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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
For years, numerous people have prodded and encouraged me to write my autobiography, but I always found it awkward thinking about such a project. Perhaps it was modesty, combined with my suspicion of my own writing and a reluctance to take on such a large project at this time in my life. I know my former law partner, Jack Millar, had planned to write my biography, but his untimely death in 1992 prevented it. Thus it was unlikely this project would ever get done. Yet among those encouraging me was Alastair Summerlee, president of the University of Guelph, of which I am chancellor. What differentiated Alastair from the others is that he would not take no for an answer; finally, in the summer of 2005, he convinced me to move forward with this book. Consequently, I have him and the University of Guelph heading the list of those I must acknowledge and thank for their boundless support in this undertaking.
I must say that, even as we moved through what seemed like an endless series of interviews and voluminous research, I was moderately enthused at best. Perhaps that was from being immersed in so much detail that it was difficult to see beyond. Then, however, as I began to go through the first drafts of the manuscript with Herb Shoveller, who guided me through the writing and research, the proverbial light, as it were, flashed on with a vengeance. I thought, You know, that’s not a bad story. On top of that, I was able to advocate on issues I have addressed all my life, such as racism. Thus I was energized by the experience of reading my story in print, and what was once complacency regarding the book was transformed dramatically into impatience. Now I had to wait several long months for the book to come out. Nevertheless, while I could have done without the wait, I am thrilled at how revitalizing this experience has been, and I have many others to thank for that.
In the course of writing this book we have conducted about fifty interviews with friends, family, former colleagues, and acquaintances who graciously helped flesh out my recollections of events and, in some cases, triggered some great memories I’d long since dispatched to the dustbin. From the political sphere, there were the likes of former prime minister Brian Mulroney, former MP and cabinet minister Perrin Beatty, former Ontario premier David Peterson, and many others who gave of their time and thoughts. From the business world, assistance was provided by individuals and friends such as Ed and Anne Mirvish, Greg Aziz of National Steel Car, and Richard Peddie of Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment. From the educational, cultural, and social services fields, Mort Rozanski, former president of the University of Guelph, Catherine Axford of Ontario Heritage Trust, and columnist George Gross, the champion of Variety Village, are among many who stepped forward. Similarly, an endless roster of friends, too many to mention here, provided not only comments but pictures and mementoes as well to help illustrate this story. Marge Millar, my former law partner’s widow, was exceptional in helping with memories and materials, while Drs. Alan Lane and Bill Lockington, friends to this day, provided valuable insights and memories from my trip to Africa in 1960.
Beyond directly contributing to this enterprise, there are many to thank simply for their support and encouragement over the years, such as former Ontario premier Bill Davis, former lieutenant-governors Hal Jackman and Hilary Weston, Hilary’s husband Galen Weston, and my dear, departed friend Steve Stavro.
Many others pitched in for the roll-up-your-sleeves elements of producing this book. London Free Press writer Burt Dowsett and retired Free Press copy editor Mike Smith of St. Marys added their expertise. Researcher Peter McKinley of London delivered extensive materials, with support from Maureen Ryan, government documents librarian at University of Western Ontario’s Weldon Library. Chief information officer Michael Ridley and archivist Lorne Bruce of the University of Guelph helped us sift through my seemingly infinite archives. The sports information staff at McMaster University helped us sort out my brief and not particularly brilliant university football career. Among the media sources we relied on for this book, none surpass the Hamilton Spectator for its generous assistance and access to the newspaper’s archives. In particular, Tammie Danciu and Marilyn McGrory of the Spectator library guided us expertly through mountains of material, while Howard Elliott, executive editor, ensured we would have unfettered support from the newspaper. That support was invaluable.
Closer to home — and this might seem a little over the top to some — I absolutely must thank the city of Hamilton and all its wonderful people. My decision to move here after the Second World War not only delivered my dear wife, Yvonne, it also provided a community that permitted me to pursue my dreams. As well, my dear friend and long-time neighbour Ines Freitag kept me focused on the project as necessary and shared with me arts and entertainment distractions as required. And my immediate family — son Keith, daughter-in-law Joyce, and granddaughters Erika and Marissa — not only contributed to making my memories fresh, but Joyce and the girls also assisted me in reviewing one of the final drafts of this manuscript on a spring vacation in Jamaica.
No doubt there have been stories and people missed, but in the end I am satisfied and pleased that I have completed what so many people had been asking for — my story. I owe a debt to Hamilton, Ontario, and Canada, which are glorious in enabling people to be themselves, to be free, and to do good things. That’s certainly the case with me. I’d like to hope this book can repay that debt somewhat by encouraging others to never give up pursuing the honourable goals that will continue to make this country great.
Lincoln M. Alexander
June 2006
INTRODUCTION
“Being first means you have to do more … you can’t be ordinary.”
If we are fortunate, there will be a series of memorable, critical, and invaluable experiences and events in our lives that will positively shape our outlooks, reinforce our beliefs, give us life goals, and guide us through our life journeys. I have been fortunate in that regard, as my experiences left me determined to be as good as I can be, to not be afraid to break ground or be intimidated by that overwhelming responsibility, and to not accept that my colour should inhibit my opportunities.
When my wife, Yvonne, and I travelled to Africa in 1960, the impact of that trip was overpowering, and even today it continues to resonate with me and define who I am. Race, colonialism, poverty, political turmoil, and the simplest of life’s goals for so many wonderful cultures were among the boundless issues and experiences that confronted us every day on that adventure. The trip gave me a great sense of pride in who I am as a human being and in my race, and, in so doing, it shaped and refined many of my goals in life.
It was around the time of this trip, not surprisingly, and in the ensuing years that it became clear to me that blacks could and should be national leaders, university professors, professionals of all sorts — part of the intellectual leadership. The idea of politics was never on my radar, as they say, in my university years and in my early law career. Fortuitous exposure to certain friends and colleagues changed that, leading me to become the first black member of Parliament in Canada and, eventually, the first black cabinet minister, albeit in a short-lived Joe Clark government. Cynics might contend such a first was inconsequential in the scheme of things, but I know differently. I know that from my colleagues at the time, from my constituents, and from members of the black community. It demonstrated what we are all capable of accomplishing and also what this country stands for. As well, I want to believe it served as a beacon of hope for the black community.
Fortunately, I had learned early not to fear being ahead of the pack. My determination was fuelled by my recognition from a very early age that education was the path to limitless possibility, and it has been, I think, fitting and well-suited that I was made chancellor of the
