Latest news with #thestar.ca
Toronto Star
5 hours ago
- General
- Toronto Star
Ontario Line construction unleashed rats into her home. But Metrolinx has not footed the full bill — and won't tell her why
Star investigation Rat complaints are surging. Metrolinx says its 'committed to working with communities to mitigate this issue.' Updated 2 hrs ago June 8, 2025 6 min read Save By Emma McIntoshInvestigative Reporter, and Andy TakagiTransportation Reporter For all the horrors the rats wrought upon Janice La Chapelle's home, she was at least comforted by Metrolinx's promise to pay her back for the quickly mounting exterminator bills. The rodents started showing up in her Leslieville house in 2020, soon after crews began work across the street for the construction of the Ontario Line. Displaced from their nests by the drilling near Dundas St. E and Logan Ave., they burrowed and chewed throughout the retiree's house: through the concrete floors in her basement, then into her walls and plumbing, eventually overflowing her toilet with rat feces that smelled like rotting food. ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW EM Emma McIntosh is a reporter on the Toronto Star's investigative team. Reach her via email: emcintosh@ Andy Takagi is the transportation reporter for the Star. Reach him via email: atakagi@ Related Stories The digging is just beginning, but the Ontario Line is already remaking Toronto. We travelled its entire 15.6-kilometre length to find out how I went to rat school in New York City to see if Toronto had any hope of beating back its rodent invasion. Here's what I learned Ontario animal welfare agents seized dogs they said were in distress. Then the animals started to die on the government's watch Report an error Journalistic Standards About The Star More from The Star & partners
Toronto Star
27-05-2025
- Business
- Toronto Star
My apartment had been my affordable refuge during divorce. Then my landlord sent me the email all tenants dread
Real estate is emotional. Why? Because a home is more than walls and a roof, it's a canvas and container for our lives, our families, our communities. As part of an ongoing series, we've asked local writers to share their stories on real estate and housing. Want to write for the Star's Home Truths series? Email hometruths@ 'I would like to present a proposal for your consideration,' the email from my building manager began. Here we go, I thought. After years of worrying about it, I was being asked to move out of my affordable rental.
Hamilton Spectator
26-05-2025
- General
- Hamilton Spectator
My apartment had been my affordable refuge during divorce. Then my landlord sent me the email all tenants dread
Real estate is emotional. Why? Because a home is more than walls and a roof, it's a canvas and container for our lives, our families, our communities. As part of an ongoing series, we've asked local writers to share their stories on real estate and housing. Want to write for the Star's Home Truths series? Email hometruths@ . 'I would like to present a proposal for your consideration,' the email from my building manager began. Here we go , I thought. After years of worrying about it, I was being asked to move out of my affordable rental. The email went on to say that a plan to renovate the roof would cause a significant amount of dust and disturbance to me in my top-floor unit. The property manager offered to move me from my one-bedroom apartment in Humewood—Cedarvale into a studio in another building a short distance away in Briar Hill—Belgravia. The rent would be reduced from the market rate — though still above my current rent — and I was offered a $15,000 incentive that I could take either in the form of a lump sum or a monthly rent reduction for one year on top of the reduced rate. While there was nothing in the email that indicated they planned to force me from the unit, it felt like the writing was on the wall. I'd already successfully ignored a similar email from the property manager a couple of years prior. With a second proposal now looming, and my rent well below market rate, I believed I had to play ball. Saying no felt like kicking the problem into a future where maybe there wouldn't be a deal and where I'd have to compete for a home in Toronto's expensive rental market. It wouldn't be until I was installed in my new apartment that I would start feeling a deep sense of loss and sadness. Tenants don't have to move unless they receive an eviction order from the Landlord and Tenant Board, but standing up for tenant rights requires time, health and money. Last August, I didn't have an abundance of any of those things. With very little time to make the decision, what I did have was anxiety. I didn't want to move but weighing the choices wasn't straightforward. If I did, I'd have a renovated unit with new appliances, but I would be paying a lot more for a smaller space. At the time, I was paying $1,049 for my one-bedroom unit, whereas comparable listings were going for about $1,300 more on average. If I went to the open market, that $15,000 incentive would be eaten up in less than a year. In the studio they were offering, I'd give up my bedroom but gain a balcony. I'd never missed having one, but I imagined that a future me might enjoy reading outside. But my old apartment was where I mended my heart after a divorce, where I reimagined who I was and what I could be, where I decided