PETER MACK AY
First elected to office at the tender age of thirty-two in 1997, Peter Gordon MacKay belongs to a new generation of technologically savvy politicians. But this fresh-faced and dynamic parliamentarian received his primary education in a one-room schoolhouse with no running water, a wood stove, and a two-seat outhouse.
“I caught the tail end of the one-room schoolhouse,” boasts MacKay of his good fortune. It was an antiquated beginning, but MacKay describes it as idyllic: “It was like being on the set of an old-time movie. It was perfect.” MacKay thinks many of his generation in rural Canada grew up this way, but in 2006 it’s not a story many forty-year-old Canadians can tell.
Peter remembers the ruggedness and simplicity of the school- house. His hats and mitts were littered with scorch marks from the school’s wood stove. All he had to do to be first in his class was beat Beverly York, the only other student in his grade. To this day, Peter can recall the names of every student in the school, and tell you how their lives have evolved.
For the record, Peter MacKay, born on September 27, 1965, on Temperance Street in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, was the second of four children of Elmer and Macha MacKay. Reflecting on his youth, Peter points out that he was lucky enough to have two additional sets of parents. Indeed, MacKay is as likely to tell stories about his grand- parents as he is about his mom and dad.
His maternal grandfather, Bradin Delap, was born and raised in Rye, Ireland. He was a distinguished and decorated man who served in two world wars and retired from the navy as a commander. He then went to work for Western Union and led the team that laid the first transatlantic cable. The first picture transmitted across that cable was of Peter’s grandmother holding his mother. Ultimately, world travels gave way to a more peaceful setting and life as a blueberry farmer in the Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia. Bradin was a loving, affectionate, and playful man. Whenever the MacKay children would pinch some blueberries from the bushes, Bradin could be heard loudly complaining about “those damn mice,” just so he could enjoy the giggles from the MacKay kids lurking nearby.
Peter’s paternal grandfather, Gordon MacKay, was a machine of a man who often performed legendary feats of toughness and strength. During the depression, when work was scarce and complaints were few, Gordon would impress the locals with his endurance. One memorable day he hauled some heavy equipment between neighbouring farms on his already callused back, the work you would expect of a heavy horse. When he reached the laneway leading to the barn, a crew of three came to take his burden. “Don’t touch it,” Gordon warned. “I’m taking it all the way.” In many ways, he was a twentieth-century version of mythical lumberjack Paul Bunyan. He was a playful man who loved his grandchildren, but he could also be tough. He had a task-oriented and business-minded approach to getting things done, and done right. But he also would help those who were down on their luck. If someone in the community was facing hard times, particularly if they were a visible minority, he would go to the town office and pay their taxes. He owned the local lumber mill and would often send construction materials to hard-working farmers who couldn’t make ends meet. He hired dozens of new immigrants to Canada, mostly Estonians, to work in the woods, paying them in advance. When he was practicing law, Peter would emulate his grandfather by doing pro bono work. On one occasion an elderly black man whom Peter had helped with a charge for petty theft thanked him by saying, “I know who you are. You are the grandson of Gordon MacKay.”
A daily presence in Peter’s life from the start, Gordon MacKay taught Peter how to fish, ride a bike, and change a flat tire. Gordon was also his taskmaster. “He was affectionate and fun; but he was also all about hard work.” If Peter got the sense that life was no dress rehearsal, it was from the lessons imparted by his grandfather. What seems surprising is that through his youth, the often-impatient grandson never once tasted the consequences of letting his parents or grandparents down. “The one thing I would never want to hear from my dad or grandfather was that they were disappointed. To this day, that would be the most cutting thing they could say.”
As a young man, Peter had the presence of mind to tape-record his grandfather, to recall the many amusing and heroic stories and to preserve and revere his voice and persona. The mementoes on dis- play in Peter’s office connect him with his grandparents.
Macha Delap, Peter’s mother, met Elmer MacKay at Acadia University. They were married in 1961 and took up residence first in New Glasgow, where Peter was born. They ultimately settled in the old MacKay homestead in Lorne, in Pictou County, Nova Scotia. For the early years of his life, Peter lived in a world contained within a one-mile radius bounded by his grandfather’s lumber mill, the grist- mill, the outbuildings and barns, the one-room schoolhouse, the apple orchard across the street, and, of course, the fishing stream. Elmer MacKay describes his young son as the quintessential Canadian lad. “He was kind, hard-working, conscientious, and never complained. He always wanted to do what was right.” Elmer recalls a telling incident: “When Peter was about twelve years of age his grandfather let him drive his truck in the back woods. Peter was backing up with the door open and caused some damage. Peter felt bad and gave his grandfather the twenty dollars he had and told him he would get more. Peter’s conscience will always guide him to the right thing.” Although his family had means, Peter was not spoiled either with material goods or praise.
Life took a different turn when Peter was six. His dad, a popular and respected community lawyer, was recruited to be the Progressive Conservative candidate in a federal by-election in Central Nova on May 31, 1971. This was a seat the Liberals were supposed to win. They had finagled the by-election by offering the sitting PC member, Russell MacEwan, a judgeship if he would resign. The Liberals recruited a high-profile broadcaster named Clarrie Mackinnon to carry their banner. It was a tough campaign in a place where everyone knew about hardball politics, the sort of place where the Liberal from the adjacent riding had earned the nickname “god- father.” That’s what they called Liberal heavyweight Allen J. MacEachen, the man who desperately wanted the Liberals to take Central Nova from the Tories. The benefits of having the godfather on your side were noticeable: “You knew right away from the quality of the pavement which riding you were in and who was in government,” said Peter MacKay. But the residents of Central Nova proudly shunned the Liberal government’s goodies and sent Elmer MacKay to Ottawa with a healthy surplus of votes.
The life of a parliamentarian was different in the 1970s: MPs would stay in Ottawa for months at a time, returning home only when the House was not sitting. Elmer’s absences were hard on Peter, and hard on the MacKay marriage; under the stress of politics, it didn’t last two more years.
Macha MacKay took Peter and his siblings to the Delap home- stead in Wolfville. It was only about 250 kilometres from Lorne, but to Peter it felt like the other end of the earth. Being closer to his maternal grandparents was the only thing that redeemed the move. He particularly looked forward to the summers when he would return to Lorne to be with his other grandparents and his father. Lorne was a place to make hay, plant vegetables, fish, and play sports. Peter’s father was one to make sure that play followed work. “He would give me a list of things to do and there would be an accountability session later to see what had been accomplished,” MacKay said. He maintained regular contact with his dad after his parents’ divorce; his grandfather Gordon often drove to Wolfville to pick up the MacKay children for the regular trek to Lorne. Peter’s heart remained in Lorne. It still does.
Peter’s mother was a left-leaning social activist. She rebuilt her post-marriage life by earning a master’s degree in psychology and pursued her passion for international justice and issues of women’s health. With the help of her parents, who often stepped in to care for the four MacKay children, Macha was able to travel and then share her experiences from the Third World with her children. She would often bring home visiting University of Acadia students for supper; the students came from countries of which most people had never heard. The education Peter received by being exposed to his mother’s world was every bit as valuable to his outlook on life as were his more formal studies. As a woman of social conscience, Macha was not blind to the harm done by well-intentioned governments that claimed to be helping the less fortunate. Peter had a sense she was more comfortable with non-governmental organizations than