It was something I was always proud of. My Dad, Johnny was one of the best mechanics at Dane Kane Chevrolet in Windsor, if not the best..I remember him telling me, “Anything made by man, can be fixed by man.” The harder, the tougher it was, the more he liked the challenge. On this Labour Day weekend, it’s time we recognize the hard working people of our country..People who continue to make the country work, despite eight years of Justin Trudeau's 'wedge politics.'.The politics of division. And make no mistake, we are deeply divided..East vs. West, rural vs. urban, older vs. younger, and our government finances a disaster..The drama teacher who floated into power on his dad’s name, essentially, should have never been given the keys to the PMO..A man who probably never really had to work a day in his life, and doesn’t really 'get it.'.In contrast, my Dad worked hard, damned hard his entire life..And he also played hard..On weekends, he would play the violin in his Ukrainian band, which did dozens of weddings in Detroit, mostly in Hamtramck..As a kid, they took me along for the ride, and I made the best of it. I just thought it was normal..And quite often, things would end late, usually 1 or 2 a.m., with die-hards in the crowd begging my Dad, to “play just one more Johnny.”.This was followed by coffee and sandwiches and a scary ride back through Motown..Then it was church on Sunday and back to work on Monday. A mechanic’s wage. No handouts in those days, folks. It was a battle to make a dollar..I recall one story, that encapsulates Labour Day for me..An angry customer with an expensive Cadillac was having trouble with his car..Several mechanics at Dan Kane couldn’t solve it, no matter what they tried, and the customer, some rich dude, was getting angrier.. John MakichukThe author's father, John Makichuk at Windsor Airport, early 1960s. .Finally, it went up the chain..Dan Kane called my Dad in for a meeting..“Johnny,” he said, I don’t care how long it takes you, but please fix this guy’s car. Drop everything, and get it done. Don’t take on any other jobs.”.And so, my Dad took the Caddy for a ride, noticed it had some kind of issue at high speeds and then came home..After a couple days of testing, and thinking things over — sometimes, in the middle of the night, getting up to have a glass of warm milk and sitting silently — he found the problem..It turned out to be something simple, something everyone had overlooked..Dan Kane was happy, and the customer was happy. Dad just went back to his job, as if nothing had happened..And he received no big bonus, just a pat on the back and a thank you..How many times, in a given day, does that happen? Without a strong labour force, a talented and dedicated labour force, our country would be nothing..Nor should they be vilified or have their bank accounts frozen by the government, just because their semi-truck might have a Canadian flag on it..When we built our modest new home, a bungalow, in Windsor, all my Dad’s neighbors came to help. When we took it over, it was just a shell..Uncles, friends, neighbors, everyone chipped in to help my Dad finish off our home..Even my older brother Jim, who hated manual work, chipped in to help. My Dad, the perfectionist, not ragging on him as he usually did..Dad’s Italian buddy then showed up, to pour a perfect driveway. The Italian cement workers in Windsor were the best, bar none. And they gave my Dad a big discount..And then, it was time for food, booze and music. Lots of music. My Mom in charge of the food side..Usually, sliced cheese, kielbasa, pickles, boiled eggs and Ukrainian bread. Sometimes with slivers of hot horseradish..It was a wonderful world back then, where everyone helped each other..And sometimes, there was no rest for my Dad, even on a weekend..There was always work to be done, around the house. A garage had to be built. And, inevitably, a friend would show up with a car problem..Dad would fix it in our driveway, and maybe get a bottle of whiskey in return. He refused to take any money..Followed by a beer, possibly, and maybe an Al Cherny record on the turntable..I should add, both my parents worked hard. My Mom, a short order cook at a popular diner, and sometimes also working in vegetable canning factories in Essex county..The best cook on the planet too, of course. Her cabbage rolls and pierogies exceptional..In those days, one never stopped working. Never. And a dollar went a long way..My Mom canned her own pickles, baked her own pies and cookies. Everything from scratch. Not like today..I’m sure probably, there was someone in your life, who made a similar impression on you. Someone you can be proud of on this Labour Day, circa 2023..Let’s not forget them.
