Kenneth Lata
Father. Grandfather. Golfer. Unlikely survivor. Born July 10, 1924, in Grudziadz, Poland; died Dec. 24, 2016, in Toronto, of cardiac arrest; aged 92.
Born in prewar Poland prematurely at 28 weeks, Ken was given very little chance for survival. Instead, he lived a long and eventful life of 92 years.
Ken was a teenaged victim of the Second World War and the Nazi invasion of Poland; much of his family was killed or displaced in the first days of the war. Ken's life was spared but he was deported to Germany, where he spent the majority of the war as a slave labourer on a potato farm.
When the war turned in the Allies' favour, and shortly after his 18th birthday, he was conscripted into the German army. Deployed to Italy and assigned to a German sniper unit fighting at Monte Cassino, he defected to the Allies and surrendered to join a unit of the Moroccan Goumiers – a move which nearly resulted in his death on the point of a bayonet. After months of vetting, he was enlisted in the Polish Free Army where he served the Allied cause for the remainder of the war.
After the war, Ken won a merit-based scholarship to attend the University of London where he graduated with a business degree in 1952. Here he met his future wife of 65 years, Ruth, a Swiss national. Married in London, they immigrated to Canada two years later, he as a stateless immigrant, with a few dollars and lots of ambition.
Their son Andrew arrived in 1956. In Toronto, Ken continued his studies, passing the chartered-accountant exams and gradually ascending the corporate ladder. He finished his career as president of CCH Canadian, a publishing and tax-information company.
Ken was an avid golfer, though unorthodox in the way many are when introduced to the game later in life. He became a very competent player and walked the course until the age of 86.
Ken also adopted hockey as his favourite sport; he was a diehard and frequently disappointed Leafs fan. Saturday night was reserved for Hockey Night in Canada – especially watching it with his grandsons Michael and Colin. Before and after the game, and at intermission, he played goalie, calling the play by play as the kids peppered him with shots and bruised his shins.
His grandchildren were his true passion – those games far different from my own hockey story with dad. One day I broke the basement window. While replacing it, he cut his finger and slightly cracked the new pane. I pointed out the tiny crack and he sarcastically replied, "You might as well break that one, too." Sarcasm was lost on me at the age of 10 and I immediately fired the ball through the new window. While Dad was sometimes impatient and easily frustrated, this time he laughed, then walked away and phoned a repair man. And I never shot at that wall again.
Ken was a voracious reader and had encyclopedic knowledge of history and current events, but was reluctant to talk about his personal history – especially his wartime experiences, like many of his generation.
Ken was an unlikely survivor and a fighter to the end . He was great company and will be sorely missed.
Andrew Lata is Kenneth's son.