to return to school at age 40, where I completed the work of two degrees, and where I survived a pandemic. Indeed, uprooting my life at someone else's behest was much like my divorce, except back then the act of moving made me feel powerful whereas now I felt powerless. In the end, there were two factors about the new location that tipped the scales toward accepting the landlord's proposal. The new unit overlooked a quiet residential street, which would bring me an unfathomable amount of serenity compared to the screeching buses on Bathurst and racket from the 24-hour gas station I lived above. And importantly, the new building had an elevator. This would mean that my mother, who hadn't been able to climb the stairs to my current unit for years, would once again be able to visit me. So, I took the deal. I thought it would keep me safe. A neighbour in my old building used to joke with me that our rent-controlled walk-up would have to burn down around us before we considered moving. That's because for many years we had an individual landlord who, content with the extra income the building generated, never raised our rent. But great deals on rent come with a catch. Over the 17 years I lived there, the once well-maintained building began to fall into disrepair. That changed when the building was sold to a corporate landlord. Soon, the new landlord began making welcomed safety and cosmetic improvements to the property. As tenants moved out, their apartments were renovated and rents for those units subsequently increased. Eventually, only a handful of us 'OGs' remained. Then, one month from the day the proposal landed in my inbox, I was unpacking in my new home. In late October, I found Statistics Canada's Canadian Housing Survey in my new mailbox. The questionnaire, which collected data until March 31, sought insights from Canadians on housing topics such as affordability, needs, satisfaction, aspirations and discrimination. It also included a section on what it called 'forced moves.' These are defined as situations where 'you were made to feel there was no other option but to move.' This was the validation I needed to start making peace with my decision. Still, months later, my cheeks blaze with shame that I didn't put up more of a fight. I'm still close enough to my old neighbourhood to visit my favourite haunts, but when I do, I remember that I'm just a visitor passing through and a lump balls up in my throat. I'll never know my new neighbourhood or any other one as intimately as the five-kilometre radius around St. Clair West and Bathurst, having walked and rewalked every nook and back alley during pandemic lockdowns when all I could do as a single person was walk and walk and walk. I don't regret my decision — I feel strongly that staying would have simply postponed a similar outcome — but it's been hard to recover from the trauma and exhaustion of packing up in panic-mode. Meanwhile, I've learned that some of my new neighbours describe themselves as 'OGs' in this building, just like I used to at my old place. Soon after I moved into my new unit, I arrived home from work and found a piece of Bristol board posted at the elevator along with some cheerful balloons. Everyone was invited to write a message to a neighbour celebrating her 85 th birthday. The residents in my old building tended to be youngish single people and couples due to the one-bedroom units and the nature of it being a walk-up, which excluded older people. My new home feels more like a community because there is greater diversity in unit sizes and tenant ages. On the other hand, being forced to move from my one-bedroom to a studio feels like sliding backwards in life. I had to make many painful decisions about what came with me, including letting go of the piano I had taken childhood lessons on and a dining set that my father had refinished. But my formerly feral cat, who remains deeply distrustful of most humans, is thriving in a home where she can easily survey her entire domain. I try to take my cues from her, and in doing so I am learning that this can be a creative container to hold who I am now as I transition from university into a new career. Nevertheless, the circumstances here are all too familiar: a rent-controlled building and long-term tenants paying below-market rent. There are similar cases all over town and affordable rentals are disappearing. In November, the city passed a bylaw designed to prevent renovictions — evicting tenants in bad faith under the guise of renovations. Among other things, it will require landlords to pay for a $700 per unit renovation licence and prove that their intended renovation requires the tenant to vacate their home. Enforcement is set to begin on July 31. While the bylaw is well-intentioned, I worry about unintended consequences, should landlords race to beat the incoming regulation. Once enforcement begins on July 31, will landlords simply find new ways to get rent-controlled tenants out? For now, my housing feels secure, but the situation has revealed how vulnerable I am as a single tenant. It's left me wondering how long I can continue to live in a city that doesn't seem to love me back. Leslie Sinclair is a Toronto journalist who reports on culture, social justice and religion. In 2024, she won a National Magazine Award for her work exploring access to information in Canadian prisons. She is still unpacking in her new apartment.
