Neighbourhood Icon: Glen's Chip Wagon

No question about it, Glen's chip wagon (or chip truck, fry truck, etc.) is an icon of the neighbourhood. It has been parked in roughly the same area since the early 1980s. It is popular, and has seen the streetscape around it change so significantly, yet it has remained anchored in the community.

The most obvious question to most would be - well, who is Glen? The answer to that is easy. "Glen" is Glen Sheskay, a third-generation chip-wagonist, who started the chip wagon on Richmond Road back in 1982. But sadly he is no longer involved in it, and as far as I know sold his ownership many years ago. But we'll get to that...

The story of Glen's actually goes back to the early 20th century, so to tell the story of Glen's, one must tell the story of the origination of chip wagons in Ottawa, which was a bit of a fun project to try to research (and definitely not easy!). 

French Fries and Chip Wagons in Ottawa

The history of chip wagons is essentially an unwritten one. 

A 2009 Toronto Star article wrote: "Chip trucks are an iconic culinary tradition in Ontario, yet their place in culinary history is a mystery. Queen's University English professor Heather Evans suspects they are descendants of 19th-century baked potato street vendors in London and Paris. She found a sketch of one of these Parisian carts in an 1893 article in Canadian Magazine. After hitting Google, Evans discovered there's a dearth of scholarly papers and solid research. Chip trucks are "so ubiquitous, so familiar, that people just don't see the historical aspects," laments the Canadian culinary history expert. "There's probably cultural funding for this."

French fries themselves date back well into the 19th century (when they were known as "french friend potatoes"), and the first reference to them in an Ottawa newspaper is found in 1894, in the Ottawa Journal page oddly enough dedicated to "Dress and Fashion":

Ottawa Journal - April 16, 1894

Finding the first chip wagon proves to be an impossibility. Hunting through old newspaper archives to try to uncover the first one has proven too difficult. Certainly it is conclusive the chip wagon vendor was born out of what was originally a street vendor business that focused on peanuts and popcorn. These early vendors, from the handful of relevant articles I could track down from the era, appear to have been all Greek men. And it appears even they weren't welcome for all that long either...

June 9, 1908

Stock photo of a vintage popcorn and peanut vendor
(not in Ottawa)

In 1912, a new bylaw was passed allowing for wagons selling peanuts and popcorn. And it seems even then, the popcorn/peanut sellers weren't that beloved either...

March 25, 1920

The vendors would not park in one place as they do today, but rather would travel the streets, constantly moving, like an ice cream truck might do. They were largely push carts, or more elaborate wagons that were horse-drawn, eventually leading to some motorized wagons. The vendors alerted the households to their presence through an obnoxious whistle. This was a well-known alert that became synonymous with the peanut man's cart. In 1935, City council created a bylaw prohibiting noises, specifically "unnecessary noises". Included in the bylaw was what was termed "unusual noise", which was vague and left open to interpretation. But a Judge ruled that "unusual noise" included the peanut man's whistle, described as "a high and penetrating note that stands out from the mixed clamor of noisy motors, tooting horns, flat car wheels, yelling children, and if the wagon stands long on one spot of a warm day weary nerves magnify the whistle to a piercing and almost unbearable shreik."

The Citizen editorial noted that it was unfortunate for the vendors, and hoped they would be able to find another way of self-promoting. The editorial noted: "Whatever the peanut vendors have to do, no child or grown-up would want to see peanuts driven out of business. The vans of peanuts, popcorn and the latest addition to the trade, the cone of chipped potatoes, are a picturesque part of life in our cities, even though the "unusual noise" of the whistle can very well be dispensed with." This reference to the 'new' potato chip dealer seems then to point to 1935 being the year of the arrival in Ottawa of what would become the chip wagon.

The chip wagon became a bit of local phenomenon, and even though it was the depression, followed by the break-out of WWII, and in general people had very little extra disposable money, they became a raging success. By 1944, there were 14 vendors operating more than 25 chip wagons in the city of Ottawa. The motor vehicle wagons paid an annual fee of $50, while horse-drawn ones paid $30. Licenses were issued by the police department, and estimates from August 1945 stated that wagons were serving 8,000 people daily.

Vendors were also not allowed to sell on 'business streets' but rather residential streets, with a limit of 10 minutes per stop, or else face a fine. For the horse-drawn wagons, they were required to always keep the horse tied to their cart, in case they were required to be moved immediately. 

In the summer of 1943, after complaints were received, the Chief of Police, Sanitary Inspector and Board of Health inspected the premises of the vendors (where their potatoes were peeled and sliced), as well as their wagons and equipment. Ottawa's medical officer of health, Dr. T. A. Lomer agreed to approve the licenses for one year, on the condition that issues related to cleanliness and sanitation were carried out. 

The summer of 1944 saw WW2 raging overseas, but back in Ottawa, the lead headlines were shared for a few months over the topic of chip wagon vendors. By May 1944, Dr. Lomer said he did not believe that any chip wagons were sanitary enough, and refused approval of the renewal of all licenses. He stated primarily concerns around the fact that the chips were being cooked in boiling fat as the wagons were being driven through the streets. Dust would get into the wagons, and thus there was a significant risk of contamination.

Classic Headline - July 4, 1945

It became political, what the newspapers called the "Battle of the Potato Chips" and eventually Council refused to listen to Dr. Lomer's advice (the city's own officer of health!) and instead Mayor Lewis and Council went over his head and advised the Police Commission to issue licenses as per usual. 

Lomer spoke out against chip wagons, noting that, though they should, the health department had no jurisdiction over them. He said that the potatoes were "subject to contamination from the dust of the street", and that "improper handling in some cases and the use of stale chips, made them unhealthy for consumption." He also cited that most had unsanitary conditions due to a lack of running water. Meanwhile the public seemed most concerned about the whistles still used by some vendors, as well as the "trail of empty bags and discarded chips" left behind when they vacated.

A few chip trucks parked in the Byward Market that August (of 1944) were ordered away by the chief food inspector of the city's Department of Health, citing that "their operators, young boys, slept in the machines" while parked on York. "For this and other reasons, they were not in a sanitary condition for the storing, cooking and dispensing of food."

It was the spring of 1945 that the issue came to a head once again. That May, at license-issuing time, the Police Commission, admitted their error in judgment the year prior, and instructed the police department to cancel the licenses until approval certificates were received from the local Board of Health.  Later that week the Board of Health announced it would not approve any permit applications, thus bringing a (temporary) end to the potato chip vendor.

The issue did not end there, however. The media, and some members of council and the general public were not happy at potato chip vendors being singled out. The Citizen editorialized that if chip wagons were being banned due to the wagons being dirty and dusty, that the local board of health should then "follow its decision to a logical conclusion and now recommend that farmers displaying foods on the market" should also be shut down. 

The topic was brought up for debate throughout the summer of 1945. Arguments poured in on the side of the vendors, who were being unjustly banned. It was argued that if was just a few who were unsanitary, why were they all banned? Why was Ottawa justified in banning them when most neighbouring villages and counties allowed them? And furthermore, that it was unfair to these people whose livelihoods were at stake, who continued to be left hanging in 1945 as they had in 1944.  

Mayor Lewis argued that a definite set of regulations could be drawn up to govern chip wagons (no other similar regulations could be found anywhere). Suggested rules would be that only covered wagons could be used, that vendors would have running hot water to wash their hands after each batch, and possibly even banning horse-drawn vehicles. 

"It's nonsense to say you cannot draw up regulations to take care of these men" said one Alderman. Particularly as during the Central Exhibition and other public events, vendors would sell meat and hot dogs in the street without regulation. In fact at the time, the board of health only minimally inspected restaurants, and councillors argued the horror stories of what was being found at restaurants was far worse than what was being found in chip trucks. In fact, no evidence was provided at any time to show any illness or problem had been  found originating from any chip truck. 

