July 27, 2003 Arrow memories fly a new Barry's Bay park honours the pilot By MARK BONOKOSKI -- Toronto Sun
BARRY'S BAY - In a very real sense, it is the tale of two old men - one who was honoured here yesterday as one of Canada's aviation heroes, and the other who was simply honoured to have been a part of the hero's history.
One of them set the skies alight with his aerobatics and test-pilot skills; the other had the sad task of virtually turning out the lights forever when a prime minister named John Diefenbaker closed the doors on a dream coming true.
Joe Foley is the "other" old man in this story. He is my father-in-law, and he is 91 - arriving here in his wheelchair, his daughter Karen at his side, and proudly wearing his Avro Arrow ball cap, a giveaway to the reason for his presence in this Ottawa Valley town on this very special day.
Jan Zurakowski is the hero, of course. He is 88, sick with leukemia, but he managed a few words yesterday as a park in this Renfrew County town was dedicated in his honour.
This is where Zurakowski came when the wings were clipped on the Avro Arrow project, to this town of 1,200 founded at the turn of the last century by a proud contingent of Polish and Irish settlers. If his plane were to never fly again, neither would he.
So he opened a tourist lodge near here, and tried to forget a piece of history that should not be forgotten.
It was on Feb 20, 1959, that the president of A. V. Roe Canada's Avro Arrow project in Malton went on the company's public-address system and announced that the Avro Arrow supersonic interceptor jet program had been scuttled by the Tory federal government of the time, putting some 13,000 employees out of work.
"You shall cease all work immediately," the president said. "Terminate all subcontractors, all orders, and instruct all your suppliers to take similar actions."
Joe Foley, then a tool-and-die-maker in this late 40s, went home to his wife and teenaged daughter in Bolton, put on his slippers, and wondered what life had dished out.
The next morning, the telephone rang.
A. V. Roe management wanted him to stay on - to help clean up the carnage of an ahead of its time military jet being cut up into pieces, its design plans destroyed, and its section of the plant put into mothballs.
And then, when it was over, Joe Foley virtually turned out the lights on the Avro wing of the plant, and then stayed on as the company's downsized work force went back to other projects until it was sold to de Havilland in 1962.
That phone call, however, enabled Joe Foley to make it to his retirement years. He was one of the lucky ones.
But he never forgot - nor did he entirely forgive - John Diefenbaker for what his government did. "We will never know what might have been," he said.
Jan Zurakowski came to Canada in 1952, a celebrated World War II fighter pilot who flew with the Polish Air Force before fleeing to England to fight with allied forces in the Battle of Britain, flying Spitfires and bagging three German fighters in dogfights over Europe.
When he landed in Canada, he also landed in the cockpit as the chief test pilot for the Avro Arrow until the Diefenbaker government decided the future of the country's primary defence system during the tensions of the Cold War was not an investment in jet fighters, but perhaps in the missiles the United States was actively developing.
It was the blackest day in Canada's aviation history.
Joe Foley came to Canada by boat in 1920, as an 8-year-old orphan from England. He landed on a farm run by the Roman Catholic Church near Ottawa, where everyone spoke French, but not a word of English.
One day, he heard a visiting priest say something in English, and that priest became his ticket out - to another farm near Bolton, the town north of Toronto he made his home and which led him, one day, to a job at A. V. Roe.
A humble man...
Zurakowski Park is located in the very centre of this town. Unveiled yesterday was a life-size statue of the man who test flew the Avro Arrow, and pushed its envelope to nearly twice the speed of sound. There is large-scale replica of that famed aircraft, as well. In time, there will also be a museum and tourist pavilion to fill in the blanks as memories dim.
"I am very old, 88, and very sick actually, very weak," Zurakowski told the crowd, as the rain began to fall. "And I don't think I deserve all this."
Very sick, yes; very humble, too.
It is safe to say the whole town turned out, and more. The streets were packed. Politicians, representatives of air forces both domestic and foreign, a Mountie in red serge, Poland's ambassador to Canada - they were all there when Ottawa's Michael Potter, founder of the Cognos tech firm, broke through the rain clouds in his vintage Spitfire as a tribute to the old man below who flew a Spitfire when the plane was young and the world was at war.
Those who truly still remember the Avro Arrow are all now old, of course - like Zurakowski, himself, made frail by cancer, his 89th birthday a month and a half away.
And Joe Foley, 91 last January, and who only left the town of Bolton because his only daughter and only grandchild - my wife, and our daughter - moved to Ottawa in 1991, and he could not stand to be apart from them.
They are two old men, however, who share a bond beyond their age, and that is their link to a Canadian-made jet fighter so far ahead of its time that it was given no time at all.
Here, however, it will be remembered forever in a park bearing Janus Zurakowski's name.
Where a replica of the Avro Arrow points towards the sky where it not only belonged, but truly would have owned.
Reach Bono at 416-947-2445 or e-mail mark.bonokoski@tor.sunpub.com. Bonokoski writes Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. |