Bacon, eggs and memories

Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 27/05/2016 (2889 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

It’s hard to put a finger on it, hard to neatly explain, but there is a buzz on Selkirk Avenue these days — and it’s not just street construction.

Michael Champagne nodded in agreement, sipping coffee at the Windmill diner on Wednesday morning. It is as if years of community-building have put the historic North End drag on the brink of something. The neighbourhood’s Friday evening meetings at the bell tower on the corner of Selkirk and Powers Street are thriving; next year, the rejuvenated Merchant’s Corner education hub is set to open.

“Selkirk Avenue is bubbling right now,” Champagne said. “It’s bubbling up. People are getting excited about Selkirk Avenue, as they should be. It’s amazing to see what happens, when people begin to be ferociously proud of their community. I feel like that’s what’s happening.”

The street is one of Winnipeg’s treasures. It is, like Osborne Street through the Village, built on an urban pedestrian scale: built for people, built for small businesses, built to beat as a community’s heart. On the other hand, it also wears the North End’s scars, and its sidewalks are studded with shuttered shops.

Now, Champagne worries that those could be joined by one more: last month, he heard rumours the Windmill might close.

At first, the longtime community activist was heartbroken. For years, the diner has been a prime gathering point for Champagne’s organizing, including the Aboriginal Youth Opportunities movement. It’s the perfect spot for that kind of work, he pointed out, the kind of place where you can get a mug of coffee for $1.65, then just sit and let conversation flow.

“Restaurants like the Windmill have always been safe havens,” he said. “Especially in the early days of organizing in the village, businesses were always the places that were most open and welcoming to citizens of the community to get together and just talk. That’s where all of the seeds have been planted.”

For now, those seeds will keep growing. Champagne learned this week the Windmill will stay open — but the diner at 518 Selkirk Ave. is up for sale. It’s not without good reason: after 46 years at the helm, gregarious owner Gus Damianakos is nearing his 79th birthday, and ready for a well-earned rest.

When the restaurant sells, Damianakos will walk away from Selkirk Avenue with his own memories of what was, and hope for what could be. In the mid-1970s and early ‘80s, he remembers, the thriving street was so busy on Friday nights you couldn’t find a place to park. Over time, he watched it fall into neglect.

“For me, it’s a disappointment, because it’s an old-style part of the city and nobody looked after it,” he said, stopping in at his own diner on Wednesday morning. “But to me, I’m satisfied. I worked hard, I had lots of fun.”

What will come next for the Windmill? That depends on the buyer; a tentative deal for the building recently fell through. (”I’d like to sell to somebody to make it better than me,” Damianakos said. “When I come back, I’ll see how is it.”)

It’s not just a building up for sale — it’s part of the area’s history. For over 70 years, the Windmill has slung short-order fare and famous perogies; countless North Enders remember childhood visits with grandparents, noshing on bacon and eggs.

Memories of those days are still vivid inside the diner’s walls. Decades of acquired kitsch hang over the tables, including a collection of gifted sombreros. Each booth has its own coin-operated jukebox, where diners can pop in some change in exchange for a spin of Pat Benatar or Guns N’ Roses.

In other words, it’s the kind of place where servers know regulars both by order and by name. It is in spaces such as these where family traditions take root and community spirit takes hold. When it’s full in the Windmill, Champagne said with a laugh, the place rings out with calls of “Hey, how’s your mom?”

In an era of chain restaurants and corporate branding, this is precious. Last week, my column reflected on a Sherbrook Street barbershop that passed hands from neighbourhood icon Toni Chiappetta, who died just one day before the article came out, to a protegé who vowed to keep the tradition intact.

Consider this column the sequel. As I noted last week, spaces like these are most vulnerable to disappearing when generations fade away. On Sherbrook, a beloved barbershop is now safe, and a community anchor will carry on little-changed. Can the same happen to a classic diner in the city’s northern core?

In a neighbourhood where so much has been lost, the continuation of the diner tradition seems crucial. Places like the Windmill form a link between the North End’s storied past and its future, and for the hopes of any neighbourhood to come to fruition, its people need places to meet, sip a coffee and share a collective dream.

Now, Champagne hopes, whoever steps up to buy the Windmill will see the same vision. A rejuvenated retro diner, in the heart of a time-worn old street buzzing with new optimism? It’s not hard to imagine — and if the story does end that way, you can count on the Bell Tower family stopping by there for breakfast.”It’s beautiful to hear from vintage North Enders about the community events that happened here,” Champagne said. “I just feel like we can get back there, and places like the Windmill are reminders of that time.”

melissa.martin@freepress.mb.ca