Roy Kostuk, My Friend
I would like to share some
anecdotes about one of my best friends, Roy Kostuk. He was born and raised in Toronto’s Parkdale
neeighbourhood was an only child. His
mom was a sample maker at Eclipse Uniform,
which is the most important person in a sewing plant. Her skill was so great
that she was given the task of sewing the perfect dresses for the famous Dionne
Quintuplets. His dad was a fine cabinet maker, apprenticing in Ukraine, but honed his craft in the
finest furniture stores in Toronto.
Roy attended Parkdale Collegiate, where he loved to play football, then University of Toronto,
where he graduated in Law in 1960. He married Irene Snihura, a pharmacist,
musician and mother of their two lovely children, Mary Ann and Roy, Jr.
I always admired him when he spoke to his children. Even though he was born in Canada, he only spoke to his kids
in Ukrainian. At the time, this was not in vogue, as it is today, Roy was extremely
practical, and a very funny man. My wife Anne and I would often spend evenings
together with him and his wife Irene, at our respective chalets at Beaver
Valley Ski Club, laughing until the wee hours of the morning. Roy was a born
entertainer, with a very dry sense of humour.
These
are some story’s that come to mind when I think of my friend.
Roy was the first baby to be born in 1932, and always felt the great city
of Toronto
should give him some special status, which they did. He would
always remind anyone who would listen, with
his great wit, “I was the first kid to be born in Toronto [in that year], and all I got was a slap on the rear.”
When I
started my business, I bought an old truck, but within a few years I purchased
a brand new white one, with my new Topper logo painted all over it. At the
time, this purchase was costly for a small businessman. I was
proud of my new truck. I was out making
deliveries one day, and was hit in the rear by a taxi. I was very upset, but
the taxi driver was an Eastern European immigrant who begged me not to call police,
and said he would pay out of his pocket. I felt sorry for this new immigrant to
Canada, and agreed He didn’t pay as
agreed. I had a smashed truck and wanted it fixed. That’s when I met Roy at my friend Sam’s
restaurant when I was making a delivery one day. Sam introduced us and said Roy is a lawyer. I sat
down immediately, and asked Roy for his help to
pursue this taxi company for my money. Roy agreed. We immediately drove to the
office of the taxi company, and Roy
threatened and screamed, reciting some law
and precedent, claiming that we would begin proceedings to sue immediately. The
taxi company wanted the two of us out of their office and quickly gave me a
cheque. Then Roy and I left promptly. Back in my truck, Roy nervously lights a cigarette and says,
“wow that was a close one.” I said “close what?” He blurted out “I am
not a lawyer yet. I have not written my final bar exams.” I was flabbergasted
at the conviction and confidence he had, but I had my money. We laughed all the
way back to Sam’s restaurant. I was his first client, and we became life-long
friends.
Another
time, our restaurant-owner friend Sam, a Western Canada Ukrainian from Manitoba, would
take a group of “the boys” duck hunting every fall. Sam’s wife had a deserted
family farm near Kaladar, Ontario, with lots of swamps, which is good
for ducks. We went for many years there together. As the area we hunted was
huge, it was very easy to get confused, or even lost. After a hunt one morning,
we returned back to the farm house, and Roy
said to me he had stood exactly where I had hunted last year. Both Sam and I
laughed our heads off saying that was impossible. The swamp is huge, changes
every year, and dense with scrub bush. Roy
immediately put on his lawyer’s cape, and defended himself, saying he could
prove it without a doubt. The “boys” where
standing around drinking coffee, laughing all the way, because the
entertainment was about to begin. Roy
asked me what my occupation was. I explained I owned a linen supply/laundry
service, which he damn well knew. He then asked me whether I use any old towels
or napkins for anything other than for their intended use. Well, I new
immediately that he had me. I always carried a few white rags in my pocket
while hunting, just in case my morning
constitution called, and I couldn’t wait. Roy
went to his spot in the marsh, and
when the sun rose, he noticed a white “shmata” on the ground. Obviously, that
is exactly what happened last hunting
season. I had used my rag, and left it there. Roy had me again because, remember, he was a lawyer, and would take notice of some
“bum wiping shmata” on the ground.
That was his job. He was an expert and well-trained.
There was a serious side to Roy as well. He was very
proud of his Ukrainian roots, “his” people, and the hardships we as a nation
have endured. As a lawyer, he often assisted
new Ukrainians to Canada
who couldn’t speak the language, but most importantly, were not able to
afford a lawyer and scared of the system. Communism was like a cancer to Roy.
He hated it more than the people who were born into it. These are the
individuals he opened his heart to, always providing words of wisdom, legal
expertise, or even financial assistance. His passion for Ukrainian music led
him to produce many records of great Ukrainian artists. These he believed were
ageless and would endure the test of time. The Ukrainian National Federation of
Canada benefited greatly from his legal expertise while he was on the Toronto
Executive, as Board Director, then as first Canadian-born National President.
He incorporated all the new by-laws for Beaver Valley Ski Club in its
infancy in 1966. It was a new ski club,
started by Ukrainians, and he wanted more of his own people to enjoy this great
winter wonderland.
Roy was my friend, but he had many friends too! He kept
us in laughter, thinking of legal consequences,
and kept all of us Ukrainian together.
I will
miss him.
Edward Topornicki,
Toronto
NP – Roy Michael Kostuk, QC,
peacefully passed away on February 1, 2011, at the Ukrainian Canadian Care
Centre in Toronto.