On July 8, in his 96th year, Michael left this world to join his adored wife Alexandra. Beloved father of Terry (Pam) and Helen, and cherished by an extended family of relatives and friends, Michael’s presence, his hearty laugh, perceptive mind, and his often hilariously unique use of the English language will be missed by all who knew him.

Born on Aetos Greece, Michael landed at Halifax’s Pier 21 in May of 1962 with his wife Alexandra, young Terry, a suitcase and a trunk. They took a train to Toronto to begin their life in Canada. Life was challenging, and Michael worked hard to learn English, and find a situation that would support his family in his newly adopted country. He found that at the Toronto Brick Company, where he worked for the next 25 years, rising to the level of chief production chemist before his retirement in 1988. In 1965 he bought a home on Dilworth Crescent in East York and lived there for there next 60 years. With Helen’s birth in 1967, Michael’s family was complete. He worked diligently to provide a home and security, within which his family could thrive.

After many happy years together, engaging in the stuff of life: family trips, community engagement, home renovations, meals and outings with friends, sitting on the front porch in the sunshine on a warm summer afternoon, it was in December of 2019 that Michael’s beloved wife Alexandra suffered a stroke. When Alexandra returned home from convalescence, Michael cared for her until her passing, with a sensitivity and attentiveness that only a lifetime of love could foster.

Michael loved his family, food and his church. This order would change depending on his mood. A militant do-it-yourself-er, he had the knack of being able to fix or enhance just about anything around the house, although a close call with a live TV tube convinced him that electrical was maybe not his thing. He would enjoy BBQing in the back yard on weekends and holidays, and would drive for miles around the city to find the just the right cut of meat, block of cheese, or the freshest fish and vegetables. Michael loved to sing and was a well respected cantor in the Greek Orthodox community throughout Toronto and southern Ontario. In the late 1960’s, he was lead cantor at Easter services attended by the Archbishop at Maple Leaf Gardens, and over subsequent years participated in services at the Greek Orthodox Churches of St. George, St. Dimitrios, St. Irene, St. Nicholas and lastly St. John.

As his mobility declined, it was with the help of family, notably Helen’s stalwart and unrelenting commitment to his care and the food that he so enjoyed, as well as the indispensable efforts of the Toronto Spectrum Homecare Service, Michael was able to live in his home until days of his passing. Terry and Helen would like to extend special thanks and much gratitude to Josie Naipaul his longtime Personal Support Worker, and to his friend and neighbour Patrick McCartney for his assistance around the property, and with whom he shared many visits, laughs, and of course, food. In lieu of flowers, kindly consider a donation in Michael’s name to Dr. Georg Bjarneson’s research in Kidney Cancer, care of the Sunnybrook Foundation.

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Michael Lipitkas
1929-2025

Born in the village of Aetos Greece, Michael was the 4th of Tryfon and Helen Lipitkas’ five children. Michael’s exact date of birth is somewhat unsettled. His documents state that he was born on May 7, 1929, but… his mother Helen always claimed that this was incorrect, that the village registrar was a worthless drunk, and that he was actually born “when the corn was high”. So, we always celebrated his birthday on August 4.

The village of Aetos is in the North of Greece at the base of a mountain close the the border of Albania and what was then Yugoslavia. The Lipitkas’ were farming folk and when Mike (I am going to call him Mike from now on, because everyone did) was old enough, he was sent off to herd the goats as his daily routine. When the family switched to sheep, he herded the sheep. He attended school in the one-room village schoolhouse. Once, while up the mountain herding he fell asleep beside a tree, waking only to find himself surrounded by a collection of poisonous snakes that populated the mountain, slumbering in the warmth radiated by his body. It appears that he was a very nimble youngster to escape unharmed.

The guns, ravages and privations of war and occupation were the stuff of Mike’s second decade of life. Aetos faced severe food rationing and the family lost most of their animal stock by the end of the occupation. Again while up in the mountain, Mike’s attention was attracted by two allied soldiers trapped behind enemy lines. They were Australians, and much to the surprise of his parents, Mike snuck them into the family house under the cover of night. This was a grave offence that could have had catastrophic consequences to the family and the village. Yet, his father, who had been to America and spoke English, took them in, fed them, gave access to a bath, drew them a map, and with young Mike as their guide they snuck out of the village in the pre-dawn and into the into the valley, and hopefully to their freedom.

