Doctors on the Move: Physician Migration and Canadian Immigration History

Full text

L to R: PM Justin Trudeau, airport official,
Madeleine and Kevork Jamkossian (The Guardian)
Doctors on the Move: Physician Migration and Canadian Immigration History
Sasha Mullally and David Wright
Ed. Note: Sasha Mullally is Associate Professor of History at the University of New Brunswick. She is undertaking a social
history of immigrant physicians to Canada from 1957 to 1976, during the inaugural period of the Medicare system. David
Wright is Professor of History and Chair of the Department of History and Classical Studies, McGill University. He is also
Principal Investigator on a project investigating the immigration of foreign-trained doctors to Canada after World War II.
In 2015, at the height of the European and Middle Eastern refugee crisis, the new Canadian government fast-
tracked the acceptance of 25,000 Syrian refugees. In what was a signal event of his government, Prime
Minister Justin Trudeau waited at Toronto’s Pearson airport to welcome personally the first planeload of
refugees to the country. What was less reported is that on the plane, the exhausted and no doubt traumatized
refugees were asked to wait temporarily before they
disembarked, while political attachés selected the ideal
representative for the inevitable photo-op. Many leading
political figures in the United States, in the throes of
campaigning for the primaries, had framed the Syrian
refugees as potential perpetrators, rather than victims, of
terror. As a consequence, advisers to the new prime
minister were eager to put the most reassuring face on
this newest wave of future Canadians. The selection was
Kevork Jamkossian, a gynecologist, his wife Georgina
Zires, and their 16-month-old daughter Madeleine.
“Welcome home,” Trudeau smiled, as he picked out
parkas for the doctor and his tired but photogenic family.
1
It may have gone unnoticed by all but a very few
historians, but the scene was strikingly reminiscent of 1972, when the civil servants of another prime minister
named Trudeau organized a similar photo-op, attempting to assuage rising popular anxiety over the wave of
immigrants flooding into the country. In that instance, the Department of Manpower and Immigration organized
Issue #77
June 2016
ISSN 1485-8460
Contents
Doctors on the Move Sasha Mullally and David Wright 1
The Czech Incident in New Delhi David Cohen 5
Hearts of Freedom Gala in Ottawa-Gatineau Gerry Maffre 7
Dr. Frederick Montizambert and Public Health Brian Gushulak 8
Ugandan-Asian Archive Vancouver Road Show 12
The Canadian Southeast Asia Research Project: Hearts of Freedom 12
Update: Running on Empty Mike Molloy 13
Book Review: Strangers at our Gates Charlene Elgee 13
West Coast Reunion 14
Book Review: The Threat from Within Kurt F. Jensen 14
Montréal en histoire 15
Updates: Annual Membership Fees, Gunn Prize, and Web Site 15
Brockville Refugee Sponsorship Campaign 15
In Memoriam 16

2
a media event to celebrate the “10-millionth immigrant” How
anyone could have possibly identified the actual 10-millionth
immigrant was beyond anyone’s ken, but it seemed reasonable that
someone, sometime during the calendar year 1972, would
approximate the 10-millionth documented immigrant to Canada
since Confederation. Civil servants were keen to put a positive face
on the new era of immigration that had witnessed tens of thousands
of immigrants from non-traditional countries. Out of a short list of
several candidates, the bureaucrats selected another doctor, this
time British-trained psychiatrist Doctor Richard Swinson, who
landed first in Montreal airport with his wife Carolyn and three
children before being escorted to Ottawa to be welcomed in person
by Immigration Minister Bryce Mackasey. They were dubbed the
“ideal family”, and their arrival was covered by several national
newspapers as well as Time (Canada) magazine.
2
When it comes to immigration reporting, the arrival of
physicians evidently makes for good copy.
This conjuncture of immigration, public policy and medical practice appears less curious and coincidental when
put into a broader historical context. Health-care practitioners have been at the heart of several debates over
immigration in the post-WWII era. Indeed 1972, the very year the 10-millionth immigrant arrived, was also the
year that the World Health Organization estimated that no fewer than 140,000 doctors were practising in a
country other than the one in which they had been trained.
3
This transnational migration of physicians was
particularly pronounced in the English-speaking world, where doctors trained in Commonwealth countries,
such as India, were migrating en masse to Britain, Canada and the United States. Canada occupied an
unusual position, being in the top ten “receiving” countries as well as the top ten “donor” countries (losing
scores of doctors every year to the United States). And although there were hundreds of doctors moving from
poorer to richer countries—a phenomenon dubbed then (as now) a “brain drain”—the flow of physicians was
more complicated than such a unidirectional cliché would suggest. Hundreds of doctors were also migrating
between and among industrialized jurisdictions, such as the many British-born and British-trained doctors who
moved to Canada in the 1950s and 1960s.
4
Our multi-year project, funded principally by the Canada Research Chairs program, seeks to understand the
transnational migration of physicians in the second half of the twentieth century, looking from Canada outwards
to the world. It is our contention that the history of foreign-trained doctors has been under-researched and
under-appreciated both in the history of Canadian medicine and, more particularly, in the history of Medicare.
The struggle of Tommy Douglas and his Cooperative Commonwealth Federation (CCF) government to
establish free hospitalization (and later medical services) in Saskatchewan is a deeply important historical
narrative, reaching almost mythical status in this country. It is not a coincidence that Douglas was voted the
“Greatest Canadian of All Time” in a CBC poll some 10 years ago. But Douglas was only the best-known actor
in a much larger story. If one goes back to the 1960s, many of the principal proponents acknowledged that
Medicare would have utterly collapsed if it were not for the influx of foreign-trained doctors and nurses. Indeed,
were it not for the mass importation of mostly British physicians by Samuel Wolfe during the infamous 1962
Saskatchewan Doctors’ Strike, the Medicare dream would have died at the moment of its inception.
5
In the history of immigration to Canada (and elsewhere), medically trained migrants formed an important
vanguard in the transformation from a “race-based” system of immigration to one that was judged, theoretically
at least, on “merit”. As Karen Flynn has documented in her excellent study of the immigration of nurses to
Britain and Canada, Caribbean nurses were permitted into Canada under the “exceptional merit clause” of the
1952 Immigration Act at a time when Afro-Caribbean applicants were largely denied entry.
6
Similarly, the first
generation of post-war South Asian immigrants to Canada and the United States most often included doctors
(or engineers) desperately needed for the evolution and implementation of the post-war welfare state. This
situation was reflected throughout the English-speaking world, as foreign-trained medical practitioners
migrated from Cape Town to Canberra and from Lahore to Lancashire, for a multitude of professional, personal
and political reasons.
The Swinson family (Canada 1973, p.173,
Statistics Canada)

