The majestic red-and-white transmission tower flanking the railway tracks near Wilson and Upper Lachine stands triumphant as an NDG landmark.
But sadly, it lacks a narrative.
So when your kid or guest to town asks "hey what's that thing?" your options to dazzle with offhand anecdote are limited.
Some have darkly suggested that the towers beam down cancer rays that lowers lifespans of locals but there's not much to back that up.
(Do you think you'll eventually get to some point or another? You're losing readers by the second- Chimples)
The tower was, for a moment at least, a useful tool for a heartbroken lover.
Back in the mid-1960s the tower was not flanked by those mafia shoebox condos, which sprouted up about a dozen years ago.
Back then it stood on lands that long housed a Bell Canada facility and sprawling parking lot.
Chronically misunderstood Jimmy McElligott, 21, left his home at 2066 Claremont on Saturday 24 April 1965 and climbed up the tower with the intention of leaping off to cure his broken heart.
Neighbours called police, police called firemen and they called a priest.
So fire chief William Greer and Father Dollard talked him down with a megaphone and the young and precious McElligott was brought to a police cell to answer some questions.
McElligott found himself romantically distraught once again a year later.
So on Thursday 19 May 1966 at 10 p.m. he pulled the same heartbroken climbing stunt for the third time (apparently there was another attempt we are not aware of).
He rose up, step by perilous step, higher and higher towards the peak of a CN Rail lighting tower at 2993 Lionel Groulx (then called Albert) in St. Henri, this time to promise to kill himself over a girl named Cindy.
A firefighter climbed up in the dark to coax him down. They insisted on total darkness for fear light might surprise him and lead him to fall.
A reporter from an English language radio station chatted with him and somehow got a beer up to him.
Sadly, however, McElligott died.
He died 44 years later in Saskatoon after marrying a different woman and father a pair of kids. But heck it's still sad.
But sadly, it lacks a narrative.
So when your kid or guest to town asks "hey what's that thing?" your options to dazzle with offhand anecdote are limited.
Some have darkly suggested that the towers beam down cancer rays that lowers lifespans of locals but there's not much to back that up.
(Do you think you'll eventually get to some point or another? You're losing readers by the second- Chimples)
The tower was, for a moment at least, a useful tool for a heartbroken lover.
Back in the mid-1960s the tower was not flanked by those mafia shoebox condos, which sprouted up about a dozen years ago.
Back then it stood on lands that long housed a Bell Canada facility and sprawling parking lot.
Chronically misunderstood Jimmy McElligott, 21, left his home at 2066 Claremont on Saturday 24 April 1965 and climbed up the tower with the intention of leaping off to cure his broken heart.
Neighbours called police, police called firemen and they called a priest.
So fire chief William Greer and Father Dollard talked him down with a megaphone and the young and precious McElligott was brought to a police cell to answer some questions.
McElligott found himself romantically distraught once again a year later.
So on Thursday 19 May 1966 at 10 p.m. he pulled the same heartbroken climbing stunt for the third time (apparently there was another attempt we are not aware of).
He rose up, step by perilous step, higher and higher towards the peak of a CN Rail lighting tower at 2993 Lionel Groulx (then called Albert) in St. Henri, this time to promise to kill himself over a girl named Cindy.
A firefighter climbed up in the dark to coax him down. They insisted on total darkness for fear light might surprise him and lead him to fall.
A reporter from an English language radio station chatted with him and somehow got a beer up to him.
Sadly, however, McElligott died.
He died 44 years later in Saskatoon after marrying a different woman and father a pair of kids. But heck it's still sad.