Station House Hotel ~ Queen Street
In the early days horses could be tethered to the veranda while meals for 200 people at 25 cents each were served inside. The first owner was John Higgins whose wife Harriet was George Kennedy’s daughter but Harry Wright took over in 1913. In a peculiar Georgetown tradition 50 years later, the hotel would still be referred to as Wright’s although it was also known as the Station House.
It opened in 1855, two years after the railway first arrived in town, and 12 years before Confederation. It was conveniently located so that each of the Grand Trunk’s 18 daily trains discharged their passengers within a hundred yards its front doors.
In a rite of passage, many a “Boomer” surreptitiously enjoyed their first beer there served by Glen Hillock, the impossibly agile bartender, waiter and (when necessary) bouncer. He could single-handedly take orders, pour draft and serve both sides of a crowded house simultaneously.
Often students who had left for university would return during holidays to renew old friendships and share new experiences. But, it was also at the round table in the men’s room where some of us never let our schooling interfere with our education. But the hotel’s stock-in-trade was the working man who often made it his first stop after a tough shift at the mill.
It wasn’t fancy, although Diane Hillock did a wonderful job sprucing it up in the 1960s. The well-stocked, if somewhat rickety, bar continued to slake the thirst of locals until 2003. It was where many would meet their future spouses, listening to Station House— naturally.
It opened in 1855, two years after the railway first arrived in town, and 12 years before Confederation. It was conveniently located so that each of the Grand Trunk’s 18 daily trains discharged their passengers within a hundred yards its front doors.
In a rite of passage, many a “Boomer” surreptitiously enjoyed their first beer there served by Glen Hillock, the impossibly agile bartender, waiter and (when necessary) bouncer. He could single-handedly take orders, pour draft and serve both sides of a crowded house simultaneously.
Often students who had left for university would return during holidays to renew old friendships and share new experiences. But, it was also at the round table in the men’s room where some of us never let our schooling interfere with our education. But the hotel’s stock-in-trade was the working man who often made it his first stop after a tough shift at the mill.
It wasn’t fancy, although Diane Hillock did a wonderful job sprucing it up in the 1960s. The well-stocked, if somewhat rickety, bar continued to slake the thirst of locals until 2003. It was where many would meet their future spouses, listening to Station House— naturally.