3
Through an examination of contemporary sources, we are attempting to recreate the waves of foreign-trained
doctors and their impact on health services in their adopted communities. Fortunately, many wonderful and rich
primary sources exist. First, since licensed medical practitioners in Canada must be reported to provincial
colleges of physicians and surgeons, a printed annual volume of ALL physicians for the country exists for the
post-war years (the annual list became available in digitized form in the 1990s). In these census-like
enumerations of medical practitioners, the place of medical practice and of undergraduate education is
included, as well as the first year of licensure, providing an imperfect proxy for nation of origin and time of
arrival. Annual reports of the Department of Citizenship and Immigration also append a table of the nation of
origin of new immigrants as well as their “intended occupation” (“physicians and surgeons” being one
category). In addition to this, provincial and Canadian medical associations published their own estimates of
the in-flow of doctors to (and out-flow from) the country, often warning that the domestic supply of doctors was
insufficient over the longer term and that medical school capacity needed to be urgently expanded.
7
These quantitative sources can be supplemented by rich oral testimonies. The Royal Commission on Health
Services (Hall Commission), which toured the country from 1961 to 1964, published transcripts of participants
decrying the “doctor shortage” in many parts of the country. The witness evidence is compelling. Local hospital
administrators and medical chiefs made it clear that the principal impediment to the establishment of universal
health insurance in Canada was the insufficient supply and, equally important, geographical distribution of
doctors and nurses. Individual Canadians appeared before the Commissioners to
tell their stories about the absence of qualified medical practitioners in their home
towns. These sources can be supplemented by oral histories of the foreign-trained
doctors themselves that we have been compiling since 2008. Oral history provides
historians with detailed life histories that, when aggregated, reveal important
themes in the migration of highly skilled migrants. We determined fairly early on
that there were significant differences between various national groups. For
example, the reason for the migration of British-born doctors differed
fundamentally from that of South African Jewish doctors under Apartheid, or
Indian doctors in post-Partition India, or Ugandan-Asian doctors expelled by Idi
Amin in 1972. To date, we have examined in detail the migration of South Asian
physicians to Canada, National Health Service “refugees” from Britain, and U.S.
Draft doctors. We have also observed clusters of foreign-trained doctors practising
in company/industry towns from Sydney, Nova Scotia to Thompson, Manitoba.
Some of these findings can be seen in a new book of collected essays, whose
cover features fleeing Ugandan-Asians: Doctors Beyond Borders: the
Transnational Migration of Physicians in the Twentieth Century (University of Toronto Press, 2016).
All medical historians appreciate that the globalization of health human resources has a history longer than the
last third of the 20th century. Canada has received foreign-born doctors (often decommissioned army and navy
surgeons) since the earliest generations arrived in New France.
8
And in the 19th century, the immigration of
medical practitioners with foreign credentials posed a challenge to the organizing medical profession.
9
We are
particularly interested, however, in the contemporary period of 1957-1976. The first date is the year the
Hospital Insurance and Diagnostic Services Act was passed, inaugurating federal co-funding of public
provincial hospitals. The period includes the implementation of provincial health insurance in Saskatchewan,
the aforementioned Saskatchewan Doctors’ Strike, the Hall Commission, the introduction of the points system
in immigration, and the Medical Care Act, which would ultimately, with provincial enabling legislation, usher in
universal health insurance (Medicare) for the whole country. The 1976 Immigration Act, the end-point of our
study, is widely seen as the end of the “open door” policy for doctors, after which it became, for a quarter
century, extremely difficult for foreign-trained doctors to become licensed in this country.
Indeed, with this in mind, one wonders if and when the Syrian refugee doctor Kevork Jamkossian will actually
ever practise medicine in his new country. Prime Minister Trudeau asserted that Canada has long prided itself
on opening its doors to asylum seekers, and in his welcome he emphasized the belief shared by many
Canadians that Canada constitutes a liberal society open to newcomers: “[W]e define a Canadian…,” he
affirmed, “by a shared set of values, aspirations, hopes and dreams that not just Canadians but people around

4
Canadian Medical Association
Journal, 22 Feb 1975, vol. 112
the world share.”
10
But aspirations, hopes and dreams have not been
equally realized, as different generations of doctors have had strikingly
different experiences practising medicine in Canada. The overwhelming
majority of those who arrived in the formative Medicare years appear to
have found gainful medical employment, even if it meant working in
underserved areas for several years. Dr. Swinson, for example, would
carve out a successful career as an academic psychiatrist, first at St.
Michael’s Hospital in Toronto and later as Chair of the Department of
Psychiatry at McMaster University in Hamilton. In contrast, those who
arrived in the 1980s and 1990s were largely shut out of medical practice
altogether. Balancing the rights of foreign doctors to practise, protecting the
public from unsafe clinical practice, as well as controlling spiraling health
care budgets, have made the licensing and accreditation of foreign-trained
medical practitioners an ongoing emotive and vexing political challenge.
As a consequence, looking back at the intersection of the history of
immigration and the advent of Medicare has obvious implications for health
policy and health system management. The issues can be exceedingly
complex, given the decentralized nature of the Canadian health care
system and the fact that immigration, unlike health care, is predominantly a federal jurisdiction. National
immigration policies sometimes aligned with, but more often complicated, provincial and municipal attempts to
recruit and retain international medical graduates. As we indicate above, while physicians can be traced and
“placed” among the provinces of Canada, oral histories and personal narratives allow us to understand them
as human agents with their own individual, and often, remarkable stories. Our challenge, as historians, is to
balance the local, the national and the global. And to remember the inherent irony of our historical project: that
the creation of one of the most quintessentially Canadian projects—universal health insurance—was only
achieved by bringing in health practitioners trained in other countries.
Notes:
1
“Canada welcomes in first group of 25, 000 Syrian refugees”, The National/World [Associated Press], 11 December
2015. Available at http://www.thenational.ae/world/americas/canada-welcomes-in-first-group-of-planned-25000-syrian-
refugees.
2
“Ten Millionth Immigrant Lands,” Toronto Sun, 30 May 1972, p. 94. See also “Immigration: An Ideal Family”, Time
(Canada), 12 July 1972, 99, no 24, column 2.
3
Alfonso Mejía, Helena Pizurki, and Erica Royston, Physician and Nurse Migration: Analysis and Policy Implications,
Report of a WHO Study, (Geneva: World Health Organization, 1979), 24.
4
Wright, D., Mullally, S., Cordukes, C., “ ‘Worse than Being Married’: The Exodus of British Doctors from the National
Health Service to Canada, c. 1955-1975”, Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, (2010), doi:
10.1093/jhmas/jrq013.
5
Malcolm Taylor, Health Insurance and Canadian Public Policy, Third Edition (McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2009),
298. Expecting “a near complete walkout,” of local physicians, Samuel Wolfe also went over the border and “lined up
doctors from the Auto Workers medical plan in Detroit and the Steel Workers plan in Pittsburg.” Alan Blakeney, “The
Struggle to Implement Medicare,” in Greg Marchildon, ed., Making Medicare: New Perspectives on the History of
Medicare in Canada (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2012), 278–9.
6
Karen Flynn, Moving Beyond Borders: A History of Black Canadian and Caribbean Women in the Diaspora (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 2011), especially chapter 4, 94-126. See also Agnes Calliste, “Women of exceptional merit:
Immigration of Caribbean nurses to Canada,” Canadian Journal of Women and the Law, 6 (1993): 85–102.
7
See, for example, “Association News: Future Requirements for physicians in Canada”, Canadian Medical Association
Journal, Nov. 18 1961, vol 85.
8
Toby Gelfand, “Who Practiced Medicine in New France?: A Collective Portrait”, in Charles Roland ed., Health, Disease,
and Medicine: Essays in Canadian History (Toronto: Clark Irwin/Hannah Institute for the History of Medicine, 1984), 16-
35.
9
Terrie Romano, “Professional Identity and the Nineteenth-Century Ontario Medical Profession,” Social History/Histoire
Sociale, 28 (1995), 77-98.
10
“Canada welcomes in first group of 25,000 Syrian refugees”.

