Walter Andrusco, 100, left, and his brother Nick Andrusco, 89
The upside of aging
By Beth Caldwell
Staff writer

In 1907, the world was stirring with amazing news stories and new inventions.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were real and robbing banks, the first helicopter was piloted (hovering one foot off the ground for 20 seconds), and housewives everywhere breathed a sigh of relief as the automatic washer and dryer were introduced.
For the first time, taxi cabs began running in New York City. And in San Francisco—in 57 seconds—Harry Houdini escaped from chains while underwater.
The stock market crashed in the U.S., Finland and then Norway became the first European countries to give women the right to vote, while legendary actor John Wayne, popcorn entrepreneur Orville Redenbacher, jet engine inventor Frank Whittle, and snowmobile inventor Joseph-Armand Bombardier were born.
And in 1907, so, too, was Walter Andrusco of Fort Frances born in the city of Lviv, Ukraine.
And though he didn’t become famous making Hollywood movies or inventing a fantastic flying machine, he accomplished something even more significant than his renowned peers ever did.
Two weeks ago, on April 10, Walter Andrusco celebrated his 100th birthday here, active among family and friends.
And for a guy who’s been around for a century—who still lives independently and bakes homemade bread every week—why even Houdini’s magic couldn’t have charmed up that kind of lifetime achievement.
He shared some memories and wisdom from his long life during a recent afternoon chat his home.
His brother Nick Andrusco, 89, also of Fort Frances, who in no uncertain terms has great admiration for his older brother, also shared his perspective and infectious laughter.
Walter Andrusco moved to Canada from Ukraine at the age of 16 when his father decided it would be so in 1923. Theodore Andrusco had had an office job with the railroad in the city of Lviv until the end of World War One.
Lviv suffered greatly from conflicts during the war and was a game piece for any number of surrounding countries vying for a piece of Ukraine.
“Historically, it was a land that was plundered and occupied by Russia, Poland, and Germany,” noted Nick Andrusco.
“That part of Ukraine was changing hands every darn time the wind blew—and when the pressure came in for Russia to withdraw, the Russian government asked [our father] to stay with the railroad.”
Theodore Andrusco took his family to Russia and continued to work, moving back to their homeland around 1921.
“When we moved back to Ukraine, my dad went to get his job back but that part of Ukraine had been given away to Poland.
“In order to get a job on the railroad then, you had to be Polish or Roman Catholic and my dad wouldn’t do [either],” Nick Andrusco added.
Thus a long voyage to Canada aboard the steamship “Minnedosa” in search of something better for his family. Father and son landed at Saint John, N.B., then headed west by train to Vita, Man., where Theodore Andrusco’s brother already had homesteaded.
It was the year of big change for a Ukrainian-speaking teenager thrust into a predominantly English-speaking world. Besides the culture shock from
city life to Prairie dust, Walter Andrusco did not have his mother or two younger brothers (they remained in Ukraine for a number of years before
making the trip to Canada).
Despite honouring his father’s wishes to make the best of things, Walter Andrusco was not a happy camper.
“When I came to Vita, I stayed a little while and then went to Dauphin to stay with an auntie I had there [and] my father had to stay [in Vita] and work on the farm,” he recalled.
“I wanted to go back [to Ukraine]. I didn’t want to stay. I cried like a [baby]. I came from a big city right to a farm with mosquitoes,” he added.
“I remember we had no money. A lady there wanted to have a garden dug, and someone said to me, ‘She will pay you.’
“I started digging the garden and got thirsty, but I didn’t know how to ask for a glass of water—that’s how hard it was in the beginning.
“I was big and had to go school with little kids. They all stood around me and I looked like a dummy, [but] I learned English pretty quick,”
recounted Walter, engaging his brother’s laughter once again.
Little did he know then that Dauphin would be home for about nine years. It would be the catalyst to many aspects of his life—most notably his passion and unequivocal talent for playing and teaching music. He had no formal musical training.
“When he was in Dauphin, he picked up a violin and that’s where he started his musical career,” said Nick Andrusco.
By the time he was 22, and having graduated from high school, Walter Andrusco had a contract with the Ukrainian Association in Dauphin to teach violin, mandolin, singing, school classes, conduct choir, perform plays, hold a concert very Sunday, and direct one play a month.
His wage for working each week Monday to Sunday was $45 a month.
By 1930, Walter Andrusco’s father was employed at the paper mill in Fort Frances. His brother, Emil, had arrived in 1928 and also was settled here.
The arrival in 1930 of his mother, Mary, and his youngest brother, Nicholas, made the circle complete—drawing the already accomplished musician
to Fort Frances from Dauphin for a visit and long-awaited reunion.
Life changed again for Walter Andrusco when the local Ukrainian community here in Fort Frances offered him a job to teach—and with better pay than he was getting in Dauphin.
He accepted, though he returned to the Manitoba community to fulfill his contract before moving to Fort Frances in 1932.
“I had applied to normal school [teacher’s college] in Manitoba and was supposed to stay and go, [but] they offered me $60 a month at the Ukrainian Hall here to teach,” Walter explained.
Before long, the local Ukrainian Society Hall “Prosvita” was flourishing with Ukrainian culture thanks to him.
