Farewell to the Roxy

East Kildonan

I took piano lessons in primary school, and my teacher taught from her home in the first house at Larsen Avenue and Henderson Highway, next to the Hot Rod Diner (now closed), which was previously the popular Dutch Maid. Every week, I walked past the bustling Roxy Lanes bowling alley, filled with happy people.

When I was in high school, one of my classmates was Rob Gauthier. He and his wife Melissa were the last owners of the Roxy. Back then, Rob had newly moved from Red Lake where his family had run a hotel. He sometimes gave me a ride home from school on his motorcycle during my recovery from a broken knee and many surgeries. His family had a beautiful home on Bredin Drive, close to the bowling lanes, which had opened in 1929 as the Roxy Theatre. When I lamented not having a job after graduation, Rob suggested I talk to his mom, Tilly. Their family ran the Westminster Hotel (now the Sherbrook Inn).

So it was that when I turned 19 years old, I attended university classes all week, volunteered as a tour guide in the Historic Exchange District, and on Saturdays I worked at the Westminster Hotel café at 7:30 in the morning and was there full-time in the summer. It was one of the best times of my life.

My brother often dropped by for lunch, as he was now living nearby on Cornish Avenue after recently moving out of our family home. The job gave me a sense of identity and self esteem for the transition to university. The café was a happy and busy place, keeping me sharp for university studies. At this time, Rob was working in the mining industry back in Red Lake.

Fast forward decades, and one summer day I walked into Roxy Lanes’ open door and wandered up the familiar staircase to the second level, curious about the heritage structure. Peering out the front windows to the beautiful vista of Roxy Park (as we called it), I suddenly heard a voice.

“Hey, do you remember me?”

It was Rob, and of course I did. We happily got up to speed on our lives and he spoke affectionately about the new business and fhis wife Melissa, describing how together they were reinvigorating the lanes. He proudly showed me his wedding band.

“Come see this”, he said enthusiastically. He led me to the basement where the Roxy’s movie projectors were stored, along with some original front doors, which reflected the style and energy of the time, visible in early photos of the building.

Rob’s illness and death in 2022 was heartbreaking to many people. Rob was one of those people who would quietly lend a hand, even when he didn’t have to at all. The waitressing job at the bustling café was a happy constant at a time when life greatly changed for my family. During this time, my brother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. My job at the cafe was a secure and pleasant base for me when I truly needed it.

Seeing the closed Roxy shining brightly all these months (it was just down my street) has helped me work through these memories. Now that the building has been demolished to make way for a new housing project of the Manitoba Métis Federation, I know the beautiful Roxy Park vista I saw that day when running into Rob will be there for others who, like me in a way so long ago, are in need of a secure base in a city where homelessness is dire and accessible housing is desperately needed.