1. Toronto's most enchanting romantic mystery began on this day in 1928.

Let me tell you the tale of Meryl Dunsmore's secret admirer…

2. It all started 93 years ago, when Meryl Dunsmore was 16 years old — a high school student at Central Commerce. (It's Central Toronto Academy today.)

That year on Valentine's Day, she got a card from a secret admirer.

3. At first, she didn't think much of it. It was clearly a prank; the playful message called her a snob. She figured it must be one of her brother's friends.

"The odd one would ask me out sometimes," she later remembered, "and I'd always say, 'No, I've got my own friends.'"

4. But the next year, another valentine arrived. And another one the year after that. Still anonymous. Still mysterious. And that was just the beginning.

The cards kept coming year after year. And in time, they became much more romantic.

5. Even when Dunsmore grew up & got married, the valentines didn't stop coming.

She moved six times: from the Beaches to Midland Ave to Kingston Rd... and they kept coming.

She got divorced & remarried... and they kept coming.

She became a grandmother... and they kept coming.

6. The valentines were arriving from all over the world — somewhere new every year: Paris, Tokyo, Sweden, New Zealand, Hong Kong, Barbados, Morocco, Norway, Australia…

Only one card came with a Canadian postmark. It was sent from the Yukon.

7. There were big red hearts and Cupids and pop-up cards and drawings of beautiful flowers. When a valentine arrived from Puerto Rico, it was written in Spanish. There was even a German-speaking cartoon hippo.

(pic via: @torontolibrary)

8. From Costa Rica in 1976: "I don’t know where I'll be on Valentine's Day, but I'll be thinking of you."

From Amsterdam in 1977: "My very dear Meryl, here's hoping that this year will bring us together."

From Australia in 1983: "Keeping my name under cover, it's true."

9. It went on like this decade after decade, but the secret admirer remained a secret. The cards were always signed with something cryptic like "Guess Who" or "Me Again" or "Your Valentine". Sometimes even just a single tantalizing question mark.

10. Even her husband was impressed. "If my secret admirer came to our door," Meryl explained, "Alex would say, 'Come on in and have a drink for all the lovely cards you've been sending.'"

Alex agreed: "It never bothered me once. I've got the finest wife a man could ever have."

11. There'd been more than 40 valentines by the time the story was picked up by the Toronto Star. It became a staple of the paper's annual Valentine's Day coverage.

Torontonians began looking out for the updates, caught up in the mystery of Meryl Dunsmore's secret admirer.

12. "Don't ask me how he does it;" she told them, "I have no way of knowing."

She did have her theories, of course. Maybe it *was* one of her brother's friends. Or a pilot who travelled the world. It might even be a woman. And there was a story about a heartbroken sailor...

13. She had met the sailor as a teenager. He went off to sail the Great Lakes, promising to write — only to have his messages intercepted by her disapproving mother.

They say he even showed up at the front door on Meryl's wedding day, but her mother turned him away.

14. Still, not even that theory made complete sense. Why wouldn’t her mother destroy the valentines, too? Why keep his identify a secret at first, when his feelings were clear? And why not reveal himself later in life, or during the time when she was divorced?

15. For her part, Dunsmore was happy to live with the mystery. "I don’t really mind not knowing," she told the Star. "I'm just happy he keeps remembering me. I hope he doesn’t stop."

And whoever it was never did.

(pic via: @torontolibrary)

16. Meryl Dunsmore died at the age of 76.

By then, it was 1988. The valentine tradition had lasted a full 60 years, through the Great Depression, the Second World War, the arrival of television and space travel and computers…

And there was one last Valentine to come.

17. Five minutes before Meryl Dunsmore's funeral began, a final gift arrived: a basket of yellow and green flowers accompanied by a card, one last message from the secret admirer who had wooed her over all those years.

The message read simply: "Rest in peace, my Valentine."

Thanks so much for reading!

If you'd like to check out more stories about the romantic history of Toronto, my new book is available at all the usual places — including your favourite local bookshop. https://spacingstore.ca/products/the-toronto-book-of-love