“The Metro Toronto Zoo is more than a zoo. It is a biological park, a major demonstration of man’s need to better understand his responsibility for the safeguarding and preservation of endangered animal and plant species. Plan to spend the day and longer. Return often. So much to see, to learn, and to enjoy.” — brochure prepared for the Metro Toronto Zoo, 1974
The opening of the Metro Toronto Zoo 50 years ago this month was full of excitement and concern — excitement because the region had another cultural landmark along the lines of the Ontario Science Centre and Ontario Place that it could point to with pride, and concern because of questions about everything from admission cost to inadequate design features to bad behaviour from its early patrons.
Riverdale Zoo had existed since the 1880s, but after nearly a century of operation, the tiny, aging space was frequently described in unflattering ways. Zoologist Nigel Sitwell called it a “pathetic disgrace,” while Canadian Architect magazine referred to it as “seedy and very sad.” People had been suggesting a replacement as far back as the 1920s, but in nearly every instance, NIMBYs had successfully pushed back.
With encouragement from Metro council, the Metropolitan Toronto Zoological Society was formed in 1966. A feasibility study by architect Raymond Moriyama approved by Metro council in 1968 envisioned a zoo located in Scarborough’s Rouge Valley. The goal, Moriyama noted in Canadian Architect, was to create a zoo of “international significance” that linked animals, humans, and the environment. Johnson Sustronk Weinstein + Associates Limited was commissioned to create and execute the master plan, which stated that “animals were to be grouped by their native continents and visitors brought as close to them as possible with a minimum awareness of barriers or cages” and “the outstanding landscape of the Rouge River site was to dominate the displays and buildings were to be integrated into the natural terrain.” In May 1970, council gave final approval to build the zoo.
Sketch of proposed zoo that would have been built by present-day Don Valley Golf Course site at Yonge Street and Highway 401. (Globe and Mail, April 11, 1953)
“To our knowledge,” the master plan observed, “no zoo has been designed with both continental pavilions as well as continental paddock areas. This is of great importance for the operation of a winter zoo. Since each pavilion contains a composite of birds, animals, fish, and reptiles, it can completely represent the continent when the weather is bad and people prefer to stay indoors.” The pavilions were designed to employ “three exciting techniques”: viewing windows through which floodlit animal paddocks could be seen at night; unobtrusive wire screens to hold in animals; and thematic displays and teaching areas where, “without forcing visitors to learn, there is always some film or graphic material close at hand to satisfy their curiosity.”
Gunter Voss was appointed the zoo’s director. He had run the Assiniboine Park Zoo in Winnipeg since 1959 and served as the president of the American Association of Zoological Parks and Aquariums. “Gentlemen,” he told the zoo’s planning team, “you have a very nice plan for a zoo here, but we are going to have to make a lot of changes.” He encouraged open designs to bring people and animals closer together. He participated in negotiations with the Chinese government to secure a panda bear (a goal the zoo would not achieve until the 1980s). Voss often talked to the media about the complex processes involved in securing zoo animals, including dealing with countries with restrictive export policies and trying to negotiate highway underpasses while transporting a giraffe. When asked what creature would create the most headaches in terms of accommodation, treatment, and behaviour, Voss joked it was “a very strange species known as homo sapiens.”
Drawing of the animal domain from the 1969 Master Plan for the zoo.
“We’re not Disneyland,” he observed in a 1972 interview with the Globe and Mail. “We’re not a midway … A zoo is ideally an island of sanity in this crazy world.”
A “Zoo Fund” campaign co-chaired by former Ontario premier John Robarts and brokerage executive William B. Macdonald was launched to raise $6 million to purchase animals. Major donors included Imperial Oil (polar-bear exhibit), the Atkinson Foundation (intensive-care unit), and John David Eaton (North American Flight Cage). Another campaign, Project Noah, encouraged Metro students to raise $600,000 and even had its own jingle:
We’ve got to do what Noah said
We’re gonna keep the animals fed
They’ll be healthy and happy
And they’ll be on view
At the Metro Toronto Zoo
More than 600 schools participated in fundraising, bringing in $257,000.
Fundraising skating party at Nathan Phillips Square. (Toronto Star, January 22, 1973)
But fundraising was failing to meet its target: corporations were more familiar with general fundraising campaigns like the United Appeal (now the United Way), and the recent federal election created a distraction. PR efforts were ramped up in January 1973 with Metro Toronto’s declaration of Zoo Week. It launched with an animal-costume skating party in Nathan Phillips Square — the best-costume winner would have their name given to a llama. Eaton’s and Simpsons showed displays about the zoo, Towers discount department stores sold full-colour animal posters, and visitors to the Royal York Hotel could toss donations into a fake giraffe placed in the lobby. A “Walk for the Animals” held in June 1973 drew up to 50,000 people who trekked one of two 24-kilometre routes starting from either High Park or Scarborough to city hall. These efforts helped, but by the end of the year, the fund was still 14 per cent short of its goal.
