As I write this, Canada, Mexico, and China are being threatened with tariffs--for no real good reason--by the Trump administration. Canada and Mexico, in particular, are targeted for border crossings that may bring fentanyl into the U.S. But according to statistics, only about .2% of fentanyl seizures are through Canada. This is certainly not enough to disrupt a century-old trade agreement and alienate our closest ally. Also, why blame another country for the people within the U.S. who use this drug? That's where the focus should be.
But let's take politics out of this.
From 1981 to 1985, I drove through Canada many times on my way back and forth between Western New York and East Lansing, Michigan, where I studied Mechanical Engineering at Michigan State University. The drive was approximately 360 miles one way, and I made that trip 26 times over those years. When added up, nearly 7,000 of those miles were within the Ontario Province.
Having grown up just 35 miles from Niagara Falls, I was already familiar with the southeastern portion of Ontario. My family traveled to the falls several times (the Canadian side is better), as well as an amusement park along Lake Erie called Crystal Beach Park. Crystal Beach was in operation from 1888 to 1989. That's a very long time. There were reports that in 1974, a few carts from the Comet wooden rollercoaster broke free and dumped several riders into the lake. Still, it was one of my favorite parks to travel to.
What has always been most noticeable to me about Ontario is how well they maintain their roads and highway systems. The main roads are smooth and lack the many potholes that wreak havoc on cars in the northern states. You can visibly see and feel the difference the moment you cross through the border gates.
I was also impressed with the kindness of the Canadian people that you so often hear about. The only two times I was pulled over at the border was coming back into the United States by U.S. crossing guards. One was so rude that he made me completely unload and reload my car, which was full of everything one would expect to furnish a dorm room: carpet, clothes, bedding, stereo system, etc. You'd think a U.S. citizen with U.S. plates would be more welcomed.
What I also remember on those very long stretches of highway was listening to cassette tapes and enjoying the scenery. My mind is a little foggy about what part I was in, but I remember listening to Whitney Houston along a curvy corridor. And I'd always stop at the McDonald's on the Canadian side just before crossing over the Ambassador Bridge into Detroit. Sometimes I'd alter the trip and cross at the more northern Port Huron entrance.
I always think of Canada as the Petri dish for good ideas. From roads to affordable healthcare, they manage to come together and find promising solutions to the most essential human needs. We should be looking to them for inspiration, but, as always, the United States is where good ideas come to die. There's always large swaths of the electorate opposed to common sense approaches. If you see it working elsewhere, then maybe that should tell you something. I won't accept the occasional long waits at hospitals in Canada as a truthful excuse for not changing our ways, as in any system there can be wait times for elective procedures. And anyone from Canada will tell you they'd much rather have their taxes go to these basic needs. Most prosperous nations wonder why we have not caught on yet.
After college and in the early '90s, a friend and I made a trip through Canada around Lake Ontario. I remember staying one night at a quaint location with lots of pine trees before reentering the states near Lake Placid, New York. I also made a day trip with some college friends to Middle Island, the southern most land point of Canada. Surprisingly, I've never spent time in Toronto. It's on my list of places to return to. Canada is a vast country with much to explore.
Lastly, on one of my college trips around 1983-84, my 1977 Subaru died on a desolate part of the highway near London, Ontario. The radiator blew. I walked to a Victorian Inn that seemed to appear out of nowhere like a mirage. I told them what had happened and they kindly let me use a phone to call my father. I think they even offered me a place to stay, knowing of my unfortunate predicament. What does a broke college student do stranded in another country with a dead car?
Instead, I walked back to my car and slept in it until my father arrived to tow me some 150 miles back home. He scared the shit out of me when he knocked on my window. The day after, I took this picture of what I wanted to do to that rust bucket.
I sincerely hope that, once Trump and his minions are removed from office, the United States and Canada will return to a more respectful relationship that honors Canadian sovereignty and the dignity of its people. That is when true healing can begin.
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