In 1933, he joined the Civic Band, playing the French horn. He also was bandmaster for 15 years, retiring in 1979.
In 1935, he married Mary Ossachuk, and in 1937 took up work at the local paper mill to help supplement the meagre income of teaching cultural music and dance.
Still, music remained a high priority and within a few years, Walter Andrusco had attracted some 90 local children and about 50 from International Falls, Mn. to learn the Ukrainian language, folk dances, and ancestral music.
Walter was one of the founding members of the St. George’s Ukrainian Orthodox congregation in 1938 and served on the first executive as secretary. He also is the only surviving founding member of St. George’s parish.
In 1947 when the church of St. George was erected, Walter directed his choir at the inaugural Divine Liturgy. And he continued as choirmaster at the church until Aug. 22, 2004.
A devoted choir master, he also copied out by hand the music and words for sopranos, altos, and tenors, etc., so that each member of the choir had their own.
In 1956, both Walter and Nick Andrusco joined and sang in the International Choir’s rendition of “Handel’s Messiah,” performed over in the Falls, wherein Nick had a leading role as a soloist.
The brothers also played music for weddings, dances, and social events from 1932 until World War Two, when Nick Andrusco signed up for administrative military service with the Canadian Forces, based in Canada.
He was wed to Mary Pidlubny in 1942 and after the war returned home to take up his career with the paper mill, retiring in 1982. Nick Andrusco also was a big hit across the district with his own band, formed after the war.
Walter Andrusco worked for 35 years at the paper mill, retiring in 1972 as Finishing and Shipping Room superintendent.
“I was active and never lazy,” he said of his successful mill career (it’s also two qualities he believes have kept him around this long).
As a matter of interest, at his retirement party Walter Andrusco was presented with a lifetime free pass to cross the International Bridge here. He still has it and can make use of it at his leisure.
“When he retired from the mill, he hadn’t had enough [of work] so he got a job as a clerk behind the counter at the Rainy Lake Hotel—and that’s when the fun started,” roared Nick Andrusco.
“When I retired at 65 years old, I had too much energy yet. I was in the Rainy Lake Hotel and the boss asks, ‘What I was doing?’ and I said, ‘Not much,’” Walter Andrusco replied.
“He asked me if I wanted a job on nightshift, and I said, ‘Yes, okay I’ll do nights, but I’m not going to clean the toilets.’
“Two weeks later, he said I was too good for nights and he put me on days—and that’s how I started another 20 years [of work].
“But they were losing money all the time, so I said to the boss that I would work on commission and he said ‘Okay.’”
Besides regular clerk duties at the hotel, Walter bought and sold cigarettes on commission and made himself—and the hotel—a lucrative income doing it.
Into play at the Rainy Lake Hotel came Walter Andrusco’s abacus—the ancient calculating tool that uses wooden beads on wires was his right hand in counting money.
“I learned how to use that in Russia and I used the abacus to count at the Rainy Lake Hotel. I liked it. It was interesting,” he said matter-of-factly.
“And my father could, blindfolded, use an abacus,” he added.
When asked what their secret to longevity might be (and the fact that the brothers do not look their age), Walter Andrusco joked about being forgotten down here and the benefits of being active while his brother laughed and talked about calculators and his good sense of humor.
Both their parents lived into their 80s, making good genes a possibility, too.
“I never expected to live this long. God made a mistake and kept me longer—I thought I’d be lucky if I made 90 years,” Walter said.
“I never smoked and drinking was limited, and I was never lazy—I think laziness is bad and I think people don’t exercise enough.
“I can’t sit still—maybe that’s my secret,” he reasoned.
Nick Andrusco also has a lot of energy and still rides his bicycle everywhere during the spring and summer. He also reads without prescription eyeglasses.
“People look at me and ask me how old I am. I say to them, ‘How old do you think I am’ and they say ‘60,’” he noted.
“I say, ‘I don’t know how old I am, but I’m going to tell you when I was born,’ and I when I tell them I was born in 1917, they have to get out their calculator to figure out how old I am,” he said, chuckling heartily.
“And I always laugh.
“Our secret is that we take after our mother—she was a going concern,” Nick Andrusco added. “She worked hard and was always on the move, doing something.
“She was a wonderful woman and didn’t know what laziness meant,” he stressed.
Walter Andrusco has no regrets except that he didn’t pursue a higher education and a teaching degree. His father is his mentor and he agrees with his brother that television was the best invention they ever laid eyes on.
“My father read the Bible maybe 10 times over and if somebody came in and they didn’t have a coat, he would give him the coat—that’s the kind of guy he was,” touted Walter.
He is blessed with three children, Billy Andrusco, Leda (Fred) Beck, and Julie Andrusco, five grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.
“I want to be remembered as a good father. I took care of my kids,” he reflected.
The love of Walter’s life, Mary, passed away in 2005 after 69 years of marriage.
Eloquence and sincerity rose at the end of the afternoon chat when an 89-year-old younger brother expounded on the relationship he shares the man who sat next to him.
It was something we all long to hear from the siblings we love and who love us back.
“We are more than brothers. I don’t think there is anybody living that has the same connection as he and I—than the two of us,” Nick Andrusco concluded.
(Special thanks to the Andrusco family for providing information for this story).