The first public preview in September 1973 produced mixed reactions among the 4,000 attendees. No animals were yet on display. Some who hadn’t read the details were shocked to discover that the zoo wasn’t finished yet. A few had believed they were going to African Lion Safari.
There was plenty of public outrage when admission prices were revealed in February 1974. The MTZS proposed charging $2.50 for adults (a dollar higher than the CNE or Ontario Place), $1 for teens, and 25 cents for children. Metro Toronto chairman Paul Godfrey thought the adult charge was “kind of steep,” while Scarborough mayor Paul Cosgrove felt there was too much of a price jump when a kid turned 12. While zoo officials argued that these prices were comparable to those charged elsewhere, critics stressed that this was an institution funded by the public. Low-income residents who lived near the free Riverdale Zoo (which would soon close, then reopen as Riverdale Farm in 1978) said the price structure and associated costs such as TTC fare would rule out family trips. Two pre-teen sisters in Pickering started a petition to lower admission fees, feeling let down after the fundraising efforts students had made. The zoo’s compromise was to introduce a $5 family fare.
Image of planned land use from the 1969 Master Plan for the zoo.
Although work was ongoing, the zoo held a two-week preview before its official opening on August 15. Preview tickets were sent to Metro schoolchildren who had helped with fundraising efforts. As ticketholders could bring one adult, some people tried to “borrow” children to get in. Some zoo officials hoped that not all ticket holders would show up, as the site was still taking shape. “We never said the zoo would be ready on August 15,” development director Walter Gray told the TorontoStar. “People are going to have to put with some inconvenience until the site is opened to the general public.” (Meadowvale Road was still being widened to provide zoo access, and the areas for some animals, such as lions and polar bears, weren’t yet ready for prime time.)
Around 6,000 people turned up on August 1, the first preview day. Children were enthusiastic, but some of the animals weren’t — especially Cecilia the giraffe and the zebras, who required staff encouragement to show themselves to the public. A lack of signage meant many attendees got lost or misidentified animals. Communication surrounding the nature of the preview confused the public, as articles about the zoo published in the United States prompted some travellers from nearby states to come, only to be turned away. Prior to the grand opening, the zoo decided to shelve the main lion display, as it had discovered the lions could jump over the protective moat, posing a threat to visitors. A closure initially planned for two weeks would last nearly two years.
Entrance, Metro Toronto Zoo, 1975. (Ellis Wiley/City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 124, File 4, Item 1)
Although the zoo had been expecting 50,000 visitors on day one, only around 8,500 turned up — many thought a three-week long TTC strike was to blame. Those who paid admission found plenty to complain about: barriers were too high for some children to see over, for example, and there was no transportation system for those who couldn’t walk pathways that stretched for kilometres (a train system under construction would open as the Domain Ride in 1976).
The design flaws that plagued the lion display became evident in other exhibit areas, too. During the first week, 20 baboons jumped over a 10-foot wall surrounding their enclosure (staff had, in fact, warned administrators that the animals could jump at least 13 feet into the air). A gibbon swung around the rafters of the Indo-Malayan Pavilion for several hours. Voss tried to reassure the public that many of the enclosures were experiments “to see how far we can go with the open concept idea.”
Then there was the behaviour of visitors. Animals were constantly harassed. The Australian walkthrough had to be temporarily closed because children were chasing the wallabies. Somebody tossed armadillos and turtles into a crocodile pit, killing three of the animals. Teens climbed into the rhinoceros areas, running the risk of a trampling. Barely supervised groups of middle- and high-school students threw stones at the alligators and stole parts from A/V projectors. Students Grade 7 and up required only teachers to accompany them on school visits, while younger kids had to be accompanied by at least one additional adult per 10 children. “We thought the older ones would not need as much supervision,” Gray told the Globe and Mail. “Now we’re having second thoughts.”
Alligator, Metro Toronto Zoo, 1975. (Ellis Wiley/City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 124, File 4, Item 2)
Gray was especially angered by a Scarborough elementary teacher who dropped his class off around lunch, told them to stay out of trouble, and promised to meet back up with them at 2 p.m. Gray found out and quickly phoned the school — he was getting used to contacting principals. Grade 8 students at John Buchan Senior Public School in Scarborough offered solutions to the rowdy behaviour of their peers, even if some of their suggestions, such as using BB guns with silencers on anyone caught in the rhino pen, were extreme.