5
The Czech Incident in New Delhi
David Cohen
I wrote this personal account in October 1968, about the Czechs who applied for
refugee status at the Canadian Immigration office in New Delhi after the occupation of
Czechoslovakia by Soviet troops.
Tuesday 1 October—I returned with High Commissioner James George from a few
days of hiking to find a group of Czechs waiting for us. They came from Ranchi, Bihar,
where they had been working for the Heavy Engineering Corporation (HEC). All were
employees of Skoda, working in India on a foreign aid project.
Wednesday 2 October—They returned to the office for interviews. There were 21
people altogether, with seven heads of families. One chap had been at the office
previously, so we had a pretty good idea of what was in store for us—though we did
not foresee all the complications that would arise.
From the start, the Canadian government acknowledged that these people were refugees. On that
Wednesday, they had medical examinations and then were interviewed by Fred Urquhart (RCMP Visa Control
Officer), and by Gordon Whitehead or me. We had to read the policy files hurriedly to determine how we could
process them. We sat in the office interviewing until 6:30 p.m. We finished worn out but feeling we had
accomplished something, as the calibre of the applicants was impressive. In the background, our boss Al
Campbell was making hurried trips to the high commission, sending urgent telexes to Ottawa, and meeting
with the High Commissioner, who was in turn having consultations with the Indian authorities.
No one was sure what the Indian government might do. It had only “deplored” the action of the Soviet Union in
occupying Czechoslovakia, not “condemned” it. In addition, there was the project in Ranchi. The sudden
departure of seven highly trained personnel would have a detrimental effect on the project’s successful
completion. If those seven managed to get to Canada successfully, what was to stop the rest of the Czechs
trying to get out also? There were about 200 Czechs in Ranchi, including wives and families.
Thursday 3 October—We finished all the procedures. The Canadian Pacific representative booked 16 places
for the next afternoon. The only things the Czechs now required were clearance from the Foreign Registration
Office and income tax clearance. [All foreigners who were not members of a Commonwealth country had to be
registered with the regional Foreign Registration Office, and anyone other than a member of a diplomatic
mission had to have an income tax certificate before being permitted to purchase a ticket.]
By the afternoon the local registration office had issued clearances for the Czechs to leave. They had visited
the local HEC office and been told that they were exempt from income tax, but the company would give them
nothing in writing.
Friday 4 October—No further developments. The Czechs lost their first opportunity to leave, and it now
appeared that it would be Monday before anything would happen. They were getting anxious: they were
staying in the Lodhi Hotel, about a mile from our office, and their money was beginning to run out, and sooner
or later the Czech embassy would get word of what was happening.
Our new boss, Cliff Shaw, and his wife Margaret arrived in the midst of the turmoil.
Saturday 5 October—Gordon came around in the evening for what was to be a “raid the fridge” dinner, but it
never came off because Al Campbell appeared around 8:30 p.m. to ask us to work.
That afternoon two of the Czechs had turned up at the Campbells’ house, saying that two men from the
Foreign Registration branch had come to their hotel to collect the clearance certificates and had made all of
them sign statements that they would not leave Delhi. In addition, 50 police had been posted around the hotel

6
to ensure that no one tried to escape. Al asked us to keep an eye on things at the hotel and report back if the
police did anything suspicious. If they tried to remove the Czechs by force, we were to try to dissuade them, or
at least stall them. What we could have done, I’m not sure, other than suggest that the Canadian government
was seriously interested in the welfare of these people and it intended to pursue the matter with the Indian
authorities at the highest level. In fact, I believe we had some restraining effect, merely by our presence. It was
obvious that the police were nervous and would be only too happy if the matter were handled at a higher level.
Somehow two of the families got wind of what was happening. One couple and their two children took up
residence in the Canadian high commission. Another chap’s wife saw the police arriving as she was returning
to the hotel. She and her husband managed to get away. As they still had their clearance certificates and had
only been back from leave a short time, they did not require tax clearance. They purchased airline tickets at the
BOAC office for the next morning and booked into a hotel in Old Delhi for the night. In their escape, they had to
leave their luggage behind. It was not until 1:00 a.m. Sunday that the police realized they were missing, though
we had known for hours.
Meanwhile Al had been spending most of the evening with the High Commissioner who, in turn, had been
meeting with Indian officials most of the afternoon. He had arranged to see Morarji Desai, Deputy Prime
Minister (under Indira Gandhi) as soon as he returned from the U.S. and London, and he had been assured by
the Chief of Protocol at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that no attempt would be made to remove the Czechs
from the hotel. With this assurance, the family that had taken up residence in the high commission returned to
the hotel.
Sunday 6 October—We enjoyed a rather late dinner at 1:30 a.m.
Al called Gordon and me back to the hotel at 10:00 a.m. to keep an eye on the situation and, through our
presence, try to calm the Czechs, who were understandably very jumpy.
We recognized all the plainclothesmen by now. We kept an eye on them, and they on us. It was very James
Bondish and at times quite amusing. We spent a lot of time talking with the Czechs, but occasionally we would
get up and walk around the hotel to draw off one of the guards and lead him a merry chase. In one of these
excursions I purposely attracted the attention of a policeman, then turned around, went around a corner and
headed off down a long corridor. I stopped, turned around to look, and saw him peering from behind a pillar.
He quickly withdrew his head. I waited, his head appeared again. Unable to resist the urge, I waved. He now
came fully into the open and waved back. He obviously figured it was as much of a mug’s game as I did!
Monday 7 October—the High Commissioner met with Mr. Desai and was advised that the Indian government
had no plan to hold the Czechs and its only intention was to give the Czech embassy and HEC a chance to
talk to the group. The embassy people were over on several occasions. They had consulted with Prague and
were attempting to dissuade the Czechs from leaving, assuring them that they wouldn’t be persecuted on their
return home and that conditions were bound to improve in Czechoslovakia. They weren’t very convincing for,
at the same time, the newspapers were reporting the results of the latest Moscow talks and there was news
that Dubcek was probably going to resign. The chief engineer on the project, a Czech, talked to the group also,
but the irony of his appeal was not lost as they were aware that he had already got his daughter out to Britain.
We strongly suspected he would shortly follow.
Wednesday 9 October—Al spent the day rushing around getting last-minute clearances for the Czechs and
dodging newspaper reporters and photographers. After work, Gordon accompanied the Czechs to the airport
to ensure that they got away without further delay or difficulties.
It was a week that neither the Czechs nor we are likely to forget. They were a wonderful bunch. We made
some good friends among them in the hours of crisis and all of us were eager to see that they settled in well on
arrival.

7
2016 marks the 30th anniversary of the awarding of
the Nansen Medal to the people of Canada. The
medal is the preeminent award given by the United
Nations High Commission for Refugees for service
to refugees.
Established in 1954, the award is named after
Fridtjof Nansen, the first High Commissioner for
Refugees for the League of Nations. It is bestowed
on a person or group for outstanding work on behalf
of the forcibly displaced. Since Eleanor Roosevelt
first won it in 1954, more than 60 individuals,
groups and organizations have been recognized for
outstanding and dedicated work on behalf of
displaced people.
In 1986, the UNHCR for the first, and so far the
only, time honoured an entire country with the
award.
L to R: Bill Janzen, Pat Marshall and
Barbara Gamble
Hearts of Freedom Gala in Ottawa-Gatineau
Gerry Maffre
On 5 June, Ottawa-area Southeast Asian communities
held a “Hearts of Freedom Gala” to mark the 30th
anniversary of the awarding of the Nansen Medal to the
people of Canada. Gathered in the Grand Hall of Canada’s
Museum of History, guests included members of those
communities, the three levels of government, the UNHCR,
local settlement agencies, and CIHS members. Before the
formal part of the evening, guests could look at informative
banners from the participating organizations, enjoy
Southeast Asian food, and reconnect with former
colleagues who had been involved in Canada’s
humanitarian response to the Indochinese.
The CIHS was well represented in the displays with a
special banner and an information table where we were
able to promote the Society, the Gunn Prize, and the
forthcoming Running on Empty.
Several prominent speakers then preceded artistic presentations by community performers. They included
former Immigration ministers Barbara McDougall and Ron Atkey, Museum of History CEO Mark O’Neil, the
Immigration department’s then-deputy minister Anita Biguzs, UNHCR Representative to Canada Furio de
Angelis, Senator Thanh Hai Ngo, Member of Parliament Anne Quach, Deputy Head of the Norwegian embassy
Else Kveinen, Executive Director of Refugee 613 Louisa Taylor, Professor Howard Adelman, and CIHS
President Michael Molloy. As well, Bill Janzen (Mennonite Central Committee),
and Pat Marshall and Barbara Gamble (Ottawa’s Project 4000), talked about their
professional and personal experiences in helping refugees settle in Ottawa.
A common theme in the speeches was
Canada’s response to past refugee crises
and the need to continue that tradition and
responsibility. Speakers congratulated the
former refugees for their contributions to
Canada and mentioned the help many are
now extending to Syrian refugees. The former ministers reflected on the
terrific cooperation and drive they witnessed in officials in Canada and
refugee camps of that time. Barbara McDougall was eloquent in praising
Mike Molloy as the movement’s coordinator, inspiration, and hero.
For his part, Molloy pointed to the political leadership that made the work of officials much easier. In a video
prepared for the event, he related some of the experiences he and his colleagues worked and lived through.
Professor Adelman called on Canadians not to forget their response to human crises like the boat people and
the Syrians: in his words, to forget is to reject—which is not the Canada we want.
SAVE THE DATE!
Members are asked to mark Thursday, 20 October on their calendars: this
is the date of the Society’s 30th Annual General Meeting—an important
milestone. Details will follow closer to the event.
L to R: Kurt Jensen, Brian
Casey, Martha Nixon

8
Doctor Frederick Montizambert
(© Who's who in Canada, 1922)
Edition)
Dr. Frederick Montizambert and Public Health
The second of a planned series of articles on the role of health and medical screening in Canada’s immigration
history
Brian Gushulak
Ed note: Dr. Brian Gushulak joined Immigration Medical Services of Health and Welfare in the early 1980s and held
positions in both Health and Immigration departments. From 1996 to 2001, he was Director of Migration Health Services
of the International Organization for Migration in Geneva, and then until 2004, he was Director General of the newly
created Medical Services branch in the Canadian Department of Citizenship and Immigration. He has since been
engaged in research and consulting in the area of health and population mobility.
I have always believed that if Frederick Montizambert had lived and worked in the United States, his life would
have been documented in a movie and he would be as familiar to those interested in medicine as Wilder
Penfield, William Osler, and Banting and Best. This should be particularly true in a globalized world, where the
implications and challenges posed by diseases moving across borders are frequent news stories. However, as
Montizambert spent almost all his professional life as a civil servant, where individual recognition at the
operational level rarely became public, he is an almost-forgotten figure.
Some of this lack of presence mirrors the lack of importance of public health to the government institutions
within which he worked at the time. Additionally, he could be a bit of a challenge to work with and manage,
traits which reduced the chances that his superiors would support
increased recognition of his work despite some 54 years of service.
Bilson, in his biography, notes that Montizambert’s annual reports,
which included analyses of the movement of diseases, were so
long and detailed that an Order in Council passed in 1917 instructing
departmental reports to be limited to brief descriptions of the
departments’ work and not contain “contributions to knowledge in the
form of scientific discussion” was directed primarily at Montizambert.
Near the end of his career he wrote directly to the prime minister of the
day, Sir Robert Borden, to discuss what today would be his severance
package.
Yet a number of profound scientific, social, bureaucratic and political
events at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century are
marked in his personal and professional life. Montizambert
lived and worked during Confederation and the creation of
modern Canada. From a medical point of view, he witnessed and
was part of the shift in the centres of medical excellence from Europe
to America. He experienced the impact of major scientific medical
advances, such as the germ theory of disease and recognition of the bacteriological causes of infections. In the
context of globalization, he worked in a maritime environment that saw marine travel evolve from sail into
steam. He had the ability to understand and apply the scientific and operational aspects of those changes to
the practice of quarantine. For this he received international, if not domestic, recognition.
Finally, he was a part of the process that supported the science and practice of public health, both as a
profession and as a national endeavor, and he was an important although quiet force in the organization and
creation of a national health department to manage health matters of domestic interest.
Frederick Montizambert was born in Quebec City in 1843 to a family with roots that extended back to the
1640s. He was a direct descendant of Pierre Boucher, the founder and seigneur of Boucherville. His youth was
spent in the pre-Confederation context of Upper and Lower Canada. He grew up in a privileged environment
where public service was commonplace. His father was law clerk to the Legislative Council of Lower Canada
and later the Senate. His mother’s father was chief justice of the Superior Court of Lower Canada. He was
educated in Montreal and at Upper Canada College and returned to Laval to study medicine.

9
Quarantine hotel at Grosse Île (Library and
Archives Canada)
Until the middle of the 19th century, Europe was the centre of excellence for the science and practice of
medicine in the western context. Most scientific and clinical advances were made there, where numerous
medical colleges and schools had long histories of teaching and research. In America, institutions like Harvard
and Johns Hopkins were just beginning to develop the capacities that would advance them to their present
status. Like many new doctors in North America who wanted to specialize, Montizambert journeyed to Europe
to continue his education. He studied surgery in Edinburgh, where he excelled at his studies and worked with
some of the best surgeons of the day.
On his return to Quebec in 1864, he began private practice as a prominent, well-educated, well-connected
physician. His sense of duty and public service was evident even then: he joined the militia and served during
the Fenian raids as principal medical officer of the Quebec military district, receiving a medal for his service.
In a similar manner to the mobilizing of militias at times of crises, municipal or civic boards of health would be
rapidly convened to manage public health emergencies, such as cholera epidemics [See Bulletin 76]. The
boards were given emergency powers and resources. As the outbreaks of disease came under control, the
powers and activities of the boards, and the responsibility for health, returned to local authorities at the
municipal level. One cannot help wondering if Montizambert’s experience with the poorly coordinated provincial
militias during those times, factors which advanced the process of Canadian confederation, prompted his later
efforts to lobby for a national public health department.
Private practice proved less interesting to Montizambert than public health, but in the absence of epidemics
and outbreak emergencies, there were only a few public health opportunities in Canada at the time. The only
permanent public-health related positions were to be found at the quarantine stations and the lazaretto, or
leprosy hospital, in Tracadie, Nova Scotia.
Montizambert set his sights on the quarantine station at Grosse Île and initially obtained a yearly appointment
as an assistant medical superintendent. Getting the job required persistent lobbying and taking advantage of
his family’s political connections (extending to the level of Sir John A. MacDonald). His quest was facilitated by
the retirement of the incumbent director and the death of a competitor, and he was appointed medical director
at Grosse Île in 1869. He was 26 years old.
The quarantine station that Montizambert inherited was a
product of the cholera epidemics of the previous decades.
The station and the practices that went with it reflected the
age of sail and predated the germ theory of disease, when
cholera was believed to result from miasma or bad air. The
station was only open eight months a year, the best for
sailing vessels to make the transatlantic run. Regulations to
enforce quarantine were weak, and steam propulsion now
allowed travel during winter. Vessels frequently steamed by
the station without inspection. Better sanitation in Canada
and the United Kingdom, improved accommodation, and
shorter passages provided by steamship were diminishing
the impact of cholera as a public health threat. The future of
Grosse Île and quarantine was in question.
However, public health was becoming an important medical entity beyond periodic epidemics. Smallpox, which
was a disease of epidemic potential but one for which effective vaccination was now available, assumed
greater importance and attention in the 1870s and 1880s. At the provincial level, public health acts were
passed in an attempt to regulate and offer legislative support for improving health and welfare at all times, not
just during outbreaks. Universities with medical colleges began to offer courses in public health, and
institutions dealing with public health were founded. The American Public Health Association, for example, was
founded in 1872. Public health practitioners became more prevalent in Canada and abroad. The emerging
science of epidemiology began to provide an empirical basis of measuring outcomes. At the international level,

