Percy New

 On January 20, 1954, the day of his scheduled retirement, Percy New went to work as a Customs Officer at the Ambassador Bridge in Windsor, Ontario. Then, as now, it was the busiest border crossing between Canada and the United States. On his last day on the job, Percy was to inspect and clear transport trucks coming into Windsor from Detroit.

Because it was his last day, he had a note in his pocket, a goodbye message he had written in the days leading up to his final shift. He had taken an extension of service to work for an extra year after his 65th birthday, and that extension brought him to this final January morning. He was looking forward to retirement with his wife of 33 years; they had planned a trip to Florida, a first for the couple. He would also get to spend more time with his new grandchildren, and become more involved with his church.

It had been - ultimately - a good life for Percy New. Born into privation, he survived trench warfare as a soldier, raised a young family through the Depression, and settled into the community as a husband, father and steward at his local church.

After clearing a truck for entry into Canada, Percy and a co-worker were walking across the apron of the Ambassador Bridge Customs compound when another truck struck the pair. The co-worker was slightly injured; Percy New was killed instantly. The gifts that his co-workers bought for his retirement were instead given to his widow. The farewell note that was to have been read at his farewell party was instead read at his funeral.

Percy was born into the grime of industrial North London in 1888, the youngest of five children. From the get-go, his life wasn't easy. His father died of typhoid fever when Percy was three years old, and his mother Mary - in poor health herself - struggled to feed and house the family while working as a 'domestic'. When a charity visited the household, they found Mary and her family  "looking ill and badly in need of food."

Widowed and living in squalor, Percy's mother surrendered him to the custody of the charity, Dr. Barnardo's Homes. In turn-of-the-century Britain, any 'social safety net' consisted of the goodness of the community at large. Dr. Barnardo's Homes had been established to rescue poor children from a life of poverty and hard labour. When they were old enough, the children were sent into the English countryside - or, often, to Canada - to give them a chance at a 'better life'. That better life had not yet arrived for Percy: at the age of four, he was placed in the St. Joseph & St. Anne Orphanage.

When he was 12, Percy was sent to far-off Canada to work as an apprentice farm hand. It was an unhappy trip, and an unhappy 'situation'; his first placement was with a family which took the term 'indentured servitude' quite literally. Years later, and only once, he would tell one of his daughters about the night-time tears and abject loneliness he felt when he arrived in Canada. Eventually, he was placed with the Newell family in Springfield, Ontario and for the first time in his life, he thrived in an atmosphere of love and support. He began work as a machinist, first in southern Ontario, then in the rapidly-expanding industrial engine that was Henry Ford's Detroit.

In 1917, Percy enlisted in Amherstburg, Ontario, with the 63rd Battery of the Canadian Expeditionary Force. It was back to Europe, where he fought as a gunner in what was then called the Great War. When he returned to his adopted country in 1919, he settled in Walkerville, Ontario (now part of Windsor). He met and married Muriel Bowman, and together they raised three kids in a stable, loving household. He was quietly determined to provide for his children the kind of home he didn't have as a child. His kids were raised through the Depression without many extras, but according to daughter Dorothy, "we didn't know we were poor."

The children went their own ways as adults, but in the weeks before Percy's death, each managed a final, serendipitous visit with their father. His two daughters, June and Dorothy, visited the family home days before his death; his son Foster, an officer in the RCAF, had just visited Windsor before he left for an overseas posting in Germany. In fact, when his scheduled departure was unexpectedly delayed, Foster had been able to spend a few extra last hours with his father before leaving for Europe.

Percy New was buried with the handwritten goodbye note in his suit pocket, so that his farewell message to friends and co-workers would be close to his heart. The last lines of the note were printed in The Windsor Star in its coverage of his funeral: "So with the parting of the ways, may I wish you all long life, good health and happiness."

Percy's wife Muriel joined him on Aug. 1, 1990, in Victoria Memorial Park Cemetery, Windsor, Ontario.

Tom New, July 2017