Alderman McCann added "no one has been poisoned by potato chips, but there are other things being sold that make people roll in the street. It would be better if a person came along and cut off the licenses of some hotels (bars) whose customers roll in the street. It is a shame the way drunken people are coming out on street and driving cars."

The public was largely behind the vendors, with letter writers to the newspapers noting that "I will always feel that potato chip vendors and their wagons, like the organ man in some larger cities where I have been, add spice and variety to the life of any city... I like my French friend potatoes and got many a thrill buying them in the evenings on the way home from a show, dance or swim. Now the wagons are off the streets and Ottawa looks more desolate than ever."

Finally, in September of 1945, city council voted 12-9 to shelve the motion to issue licenses, essentially to put the issue to bed after months of arguing over it. Alderman McCann, who fought intensely on behalf of the chip wagons all year said: "Mark my words, there will come a day when foods will be sold from vehicles in the streets of Ottawa for that is the trend of future years. It will come in Ottawa as well as in other centers."

Ottawa residents from that point forward had to travel to the suburbs to enjoy chip wagons, as villages such as Eastview (aka Vanier) and Westboro still had them. Hull briefly followed Ottawa's lead and banned chip wagons in 1947 (Montreal did as well).  Vanier eventually banned them in 1967. Nepean never banned them, nor did Gloucester Township. Quebec as a Province had actually banned them in 1935, but never enforced it. However, Montreal began to aggressively enforce the ban in 1965, to clear the city of the pesky fry trucks leading up to Expo 67 (which led to the relocation of many of the huge numbers of chip trucks that had been in the city, dotting the route between Montreal and Ottawa).

Until the late 1970s, for Ottawa residents, the chip wagon remained a special treat worthy of a road trip into the Ottawa Valley to places like Perth, Smiths Falls, Pembroke or Arnprior. It was sometime around 1978-1979 that chip wagons began to be permitted in Ottawa, and they exploded in number between 1980-1981, resulting in a reported 95 wagons in Ottawa by mid-1981. Their popularity led to council looking to increase fees quickly. In 1980, vendors selling pre-cooked food from vehicles parked on private property paid $75 per year (which was to jump to $300 in 1981), while chip wagon owners who cooked food in their trucks had to pay $250 per year (which was to jump to $1,000 per year if parked on private property, and up to $2,000 if they parked on city streets). The bylaw also prohibited owners from parking the wagons less than 46 meters from a restaurant, or within 91 meters of public markets or Super Ex. They were also prohibited in residential areas, except where construction was occurring. Chip wagons fought to survive by parking on downtown streets in no-parking or 1-hour zones, and absorbing the $10 parking tickets they would receive each day. Police threatened to have licenses revoked for those that continually defied the parking rules. It was a bit of a wild west that would take over a decade to sort out properly.

Sheskay family tradition

Glen Sheskay's grandfather was a depression-era chip wagon operator, who operated a horse drawn wagon on the streets of Hull. "Sheskay's" as it was known, sold chips and popcorn. It was a way for his family to make ends meet. He outfitted his wagon for $300 and was successful in his endeavour. Glen's father Joe helped his father, and in fact already had experience working on a wagon when he was 8.

Glen's father was Joe Sheskay, or as he was better known, "King of Patates Frites". A profile on Joe from 1969 began: "Almost every day he starts work, Joe Sheskay tells himself he'll quit his 17-hour-a-day, seven-days a week job running a chip wagon. But the next day he's back, thinking the same way and still doing the same thing."

1969 newspaper photo of Joe Sheskay

Joe went into business for himself after WWII, and in 1949 built his first chip truck at age 28. By 1969, he had three trucks in operation in Hull (at the time there were 7 chip wagons in total in Hull in the summer, and 5 in the fall, so Joe had a big piece of the 'market' at the time). 

