One of my earliest childhood memories was watching my father roll up in his old 1956 Chevrolet to the front of the Lesko home on their family farm northeast of Winnipeg.
My much older near teenage brothers Wayne and Larry excitedly exited the vehicle and raced to cousins Brian and Sid, who were close to their age. They proceeded to do what young boys do. As for me, I could not have been more than three. I was, understandably, left to fend for myself. That was well over a half century ago. That is all I can remember.
But this short fleeting memory nagged me for decades. I never knew my family.
Eight years ago, as I just finished a five-year heritage photography project, it dawned on me during a backroad trip the Brokenhead district, northeast of Winnipeg, was where my family first settled 150 years ago. Adam Yadlowski was the first, and then came his son – my great-grandfather Frank. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know more about me.
I knew I had cousins in the Winnipeg area but other than a few short introductions at the odd family funeral I didn’t know any of them. My life for so long had been one of a wayward rolling stone, priorities always elsewhere.
I remembered one name, and it was Brian Lesko. I Google-searched his name. His phone number was listed. I made the call.
For nearly an hour Brian and I talked. This kind and thoughtful man knew the family history inside and out, having started a family genealogy project. I immediately jumped on board, and for the next seven years I made an annual pilgrimage to Manitoba, to learn more and more. Along the way I met many other cousins, including Patti Leegsma, whose never-ending kindness to me is beyond anything this scribbler can ever put into the right words.
Last week I went to the Lesko family farm, which is now lovingly cared for and occupied by Brian’s daughter Nicole and fiancé Blaine, for a surprise 70th birthday party for Brian. There was no way I was missing it.
It was an amazing celebration in every way. Dozens of family members came to honour Brian’s milestone day, regaling the glorious good old days, the one at hand and the ones ahead.
And I was there, casting away any jitters and being part of, loved and accepted.
That kid in the old Chevrolet from a half century ago was finally inside.
Johnnie Bachusky is the editor of the Innisfail Province.
