
Hundreds visit historic Brantford aircraft factory during Doors Open
Over 500 people visited the site of the former Cockshutt Moulded Aircraft factory during the Doors Open Along the Grand event on Saturday, May 10, 2025.
Doors Open Along the Grand is presented in partnership with Doors Open Ontario, an annual program of the Ontario Heritage Trust. Every year, visitors to Doors Open events gain rare access to buildings and spaces that are typically closed to the public or to sites that normally charge admission.
This year, 32 municipalities throughout the province took part in the program, and for the first time ever, the City of Brantford, the County of Brant and Six Nations of the Grand River, came together to present Doors Open Along the Grand.
During the one-day event, residents and out-of-town visitors alike were given free access to explore 17 heritage buildings and sites across all three communities, including the former Cockshutt Moulded Aircraft factory.
Located in the Eagle Place neighbourhood, the Cockshutt Plow Company first built the 148 Mohawk St. facility during the Second World War.
At the time, the aircraft division supplied critical military aircraft parts, and the building was specifically constructed to produce airplane fuselages and other components.
Hosted by Vincenzo Capotorto (the building's current owner), the Canadian Industrial Heritage Centre (CIHC) and Brant Theatre Workshops, the event featured a host of interpretive displays, historical artifacts, old newspaper clippings, an old documentary film and a reading of the play, 'The Footlocker,' which was written by Brantford's own Vincent Ball.
Rob Adlam, a volunteer with the CIHC, said the event was a great opportunity for locals to learn a bit about the building they so frequently drive by.
'The building was built back in 1942 but the Cockshutt Moulded Aircraft division didn't start operating until January of 1943. Following the end of the Second World War, military contracts were canceled, so aircraft production obviously ceased, and it was converted to harvester combine production from the end of the war, until April 1985 when it closed,' he said. 'Having grown up in Brantford and being the fifth generation working in industry in Brantford, there's a lot of history hiding in plain sight. A lot of people drive by this place and have no idea what it is. That's nothing against them, it's just because it's gone uncelebrated, uninterpreted and left to the dust pile of history. We've had former White Farm Equipment employees here today talking about their experiences in this building and those are real people. They're not dusty artifacts, they made their living here and made a difference with innovation… they put Branford on the map.'
While the facility was originally known for building various parts for several military aircrafts, the Cockshutt Moulded Aircraft Division's over 6,000 employees (many of whom were women) primarily created the fuselages of two British airplanes, the Avro Anson training aircraft and the de Havilland Mosquito bomber.
'They produced over 600 planes and by the end of the war, they were producing the Mosquito, which was sort of Canada's wonder weapon,' said Peter Muir, CIHC board member and Artistic Director of Brant Theatre Workshops. 'It was the fastest plane in the allied arsenal and it was quite feared by the Germans.'
While there were plenty of interesting treasures on display, Tony Cockshutt, a descendent of the Cockshutt family and CIHC board member, said that his favourite artifact of the day was actually the building itself.
'For me, it's the top of the superstructure which is all wooden,' he said. 'Because it was built during the war, the steel presumably all went to manufacturing wartime equipment and so the building has these huge wooden beams. Given that the building is over 80 years old, it's still in great condition, plus, there's these beautiful windows up at the top there, which provide just a lot of great natural light.'
While Adlam said he completely agreed with Cockshutt, he said that one particularly interesting artifact was a section of an exhaust manifold for an Avro Anson made right in Brantford with the Cockshutt tag still on it.
'It actually came to us from a flight training school in Quill Lake, Saskatchewan, and so the fact that it's come home to Brantford where it belongs is particularly gratifying,' said Adlam. 'These exhaust manifolds were manufactured for various planes, the Anson being one of them, and you can actually see the original tag is still on it with the parts numbers and when it was made, and it says here 'manufactured by the Cockshutt Plow Company in Brantford Ontario.'
Melissa Jones, one of the many Brantford residents who attended the event, said that she had no idea the history behind the building.
'I honestly thought this was just another factory building, I had no idea it was built to specifically help with the war,' she said. 'There's so many cool details all throughout the building like the wooden beams and the track that runs the length of the floor which was used to help move parts from one section to the next; it's really something. I'm originally from Sarnia and so this whole Doors Open event has just been a great opportunity to learn about a few of the places in the community.'