Joe operated his trucks from March until Christmas. and then during the winter repaired and updated his trucks. A typical day for him started at 6 a..m with the peeling of potatoes and cleaning of equipment. His son Frank then took one truck around to construction sites, while Joe continued to cut potatoes, while also keeping an eye on the coin laundry business they also ran nearby. At 4 p.m. Joe took over the main truck and parked at a gas station lot on Principale between the Ottawa House and Standish Hall, where he worked until 11 p.m. During peak season, he reportedly used 7,500 pounds of potatoes and 900 pounds of peanut oil each week

Joe, like seemingly every chip wagon operator throughout the 20th century, was constantly battling local government. In 1968, Hull bylaw changed that said he could not set up on the street, so he had to rent off-street space. In 1969, regulations changed further allowing mobile canteens to sell prepared foods that would not be cooked in the truck (thankfully chip wagons were exempted under a special clause). And back in 1957, he had been told to make the advertising on his wagon bilingual, so he had "patates frites" written on the curb site of his truck, and "french fries" on the three other sides.

Joe Sheskay's trucks were blue and yellow, just like Glen would eventually use. Joe stayed in the business into the 1980s, and sadly died in a car crash in 1986.

Glen's on Richmond Road

Glen Sheskay had spent his entire life around chip wagons, so it is no surprise that the then-34 year old opened a chip wagon in 1982 at the Canadian Tire on Richmond Road, at the corner of Patricia.  Initially Glen's was located in the parking lot, but soon after relocated onto Richmond Road in front of the main doors. 

Mid-1980s photo of Glen's parked in front of Canadian Tire
on Richmond Road (from a July 1995 article)

The iconic blue and yellow truck became a mainstay outside the Canadian Tire.

Glen's became successful right away, and rocketed to the top of many people's lists as the best in Ottawa (apparently because they are cooked in Tenderflake lard, one of the few wagons to do so, even to this day - or at least, I assume they still do). By the late 1980s, the Citizen was running annual "best chip wagon in Ottawa" surveys, and Glen's was always at or near the top. (I suspect that would still be the case in 2019.)

Meanwhile, Glen's older brother Frank operated Frank's Fabulous French Fries on Gloucester Street behind L'Esplanade Laurier. He too had a blue and yellow truck, which was still in operation a few years ago (I don't know if it still is). 

2009 photo of Frank's Fabulous Fries, operated by Frank Sheskay

By 1986, street food vendors had become quite popular. Where there had been 500 in 1975, the number had increased to 1,300, including more than 150 chipwagons. A newspaper article detailed that though french fries contain necessary thiamine and vitamin C, it comes at the high price of calories. "A baked potato contains 93 calories per 100 grams; a boiled potato 86; 106 for mashed potatoes thanks to the added milk or margarine; while 100 grams of fries contains 315 calories thanks to the oil they're cooked in. An impromptu Agriculture Canada survey for the Citizen revealed that the average box of fries from a local wagon contained 27 chips (185 grams) with almost 600 calories per box. Noted that's the equivalent of 6 glasses of Coca Cola or 12 Oreo cookies." 

In October 1986, Glen spoke at city hall committee defending chip wagons, when council was considering putting restrictions on street vendors, citing that they were an "eyesore, block sidewalks, create litter and present unfair opposition to stores selling the same merchandise." 

In December of 1989, pressure began to mount against Glen's, as it was perceived his truck was a safety hazard for both cars and school children crossing to get to Hilson School. Alderman Mark Maloney made it a pet project to force Glen out. Apparently there was a resident who had "pulled out of the Canadian Tire parking lot and was hit by an oncoming car he couldn't see because of the chipwagon." And reportedly there were multiple residents who complained that the truck was parked too close to the crosswalk and to the Canadian Tire lot.

March 1990 Ottawa CItizen photo

At first Maloney had signs put in on the north side of Richmond turning the block into a no-stopping zone. The president of the Hilson PTA asked for enforcement as well, so Maloney asked parking control to enforce the bylaw. "Parents are really concerned about their children's safety. I'm not going to let the City of Ottawa have the blood of some kid on its hands.", said Maloney. Glen began receiving tickets, but continued to park there. Meanwhile Gerry Burtt, Ottawa's chief transportation engineer had harsher words, "He's flagrantly disobeying the law. He acts like he owns the spot". The City threatened to revoke his vendor's license if he didn't move.

