current facility has served its purpose well beyond its years, but as the city continues to grow, so too must the space that supports its animals and the people who care for them. In this next chapter, we’ll explore the plans, challenges, and community efforts behind the construction of St. Thomas’s new animal shelter—a long-awaited project built on the same heart and dedication that drive the team inside it.

Construction Plans and Project Details

​The official groundbreaking for the new St. Thomas Animal Shelter took place on March 26, 2025 — a day many in the community had been waiting for. The goal is to complete the build by the end of December, so that 2026 begins with a new home for local animals in need.

Planning the facility has been a labour of love — and a lesson in patience. “We wanted to avoid any potential design flaws that could cause problems down the road,” explains Laura. “So last spring, Mike and I toured several shelters across Southwestern Ontario. Many of these organizations had just completed or were in the middle of their own construction projects, and they were generous in sharing what worked — and what didn’t.”
Those site visits inspired several key adjustments before final blueprints were approved, ensuring that the St. Thomas facility will be both efficient and humane in every detail.
​
Funding, of course, was another challenge. The rising cost of construction has been a significant hurdle, but years of advocacy and the community’s deep commitment to animal welfare made all the difference. “We’ve been incredibly fortunate to receive several large donations,” Laura says. “Every fundraiser, every contribution has brought us closer to the finish line. This truly is a victory shared by the whole community.”

​Click here to make a donation today.

Community Involvement

The shelter’s success has always relied on community support, and that remains true today. Attending fundraisers, following the shelter’s updates on Facebook, and helping spread the word online all make a real impact.
Volunteer help is also essential. The team is especially seeking people experienced with large-breed dogs, as many of the shelter’s canine guests need training, walking, and patient socialization. “Volunteer dog trainers are a game-changer,” Mike says.
​
When it comes to donations, the biggest ongoing need is towels and linens. These items see constant use — and constant wear. Enrichment toys are also always welcome: sturdy chew toys for dogs and scratching posts for cats. You can also support the shelter directly through their Amazon Wish List

Volunteer and Fostering Programs

The current shelter, built decades ago, is simply too small to meet the needs of a growing city. With limited space, the team often relies on partnerships with local rescues to respond quickly to emergencies. When animals require special attention — such as medical care or a quiet environment away from larger dogs — foster homes become essential.

“We don’t manage foster homes directly,” explains Laura, “but we work closely with fantastic local rescues like Animal Aide, Myrtle Animal Rescue & Sanctuary, and Helping Paws. They help give our most vulnerable animals the time and care they need.”

Another important initiative is the community cat program, which focuses on feral cats — the truly wild ones born and raised outdoors without human contact. Volunteers humanely trap these cats, spay or neuter them, provide vaccinations, and then return them to their territories once they’ve recovered. A small “tipped” ear marks them as treated, helping volunteers identify them in the future.

Those interested in volunteering with the shelter can submit an application.

Looking Ahead
The new shelter isn’t just a building — it’s a foundation for the next decade of animal welfare in St. Thomas. With expanded space and improved facilities, the team will finally be able to accommodate special cases, such as whelping mothers, and better separate species to avoid cross-contamination risks.
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“Our work has grown beyond just cats and dogs,” Mike says. “We’re now responding to more wildlife calls — raccoons, skunks, even injured turtles crossing roads during nesting season. The new shelter will allow us to do this safely and effectively.”

Long-term goals also include exploring space to temporarily house small pets like rabbits, hamsters, and rats — an important step in supporting all members of the community who find themselves needing help.
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As St. Thomas continues to grow, so too does the city’s heart for its animals. The new shelter stands as a testament to what’s possible when compassion, collaboration, and community come together — brick by brick, paw by paw.

As a final note, we want to share the story of Black Panther — the cat, not the Marvel hero. It's a sad story, but one that connected the three people in a way that still resonates today. 

A few days later, we learned the cat's name was Black Panther — and that while he belonged to someone else, he was very loved by Sarah Noble, a fellow City employee at St. Thomas Economic Development. When we found out Sarah and her husband, Parker, were coming to identify him, Mike and I did everything we could to give them a small measure of comfort. We cleaned him gently, placed him on a blanket as if he were peacefully sleeping, and made an ink paw print for them as a keepsake. That simple act became a ritual for us: whenever a pet passes at the shelter, we play Fleetwood Mac, say a small prayer, and create a paw print for the owner or our shelter's wall of honour.
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When Sarah and Parker arrived, the four of us shared a moment that was heavy with sadness but filled with care — the kind of moment that forges something lasting. From that day on, our professional partnership deepened into a genuine friendship.
As touching as this story is, it carries an important reminder: please, keep your cats indoors. We see far too many hit by cars each year, and it's heartbreaking for everyone involved.

It was a Saturday evening, which meant local vet clinics were closed. The nearest open animal hospital was the Emergency Veterinary Clinic in Waterloo—an hour and a half away. So, the poor guy went for a ride with me. The staff there were terrific. They examined him quickly and, with compassion, made the decision to end his suffering. I stayed with him and held him gently as he passed.

When neighbours who kept an eye out for this neighbourhood cat hadn't seen him for a few days, they reached out with concern. They were clearly devastated to learn he had passed. Laura and I made an ink paw print as a keepsake to honour this brave boy and added another to our shelter's wall of remembrance for the animals we couldn't save.
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For anyone who's read this far, I wish I could say Black Panther's story was unique—but it isn't. Too many cats are hit by cars each year. Many well-meaning owners still believe it's fine to let their cats roam, but it so often ends in tragedy. It's something our team never truly gets used to.

Please, keep your cats indoors, and make sure your pets—cats and dogs alike—are microchipped so we can reach you in an emergency. And don't forget to spay and neuter. It's one of the simplest ways to protect the animals we love.

 What to Expect at Nostalgia Nights
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• Classic Cars Galore: Immerse yourself in a display of 100s of vintage and classic beauties—from 1950s fins to muscle cars of the 60s and 70s and beyond. Each vehicle has a story to tell and is part of a history spanning over 100 years of automotive innovation.
• Live Entertainment: Cruise-worthy rhythms fill the air! Everything from rock' n' roll classic tributes to contemporary tunes across three entertainment zones. Bring your dancing shoes!
• Local Eats: Enjoy food pop-ups and don't-miss local favourites throughout the event footprint at entertainment zones and nearby patios, just a short stroll away.
• Family Fun Rain or Shine: Bring the whole family to stroll the strip! Pop into local shops, grab a bite, and soak up the best of summer in St. Thomas.
• Local Shopping: Browse the local boutiques and unique shops in Downtown St. Thomas. These businesses pour so much into making our Downtown community vibrant! Discover your new favourite stop! From record shops to furniture finds - it's here to enjoy!
• Free Train Rides: Hourly sightseeing trains leave from the L&PS Station (Railway City Tourism) from 4 PM - 8 PM with the Port Stanley Terminal Rail. Seats* are limited, and tickets are required for boarding. Ticket pick-up begins at noon at 605 Talbot St.

*strollers and wagons cannot be accommodated on the train. Stoller "parking" at the station is available but limited.