Rest in Peace Bert (1948-2005)

Bert was my stepdad and had passed away on November 15, 2005 of a heart attack while driving his taxi cab. He was pretty healthy but didn't know he had already some arteries clogged in the heart. A fatal heart attack took him away early in the morning of November 15, 2005 while driving cab in a Winnipeg snowstorm. You'll be missed.

I myself tried my hand at taxi driving at the age of 20 years old. I was fresh out of school from Red River Community College (Domestic Electronics). The job market in 1991 was terrible; a deep recession was on and there were NO jobs in TV / Stereo / VCR repair. I decided to try Handi-Helper transit in Winnipeg. Back then it was ran by a gentelemen named Victor Kumar, a nice guy who gave me an old Dodge Van (15 seater) to drive. Back then propane was pretty cheap and that's how it was powered.

I was paid not by the hour but by the TRIP. My wage was roughly 60% of the fare charge. My van was a wheelchair van, so I took people in stretchers and wheelchairs. I also took senior citizens out on day trips with their care providers. It was hard, long and boring work. I got into two car accidents while working (one was my fault).I worked long hours some days (16 hours or more). I remember getting paged at 3 in the morning to take a young drunk woman home from a very seedy downtown Winnipeg bar. That bar is called "The Zoo" and is still in existence today off Osborne street. I remember it distinctly because back then it was completely full of bikers.

The tables were wheels set on their sides and the chairs were basic wooden bar ones. It was exactly the kind of place where you could expect to get shot, robbed, raped, or all of the above. I think the woman went there because drinks were pretty cheap there - 50 cents for draft and a buck for domestics.

The worst part was getting my pay cheq. I worked 80 hours in about a week, or 160 hours in two weeks, I only brought home the equivalent of $2.50 per hour. Right then and there I started looking for jobs between my customer calls. My van number was "Number 10" so when the dispatcher called your number and gave you the trip information, I had to calculate my route using a map and write it down on paper. Yep, I got lost easy and that was the way I managed not to get lost.

I found a job at a Mohawk gas station on Main Street. I remember it clearly in my mind: I was relieved to get out of the shitty taxi job, but sick of working crap jobs. I had worked gas stations before, but honestly, I was desperate and this was my "savior". I stuck with the gas station for 8 or 9 months, eventually landing a sweet job at Manitoba Lotteries. Ah, memories.