Hamilton Spectator
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Hamilton Spectator
Looking for better love: I'm a 71-year-old widower hoping to fall desperately in love one last time
Better Love — part of the Star's Toronto the Better project — is a yearlong personal ad series that connects Torontonians looking for love, and offers an alternative to our swiping habit. Singles pen honest, vulnerable descriptions of what and who they're looking for, in a throwback to (photo-free) personal ads of yore. These essays will appear regularly in the Star, and interested parties can reply to an email address — betterlove@ — to connect. I'm retired after a successful career as a lawyer, corporate executive and educator. I was born and raised in Toronto but have lived and travelled elsewhere, including, when I was younger, Europe for two months on five dollars a day, and a few years later on an around-the-world five-month journey. I have both a pan-Canadian and a global perspective. I also loved playing tennis for 50 years, downhill skiing for 30 years and volleyball for 20 years. Although I was raised Jewish, I do not ascribe to any formal religion; I consider myself a spiritual person with a true moral compass and a strong interest in giving back. I am 71 years young and pursue a variety of interests with energy and enthusiasm, including performing in a rock and pop choir; volunteering as a tutor for new Canadians in English, math, and computer skills; and taking courses on a variety of subjects that pique my interest and fulfil my goal of being a lifelong learner. Joining a rock and pop choir indicates my risk-taking (as the last time I was in a choir was when I was nine), along with a love of music and performing. Film is an abiding passion, and I am a member of both TIFF and Hot Docs, and have volunteered for both over the last three festivals. Being single as well as retired allows me to do all the things I like to do. If necessary, I am prepared to modify at least some of that to be with someone I love. I married later in life, at age 46. We had 20 wonderful years together, travelling the world, writing books together, laughing, and loving each other. Sadly, she was diagnosed with cancer in 2017 and passed in 2020. It was a struggle to come to terms with her passing. I began to date again late in 2022 and enjoyed a five-month relationship with a woman in 2023 that came to an amicable conclusion. It has become clear to me that I miss the fun, excitement, warmth, shared experiences, love, and intimacy of a committed relationship, and yearn to find that again. I seek a woman who is intellectually curious. She must also be adventurous: not risk-seeking, but primed to check out what the world has to offer, both at home and abroad. She must have a sense of humour and be able to laugh. Finally, I seek a romantic, someone who wants to hold hands in public and behave lovingly in private. Politically I am a bit left of centre and proudly Canadian, which might be a problem for those right of centre. I do not own or use a smart phone which may seem strange to most. Since I started dating again in 2022, it has only been through friends as I have no interest in using social media for that (or almost anything else). I guess my circle of friends is not wide enough to have met likely candidates. I have been a reader of the Toronto Star for 60 years — I started young — so I feel a commonality with people who read it. I miss the love of intimacy I once had, and I felt this ad was a way to find a wider range of women with whom I could share love and all the other aspects of togetherness. I have only fallen deeply and hopelessly in love a few times in my life and want to have the thrill of that experience once more — and, hopefully, for the rest of our lives. Want to get in touch with Irv? Email betterlove@ to request a connection. (Note: Responses are not guaranteed.)
Toronto Star
26-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Toronto Star
Looking for better love: I'm a 71-year-old widower hoping to fall desperately in love one last time
Better Love Better Love — part of the Star's Toronto the Better project — is a yearlong personal ad series that connects Torontonians looking for love, and offers an alternative to our swiping habit. Singles pen honest, vulnerable descriptions of what and who they're looking for, in a throwback to (photo-free) personal ads of yore. These essays will appear regularly in the Star, and interested parties can reply to an email address — betterlove@ — to connect. I'm retired after a successful career as a lawyer, corporate executive and educator. I was born and raised in Toronto but have lived and travelled elsewhere, including, when I was younger, Europe for two months on five dollars a day, and a few years later on an around-the-world five-month journey. I have both a pan-Canadian and a global perspective. I also loved playing tennis for 50 years, downhill skiing for 30 years and volleyball for 20 years. Although I was raised Jewish, I do not ascribe to any formal religion; I consider myself a spiritual person with a true moral compass and a strong interest in giving back.