Within two weeks of the official opening, the Toronto Star reported dissention and communication breakdowns between Voss, the board, and the architectural team. Voss reiterated that the exhibits were intended to be experimental, noting that “we knew all along that we would have to observe the conduct of the animals and the visitors carefully and that some changes would have to be made.” Voss claimed he had asked for a three- to-five-month trial period before the public opening but that the MTZS had been anxious to open as soon as possible.
Photo from the August 5, 1974, edition of the Toronto Star.
A management review prepared by the MTZS in October 1974 blamed the revenue shortfall on several factors, including the two-week preview period, the introduction of the family rate, the decision to distribute 700,000 free tickets to students, the transit strike, road construction, and lousy weather, especially during holiday weekends. Then there were the inappropriate enclosures, exhibits that weren’t ready to house animals yet, and animals that were stuck in federal quarantine: “The end result has been the appearance of an unfinished Zoo and a reduced visitor viewing experience.” Remedial actions included cutting staff, discontinuing shuttle-bus service from outer parking lots other than on holidays, replacing safety guards and guides with signage, retuning rental vehicles, and banning overtime. The following month, Metro council agreed to cover the zoo’s $914,000 operating deficit.
The problems continued into the new year. Godfrey raised the possibility that Metro council might not approve the zoo’s next budget. Animal curator Lawrence Cahill admitted that his staff found their work nightmarish and were having to deal with new problems, such as improperly heated animal enclosures. Pathways didn’t stand up to user wear. Visitors felt they weren’t getting their money’s worth, as not enough animals were on display. Many animals intended for the zoo were still being housed at other sites around the GTA, waiting for their permanent homes to be finished.
Children at Metro Toronto Zoo, 1975. (Ellis Wiley/City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 124, File 4, Item 14)
Board members were fed up and looked to Voss as a scapegoat for design and customer-experience problems. Voss feared his career was in ruins. He took a family trip to Spain in January 1975 — meaning he didn’t have a chance to plead his case at a MTZS meeting held to decide his fate.
The zoo went ahead and fired him by a 20-3 vote, offering him a six-month position as a “special assistant.” Among those who demanded that Voss should still be heard was North York mayor Mel Lastman, who said, “It’s not justice, it’s not proper.” Voss’s lawyer revealed that the MTZS had rejected an offer submitted a month earlier that would have seen Voss quietly leave his post. Negotiations had been ongoing since October, but, the lawyer believed, it clearly wanted to turn his client into a scapegoat.
Voss likely felt some satisfaction when a new zoo board was elected in May 1975. Nearly all the key figures of the old board, including a former MTZS chair, were defeated. Most of the new board belonged to a group of Voss supporters, Friends of the Zoo, and Voss won one of the new seats. His replacement as zoo director, Phillip Ogilvie, was a longtime ally.
By 1976, many of the animals had settled into their permanent homes, the train ride was up and running, and things generally seemed to be going better for the zoo. There were still complaints about the admission cost, especially from Metro councillors. But a telephone survey of Metro Toronto residents in 1976 found that, while “teenagers are least likely to acknowledge that a zoo is important,” respondents who had visited the zoo were highly satisfied with its cleanliness, design, and variety of animals. “The new zoo ranks highly as something Torontonians feel is important. It is also something a Torontonian can (and does) point to with pride.”
Sources: Management Review (Toronto: MTZS, 1974); Metropolitan Toronto Zoo Master Plan (Toronto: Johnson Sustronk Weinstein + Associates, 1969); Torontonians’ Perceptions of the NewMetro Toronto Zoo (Toronto: Contemporary Research Centre Limited, 1976); the November 1968 and October 1974 editions of Canadian Architect; the October 2, 1971, March 6, 1972, May 2, 1972, December 12, 1972, July 20, 1974, August 16, 1974, August 26, 1974, August 30, 1974, September 12, 1974, October 17, 1974, January 9, 1975, January 17, 1975, January 18,1975, and May 24, 1975, editions of the Globe and Mail; and the July 6, 1964, May 2, 1972, January 10, 1973, June 2, 1973, September 17, 1973. February 6, 1974, February 16, 1974, March 29, 1974, July 17, 1974, July 31, 1974, August 2, 1974, August 5, 1974, August 16, 1974, August 21, 1974, August 24, 1974, September 24, 1974, October 1, 1974, January 9, 1975, January 16, 1975, January 17, 1975, and April 17, 1976, editions of the TorontoStar.
Donate