10
One of three luggage-disinfecting heat
rooms. Posters are in the different
languages spoken by the immigrants.
(Library and Archives Canada)
attention began to turn towards systematic and standardized methods of dealing with the spread of diseases
between nations and across oceans. The first International Sanitary Conference, which created a process that
would eventually lead to the creation of the current International Health Regulations, was held in 1851. All of
these changes and scientific advances were taking place while Canada expanded westwards and the need for,
and volume of, immigration expanded dramatically.
Montizambert began to apply the more modern aspects of public
health on Grosse Île. He badgered his superiors for funds and
resources. Under his direction, quarantine operations were
extended, vaccination for smallpox was required, and regular
inspections ensured compliance. He established a bacteriological
laboratory capable of diagnosis to determine whether infections
warranted quarantine. Following the identification and recognition
of microbes as the cause of infectious diseases, sterilization and
disinfection became routine practices. Steam sterilization replaced
the simple washing of contaminated goods. The number of staff
was increased, and record keeping improved.
Similar processes were under way in the United States, where the
Public Health Service began to assume control of quarantine from
the states after the passage of the 1878 National Quarantine Act.
Many immigrants destined for the United States disembarked in
Canada, and there were concerns about what would now be
called the continental integrity of quarantine services. Montizambert worked closely with and visited his
American counterparts. In addition, bilateral inspections by U.S. Public Health officials reduced American
concerns that immigrants destined to the U.S. via the St. Lawrence posed health risks.
Service provision was standardized, streamlined and better administrated throughout the 1880s. New and
better-designed buildings were constructed to make the experience at Grosse Île less challenging for both
passengers and transport companies. Montizambert’s authority was increased, although not with what he
considered sufficient salary or status. In 1894 he became the superintendent for all quarantine stations (Lawlor
Island near Halifax, Partridge Island in New Brunswick, and William Head in British Columbia). He ensured that
all of them took up the public health science-based practices in use at Grosse Île.
In 1899 he became Director General of Public Health and Sanitary Adviser to the Dominion Government, a role
and rank comparable with what today would be a deputy minister. In this role, he also assumed responsibility
for the leprosy hospitals at Tracadie and D’Arcy Island in British Columbia.
Montizambert was in charge of quarantine, which was a federal government responsibility, at the time when
public health was becoming a true science. As such he was heavily involved with other nations and their
quarantine services. He visited Europe and met with Louis Pasteur. He was elected president of the American
Public Health Association in 1890. Many nations applied the principles developed at Grosse Île to their
domestic quarantine services, and he provided input for several national and international processes to
standardize quarantine practices. Domestically, in his role as Sanitary Adviser, Montizambert became involved
in the management of leprosy, the control of tuberculosis, and matters as mundane as the control of disease
on railways.
Responsibility for quarantine had resided in the departments of The Interior and of Agriculture for most of
Montizambert’s career. At the dawn of the 20th century, there were calls for a federal health department.
Realizing the benefits of a centralized administrative and regulatory approach to public health, he became one
of many advocates for a true national health department. Modern medicine required accurate epidemiological
statistics; immigrants arriving in one province quickly moved to others to settle; railways carried those with
communicable diseases rapidly between jurisdictions; and growing international cooperation in disease control

11
Shower System in Disinfection
Building (Parks Canada)
required a central point of contact. Many believed that these needs would be best served by a unified
department whose sole focus was the health and welfare of the nation.
Montizambert’s role as a government official precluded direct lobbying for a
national health department, but he provided general advice and suggestions to
organizations such as the Canadian Medical Association, which carried the
demands to the government. Efforts were interrupted by World War I, but the
return of thousands of soldiers with sexually transmitted diseases acquired
abroad and the impact of the 1918 Influenza Pandemic lead to a Dominion and
Provincial Conference in 1919 that supported the creation of a national
department to deal with health. The new department would look after “all
matters and questions relating to the promotion of health and social welfare of
the people of Canada over which the Parliament of Canada has jurisdiction”.
Having devoted his life to the development of public health in Canada,
Montizambert expected to play an important role in the new department.
However, it was not to be. He had been a government official for 50 years and
was now in his mid-seventies. While he was an unquestioned expert in quarantine and aspects of disease
control, his experience in other aspects of metropolitan health and welfare was limited. The government
thought that bringing in an outsider with few ties to the old bureaucracy would facilitate the reorganization
required to build a new department. The Deputy Minister of the Department of National Health and Welfare
was to be a younger man: Dr. John Amyot, a physician with academic, provincial and university experience in
public health, who was also a medical officer during World War I.
Montizambert was disappointed but continued to work. Amyot created a Quarantine, Immigration and Marine
division in the new department, and Montizambert assumed responsibility for Quarantine. It was clear that
there would be conflict, but fate intervened when, in early 1920, Montizambert was injured by a streetcar. He
recovered and returned to work, but Amyot initiated the process of his retirement. Montizambert retired after 54
years of government service and lived in Ottawa until his death in 1929.
While he never received the national recognition or reward that he deserved and perhaps craved, Frederick
Montizambert was greatly appreciated at the international and scientific level. His work greatly influenced the
evolution and practice of quarantine at the time. He was influential in the documenting, reporting and analysis
of the international spread of disease, activities that became integral components of global health. He can be
considered as one of the early Canadian giants of global public health, and his life and times reflect many
aspects of the new Canadian nation.
Sources:
Anonymous. “Frederick Montizambert”, C.M.G., I.S.O., M.D. British Medical Journal. 1929;3594:986-987.
Bilson, G. “Dr Frederick Montizambert (1843-1929): Canada's First Director General of Public Health”, Medical History,
1985, 29: 386-400.
Cameron, IA. “Dr Montizambert and the 1918-1919 Spanish influenza pandemic in Canada”, Canadian Family Physician.
2010;56:453-454.
Dictionary of Canadian Biography. Available from http://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/montizambert_frederick_15E.html
(Accessed April 15, 2016).
Howard-Jones, N. “The scientific background of the International Sanitary Conferences, 1851-1938”, 1975, World Health
Organization
MacDougall, HA. “The genesis of public health reform in Toronto, 1869-1890”, Urban History Review. 1982;10: 1-9.
Available from https://www.erudit.org/revue/uhr/1982/v10/n3/1019076ar.pdf (Accessed April 21, 2016).
Montizambert, F. “The Canadian Quarantine System”. Public Health Papers and Reports. 1893;19:92-103.
Montizambert, F. “The Present Organization and Work for the Protection of Public Health in Canada”, Journal of the
American Public Health Association. 1911;1:398-399.
Montizambert, F. “The Story of Fifty-Four Years’ Quarantine Service from 1866 to 1920”, Canadian Medical Association
Journal. 1926;16:315-319.

