Drive north up Forhan Street in Wallaceburg. Just after you cross the Stewart Line, look west. 

You could never know it now, but that farmer’s field was once a thriving airport, known as Seneca Air Services Ltd. 

It’s hard to believe but, because it had charter services to multiple U.S. destinations, that airport, with just a 500-metre long grass airstrip, was an “international” airport. 

Walk westward along the north side of Wallace Street, from the Lou Stonehouse walking bridge to the western edge of the vacant lot 200 metres away. As you walk along, look north, to the mighty Sydenham River. 

Until 1969, that stretch of land was home to the R. Warwick and Son lumber yard. A solid, two-storey, brick building — the showroom, hardware store and office for the business — once stood in the parking lot beside present-day Harbour Court Apartments. 

Stretching from the edge of that building to the west side of the vacant lot,  right up against the edge of the sidewalk, were the wooden lumber sheds.    

So, what does a long-gone airport and lumber yard have to do with wooden ships and German prisoners of war?  

The answer to that question starts at 9:12 a.m., March 4, less than one day after my story, War Comes to Sombra: A story of Ariel Mann — where Ariel Mann recalled seeing German POWs working on her uncle’s farm, near Becher, and saluting warplanes flying from Selfridge Field in Michigan — was posted to the Courier Press website.   

That day, I received an email from Dr. Bruce Warwick of Chatham that read, in part, “My grandfather in Cedar Springs had several German prisoners who worked in his fields. They built him several wooden ship models (I have them) and named them after my grandmother and father.” 

I could not believe my eyes when I........

© Sarnia Observer