Kimberly De Jong's reporting is funded by the Canadian government through its Local Journalism Initiative. The funding allows her to report rural and agricultural stories from Blandford-Blenheim and Brant County. Reach her at
kimberly.dejong@brantbeacon.ca
.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
6 hours ago
- Yahoo
Marcel Ophuls, maker of The Sorrow and the Pity, which examined French collaboration with the Nazis
Marcel Ophuls, who has died aged 97, was a German-born documentary-maker who fled his homeland in the 1930s and spent much of his career interrogating the various legacies of the Second World War; his international breakthrough, the landmark The Sorrow and the Pity (Le Chagrin et la Pitié, 1969), revealed the extent to which his adopted France had collaborated with the Nazis. The son of the German-Jewish director Max Ophuls – known for such elaborate melodramas as La Ronde (1950) – Marcel began his career in film drama but achieved greater traction with complex, rigorous, meticulously edited non-fiction work. In documentaries such as The Memory of Justice (1976) and Hôtel Terminus (1988), the filmmaker set multiple testimonies side by side, sometimes corroborating, often contradicting, always inviting the spectator to shake any passivity and judge for themselves. In The Sorrow and the Pity, Ophuls spent four and a half hours of screen time – and many more hours of shooting – staking out the city of Clermont-Ferrand 'to analyse four years of collective destiny'. Patiently hearing from residents of all walks of life, the film picked insistently away at the Gaullist myth of a country united against an occupier, instead revealing two Frances at odds with one another – one resisting, the other collaborating. In France, Sorrow was denounced by conservative politicians as 'a prosecutorial film' and initially rejected for both theatrical and television distribution. After much legal wrangling, it finally opened in 1971, earning an Oscar nomination the following year, but it did not air on French television until 1981; a station director said the film had 'destroyed myths the French people still needed'. Ophuls subsequently made films on Vietnam (The Harvest of My Lai, 1970) and the Irish Troubles (A Sense of Loss, 1972), though the latter was rejected by the BBC. His personal favourite, The Memory of Justice, revisited the Nuremberg trials in the context of more recent conflicts in Algeria and Vietnam, though the project was again beset by lengthy and expensive legal challenges; Ophuls filed for bankruptcy shortly thereafter and spent a decade on the lecture circuit. He made a triumphant return, however, with the Oscar-winning Hôtel Terminus, on the life of the Nazi war criminal Klaus Barbie. As free-roaming as its subject, unearthing material both disturbing and absurd, the film ends in one of documentary cinema's most extraordinary sequences, as Ophuls witnesses a chance encounter between a woman who as a child had seen her father carted away by the Gestapo and an elderly neighbour who had turned a blind eye to the same events. Though Hôtel Terminus sparked violent arguments at Cannes, the critic Roger Ebert admired its tenacity, calling it 'the film of a man who continues the conversation after others would like to move on to more polite subjects'. Yet as a characteristically combative Ophuls countered in 2004: 'I'm not obsessed. I just happen to think that the Holocaust was the worst thing that happened in the 20th century. Think I'm wrong?' He was born Hans Marcel Oppenheimer in Frankfurt on November 1 1927, the son of Max Oppenheimer and his actress wife Hildegard Wall. The family fled Germany for France in 1933, taking French citizenship in 1938, whereupon Max dropped the umlaut from his stage name, Ophüls; after the occupation they fled anew to Los Angeles, where Max began an unhappy spell as a studio filmmaker and Marcel attended Hollywood High and Occidental College. Marcel Ophuls completed military service in Japan before studying at UC Berkeley, taking US citizenship in 1950. Upon graduation he moved to Paris, briefly studying philosophy at the Sorbonne, before dropping out and working as an assistant director (initially under the pseudonym Marcel Wall, to dodge nepotism accusations) on John Huston's Moulin Rouge (1952) and his father's sweeping Lola Montès (1955). He made his directorial debut with a German television adaptation of John Mortimer's The Dock Brief (Das Pflichtmandat, 1958), before being tapped by François Truffaut to contribute to the portmanteau film Love at Twenty (L'amour à vingt ans, 1962). By now he was part of the New Wave set: Jeanne Moreau funded his detective comedy Banana Skin (Peau de Banane, 1963), but his fiction career came to a halt after the flop thriller Place Your Bets, Ladies (Faites vos jeux, mesdames, 1965). Ophuls moved into documentary, taking a job with the French broadcaster ORTF, where he railed against the prevailing state censorship; he was eventually fired in May 1968 after making a film deemed sympathetic to the student rioters, though by then he was well into post-production on The Sorrow and the Pity. After Hôtel Terminus, Ophuls suffered mixed fortunes. November Days (1990), on the subject of German reunification, played as part of the BBC's Inside Story strand, but The Troubles We've Seen (Veillées d'armes, 1994), on wartime journalism and the Bosnian conflict, failed to reach an audience, despite a César nomination in France. He worked more sparingly in the new millennium, completing Max par Marcel (2009), on his father's legacy, and the career overview Ain't Misbehavin' (Un voyageur, 2013), his final completed film; a later project on anti-Semitism and the Middle East, Des vérités désagréables (Unpleasant Truths), ran into financial and legal troubles and remained unfinished at the time of his death. During a visit to Israel in 2007, Ophuls attempted to define his life's work: 'I'm not a preacher, a judge or an adviser. I'm just a filmmaker trying now and then to make sense of crises... Life made me, unwillingly, an expert on 20th-century crises. I would've preferred to direct musicals.' He is survived by his wife Regine, née Ackermann, and three daughters. Marcel Ophuls, born November 1 1927, died May 24 2025 Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Yahoo
28-05-2025
- Yahoo
Justin Trudeau Was Just Accused of Disrespecting King Charles After His Speech Seemingly Dissing Trump
Former Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau attended King Charles' speech at Canada's Parliament, and his fashion statement is turning heads. Some people might go so far as to say that it's the wrong move. Justin Trudeau wore a pair of green Adidas Sambas in the Canadian Parliament chamber when King Charles was delivering his speech. Some political commentators took offense at the act. 'Tactical disrespect from Justin Trudeau who wore green trainers to King's speech – knowing his footwear would be on view to the world. Pathetic attempt to put two fingers (or feet) up at the monarchy?,' journalist Angela Epstein posted on X. More from StyleCaster King Charles Subtly Let His Opinion of Trump Be Known After Their Relationship Took a Dramatic Turn King Charles & Trump's Relationship Takes Dramatic Turn as the Monarch Will Defend His Position 'By Every Means Possible' On the other hand, some people thought that people were overreacting. 'Get ready because the right is about to lose their ever loving mind because Justin Trudeau is not only at the throne speech but wearing the most interesting footwear you wouldn't expect him to wear and I'm just going to sit back and watch with some popcorn,' one person wrote on X. King Charles' speech was strongly rooted in Canada's sovereignty after President Donald Trump's constant suggestions to make the country the 51st state of the USA. 'We must face reality: since the Second World War, our world has never been more dangerous and unstable. Canada is facing challenges that, in our lifetimes, are unprecedented,' Charles said in French, one of Canada's national resigned as Prime Minister and leader of the Liberal Party in January 2025. Mark Carney was subsequently voted in. Carney personally invited the King to open Parliament, a feat that hasn't been done by a Monarch since 1977 when Queen Elizabeth took those duties. The King never addressed Trump's name in his delivery, but addressed the fact that 'many Canadians are feeling anxious and worried about the drastically changing world around them.' The Monarch affirmed Canada's sovereignty, saying the 'True North is indeed strong and free.' Charles also mentioned when his mother Queen Elizabeth opened up Parliament in 1957 amid the backdrop of the Cold War and fresh out of World War II, he noted that, 'freedom and democracy were under threat. Today, Canada faces another critical moment.' Best of StyleCaster The 26 Best Romantic Comedies to Watch if You Want to Know What Love Feels Like These 'Bachelor' Secrets & Rules Prove What Happens Behind the Scenes Is So Much Juicier BTS's 7 Members Were Discovered in the Most Unconventional Ways
Yahoo
28-05-2025
- Yahoo
Meet the MasterChef star who's head chef at Stove Restaurant
As part of our Meet the Chef series, we're talking to some of Cumbria's finest about their lives in and out of the kitchen. This week, it's the turn of Stove Restaurant's Radha Kaushal-Bolland What is your current role and what does it involve? I'm the head chef at Stove Restaurant, located on the Langdale Estate in Ambleside. I lead a talented and growing kitchen team, working alongside estate chef Duncan McKay to deliver a memorable dining experience for every guest. I'm responsible for menu design, ingredient sourcing, kitchen operations, and team development. How long have you been a chef? I've been working in professional kitchens since 2022, after reaching the final of BBC MasterChef. While my professional journey is relatively recent, my passion for food runs deep, shaped by my dual heritage, and inspired by both my parents and grandparents, who taught me the value of cooking with heart and soul. My paternal great-grandfather was a baker, and remarkably, that skill helped him survive as a prisoner of war during the Second World War, when he became a cook for his captors. That story has always stayed with me. How did you first get into cooking? I grew up surrounded by the aromas of my mum and grandma cooking homemade Indian food, and that's where my love for flavour and spice was born. For many years, cooking was my creative outlet outside of law. But after applying for BBC MasterChef and reaching the final, I knew this was more than a passion, it was my purpose. Where did you learn your craft? I'm proudly self-taught, though I've built my professional experience in both fine dining country estate kitchens and bustling city-centre restaurants. I believe in continuous learning, from people, mistakes, and the seasons. I'm also hugely grateful for what MasterChef taught me about cooking under pressure, staying focused, and trusting your instincts. What was your first job in hospitality? My first role in hospitality was in a busy, modern British restaurant, where I quickly learned to work the line, prep fast, and stay calm under pressure. (Image: Stove Restaurant) What is your signature dish? My signature dish has to be a dessert with a cocktail pairing. Whenever I dine out, I always look at the pudding menu first and plan my meal backwards. If you're looking for a savoury option, then I would choose my Rainbow Vegetable Bhaji Burger. It's made with spiced shredded vegetables, served in a brioche bun with mango mayonnaise and a pickled red cabbage and onion slaw. It's colourful, flavourful, and packed with character. What's been your worst cooking disaster? Early on in my career, I once mixed up sugar and salt in a pastry cream and piped it into tart shells just before service. It was a classic rookie error, and had I tasted the mixture, I would've caught the mistake in time. That moment drilled into me the absolute importance of tasting everything, even the basics. What are your culinary ambitions? I'm still only 27, and even though I'm young, I already consider this my second career. Law was my first. But I've found my purpose in the kitchen, and I'm fully committed to this new chapter.