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Milton and Val Carrasco with the logbook of
Ugandan-Asians arriving at CFB Longue
Pointe in 1972. (credit: Ben Neims)
Ugandan-Asian Archive Vancouver Road Show and a Valuable Addition to the Collection
The previous Bulletin reported on Carleton University’s efforts to broaden awareness of the Ugandan-Asian
online archive that was established with the assistance of the CIHS. In February a team from Carleton and the
CIHS took a road show to Toronto to acquaint the Ugandan-Asian community there with the archive and its
contents [See Bulletin 76]. A second roadshow took place at Vancouver’s beautiful Central Library on 2 April.
Carleton University has created The Uganda Collection to capture the memories and experiences of those
expelled from Uganda in 1972. This unique collection contains rare artifacts and valuable information about
their expulsion and subsequent resettlement in Canada.
The Vancouver event attracted 300 participants, who were able to handle documents from the collection and
listen to some of the oral histories that have been collected. Guest speakers included Ugandan High
Commissioner George Marino Abola; Senator Mobina Jaffer; John Halani, Uganda’s honorary consul in
Vancouver; Nizar Fakirani, whose family’s donations have facilitated the preservation and presentation of the
collection; and two successful businessmen who began life in Canada as refugees, Massadiq Umedali and
Amar Gupta. Gupta, the grandson of one of Uganda’s Sikh pioneers, recounted how he was stripped of his
Ugandan citizenship and kept his original “Affirmation for Visa” (signed by Larry Carroll), which he used to
travel extensively in Europe after being landed in Canada and showed at this event.
Carleton’s Chief Librarian Wayne Jones and Archivist Patti Harper spoke about the importance that Carleton
attaches to this collection of newspaper clippings, memoirs and original documentation.
The highlight of the event was a presentation by Milton and Val
Carrasco of an important artifact of the Ugandan movement.
When Val Carrasco and her sister, from Uganda’s Goan
community, arrived in Canada as teenagers, Chief Warrant
Officer Randall, who was supervising the arrival process, gave
them his card and asked them to stay in touch. Over time
Randall and his wife took the girls under their wings. Before he
died he gave them a black ledger and asked them to find a good
home for it. The ledger was used as a logbook and contains the
dates, flights, names, and ultimate destinations of every
Ugandan-Asian who arrived in the airlift chartered by the
Government of Canada between September and November
1972. The Longue Pointe Logbook constitutes an addition to the
Carleton collection of exceptional historical value.
A team from Carleton will travel to Toronto and Vancouver this summer to collect additional oral histories from
people who arrived from Uganda in 1972 and1973.
The Canadian Southeast Asia Research Project: Hearts of Freedom
This three-year research project, led by Carleton University, has partners and advisers from the Vietnamese,
Cambodian and Laotian ethnic communities, as well as from Canadian museums, museum and historical
associations, and the CIHS. Its goal is to preserve the historical memory of Southeast Asian refugees, their
sponsors, and Canadian officials, military and airline personnel involved in the Southeast Asian refugee
movement to this country. The plan is to produce a book and short film, in addition to 200 oral history
interviews and their transcriptions in a bilingual format. The CIHS is represented as a partner in the project
through the active participation of Mike Molloy, Anne Arnott, Charlene Elgee and Peter Duschinsky.
Financing for the project will, in principle, be provided through a Heritage Canada grant and by “in kind”
contributions from Carleton University. In the past two months, Carleton emeritus professors Colleen Lundy

13
and Allan Moscovitch have chaired a series of meetings to prepare the project proposal and its budget for
submission, and they have met with Heritage Canada about it. As well, there has been a meeting with Patti
Harper, Carleton University’s head archivist, to ensure that the oral histories, their transcriptions and artifacts
would have a place in a newly established Southeast Asian collection at the Carleton Archives and Research
Collections, based on the model of Carleton’s Uganda Collection.
The project submission and the budget are now close to being finalized. It is hoped that the project will be
approved and started later this fiscal year.
Update: Running on Empty
Mike Molloy
The writing and editorial team worked hard all spring to get the manuscript of Running on Empty: Canada and
the Indochinese Refugees 1975-1980 ready to submit to McGill Queen’s University Press (MQUP) by 31 May.
It was a big job because it is a big book—approximately 200,000 words.
We passed the mandatory academic peer review with flying colours. We have added, at one reviewer’s
suggestion, a short but powerful section on the longer-term settlement challenges faced by the refugees based
on a number of studies that were done about a decade after the refugees arrived.
Given current interest in the refugee issue, both the Society and MQUP are optimistic about sales. I have only
one regret: that the book was not ready early enough to be of use to the people who just brought 25,000
Syrians to Canada. The legislation, corporate culture, and above all the astonishing technology at the disposal
of the Immigration department are very different from the ballpoint pen and carbon-paper days of 1979 and
1980, but a lot of enduring home truths are embedded in the history and stories we have recorded that would
have reassured our successors. The hard-headed compassion, organizational smarts, and steely
determination we record in the book were alive and well in Lebanon, Jordan and Turkey this past year.
MQUP’s editors will no doubt work the text over again, and that is going to take some time, but we will provide
updates as we get them.
Strangers at our Gates: Canadian Immigration and Immigration Policy, 1540-2015 (Fourth
Edition) by Valerie Knowles. Toronto: Dundurn Press, 2016. 334 pages
Reviewed by Charlene Elgee
Reviewer’s Note: Valerie Knowles is an Ottawa-based historian and writer with degrees from Smith College (BA Honours
History), McGill University (MA History) and Carleton University (Bachelor of Journalism). In addition to the previous
editions of Strangers at our Gates, Knowles has also published First Person: A Biography of Cairine Wilson, Canada’s
First Woman Senator; the award-winning William C. Van Horne: Railway Titan; and two volumes of Capital Lives: Profiles
of 32 Leading Ottawa Personalities; several local Ottawa-history titles; and numerous newspaper and magazine articles.
Not every fourth edition of a book merits its own review, but Strangers at our Gates by Valerie Knowles
deserves that kind of attention. Previous editions are on essential reading lists of history and social diversity
courses in universities and colleges across the country.
Impeccably researched and clearly written, Strangers at our Gates presents a comprehensive history of the
many waves of migrants coming to our shores, starting in prehistoric times. Knowles tells this story across the
centuries with the good, the bad and the ugly all exposed but without personal judgement. It is a fascinating
catalogue of who came, when they arrived, the problems they faced, and the issues that arose as the nation
grew in population and diversity.
The fourth edition brings the story up to the present from 2006 (where the third edition ended), with the Syrian
refugee crisis as the latest addition. This update coincides exactly with the years of the Stephen Harper