It was something I was always proud of. My Dad, Johnny was one of the best mechanics at Dane Kane Chevrolet in Windsor, if not the best..I remember him telling me, “Anything made by man, can be fixed by man.” The harder, the tougher it was, the more he liked the challenge. On this Labour Day weekend, it’s time we recognize the hard working people of our country..People who continue to make the country work, despite eight years of Justin Trudeau's 'wedge politics.'.The politics of division. And make no mistake, we are deeply divided..East vs. West, rural vs. urban, older vs. younger, and our government finances a disaster..The drama teacher who floated into power on his dad’s name, essentially, should have never been given the keys to the PMO..A man who probably never really had to work a day in his life, and doesn’t really 'get it.'.In contrast, my Dad worked hard, damned hard his entire life..And he also played hard..On weekends, he would play the violin in his Ukrainian band, which did dozens of weddings in Detroit, mostly in Hamtramck..As a kid, they took me along for the ride, and I made the best of it. I just thought it was normal..And quite often, things would end late, usually 1 or 2 a.m., with die-hards in the crowd begging my Dad, to “play just one more Johnny.”.This was followed by coffee and sandwiches and a scary ride back through Motown..Then it was church on Sunday and back to work on Monday. A mechanic’s wage. No handouts in those days, folks. It was a battle to make a dollar..I recall one story, that encapsulates Labour Day for me..An angry customer with an expensive Cadillac was having trouble with his car..Several mechanics at Dan Kane couldn’t solve it, no matter what they tried, and the customer, some rich dude, was getting angrier.. John MakichukThe author's father, John Makichuk at Windsor Airport, early 1960s. .Finally, it went up the chain..Dan Kane called my Dad in for a meeting..“Johnny,” he said, I don’t care how long it takes you, but please fix this guy’s car. Drop everything, and get it done. Don’t take on any other jobs.”.And so, my Dad took the Caddy for a ride, noticed it had some kind of issue at high speeds and then came home..After a couple days of testing, and thinking things over — sometimes, in the middle of the night, getting up to have a glass of warm milk and sitting silently — he found the problem..It turned out to be something simple, something everyone had overlooked..Dan Kane was happy, and the customer was happy. Dad just went back to his job, as if nothing had happened..And he received no big bonus, just a pat on the back and a thank you..How many times, in a given day, does that happen? Without a strong labour force, a talented and dedicated labour force, our country would be nothing..Nor should they be vilified or have their bank accounts frozen by the government, just because their semi-truck might have a Canadian flag on it..When we built our modest new home, a bungalow, in Windsor, all my Dad’s neighbors came to help. When we took it over, it was just a shell..Uncles, friends, neighbors, everyone chipped in to help my Dad finish off our home..Even my older brother Jim, who hated manual work, chipped in to help. My Dad, the perfectionist, not ragging on him as he usually did..Dad’s Italian buddy then showed up, to pour a perfect driveway. The Italian cement workers in Windsor were the best, bar none. And they gave my Dad a big discount..And then, it was time for food, booze and music. Lots of music. My Mom in charge of the food side..Usually, sliced cheese, kielbasa, pickles, boiled eggs and Ukrainian bread. Sometimes with slivers of hot horseradish..It was a wonderful world back then, where everyone helped each other..And sometimes, there was no rest for my Dad, even on a weekend..There was always work to be done, around the house. A garage had to be built. And, inevitably, a friend would show up with a car problem..Dad would fix it in our driveway, and maybe get a bottle of whiskey in return. He refused to take any money..Followed by a beer, possibly, and maybe an Al Cherny record on the turntable..I should add, both my parents worked hard. My Mom, a short order cook at a popular diner, and sometimes also working in vegetable canning factories in Essex county..The best cook on the planet too, of course. Her cabbage rolls and pierogies exceptional..In those days, one never stopped working. Never. And a dollar went a long way..My Mom canned her own pickles, baked her own pies and cookies. Everything from scratch. Not like today..I’m sure probably, there was someone in your life, who made a similar impression on you. Someone you can be proud of on this Labour Day, circa 2023..Let’s not forget them.