The end of World War II was followed by the Greek Civil war which was, in many ways, more vicious than its predecessor. Villages in the area were raided by rebels from the north for young men, to be used as beasts of burden and cannon fodder. Unexploded ordnance from WWII dotted the countryside. One day in the summer of 1946, while running off to the river to swim with some village friends, Mike unexpectedly found himself mid-backflip as his bare foot slipped on the deadly metal of a half-buried Tellermine. This German anti-tank landmine was 30cm across, and packed with 5.5 kg of TNT. A crater would have marked the end of Mike and his friends. Luckily, the force of Mike’s foot was under the mine’s trigger weight or he missed the trigger completely. It did not explode. After reporting the mine to the local authorities, the lads were locked up and interrogated for two days on suspicion of being rebel operatives. Such were the times.

For Mike’s dad, Tryfon, this was the last straw. Having already lost his eldest son Bill to a rebel raid, and not wanting to test the ongoing luck of his youngest, he sent 17 year old Mike to the nearest garrisoned town, Amyndeon, to study as a shoemaker’s apprentice. Mike’s time in Amyndeon was spent on more than shoes…born with two left feet, and with the help of some local partners, he learned to ballroom dance, a skill that served him well all his life. Amazingly, one day, while working at the shoemaker’s shop, he spied his brother Bill, dishevelled, malnourished and limping badly, in a chain of captured rebels that was being paraded through town. Mike dashed back to the village and informed his parents, who gave him a stash of gold coins with which he paid for his brother’s freedom from the authorities.

Alas, Mike’s luck did not hold, and one day while visiting his parents in the village, Mike was swept up in a rebel raid and was put in charge of a donkey loaded with munitions. His job was leading the donkey on mine-dotted paths though the mountains to deliver and re-supply ammunition to the rebels.
Mindful of this job’s long-term prospects, Mike hatched a plan to fake a debilitating illness. A plan that he slowly and methodically implemented over a number of weeks. A plan that worked. After a guarded visit to a doctor to confirm Mike's inability to perform his "duties", he was deemed useless to the rebel cause and unceremoniously left in Kastoria to make his way home.

Now old enough to be conscripted into the Greek army, Mike showed an aptitude for Morse Code and came in at the top of his class as a wireless operator. Stationed not too far from Aetos, gave him the opportunity to court a certain village beauty named Alexandra, who had caught his eye. Later in the war when he was being re-stationed in Athens, He asked her father Bill for Alexandra’s hand and asked Alexandra to wait for him to return. She was as coy as ever, but wait she did, and their courtship resumed on his return after the war. Love blossomed. Dances, outings, picnic, rendezvous…Mike remembered it as the most thrilling, fulfilling and memorable time of his life. Helen and Terry are ok with that.
Mike and Alexandra were married on a bitterly cold day in November of 1955. There was no heat in the church, and they were married at the family home. It was cozy quarters, but there was dancing and celebration.

We are much more acquainted with Mike’s life in Canada. Landing at Pier 21 with Alexandra and young Terry in 1962. His work at Toronto Brick. The house on Dilworth Cres. The birth of Helen (on the same day that the Leafs last won the Cup BTW) in 1967. A premier Cantor for the Greek Orthodox Community. His neighbourly-ness, and his love for children. His deep affection for Lisa the family cat. His Mike-isms. His love of food, good Greek food. Greek food made the right ingredients. His way. His sausages and souvlaki were a delicacy. The BBQ his canvas.

But did you know that he was a successful matchmaker? He found grooms for two young brides who, at the behest of relatives from Greece, he sponsored to Canada for just that purpose. They billeted at Dilworth while Mike beat the bushes and pews for just the right match. When he succeeded, he would walk the bride up the aisle with the air of a job well done.

Mike had an interesting set of facets to his personality that were galvanized by the seminal events of his youth. He was shrewd and insightful, yet he could take a false premise to an erroneous conclusion with the best of them. He would easily determine when Helen or I were being loose with the truth and warn us with a classic Mike-ism “Don’t tell me Monkey Story!”. He provided a safe, warm, and stable home for his family, and took great pride in that.

He had an uncanny knack for seeing right through subterfuge. You could not maneuver him with guile. He was very suspicious of the easy deal, yet for a little while there after he retired, he thought a “part time job” playing the slots at Woodbine would pay off. He realized that was not the case and fired himself soon enough.
Having a brim size of 8 3/4 made it difficult to buy him hats, but the brain inside that big head never lost its spark, the eyes ever clear and bright. He scrutinized the bank statements right up until his final decline.
He loved to talk politics, and alway took the side of the underdog. He hated war and oppression. He had firm views on how life should be lived and was not afraid to pass them on to you. And once set, changing his mind was like drilling granite. He was a man of passions. Passions that never got in the way of a good nap.

Mike had an uncanny ability to make a quick exit from situations that no longer suited his mood. On July 8, 2025 in his 96th year on this earth, Mike did so one final time, to be reunited with his beloved Alexandra.

Rest easy Mike. Your memory lives in all of us.