Allan Orest Prochuk

What can we say? Allan was the most loving, devoted, gentle, intelligent, funny, philosophical, creative, fun-loving, laid-back, and loyal husband, dad, brother, son, uncle, and friend. We miss him terribly, and we are guided by his teachings and example every day. It will take us another 83 years to finish watching all his video footage of diving pelicans, beer being poured into glasses, unflattering butt shots of loved ones walking in front of him, and surreptitious interviews with strangers who did not realize they were being immortalized because Allan had taped over the red light on his camcorder (e.g. asking people in pubs throughout Ireland: “Is Guinness really good for you?”). 

Allan grew up in Manitoba, the youngest of three boys. He was predeceased by his amazing parents, Bill and Anne, and his beloved brothers, Les and Bill. Although Al's dad tried to teach him to play the violin or cello at a young age, he instead taught himself to play rock guitar - at warp speed, after telling all his friends he could. The Stratatones became the first rock band of Elmwood High School in Winnipeg (and played a reunion gig at the 50-year anniversary of the school's opening). Al took guitar lessons from jazz legend Lenny Breau and enjoyed a lifetime of contemplative strumming in the dark. 

Allan graduated from the University of Manitoba's Civil Engineering Class of ‘64, a class that went on to become the record-setting Reunion Kings. He documented their frequent get-togethers on video and created a magnum opus mini-documentary for the 50-year anniversary of their graduation. Al loved nothing more than to gather with his friends/classmates/fraternity brothers at the Sylvia Hotel in Vancouver. They maintained true blue friendships for more than 60 years. 

Allan met the love of his life, Heather, at a mutual friend's group getaway at Mount Baker circa 1977. She was immediately drawn to his intelligence, wit, musical talent, and kindness. Luckily for her, he was an easygoing and understanding sort. Not long after they met, he bought them concert tickets for a special date. But Heather phoned him and insisted he had to forego the date and instead accompany her good friend to a function that the friend's ex would be attending with a new girlfriend. Amazingly, Allan obliged. And Heather stayed home alone that night feeling sorry for herself.

Their only child Alana was born in 1982 and became Al's new favourite photography/videography subject. He was an early adopter of home video recording and interviewed Alana regularly about her ideas and passions. He picked Alana up every day from out-of-school care, and the two of them walked home hand in hand, deep in conversation (to the delight of a neighbour who would watch for them from her window every afternoon). His culinary specialty, pizza cracker sandwiches (Ritz crackers + pizza sauce + cheddar cheese, zapped in the microwave), became the most sought-after snack among Alana's little friends.  

We have so many fond memories of Allan that there is no way we can list them all. We invite you to share some of your memories here. And we thank you for being such an amazing, loving community - but we aren't surprised you are, because Al was an amazing, loving guy. 

In conclusion, please enjoy this poem written by Alana for Allan on the occasion of his 66th birthday in 2007: 

A very happy birthday to the most terrific dad:

a tennis-racket-swinging, Russian-vodka-slinging lad,

who - always game for cribbage games - exclaims, “Cut-ooey, Mike,”*

and rings in happy hour by giving drinks an ample spike.

He loves to talk ideas, politics, religion, art

and exchange thoughts with his daughter (that left-wing bleeding heart!).

At night sometimes, the living room is filled with melody

as our ex-Cardinal** softly strums the strains of “Let It Be.”

He generously offers rides, chauffeuring here and there,

and - more important - lends an ear with sympathetic care.

He documents our every move; his artist's roving eye

once captured Gesys at the trough, pecking at pumpkin pie.***

It's not the standard common stuff of family videos only

upon which our intrepid movie-maker trains his Sony.

Along with trips, recitals, birthdays, little ones at play,

the grime of foreign toilets makes for cinéma vérité. 

Whether the market's bull or bear, he's always pleased as punch

to lend a helping hand (if he's well-rested after lunch),

to teach times-tables tricks or edit videos for me,

to scour the town for meat-free chicken soup or ginger tea,

to brave bunny barrettes as his small daughter tugs his hair

only to be the subject of a Sissy Song.**** (No fair!)

When travelling, his language-blending skills make many friends -

so charming, diplomatic, he'd be great at the UN.*****

But if my dad were Ban Ki-Moon's most trusted right-hand man,

he'd be in the Big Apple, and we'd miss him in North Van.

That's why I'm glad he's here with us, a modest kind of guy.

This poem is to remind him how adored he is, and why! 

Explanatory notes: 

*"Cut-ooey, Mike" was a jokey phrase Allan's dad used when playing cribbage with Uncle Mike (we think). 

**We believe the Cardinals was an earlier name for the Stratatones that did not stick. 

***Allan experimented with a video setting where the camera would automatically take a one-second shot every five seconds. Footage of the Gesy side of the family's Christmas dinner ended up looking EXACTLY like pecking chickens. 

****Yes, it's true. Alana and her friend made up a Sissy Song about Allan after he put up with them styling his hair with barrettes. Terrible! Alana's gender politics are 1000% better now.  

*****It isn't true that his language-blending skills always made him friends. Once, at a tourist information centre in Quebec City, he was convinced he was speaking French but was really speaking English with a stereotypical French accent, which quite offended the staff member there. She thought he was making fun of her! Nonetheless, the Prochuks met a friend on a cruise who repeatedly commented that Allan should work for the UN because he was so good at connecting with people everywhere he went, even across language barriers.