14
government, which was faced with such challenges as large backlogs of applicants, economic downturns in the
midst of record-high intakes of immigrants, faltering success rates among new immigrants, struggles with
recognition of foreign credentials, refugee issues around health care and dubious claimants, stumbles with the
Temporary Foreign Workers Program, changes to citizenship definitions, and the challenges of the terrorist
issue. The last chapter looks to the future and presents food for thought. Knowles stays above the fray,
presenting both sides of every issue and giving the reader an intellectual foundation along with sources for
further research. The decision not to include any photos and illustrations in the new sections, however, is a
disappointing one.
This reviewer has felt for some time that Strangers at our Gates should be required reading for every
Canadian, but, failing that, it should at least be part of the tool kit of all those who work to create our policy
frameworks at the federal, provincial and municipal levels of government. And certainly an understanding of
where we come from, and therefore who we are as a nation must begin with the knowledge of our history as
immigrants, whether we are students of Canadian history or just interested in understanding our country.
Knowles’s unpretentious and accessible writing style makes the learning process easy. Read this book!
The Threat from Within by Phil Gurski. Rowman & Littlefield, 2015. 181 pages
Reviewed by Kurt F. Jensen
Myths, uncertainties, and ideologically tainted views surround the question of what constitutes radicalization
and terrorism in the West. Phil Gurski, a recently retired intelligence analyst with CSIS specializing in
homegrown al-Qaeda-inspired terrorists, has written a book which seeks to clarify the confusion.
Gurski suggests that there is no set of criteria with which to identify the next homegrown Canadian terrorist.
Any attempt to generalize may give comfort to the uninformed but will not aid those seriously seeking to
understand this issue.
The media have put forward various factors and influencers as important drivers of terrorist-linked violence—
including gender, age, poverty, alienation, criminal background, lack of education and unemployment. These
elements may be present in some cases and absent in others. Gurski concludes that the terrorist threats which
Canada and other nations face cannot be resolved by identifying common characteristics. He says that “people
who are radicalized to violence are average Canadians and Westerners.” Rather, he believes one has to
determine “what violent radicalization looks like rather than extend the debate over drivers and root causes.”
Common indicators that people are starting on this path include: sudden increases in intolerant religiosity,
rejection of different interpretations of Islam, rejection of non-Muslims, rejection of Western ways, rejection of
Western policies, association with like-minded people, obsession with Jihadi and violent-extremist sites and
social media, obsession with the narrative (a set of beliefs verging on conspiracy theories), desire to travel to
conflict zones, obsession with Jihadi, obsession with martyrdom, and obsession with End-Times (the coming of
the end of the world).
West Coast Reunion
While on the west coast this winter, CIHS President Mike Molloy met with a number of members and
former colleagues. These included Lloyd Champoux; Donald Cameron (and Sandra); John McEachern,
former Nairobi Immigration Program Officer; Shahira Tejpar (and Zul); and former Security Liaison Officer
Jack Rae (and Betty). In Victoria, Mike and wife Jo spent time with Ron and Margot Button, and had a
highly enjoyable lunch with the Buttons, Bill Sheppitt, Audrey Tomick, and Gordon and Ginny Whitehead.
Travelling up the island, Mike and Jo caught up with Dr. Brian and Mrs. Gushulak, and with Mr. and Mrs.
Nestor Gayowsky. Many an immigration tall tale was told in the course of these encounters: the older we
get, the better we used to be!

15
The presence of some, or many, of these indicators is reason for concern but does not necessarily make
someone a terrorist. Until now these indicators have usually been identified in those engaged in terrorist
behaviour after the fact. Gurski makes the point that family, friends, religious leaders, and others may notice
these indicators and seek assistance to effect an intervention and divert the person from terrorism before he or
she comes to the attention of security and law enforcement.
Gurski’s book will not give comfort to its readers. The book has few answers, and that makes it more credible
than many others. In a world confronted by the fear of terrorism, this is a sobering book that brings a sense of
reality to a complex issue.
Updates
Annual Membership Fees
The CIHS has decided to change the annual membership year, because most members pay their fees at the
AGM in late October. Instead of covering a calendar year, annual membership will now extend from
1 November to 31 October of the following year. A renewal reminder will be sent out before the AGM.
The Gunn Prize
The Gunn Prize has been getting wider exposure. New Canadian Media, which is a prime source of copy for
newspapers in smaller communities, recently published an article by Danica Samuel based on interviews with
the Society’s Gerry Van Kessel and Gunn Prize winner Geoffrey Cameron.
Web Site
The CIHS’s website has promoted awareness of the Society and attracted requests for research assistance
and help in reconnecting with former Immigration personnel. Visitor traffic has been decent over time, but it is
showing its age.
We know people search the internet from a variety of communications devices. Our site is now really only
compatible for those working from computers. It’s not user friendly for those on pads and smart phones.
So our webmaster, Winnerjit Rathor, is re-engineering the site to make it more attractive to a wider variety of
devices and visitors, enhancing the prospects that web searches will lead people to our site. Essentially, the
new site will be the same to visitors from PCs or more portable devices. Either through the Bulletin or your
visits to the site, we’ll keep you informed of the changes.
Montréal en histoire
An unusual history of Montreal, including its immigrant communities, comes alive on the website of Radio
Canada’s local radio station. In preparation for the city’s 375th anniversary next year, the station is running
a series about lesser-known facts of Montreal’s past. The site includes reports, with illustrations, on: the
Jewish population in the early to mid-1900s; the Syrian population and its presence in cinema ownership;
and the Turkish tunneling engineer whose family introduced the city to cycling and gave us the opera
singers Louis Quilico and his son, Gino. The series can be found on-line by searching for “radio canada,
en route vers le 375”.
Brockville Refugee Sponsorship Campaign
On 24 April, CIHS President Mike Molloy gave a talk to drum up support for a plan to settle 10 Syrian
refugee families in Brockville, Ontario. He explained how Canada’s record of refugee resettlement since
World War II mirrors evolving Canadian values and has helped to define Canada’s place in the world. You
can find it on YouTube.

16
In Memoriam
Wilf Greaves
Remembered by Will Greaves, his grandson (Taken from The Globe and Mail)
Born on 12 August 1922 in England, Wilf Greaves died peacefully on 27 March, in Sault Ste. Marie. Born to a
distinguished family with little money, Wilf was the youngest child of Alfred Greaves, an Oxford-educated
farmer and Anglican minister, and Margaret Massey. Soon after his birth, the family left England for Ontario,
where Alfred homesteaded before being assigned to a parish on the Garden River First Nation.
Wilf and his three siblings were the only non-native children in the community, and the experience fuelled his
curiosity and respect for other cultures. For the rest of his life, he would fondly recall life on the reserve,
especially singing Ojibway hymns during Sunday services.
Wilf was a teenager when his father died, and he left school to help support his family, working as a bank teller.
During the Second World War he served as a navigator in the Royal Canadian Air Force, flying on aircraft out
of Newfoundland, and then in the Royal Canadian Navy, with overseas service in England. He later joined the
army reserve, making him a member of all three services of the Canadian military. After the war, he worked
stints as a cab driver, miner, and steel worker before being hired as an immigration officer at the ferry dock in
Sault Ste. Marie.
He saw Peggy Perreault waiting at a bus stop; he proposed 28 days after their first date. She found his
proposal a bit quick, and neither family approved of the match between a divorced, French-Canadian, Roman
Catholic woman and a never-married English-Canadian, Anglican man. However, they married in 1949 and
remained together for 60 years. They had three children (Eric, Sherry and Guy).
Becoming an immigration officer marked the start of Wilf’s 35-year career in the Canadian foreign service. His
postings included Glasgow, Cologne, Copenhagen, Cairo, Bangkok, Jamaica, Barbados, New York, Buffalo
(where he was consul-general), Oslo, Buenos Aires, Islamabad, Bonn, Rome, Seoul, Damascus, Kampala,
Kuwait, Riyadh and London.
After Peggy’s death, he returned to the Soo, moving to a retirement home built on the same spot as his old
high school. Although his health and mobility gradually declined, he never lost his sense of humour or his joie
de vivre. He died on Easter Sunday with his eldest son by his side.
Remembered by Ernest Bergbusch
Wilf was a good friend and an excellent colleague. We served together in Cologne for only two years (1966-
1968) but remained friends for life. I was impressed by his calm temperament, his genial sense of humour, and
his ability to lower the temperature when things got hot. He and Peggy enjoyed entertaining and were kind and
generous hosts. He took the lead in organizing and leading a variety of excursions and activities. In particular, I
remember dinners at his home, wine tastings on the Moselle, a trip to the Kuekenhof Gardens in Holland, and
annual Cologne carnival activities. In his later years, Wilf served in a number of shorter assignments at various
locations abroad. His experience, equanimity, and adaptability earned him respect and a welcome wherever he
went.
Remembered by John Baker
I first met Wilf and Peggy in 1967 when visiting Cologne as part of our training program—otherwise known as
the free European tour. From that first meeting, I knew that Wilf was special: he was friendly, kind, humorous
and loved by his staff. The Greaves had us all over for dinner, and we were blown away by their lovely house
on the banks of the Rhine. What a view! With that experience, I knew that I had chosen the right career. Over
25 years later, I was posted to Bangkok, and whom did I replace? Wilf Greaves! Of course, he and Peggy
hosted a reception at our hotel so that we could meet all the staff socially first. What a fine gentleman, and
what an interesting life he led.

