Chester De Toni’s sudden death was a huge blow which left me even more sad and depressed. It also caused me to reflect on my life. In 1990, my doctor had advised me to change my lifestyle after having my blood analyzed at a specialized laboratory in California. He said the results suggested my risk of death was four times higher than that of the average man of my age.
This would mean a drastic adjustment, especially around my work. To really effect that kind of change I would have to quit my position. I thought about it and discussed it with my family and decided that I had little choice in the matter. The only question was when I would retire.
That same year, Arthur E. Coia had come for dinner at our house and offered me a vice-presidency at the International. He was shocked when I turned him down. That position is the highest that can be aspired to by a Canadian. However, it would have required more traveling, more lunches and dinners, no regular schedule: the opposite of what my doctor had ordered. What Arthur also did not know was that I already made up my mind to quit for health reasons.
After returning from Labrador I went to Las Vegas to attend the International Union’s convention, which is held every five years. I was asked to second the nomination of Angelo Fosco for the office of general president which I gladly did. Angelo was good to me over the years. (He also died after I retired. I attended his funeral in Chicago out of respect and in recognition of his co-operation when I was running both the local and the district council.)
As I said, Chester’s death played heavily on my heart and mind while I was in Las Vegas. I reflected on my life and realized that I had never stopped to smell the roses. As a young man, I had not gone to parties or dance halls but went from house to house to sign up non-union workers to grow our union. My life had been about conflicts, confrontation, lengthy strikes, dirty politics, the occasional backstabbing, and never-ending stress. It was the double-crossing animosity of my world that bothered me the most.
Let me give you an example. Construction is part of every Italian’s DNA. Take a look at the magnificent structures in Italy built from Roman times through the Renaissance to today. For many generations, an Italian immigrant’s first priority on landing in Canada was to buy a house. Most of us settled around the Danforth Avenue area in the east end of Toronto and, of course, around College Street, St. Clair, and Eglinton Avenue in the west end. By the 1970s, the majority wanted new and bigger houses with bigger backyards where they could grow more vegetables and tomatoes so they migrated to the four corners of the GTA. A good number choose Vaughan and specifically Woodbridge.
I was tempted to move there, too, but instead I purchased an empty lot in central Etobicoke. In August 1979, after selling the house we had built in 1967, I started construction of my new house. I was the builder and the general contractor and I engaged each trade as I needed. My problem was to find union contractors since at the time the residential housing sector was non-union with the few exceptions of basement contractors and concrete-and-drain crews that had been organized by Local 183.
As the manager of a major construction union, I had no choice but to employ unionized labour. It drove up the cost of the house because some of the contractors I used were primarily ICI and thus were paid a higher rate. All the same, the major expense turned out not to be wages but sabotage. We were almost finished drywalling when the subcontractor complained to me that a door opening was wrong. I checked with the carpenter, a good and experienced man, who looked at it strangely and said, “How the heck did that happen?”
He set about pulling the frame apart and noticed an electrical wire had been cut. By coincidence, an electrician was also on-site and when he came over to look he also became suspicious because it was a clean cut. Usually if an electrical cable is cut by accident it is not a “clean cut” and the tradesman who caused it would report it immediately to the electrician or the site supervisor.
The electrician then tested other electrical circuits and found that all of them were dead. Somebody had cut all the electric wiring. They had been cut clean, with a pair of wire cutters, and then the cut end had been stuffed back into the hole drilled into the two-by-four stud so as to cover up the sabotage. This was no accident. We found many places with cut wires placed back into the hole. Clearly, this was not just deliberate but maliciously calculated. Ironically, if the carpenter had not made a mistake on the door, it would have ruined me. The biggest cost in a house is in the finishing. If the drywalls had been taped, the tiles installed, the walls painted, the wallpaper hung, the finishing electrical fixtures completed, the plumbing installed, and the sabotage found only after all that, I would have been bankrupt. The insurance policy covered me in case of fire, not vandalism.
I had to hire a full-time security guard for overnights and Saturdays and Sundays. Of course, this all cost me money and added to my mortgage. In my opinion, somebody up there made the carpenter make a stupid “mistake” with the door. Everything happens for a reason. This sabotage was another example of how my invisible enemies were trying to harm me. Shortly after this, someone I had considered a friend in the union movement asked me, “How is your house construction going?”
It was a perfectly reasonable question but I had never told him I was building a house. I do not mind a good fight out in the open. I do not like fighting in the dark. I hated that other union leaders would badmouth me and make false reports to Washington that created problems for me. This ignominious practice continued even after my retirement because certain people were obsessed with the idea that I might return in some capacity.
On a personal level, I also felt guilty about how little time I spent with my family. My children, Mark and Lisa, had grown up without all the attention and care a father should give because I put the union cause ahead of my family too often. There was still time to dedicate my attention to my family before becoming an empty nester and so I knew I had to take that opportunity to make things right.
