Feature Office to protest the provincial govern- ment’s decision to cut single men off relief. When RCMP clubs ended the Post Office occupation early in the morning on June 19 — Fathers’ Day — the hall was turned into a field hospital as supporters of the hall acted swiftly to assist the injured. Many of them battered by police clubs and reeling from the tear gas, the unem- ployed came to the hall where they were tended to, both inside the hall and outside on the grounds. “It was like an army field hospital — they were lined up on the grass like cordwood,” says Chitrenky. When the World War II broke out, the hall itself became the target of federal government orders. On June 5, 1940, the Ukrainian Labour Farmer Temple Association was banned ~ by order-inecouncil under the Defence of Canada Regulations. Within weeks, some 36 leaders of the ULFTA were arrested and interned in concentration camps at Petawawa, Hull and elsewhere. Across the country, halls were seized and in several cases, libraries were turned over to junk paper firms for destruction. In Vancouver, although the police did not move initially to take over the hall, Chi- trenky says, “the executive in Toronto instructed me to turn over the keys to the police,” presumably in an effort to save the library and other materials from des- truction. “IT remember going down to the police station to give them the keys and they looked at me as if to say: ‘What the hell do we want with these?’ ” he relates. The hall remained closed for some time but by the following year, agents of the Custodian of Enemy Property were instructed to sell the halls. Assigning the task to that particular agency was a gross insult since the ULFTA had consistently backed the war effort and had maintained an anti-fascist position — evidenced by the fact that ULFTA members volun- teered for military service immediately on their release from internment. Unable to solicit satisfactory bids, the government then took another insulting step — it sold the halls to representatives of the Ukrainian nationalist organizations, some of which had Nazi leanings. The move outraged ULFTA members across the country. “T remember one old-timer was so TRIBUNE PHOTOS — SEAN GRIFFIN incensed that he took a long stick and went around the outside of the hall and broke every window that he could reach. Then he sat down on the front steps and waited for the police to come,” Chitrenky recalls. It was following the war that the pro- gressive Ukrainian movement was able to regain the hall, but not until after a huge cross-country campaign, backed by unions, churches and dozens of other organizations forced the federal govern- ment to return the ULFTA halls to their rightful owners. In June, 1945, Chitrenky recalls, thousands of people marched from the Yugoslav hall on Campbell Avenue (now the Russian Hall) to the Ukrainian Hall, filling Pender Street for most of a block as they celebrated the hall’s return. Since the end of the war, the hall has been the home of the Association of Uni- ted Ukrainian Canadians (for a brief period it was the Association of Ukrainian Canadians, formed in 1945 while the ULFTA was still formally under a ban- ning order). And although the times have changed dramatically, the hall is still the centre of the AUUC’s activities, says the Organization’s provincial secretary Nadya Niechoda. Niechoda, who grew up in the Ukrain- ‘ ian organization in Winnipeg and has been working in the AUUC in Vancouver for the past 10 years, says that the hall “isn’t the same as it was before the cold war years, but we’re trying to find a new field and we’re succeeding.” Many Ukrainians who drifted away from the hall over the years “are starting to come back, wanting to maintain con- tact with their roots,” she adds. For many, the changes taking place in the Soviet Union and the renewed interest in Ukrainian culture are important, she says, noting that “‘perestroika has had a lot to do with it.” Every year, the hall also hosts artists from the Ukraine for the annual Folkfest celebrations and the artists spark consid- erable interest, particularly when they travel to other centres in the province. For others, it’s a desire to let their own children have the cultural upbringing and the close contact among several genera- tions that the hall has traditionally pro- vided. Dianna Kleparchuk, the director of the AUUC School of Dancing for the past 20 years, notes that the number of kids enrolled in the school has climbed in the last couple of years to about 80 students this year, spread over eight dance groups. Kleparchuk, who herself had danced at the hall from the age of four, says that there has been “a real continuity of gener- ations” in the dance school, particularly since the older students also work as instructors for the pre-school and elemen- tary school-age dancers. Although instruc- tors are paid, she adds, “it’s not much more than gas money — they do it because they want to and because they SUNDAY’S PHOTOS PHOTO want to pass on their heritage.” For the top performing group, the Dovbush Dancers, whose members range in age from 14 to 28, there are also Oppor- tunities to travel to dance seminars in the Ukraine as well as to take trips to the Saskatchewan School of the Arts. But even the day-to-day schedule can at the hall be rigorous. Led by instructor Joan Kowalewich — one of Chitrenky’s two daughters, both of whom teach danc- ing at the hall — the group rehearses twice a week and averages four perfor- mances a month. Earlier this month, the group per- formed at a benefit for the Carpenters Local 1928 members on strike at Citation Industries. It’s all part of the AUUC’s continuing cultural contribution to the community and the progressive move- ment. In addition to the dance groups, the hall is also home to the Vancouver Folk Orchestra, the Jubilee choir and the a cappella Lyonok Trio. And although it can’t yet boast the same numbers as the dance school, the Ukrainian language school has also demonstrated the renewed interest. Language teacher Betty Thomas, one of a relative few from the generation now in their 40s who speaks fluent Ukrainian, says that her enrolment for the Saturday morning classes is up to about 25 kids. Most are from families where at least one parent is of Ukrainian background although there are even a few whose par- ents are non-Ukrainian. Several have been with her for a number of years and “are able to hold a conversation.” But even for some of the younger ones, the knowledge of several words “helps bring the generations closer together, since they can say a few words to their grandparents and even understand a few things here and there,” she says. “Twenty years ago, no one was much interested in learning Ukrainian but it’s become a lot more important lately to find out about your heritage,” she says. As to the future of the hall, Thomas is optimistic that it will continue to be an important centre of activity. “But it can’t Just be a community centre,” she emphas- izes, ‘it has to have a progressive direction. It’s important to have a place where peo- ple share their heritage — but also share some common ideas and particularly a working class philosophy.” Kleparchuk notes that many people come back to the hall because “they like the comradeship and the fact that people look out for one another. And people do share a certain political philosophy — an interest in the peace movement and things like that.” In that, there is a tradition that goes back 60 years and more. “It won’t be the same in the future as it was in the ‘30s, or the way it was before we came through the cold war years,” says Niechoda. “But there will be a Ukrainian Hall.” Sa cai ak Sas ae rs eae Photos, clockwise from bottom left: Hundreds of supporters throng the street outside the hall in 1945 after a huge campaign forced the federal government to return it from war-time seizure: Ukrainian language teacher Betty Thomas with some of her students; AUUC chair John Chitrenky outside the hall, December, 1988; the Yalenka Dancers in Saturday morning rehearsal; Dianna Kleparchuk, director of the AUUC’s School of Dancing. Mo Ais Gy Bae Sh a sicesamaci qubcintiimmiaisammenmea aoe seeecoeeees ae