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12 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Tuesday, March 12, 1985 Fromriches to rags: The startling tale of Maxine Pedlar by Cathy Robb Archibald McCarthur sat comfortably behind the wheel of his '79 Chevy, nosing it northbound through the darkness in an 80 k zone, just north of Manchester. Highway 12 disappeared under his tires as he cut through the night, lit up like day under a nearly full moon. The debris from Monday's snowstorm had all but disappeared, and Wednes- day night's roads were clean and dry. The 61 year old Lindsay driver had never met Maxine Pedlar until that night, never knew about the filth she lived in or her over-whelming love for animals. He didn't realize she held a Master's degree in English or that shé was known as the bag lady of Port Perry. All he knows of Maxine Pedlar is she came out of nowhere and walked directly in the path of his car. At 80 k plus, he had no time to think, no time to stop. The firewood Max- - ine was carrying flew up in the air and scattered across the pavement. The crushing impact snapped the 56 year old woman's neck and for Maxine Pedlar, it was practically all over with even before Archibald McCarthur could bring his Chevy to a halt. NO CHARGES No charges were laid against Mr. McCarthur. Whitby OPP reports clear him completely but give no indication why Maxine literally walked into his car. A post mortem revealed no * drugs or alcohol in her system and from where the accident occurred, a pedestrian can see traf- fic coming for nearly a mile in both directions. No one knows exactly why she was killed, but then again, no one knew much of anything at all about Maxine Pedlar. For two days after her death she was known as Jane Doe as police sear- ched for her identity and next of kin. Eventually Constable Jack Ross discovered her father Bruce Pedlar' in Manitoba, who wanted nothing to do with his daughter's funeral and showed little interest in her death. Her mother died in childbirth and as a result, Maxine was raised by her grandparents. "1 think that's part of the reason she turned out like she did,"' says one of Maxine's few friends, Ann Carnwath of Toron- to. 'Her grandparents never showed her any real affection so she look- ed for what she was missing in animals. [It never occurred to her to look for it in people." Ms. Carnwath has known Maxine for more than 30 years, from the days when they both liv- ed in Victoria College of the University of Toronto. Maxine cametoUof T with a Gold Medal from United College in Win- nipeg and an IQ of 152. TOUGH FOR WOMEN "Of course, it was very tough for women in those days, a lot tougher than it is now," Ms. Carnwath recalls, but nevertheless Maxine struggled through, was awarded her Master's Degree in English and came within a couple subjects of receiving her doctorate. Tired of school, she started to work instead, and was employed alter- nately at various com- panies throughout the ci- ty, including a bookmobile job for a ci- ty library system. "But her forte was per- sonnel.- She was a great con artist," Ms. Carn- wath laughs. "She couldn't place women but she could place men like no one else." She was a strong woman even then, known as a unionist and a socialist with strong views on every subject. "She stood up for the important things," her old friend says. "She told them what was on her mind, even if they didn't understand her or believe her." One of the things she stood up for the most was animals, a love that would eventually become an obsession and her downfall. Sometime in the early sixties, Ann Carnwath went to Italy and when she returned, Maxine Pedlar was a changed _ person. "She had flipped for animals. They were all she cared about and she had given up everything else for them,' she says. LIFE CHANGED She doesn't know what happened to Maxine while she was abroad, or doesn't want to talk about it, but whatever happened changed Max- ine's life forever. She owned a bungalow in Rosedale at the time and began getting into trouble with the local Humane Society over the animals she kept. Police were called frequently to assist Society employees as Maxine grew surly and in 1979 she appeared arguing with a policeman in the pages of the Toronto Star. From that time on, the details of her life are sketchy although she has been known to live in Markham, Orangeville, Bradford and Guilford. Somewhere along the road she ran into a character named Charlie Ingwer, supposedly a Toronto multi- millionaire with proper- ty all over the "tenderloin" of Toronto including the George Street area. Also known for his love of dogs, Charlie told police he felt sorry for Maxine and offered her places to stay, in Orangeville and in a derelict old farm direct- ly across from the Watermill Restaurant on Highway 12, nearly 2km north of Manchester. It's there, in conditions not fit for anything but rats, that Maxine has liv- ed since late last summer. Condemned by the Durham Region Health Unit as an unofficial residence ages ago, Max- ine nevertheless lived there "unofficially" with - her dogs, a '"'herd" that varied in