When the International Union’s pension fund changed the retirement rules to thirty years of service and out, I decided that it was a good time to go. I was at the peak of my power and there was no real enemy in sight, at least not in the open. I had another three years to go on my mandate, I had considerable power and authority, and politicians at all levels of government were seeking our support. We had truly become a powerhouse. Most unions and employers respected us. I had an army of lawyers, accountants, and dedicated union representatives, good secretarial staff, and the support of the best members in the labour movement.
I am a lover of history. From history I learned the best time to go is at the peak of power. Those who ignore this rule are not remembered as well as those who follow it. The decline comes to all, sooner or later. Early in 1992, I gave notice to the Ontario District Council that I was resigning, saying that I wanted to dedicate my remaining few months in office to Local Union 183.
It was like a thunderbolt out of the clear blue sky. People were shocked but I had made up my mind. I was fifty-two years old. It had been thirty-three years since I had arrived as an eighteen-year-old boy in Toronto, speaking little English, driven only by a dream of a better life. I had spent my working years building Local 183 and now it was time to move on.
That spring I finalized the renewals of all of the local’s agreements. I went over as many details as possible of the local’s administration structure and organization to fine-tune everything for my successor. I also had an opportunity to repay Gerry Gallagher’s favour in hiring me all those years ago. His widow, Olive, called and asked for help in getting a job as a representative for her son, Michael. He was working as an operating engineer and a member of the Operating Engineers Local 793 so I called my friend Joe Kennedy, the local manager, and took him to lunch.
I asked Joe to hire Mike Gallagher as a personal favour and explained it was very important to me because of the debt I owed his late father. I also told Joe that if he could not do it, I would hire Mike, but I felt he would be better off working in his own union and trade. Joe called me a week later to say he was going to hire Mike and Olive also called to thank me. Years later Mike Gallagher became the manager of the Local 793 of the Operating Engineers.
Before leaving for good I wanted to make my last appearance at the board of trustees for each of the funds we had created. The trust fund, the pension fund, the welfare fund, the vacation-with-pay fund, the prepaid legal fund, and the training fund—all of them, with the exception of the pension plan, I had founded. The only meeting I could not get to was that of the training fund which was not scheduled until October. I decided to wait until then rather than call a special meeting.
On July 24, 1992, they held my retirement dinner and I gave my farewell speech. There were close to a thousand attendees from unions, employers, government offices and other interested parties. At the end the band played “My Way.”
In early August, I called a meeting of the local’s executive board and I recommended Mike Reilly be appointed to replace me. Reilly had announced his intention to retire but I thought it would be appropriate for him to retire as manager. I had to do some homework ahead of the meeting because the majority of the executive board members were not exactly thrilled at my endorsement. Many people advised me that I was making a mistake. Perhaps I should have listened.
Shortly after my retirement, I went to Israel and Egypt with my wife. On my return I went to the last meeting of the training fund. We were all sitting down, union, employers, and trustees, when Reilly came in. He announced the meeting was not going to take place as long as I was there. Everybody was shocked and speechless. Reilly then called on the union trustees to leave the meeting and though they were union representatives under his direction none of them moved an inch. At the end of the meeting, I resigned as a trustee of the training fund as announced the previous August.
Reilly was not finished, however. He successfully blocked a motion made at a previous meeting which would have named the training centre after me. This despite the fact that the sign had already been made. Then he ordered the removal of all the pictures of me at various events over the years which were hung at the Local 183 headquarters.
I am sad to note that after I left, things went from bad to worse at Local 183. The peace treaties we had worked so hard to sign were often broken and battles with the carpenters flared up again. Within two years, Local 183 was placed under International supervision after a number of scandals appeared in the newspapers, many of them on the front page. In February 1995 Toronto Star reporter Jack Lakey wrote:
Family members of a powerful Metro union boss with close ties to the NDP received plum jobs at the union’s provincially funded housing projects, contrary to government policy.
Michael J. Reilly, business manager of Labourers’ Local 183, ruled the union with blustery Irish charm and an iron will until he retired Feb. 9. As chairperson of the union’s non-profit housing program, Reilly was instrumental in securing at least $44 million in provincial government loan guarantees to build two social housing developments. Reilly signed the application papers for both.
Reilly’s son and two of his sons-in-law earn their livings at those buildings, and two other social housing projects operated by the union.
The story went on to detail some questionable practices and a month later Lakey followed up:
The board of directors in charge of government-funded housing operated by a big Metro union have resigned over allegations of nepotism and conflict of interest.
A Saturday Star story outlined how the son and son-in-law of Michael J. Reilly, former boss of Labourers’ Local 183, got high-paying work with no job competition at the union’s social housing projects. Local 183 runs four social housing projects built with government funds, which are overseen by a six-member non-profit property management board composed of union officials.
Joe Mancinelli, manager of the Laborer Union’s central Canada office, asked for the resignations of the Local 183’s executive board “We’re showing that we are going to take action so things are done properly,” said Mancinelli, who took over supervision of day-to-day operations at Local 183.