Borders and Border Cities – What We Have Lost

I do not think Canada has a more Americanized city than Windsor.   The geography dictates it.  Driving down Ouelette Avenue toward downtown, for the first time you are struck by the skyline.  You get closer.  Then you realize the skyline you are admiring belongs to Detroit across the river.  The dominance is inescapable.

As a Canadians living in a border city, we viewed crossing the border as part of everyday life. It meant taking the tunnel or the bridge to go shopping, out for dinner or see a major league sport.  We could be in our seats in Joe Louis Arena for a Red Wings game in under 45 minutes.  The same timing to arrive at Tiger Stadium.  No one living in Scarborough or Brampton could be in their seats for a Leafs Game or Blue Jays Game in twice that time.

Along the way, it also meant bringing back more than a little cheap alcohol or ‘treasures’ from an outlet mall excursion.  Most often, we ‘forgot’ to claim everything we brought back.  It was part of the petty larceny that defined crossing the border while living in Windsor.

It also meant we were flooded by American culture.  Back then you didn’t need cable to receive a TV signal from every major US broadcast network, just an inexpensive TV antenna and rotor on the roof.  Every Super Bowl, we could watch the US network coverage complete with the lavishly produced TV commercials, not the watered down ‘Canadian’ coverage where the US commercials were swapped for the lesser Canadian ads.

We were awash in radio signals from Detroit and beyond.  Any type of music or talk radio was available over the air.   Windsorites were more familiar with Detroit and Michigan politics than they were with Canadian politics.   I think we even exhibited Michigan accents after a few years of living there.

It was a charming, innocent existence being in the shadow of a major US city.  Over time we started to embrace it.  The milder winters. The cheap gas.  The easy border crossing. The ‘free’ TV channels. We also got to know a few people who commuted to Detroit for work.  They were part of the estimated 16,000 Canadians living in Windsor and working in Michigan.  I cannot think of any other cities in Canada with as many cross-border career options as Windsor.  Think nurses, automotive engineers, marketing writers and mid level managers making US dollars.

Such is the pull of the United States, that most Windsorites don’t bother exploring the rest of Canada, let alone the rest of Ontario.  They are far more interested in going ‘stateside’ for holiday travel.  So many of our neighbours, had never been east of Tilbury.  Why bother?  There is nothing in Ontario that isn’t available in more abundance in Michigan or Ohio.

But that is all gone, never to be the same.  In the era of Trump, Canadian interest in visiting the USA has dropped like a stone.  The novelty of going ‘stateside’ for some low-cost alcohol entertainment or shopping has evaporated.  You hardly see Canadian license plates in Buffalo, Detroit or Port Huron today. 

My wife and I don’t go at all anymore.  Not even for a quick shopping excursion to Port Huron to pick up a few things.  The price is too high.  Not the price of the goods nor the exchange rate.  The price we pay is Canadian self reliance and pride.

On our last border crossing, before Donald Trump was elected, I was asked by the Customs Officer in Port Huron, how ‘Canada survived’?  A fair question.  When I thought about it, all he saw was a bunch of Canadians like us, hopping across the border to do some shopping.  He probably couldn’t help but wonder what we did on our side of the border? He guessed not much.

The talk of making Canada the 51^st State has awakened something in this country.  We have selected a Prime Minister with a business background and international credentials.  His job is to form as many alliances as possible that exclude the United States.  To find markets for our minerals, wood and energy products around the world.    

Today’s answer is Canada will survive very well, thanks.  As a Canadian, I don’t take insults easily.  Not from a neighbour with whom we had a friendly, supportive and trusting relationship.  We were under no delusions that our American cousins gave us more than a passing thought or two. They know nothing of our politics, culture or weather.  To them, its snow, maple syrup, hockey and beer.  But they do think we are very nice.  Now that we are not crossing the border, it is ironic that they miss us.   

One day we will probably thank Donald Trump for the kick start.