size depending on how many the Township's animal con- trol officers had impounded. At one point a neighbour counted 45 dogs roaming the proper- ty but on the day Maxine died only seven were found, four adults with skin diseases that were "put down and three pup- pies now up for adoption. APPALLED When Animal Control officer Ann Barrett went into the house to remove the dogs, she was appall- ed at Maxine's former surroundings. Garbage, old clothes and abandoned ap- pliances litter the lawn and dog excrement is everywhere, including nearly every square foot' of the house. The roof leaks, the floor and walls are torn It might have been a nice place to live at one time, but the house where Maxine Pedlar spent her final few months of life was riddled with decay. Maxine was kill- up and filth is everywhere. Her bed is an oil and dirt soaked mattress covered with an old blanket encrusted with grime. And while the hydro still works in what might be called the kitchen, the house has no running water. The bathroom is engorged with dirth. Empty soup cans, and a carton of frozen peas, now rotten, litter the kit- chen floor. The cupboard doors hang open, empty. In the barn, a cardboard box is filled with mouldy bread and buns. "I'm not sure if she had that for the dogs or for herself,"' Ann Barrett says. 'It's 'a sad situation." PICKING GARBAGE. Dressed in tattered jeans, n.. old pigskin coat, workboots and a hat with the flaps pulled down, Maxine was well known in Port Perry, where she would walk whenever she needed something. With most of her teeth missing, and a dirty face she was known to haunt the garbage bins of local stores and restaurants, searching for food, usual- ly hauling an oversized duffel bag and a Tupper- ware container to carry it with. Although she dressed like a man, she walked like a caricature of an old woman, stooped beyond her 56 years. Sometimes she'd have to stop and kneel on the ground, as if suffering from dizziness or some kind of pain. "At first I thought she was just doing it to get sympathy," a neighbour who wishes to remain anonymous recalls. 'But I don't think she's that kind of person. She didn't seem to want sym- pathy, or anything else for that matter. I think maybe there was something wrong with her." Without any visible source of income, Max- ine lived by her wits alone even though help was within her reach. Last November she ap- It's hard to believe anyone could live in a house like this (the inside is even worse, strewn with garbage, rotting food and other filth) but Maxine Pedlar made it her home along with seven dogs -- her only "family." proached Elizabeth Fulford of Scugog Com- munity Care to ask about welfare or any kind of financial aid. FUNDS AVAILABLE As Mrs. Fulford pointed out, welfare and a clean, warm place to stay could be available to her as long as she met the conditions that went along with them. One of the conditions was that she move out of Charlie Ingwer's house and give up her dogs. That, of course, was impossible. No matter what, Maxine was deter- mined to keep her dogs even if it meant contiriu- ing to live on her own private Skid Row. 'She wanted help but on her terms," Mrs. Fulford says.' 'She was a lady who knew the streets, who knew the system and used it as best she could." For awhile she tried to d nT pS yo Cmte et Mo ARK PR SRA a 450 7 I EO SG - ws Sor ar find a place to keep her dogs, and for a brief respite she rented a barn owned by Gord Burnet, within walking distance of Charlie Ingwer's house. But the situation didn't work out and both Maxine and the dogs were back to living in a hovel. "Life wasn't worth liv- ing without them," Mrs. Fulford says about Max- ine's outlook. "She preferred animals to people.' One glance at the house she called home is enough to make a person wonder how she made it through the winter. The only heat source in the place is a small woodstove and Maxine spent her days collecting firewood from any place she could find it. It wasn't unusual to see Maxine's hunched figure dragging fence ties or lumber scraps up the Sixth Concession and while some folks accused her of stealing it, more darn | i a ~~ sympathetic people turn- ed a blind eye. Last Wednesday night was bitterly cold for this time of year. No doubt Maxine and her canine family were feeling it a bit more than the rest of town, with the wind tear- ing through the holes in the walls and no wood to fuel the stove. So she slipped into the night to gather an armful - of firewood, and on her way home walked into Archibald McCarthur's Chevy. When the frost leaves the ground she'll be given a pauper's funeral at Pine Grove Cemetery in Prince Albert. Funeral director Harold Wagg will purchase four plain cornerstone markers and if welfare won't pay for it, he says he will. ~ While her body was at Wagg's Funeral Home, nobody sent flowers and nobody visited. Maxine Pedlar died as she lived. Alone. 2300 na ttl Wr a i I ---- WE PER ACR ARR Bi I. Sales a pe ae oh ae RNR Se A BARS 0 Gt 55... TL ed Wednesday night as she was crossing Highway 12 with an armload of firewood to keep her and her animals warm. See story for details.