17
Remembered by Susan Burrows
When I arrived in New York City for my training, I was met at the airport by the Immigration program manager,
Wilf Greaves. He not only looked like Santa Claus, he acted like him, putting me at ease right away and
treating me like a valued member of the team, something not all program managers did back in the late 1970s.
Wilf and Peggy were wonderful to their staff and treated them with respect and care. I believe Wilf continued to
play Santa Claus on a few other occasions, one notably on the back of an elephant in Thailand. I am sure he
will play the role in heaven as well.
Jack Lavoie
We are sad to report the passing of Jack Lavoie on 20 May. Jack is survived by his wife Shirley, who also had
a career in the immigration foreign service. There will be more about Jack and his career in the next Bulletin
and we welcome reminiscences from former colleagues.
Ellery Hugh Post
Remembered by Bill O’Connor
Ellery Hugh Post, born on Christmas Day 1924 in Winnipeg, died on Monday, 23 May 2016 in Calgary at the
age of 91. Ellery began his career with Canada Immigration in 1947 in Emerson, Manitoba and worked in
numerous locations in the prairies, including Winnipeg, Churchill, Brandon, North Portal, Regina and finally
Calgary, where he was manager for many years. He retired in 1981 after 34 years of service to CIC.
Ellery was a WWII veteran, having joined the Royal Canadian Navy in 1942 and served on the destroyer
HMCS Huron protecting Allied supply convoys on the Murmansk run. He was a member of the Royal Canadian
Legion for 73 years, and served his community in the Masons, the Scottish Rite, the Shriners, the Royal Order
of Jesters, and on the board of directors of the Calgary Stampede and the Calgary Stampeder Football Club.
Within the Immigration program Ellery was well known and respected for his knowledge and leadership. His
contributions to the Immigration program, his staff, and the public cannot be understated. Ellery was a man of
principle and will be remembered for his love of family, his strong work ethic, sense of humour, love of sports,
and his common sense approach in doing the right thing. We all have fond and lasting memories of Ellery and
are better people for having known him. He will be missed.
Remembered by Rob Ferguson
I will always be indebted to Mr. Post for my career with Canada Immigration. He hired me as a summer student
in 1975, allowing me to get my foot in the door on the way to a 35-year career with the department. I was able
to work in my dream job as Manager of CIC Calgary for 15 years. This was Mr. Post’s last position before he
retired in 1981. I was honoured that Mr. and Mrs. Post were able to attend my retirement celebration in 2013.
Mr. Post had many qualities, but one of his lasting legacies was hiring and developing good staff. He always
made his staff available for opportunities. I could easily name 20 people who worked for him and went on to
management positions, such as Bill O’Connor (Manager CIC Lethbridge), Mike Fitzpatrick (Manager CIC
Saskatoon), Rudy Wiens (Manager CIC Calgary Airport), Lloyd Phillips (Manager CIC Coutts), Debra Allen
(Manager CIC Edmonton), Ron Bierns (Manager CIC Winnipeg), Bryce Gurney (Manager CIC Prince George),
Fred Furlong (Manager CIC Calgary Airport), and Hugh English (Manager CIC Edmonton Airport). Now that’s
the sign of a great leader.
Remembered by Mike Molloy
Ellery was Officer in Charge at Emerson when I was sent, still pretty green, to open a visa office in
Minneapolis. He was someone I could always turn to for advice at a time when we were tightening up on
immigration applications from the U.S. He was tough but compassionate.

18
I called him one day after interviewing a young guy from Emerson who appeared at the consulate with his
American fiancée. It seemed like a pretty straightforward case until I discovered he had been born in the U.S.
His immigrant parents had popped across the border when he was due because the hospital was better on the
American side and then driven home to Canada with the new baby without thinking to register his birth. I asked
Ellery if he knew the young man. Ellery replied that “the kid” used to chase his cows. I explained the situation,
and without a pause Ellery replied, “He belongs to us, send him home, we’ll fix him up”. What about the
fiancée? I asked. “Send her too. A good woman will settle the little brat down”.
George Reynolds
Born in 1916, George Reynolds obtained a BSc (Agriculture) from the University of Guelph in 1941 and joined
the Canadian army in 1942. After a distinguished war-time career, he joined the Immigration department in
1945. George received his training in the Western region and then worked a brief stint in London, England in
1946. He served as an Immigration officer in Ottawa from 1947 to 1951 and then moved to Settlement, where
he rose to the position of acting chief of the division. From 1964 to 1966, he was acting chief of Counselling.
He was then posted abroad to London (1966-69) and Cologne (1969-72). Back in Ottawa, he held senior posts
in Selection and Processing and Technical Operations. In the 1970s, he served abroad again, managing
Immigration operations in New Delhi, Nairobi and Manila.
Remembered by Don Cameron
George got his nickname “Spike” in WWII. His artillery gun position being overrun by German infantry, he
picked up a gun spike (a long steel pole used to move artillery guns so that the barrel faced the target) and
beat them off.
Although it has been almost 50 years since I worked for him at the Canadian high commission in London, my
memories of him are vivid. Initially I was in awe of him because of his high army rank and his war record.
Moreover, he had risen high in the public service and held the most prestigious position in the Immigration
foreign service in London. As I got to know him, my admiration continued to grow for the man whose sterling
qualities inspired the respect and loyalty of all those he directed. George was a great man and a great
representative of Canada abroad. It has been decades since we last met, but I have never forgotten him.
Remembered by Joe Bissett
I recall meeting a Canadian visitor to London at a high commissioner’s reception in the early 1970s. When he
found out I was an Immigration officer, he asked if I knew “Spike” Reynolds. He told me he had nightmares
about Spike, because in his university days at Queen’s he played middle line backer and dreaded facing Spike,
who played fullback for the Guelph team. He told me that, when Spike came through the line, he didn’t try to
avoid the opposing linebackers but deliberately went straight for them and ran over them. He said nothing hit
harder than Spike Reynolds. George also won the army light heavyweight boxing championship during his
military career. He was one of the few in the early years after World War II when the department was set up
who strongly believed the government had a responsibility to help immigrants get established in their new
country. He played an important role in ensuring that “settlement” remained an important part of the new
department.
The Canadian Immigration
Historical Society
(www.CIHS-SHIC.ca ) is a
non-profit corporation
registered as a charitable
organization under the
Income Tax Act.
The society’s goals are:
- to support, encourage and promote research into
the history of Canadian immigration and to foster the
collection and dissemination of that history, and
- to stimulate interest in and further the appreciation
and understanding of the influence of immigration on
Canada’s development and position in the world.
President - Michael J. Molloy; Vice-President - Anne Arnott;
Treasurer - Raph Girard; Secretary - Gail Devlin;
Editor - Valerie de Montigny;
Members at large - Brian Casey, Roy Christensen, Hector
Cowan, Peter Duschinsky, Charlene Elgee, Kurt Jensen, Gerry
Maffre (Communications), Ian Rankin and Gerry Van Kessel
Member emeritus - J.B. “Joe” Bissett
IRCC Representative - Diane Burrows