As you all know, my father was a man with a strong opinions and action. He told Mama that he wanted to marry her just a week after knowing her. He set his mind on getting a good education and learned English, finished High School and two engineering degrees directly after the war ended, graduating top of his class. He led complex engineering projects that all are still standing today. He even insisted the swing set he installed for Daria & Jack have a 3 foot foundation. And he helped navigate the lives of Teresa & I, his son-in-laws, Wally & Chris and his grandchildren, Jack and Daria. You always knew where he stood on every subject and he didn’t hold back.
He was equally clear that he wanted no fuss in the events of his passing and wanted a small gathering of his closest friends. With that in mind, we’re very honoured to have you here, some of your representing entire families, with us today.
Most of you knew our father as well as we did. He had an amazing life, one which my generation can not even fathom. And it seems that he, like a cat, had nine lives.
He lost his first life as a precocious child at the age of 10, when he was climbing trees birch trees to cut branches so he could make sap wine. Unfortunately, the tall ladder fell, as did he. He was lying unconscious when his sister Teresa found him. They rushed him (as fast as a horse and buggy could take you) to the local pharmacist. The journey was not short, and while they were gone, his mother and sisters prayed dutifully for his young life. Fortunately, by the time he and his father had arrived for help he had recovered and his father was so thankful that the men decided to stay for some drinks to celebrate. Without phones, the family at home thought that the extended departure meant all was lost and were already mourning my father’s death. Of course, by the time they got home and it was found that all was fine, cross words were shared, but my father always thought this was hilarious – he really did have a wicked sense of humor.
His childhood was cut short in February 1940, when millions of Poles were deported to gulags in Siberia. At the time, my grandfather had already been sent to a Prisoner of War camp, where he did not survive, and at 15, Tata became the “Man of the House”. To say the least, the conditions in Siberia were perilous and he was sent to work collecting lumber in freezing rivers and was often on the verge on starvation. Amazingly, he survived, but sadly, his mother did not. Life two.
His Life #3 was used shortly after as he led his three young siblings the from Siberia to Uzbekistan. He spoke seldom about this, as the conditions in the cattle cars and the long trek through Russia were horrific, but as people around then died, the Orzechowski children managed to survive the journey of many months. We only found out somewhat recently how much of a hero he was to his siblings when our Uncle John passed away. The American flag on the coffin is in fact my Uncle John’s, who was a US war veteran. It was bestowed to him at his military funeral, but Uncle had the express wishes that our father received the flag in honour of his heroism to his family during this time. My father was so touched, that he requested other flags to be at his own service –two representing his home countries, Canada and Poland and a British flag in recognition for being part of the Polish division of the British army.
Now, when they finally arrived in Uzbekistan, where they were forming the Polish army, my dad knew that as orphans they would receive extra help if they were deemed a military family. So, given his age, he tried to join the Polish Cadets, only to be turned away. I recall him mentioning that this is the first time he was truly dis-hearted and broke down in tears. But, determined and dutiful, he joined the line for the Army and lied about his age. At 16 years old and barely a 100 lbs wet he became a soldier, spending the rest of the war marching and fighting on the front line through Italy. For the rest of the war, his siblings were safe and cared for in India.
Of course, the war counts for a few lives. We’ll give him another just for being surviving the front line at Monte Cassino, where 55K allies perished. But there were other more specific close calls.
He spoke of a time when he and his officer dug a ditch so they could sit low & set up their radio equipment. Little did they know that the Germans had previously dug a ditch a few meters away. As they sat in their hole, a bomb fell in between the two ditches. Miraculously it did not detonate, but did blast the dirt and they were buried several feet deep. Afraid to move, just in case the bomb would explode, they sat motionless for an extremely long time, before the had the nerve to dig themselves out. That’s #5
Number six was another war time experience. He joked that he had always been a sound sleeper. One night, when the Germans were many miles away, he slept in an armoured car situated beside an Italian country home. When he awoke, refreshed, he found that the house was blown to smithereens, yet his sleep was never disturbed.
Yet despite all these harrowing experiences, after the war ended, he strived with determination and hope to build a new life. First in England where he finished his education, fell in love with our mother and started his own family with Teresa.
When they settled in Canada, they continued to build their nest with my arrival and all was well for many years. He became a devoted family man and focused on his career. But there still left much time for he and our mother to enjoy the company of their many friends to play bridge or get dressed up for Parties. You could always find him on the dance floor.
You all know of his success as an Engineer, but I have to think that we should count his work on the CNTower as another close call #7 on his life. As one of the key Engineers on the project he had to do sight visits often – going the top of the tower in an outside open crate elevator that swung in the wind. Say no more.
My father, all in all, had rather good health, but in his 80’s, he experienced heart trouble and even contracted sepsis at one point. In fact, I was with him once in the hospital when he passed out and manual CPR was performed on him. With 7 stints and a strong disposition, he kept on ticking and survived this 8th life.
For the many years, thankfully, life was peaceful and full of much joy. He was a committed and loving husband of 72 years to our Mother and ensured that she join him on every international engineering project and conference. The years in Indonesia and the Filipins where no doubt a highlight of both their lives. In fact, he honours that time, even now, by wearing his favourite Indonesian shirt. He was devoted to our mother and ever dutiful, we feel that he was strong for so many years for her. It was not until he knew she was safely settled at Copernicus that he finally let go.
Without question his happy place was in Planty, our cottage in Kaszuby, and especially being with his baby brother, our Uncle John. Where they shared much laughter and a lively debate or two. The prayer card, is in fact a view from our cottage, with Tata’s fishing boat awaiting him. A typical day would be to wake in the dark to go fishing. Catch a bunch of fish. Wake us all up at dawn to see the fish. Take pictures of us holding the fish. Make porridge. Make us eat his porridge. Then spend the day fixing up the cottage. Perhaps get in a round of golf. Prepare and cook the fish they caught, and then host bonfires at night. The stuff made of dreams.
But even more joyful for my father was the time spent with Daria & Jack – anywhere. They were his pride and joy. This man, who never suffered fools, all of a sudden became as soft as a marshmallow. Playing on the floor, watching Pingu, and having the patience of a saint – even when fishing lines were tangled or when many cookies were shoved into his VCR.
He instilled in us a deep devotion to family, a commitment to hard work, the importance of honesty, the value of money and an unrelenting sense of humour. Now at 96 years, he was ready to go and we’re grateful for the time that we all spent with him. Nine lines well-lived.
Ania Kordiuk
