The Happy Camper: The Maitland Tower is Where History Meets Nature for a Better Future
Nine years ago, Philip Ling, an electrical engineer and nature-nut philanthropist living in Toronto, decided to visit one of his sons who was at Dalhousie in New Brunswick. Rather than drive the 2,000 kilometres, he decided to bike all the way there. The trip was spawned due to a horrific bicycle accident while training for a triathlon. Philip needed some clarity in life after healing his wounds and thought a good bike ride would help; a kind of getting back on the horse, as they say.
On his journey, Philip biked along the County Road #2, through the small town of Maitland, between Brockville and Prescott, and caught a glimpse of a dilapidated 80-foot flour mill tower surrounded by older aged buildings and 13 acres of undeveloped land along the north shore of the St. Lawerence.
He stopped to gawk up at the stone tower, originally built back in 1828 as a windmill, and—literally on a whim—decided he wanted to buy the buildings and property around it. His dreamscape impulse was a simple one… to save the site from destruction and future development of more condominiums along the St. Lawerence and renew the property into “a place of transformation, where nature and humanity meet, heal, thrive and move into the future together.”
His wife, Linda Frenette-Ling, and four children, tried to convince him otherwise. But not long after his bike ride, Philip returned to the quaint village of Maitland along the St. Lawerence and did purchase the 200-year-old tower and the elongated stretch of land around it. His focus at the time, and still remains, is “Leading while Remembering.”
I had the privilege to visit the Maitland Tower site and chat with Philip. He’s definitely a visionary. This place is far beyond a roadside interest. Yes, the tower is cool; an historical centrepiece that witnessed entrepreneurship, war, rebellions, tariffs and bootlegging. There’s also an incredible echo of a raven that’s now took up residence inside the tower.
But Philip has also restored the outer buildings. The first he showed me was what he calls the Dirty Paws Lab. It’s an old tractor shed changed over into a straw insulated open-space laboratory where young tech minds gather to solve environmental issues. The latest group set up here were students working for the River Institute, a Cornwall-based non‐government organization established in 1994 as a unique community partnership among governments, educators, business and industry and the Mohawks of Akwesasne. It has a great view of the St. Lawerence, an aquamarine-coloured floor, and a privately commissioned painting of actor Bill Murray with fish covering his eyes. Philip says it reminds him of Jacques Cousteau and the movie The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. It’s an amazing place where young minds gather and make change happen.
Then there’s the Grotto; a natural stone foundation that was discovered during restorations of the tower. It has an almost church-like quality to it, with a wooden arched ceiling, flooring made from the ash that died on the property from the emerald ash borer invasion and refurbished stain glass doors from some demolished well-known Toronto restaurant-chain. It’s a meeting place for politicians and environmentalists to chat about positive change, from alternative energy to the health of the St. Lawerence watershed.
There’s also the old horse stable that he’s changing over to become “a school for mentors to teach, actors to rehearse, plays to be workshopped, set designers to build.” Philip also adds that it’s a great place to host a wedding. After all, he has to gain an income somehow. Projects in arts and science never pay the bills.
The acreage that surrounds the old manor is rich with old-growth oak, stout pine, a bubbling brook, organic gardens, bee boxes, a green-house and the weathered shoreline of the St. Lawerence.
Philip calls this place the HippoCampus. It’s like a university campus but not. It’s less formal and more inviting. The name is derived from the Greek words hippo (horse) and camps (sea monster), bestowed by 16th-century anatomist Julius Caesar Aranzi, who was struck by its resemblance to the curved form like a seahorse set deep inside the brain’s temporal lobes. Philip believes the hippocampus is “responsible for memory consolidation, the process of converting fragile, short-term memories into stable, long-term ones that are then stored in other areas of the cerebral cortex.”
That fits the Maitland Tower place to a T.
The HippoCampus has a great vibe to it. It’s not a compulsive place where you would want to grab an Instagram selfie and move on to yet another engaging backdrop picture. In fact, it’s a privately stewarded place where like-minded people are invited for a visit. It’s a healing place for nature and people. It’s a place that was saved from bulldozers and now free to amalgamate nature, science, art, history, culture, food, recreation, adventure, health and more.
And it’s all because a long-distance bicycle rider, Philip Ling, stopped to look at an old tower during his journey east and fell in love with the prospect of creating a gathering place for the future generation who aim to make a positive environmental change to our planet.
Check out my video interview with Philip Ling at the Maitland Tower on my KCHappyCamper YouTube channel:
