Sober streets

>> Merger won’t bring bars back to dry former cities

by PATRICK LEJTENYI

Photo by Jason Felker

What’s a thirsty Verduner to drink? The former city and now mega-borough has been dry since the ’30s, thanks to bylaws prohibiting the establishment of bars and taverns, presumably to keeps its then-working-class population from drinking themselves to death. The status quo, in this respect, remains as it was: no bars, no taverns, no nightclubs. Verduners have to go into the city to drink.

So do Westmounters. Longstanding bylaws there have prevented bars and nightclubs from opening in the leafy, wealthy enclave, although certain exceptions were made for restaurant/bars that often served as late-night drinking spots (remember, for instance, the late and lamented Marcos & Pepes, or the Claremont), and for private clubs like various Legion Halls. So into the old city of Montreal Westmounters must go to satisfy their boozy intentions.

This doesn’t seem to be changing. While this week’s Summit of Montreal will be discussing a rather vast array of pressing urban needs, the status of the friendly neighbourhood drinking hole isn’t among them. Hopes held by some that the new mega-merger would do away with some of the creakier municipal bylaws will most likely be disappointed.
“Some people want to start new businesses in the boroughs, and there have been some private demands,” says Renaud Poulain, president of the Chateauguay-based Corporation des proprietaires des bars, brasseries et tavernes du Québec. “It’s a municipal decision, but there have not been many demands to change the laws. And there is no indication that there will be any change.”

Poulain says that his organization does not have the right or the inclination to approach municipalities about their bylaws. Furthermore, he says that because opening new drinking establishments would entail a change in zoning laws, the fight seems more trouble than it’s worth.

A Verdun borough spokesperson from the department of urbanism says making life easier for would-be bar patrons is not exactly a pressing priority. “This issue will not be discussed at the Summit and was not brought up at the Verdun borough lead-up summit in April,” she says. “There’s no change in sight for this subject. There is not much of a demand for it, and there’s no political will to do it either.”

Making troubles worse, or better

Granted, there probably are more important topics for Verdun’s politicians to be discussing at the Summit. Take poverty, for instance. A full 38 per cent of Verdun households live below the poverty line, according to 1996 data—and that number would be far higher without the inclusion of upscale borough neighbours on Nun’s Island, where the average household income is between two to three times higher than on the mainland. Or school drop-out rates, which are the highest in the city. And because substance abuse is more of a problem in poorer parts of the city, like Verdun, charities and outreach organizations aren’t too crazy about the idea of bringing bars there either.

“Anything that makes drinking more available encourages substance abuse,” says Judy Stevens, director of Share the Warmth Foundation, a south-west Montreal food and clothing bank. “When people who are more well-to-do [drink to excess], we call it social drinking. But when people are living in desperation and poverty, they turn to substance abuse as a means to forget.”

Stevens does think, however, that bars will eventually come to Verdun. “People are going to go in there and see all the empty store fronts and say, ‘Why not?’ It makes sense to me. Our bylaws aren’t a good enough reason to keep us different from everybody else.”
Her last point raises a spectre of uncertainty around the Summit and its long-term reverberations. Donna Forde, director of Verdun’s Dawson Community Centre, says the insecurity is pervasive among all ex-municipalities. “No one is really sure if or how we will still use the bylaws,” she says. “We’re all really interested in where we’re going to wind up.” :