Looking to Leave Canada (Part 2 of 4)

Freedom Convoy trucker, an immigrant, says police violence changed everything.

Part 1: I Thought I Was Living in the Best Country

A member of the public offers Ed something in a shopping bag. Notice the Charter of Rights & Freedoms in the windshield, and the snow heart above the tire. Photo taken by me in Ottawa, 12 February 2022.

Many of the other truckers Ed met in Ottawa were immigrants like himself. "Polish, Serbians, Russians, Ukrainians, yeah you name it," he says,

This is kind of the industry the immigrants get stuck with, you know. We are coming to this country and want to work. You need to do something hard to make money. The trucking is one of the first steps for immigrants. I couldn't get out of it, you know. I tried a couple of times, it didn't work. Always coming back, always coming back.

During the time he was in Ottawa, some people wanted him to leave town,

They were calling to my company owner. Yeah, they were pushing different ways, dirty ways. Even the guys who are not even the government, the ones who are just selling the loads, the brokers who give the loads to our company. Even they were calling us, saying 'Move your trucks, move your drivers out of Ottawa, we gonna make sure nobody give you loads.' The pressure was from everywhere.

As the protest dragged on, cops from other jurisdictions were being sent to Ottawa:

A friend of mine, a police officer, was calling me from the first day. 'Eddie, get out of there. I am coming to Ottawa to arrest you, get out of there.'

'Listen,' I said. 'There was a man in his eighties from Vancouver Island, you know with these medals from the war on his chest. I was sitting in my truck, shaking hands. My hand was hanging out of the window, somehow he kissed my hand.'

I asked him, 'What are you doing?' He says, 'You guys are giving us hope.'

And that's what I was saying to my friend. I said 'I cannot leave here. I give hope to many people. I give hope to myself. I came here in peace for my own sake, but now I gotta stay. I represent that man from Vancouver, and many, many others.'

And then my police friend said 'Eddie, I'm not coming to Ottawa. I'm going to refuse this because of you.'

Big picture, Ed says he’s “never seen such a peaceful public protest, with such a positive vibe that united all Canadians." Sports games and festivals he's attended don't come close. Members of the public were endlessly supportive. "I cannot describe it, what we were feeling in that cold. The women and kids. At least we were in warm trucks. They were walking in minus-20 Celsius every single day. Bringing food to us, taking garbage from our trucks. That's some kind of experience. I'll keep it in my heart. I won't forget."

He was especially touched by the drawings children gave him. "I collected them. Mostly I enjoyed the kids, the presents, little stuff. How thankful they were for our movement." He says he's grateful to Ottawa residents "for their hospitality. They are a very, very great city."

Sometimes he found himself apologizing: "I was saying 'Guys, sorry we are making noise in your city.'" He says the response was usually along the lines of, "Oh no, no. Please stay. Don't go, please stay."

This protest was the most playful in Canadian history. After two years of shuttered pandemic gloom, working men and working women insisted on being heard. They brought hugs, dogs, and children to Ottawa. They played road hockey and loud music. They danced and set off fireworks. In the words of one resident, that "very boring city" became "the most happening city in North America, if not the world." There were bouncy castles, pizza ovens, pig roasts, and a hot tub.

But on Valentine's Day, a Monday, Canada's Prime Minister invoked the Emergencies Act. Rumours flew, and tension increased. Exactly three weeks after he'd arrived, on Friday morning, Ed took a walk to see what was going on. Many of the trucks on his block had already left, 

I saw the police violence start. I didn't like it. So I came back to my truck. I was talking to my friends about what to do. And then I saw it was getting ugly, you know. I didn't want to participate in violence. I was there for peace, that's it.

And then I pulled out. I was feeling like I betrayed something, you know. I betrayed myself, that I'm pulling out. But I didn't want to get involved in any violence.

As he departed, driving away from the downtown toward the outskirts, Ed recalls numerous people "showing me the fingers, 'Get out of here,' you know. I was quiet. I was so broke, I didn't say nothing."

Ed didn't have his bank account frozen, or his truck insurance cancelled. But the police violence changed everything. Along with other immigrant drivers, he found events hard to believe. "We had a different reality of Canada. I never thought I'm gonna be thinking of leaving this country, after twenty years." But he has, he says, "lost the trust with this government."

Ed personally knows two truckers who've left Canada since the Freedom Convoy was crushed. He himself already holds a Green Card, which grants him permanent residency in the United States. "I don't want to be here for the next five years, that's for sure," he declares.

next installment: We Have More Time Together