In early 1990, Glen began a petition, which had more than 1000 signatures from customers. He also wrote a well-written Letter to the Editor which ran in the Ottawa Citizen in late March.

Glen's letter to the Citizen - March 28, 1990

By the end of March, police had come by and threatened a $500 fine and towing away the truck if he didn't move. So Glen had no choice but to move across the street to a legal spot. "What I lose is the impulse buyer from Canadian Tire, the customer who comes out with money still in his hand", said Glen at the time. "I have a family to support, and employees, things might happen where I have to drop people. It's going to be tough."

Though Glen's likely experienced a drop in business, this spot is where Glen's remains to this day, 29 years later!

Here's a shot of old Richmond Road, a way a lot of us miss it to be, with the Canadian Tire, lush fields of Hilson, and no condo canyon.

Familiar old view - September 2007

(Google StreetView)

In 1993, the City was once again getting involved with food trucks, and was considering options to better formalize their locations by designating locations to specific trucks. The growth of street trucks had been unrestricted, and had grown from 260 in 1987 to 340 in 1993. There were issues with crowding of sidewalks and roads, as well as even fistfights between competing vendors. The economic affairs committee were looking at how they would allocate locations - by either auction, lottery, seniority or "a bid for the location of the vendor's choice." Most of the long-time wagons wanted the seniority option, as there was concern that Glen could use his prime location that he had spent over ten years building up. "I've spent years building up the business in this location, making personal contacts and gaining customers that trust me and my product, and now they want me to move?", he told the media. "People don't spend years of their life building a business so that the next day someone else can come along and take it away". Vendors were also worried about auctions for locations, as they felt that big chains such as McDonalds or Burger King would bid on the spots just to get rid of the chip wagons. Thankfully, the city went with a solution involving seniority to drive where the trucks could park, and Glen's remained in his spot.

At some point in the late 1990s, Glen opened up a seasonal truck that was briefly parked on Carling Avenue near Clyde Avenue I think. It was there only for a year or two, until it was relocated to the Canadian Tire parking lot in Kanata, where it stayed for many years. It has the same blue and yellow colour scheme. I'm not sure it's still there, or if Glen himself has any involvement in it.

2012 photo (courtesy of Yelp)

Glen himself retired sometime in the mid-90s. My Dad was a regular client of the truck, he was there probably weekly for lunch during the week, and I have lots of memories of going with my Dad to Canadian Tire on a Saturday morning, and bringing home fries for the family for lunch. Glen was very kind and generous, super nice to me as a kid. Every year around Christmas, he'd give us our order for free, and I'm sure he probably did that for dozens of customers as well. Though admittedly, my Dad probably single-handedly put Glen's kids through University :)  I recall Glen telling my Dad that he was having severe back issues and couldn't keep up the daily grind of running the truck. I believe at first he had employees take over most days (I remember Francine was his assistant in the truck for many years), and later his brother Frank ran things for a while, with Glen taking the occasional shift. But by around 2001 Glen was out of the business, and I believe sold the truck to the current operators. I still go to Glen's a few times a year, but I'm sorry to say I don't know the current owners well enough to even say I know their names! 

November 2007 photo courtesy of FoodiePrints blog. The
truck is still unchanged in 2019.

The old sitting area, also from November 2007. It's a lot more
overgrown these days. (Photo courtesy of FoodiePrints blog)

I think it's cool that the truck is still called Glen's, and that something as simple as a chip wagon can become a key part of the fabric of the community. Nearing 40 years in the location, I think a lot of people in our community would agree that hopefully it never disappears. I sure hope Glen is doing well these days, and enjoying the legacy that he created... he certainly is not forgotten in the neighbourhood, and it's awesome that his name lives on!