Boy in the blue jacket

Chet Janik’s journey from Poland to Cedar, to baseball and Leelanau County government

By Jacob Wheeler

Sun editor

“Depending on how you look at things, it was either pure chance or divine intervention,” Chet Janik laughed as he described how he was able to leave Communist Poland as a young boy and immigrate to Cedar, Michigan. “Without the town supporting my great uncle, and without the kindness of the consular official, I never would have grown up here.”

Reflecting on his life in the United States and his career as he winds down his time as Leelanau County’s longest serving administrator, Chet narrated the journey with vivid details. His father’s uncle, Joe, left Poland in 1910 at age 17, used a false name and I.D. to pass through Ellis Island because he was legally too young to immigrate, then settled in Cedar, where the Janik family had been since approximately 1900. He made many friends among the mostly Polish-speaking community and “Cabbage Joe” ran a 40-acre cabbage farm between Cedar and Traverse City, which he harvested until the year before he died.

In 1959, Joe was invited to a surprise birthday party at the Cedar Town Hall, where his friends announced they had pooled enough money together to help buy him an airplane ticket to visit his homeland for the first time. Poland in the 1950s was a bleak place, following the Nazi occupation during the Second World War and locked behind the Soviet Iron Curtain. While visiting his ancestral village an hour south of Krakow, Joe suggested to his youngest nephew— Chet’s father, Joseph—that they join him in America, though the odds of being allowed to leave Poland were “between slim and none.” Most citizens faced a 5-10-year wait to even get an interview with a government official. Nevertheless, Joseph and his wife, Irene, added their names to the list and somehow scored an interview several months later.

At the consular meeting in Krakow, the Russian official spoke through a translator. His tone of voice was curt and rude, Chet was told. “There’s no way you moved to the front of the line so fast,” he said. “There’s no way.”

Irene sat and cried in the lobby while Joseph visited the restroom. The Russian official happened to walk into the room, saw Joseph and told him, this time in Polish, “Don’t say a word to anyone, but come with me.” Joseph followed him to his office, where the Russian stamped their passports. They could leave Poland.

The Janiks sold nearly all their belongings for the trip in October 1961. Each person was allowed to leave with no more than $5 and no more than 20 pounds of clothing. Chet, who was born in a horse stable attached to the house, was 4 years old. They traveled by train to Warsaw, flew to Brussels, then New York, then Saginaw, then Traverse City, and joined their family in Cedar. A photo taken of the family when they arrived in Michigan shows Chet, his short blonde hair mopped over his forehead and wearing a winter blue jacket with woolen fabric and light brown wooden buttons. Chet didn’t speak a word of English until he attended kindergarten at the local elementary school, followed by Holy Rosary for grades 1-8, then high school at Glen Lake.

An early mentor, Al Laskey, who was 47 years older than Chet and lived two houses away, became “like a grandfather” and introduced Chet to baseball. Laskey was the custodian and bus driver at Glen Lake, spoke Polish, and “had a unique way of connecting with people,” recalled Chet. As kids, Laskey and his brothers had each been assigned to pick one baseball team to root for, so he picked the Cleveland Indians. Chet would spend many summer evenings at Laskey’s house listening to the Indians (now called the Guardians) play ball. The experience kindled the boy’s love for baseball and collecting baseball cards.

“I bought three bags of cards from the early ’60s for $5 from a friend who lost interest in them,” Chet told me with boyish delight during a recent interview at his office in the Leelanau County Government Center. Chet’s father didn’t understand his love for baseball, but he nevertheless built his son wooden boxes for the cards. “Unlike most kids, I took great care of them,” said Chet. “I didn’t put them in my [bike] wheels.”

Today his collection of baseball cards is worth a substantial amount and includes several cards that sell for hundreds of dollars on the market. His cards feature Hall of Famers Mickey Mantle, Hank Aaron, Joe Morgan, Steve Carleton, Eddie Mathews, and Orlando Cepeda. He has cards from 1908, though unfortunately no copies of the American Tobacco Honus Wagner card, which recently sold for more than $7 million. “If I had that card, I wouldn’t be here [working at the Government Center],” he chuckled.

Chet’s love for baseball helped him forge bonds that were useful in his job in county government. When Jeff Katofsky, a California developer, attorney and Minor League baseball team owner, acquired and sought to reopen Sugar Loaf, Leelanau’s onetime ski resort, the two men shared baseball stories. Chet told Katofsky he had traveled to Detroit in 2003 for a Yankees game in which pitcher Roger Clemens was attempting his 300th win against the hapless Tigers (who would lose 119 games that year). The national media descended on Comerica Park, the game was sold out, and the Yankees led 5-0 in the fifth inning before blowing the lead and costing Clemens his historic victory. Chet couldn’t forgive the star pitcher, he told Katofsky.

A month later, Chet received a package with a signed baseball from Roger Clemens and a note: “Sorry for the disappointment.” (One of Clemens’ sons once played for Katofsky’s Minor League, the Orem Owlz.)

Chet’s warmth, his mastery of conversation and small talk, has made him a popular Leelanau County administrator since he took the job in 2012. Prior to that he worked at Northwestern Michigan College for 21 years, as superintendent at Buckley School for three years and Charlevoix Public School for five years. His final day as administrator will be Dec. 30, though his successor, Deborah Allen, just presented a proposal to the County Commission for Chet to continue as a consultant for up to three months in the new year.

“Each Monday I try to walk around the building and just ask staff how they’re doing and about their families,” Chet said. “If I know you, and you know me, there’s a respect. That comes from my days as a school superintendent. The more relationships you can form, the better.

“If you don’t have relationships, you can have best idea in the world, but it won’t go anywhere.”

Early in December I joined Chet at a weekly Rotary luncheon at the V.I. Grill in Suttons Bay and watched him work the room, using humor and handshakes to solidify relationships. Business leaders, journalists and school principals were there. So was 101-year-old D-Day veteran Dick Grout. When Chet introduced his other guest, Jerry Culman, a longtime Leelanau County government employee, he promised the crowd that Culman would return the following week and perform an Elvis impersonation.

During his 11 years as administrator, Chet told me he has enjoyed meeting great people and spending time in the community. He has made a point to meet Leelanau citizens in an environment that is comfortable to them. “If I had to meet someone outside of the office, I have always tried to meet them in their community, in a coffee shop or often over a meal at their home. I’ve had some great meals I wasn’t planning on.”

A key facet of the job has been to educate people about what county government can and cannot do. “Many people with complaints falsely assume that the county has the authority to overrule townships. I still get those calls.”

The successes of which he’s most proud include the County’s work with the senior services program and commission on aging to become more hands-on and keep senior citizens in their homes. He’s also proud that Bridge Michigan named Leelanau County one of best managed counties in the state.

But the challenges ahead highlight, above all, the need for affordable housing.

“We’re one of the oldest counties in the state, and among the most expensive,” lamented Chet. “Last year the average cost of a house in the County was $600,000. Where does a young family working blue collar jobs live? You’re not going to live in [low-cost] Buckley and drive to Leland to work at the Bluebird.”

Chet’s affability has helped him navigate a tone in county government that has grown far more rancorous and partisan than it was when he started 10 years ago. Then Republicans controlled the Board of Commissioners, 6 seats to 1; now Democrats have a 4–3 edge for the first time in Leelanau County history. The caustic division in national politics have infiltrated this pleasant peninsula, too. Janik said that a man comes to nearly every board meeting and harps unfounded allegations about election fraud.

The successful push last year by Republican commissioners, along party lines, to restructure the county’s human resources and finance departments continues to pose headaches for Janik and county government staff. The finance director just resigned—the third to do so since the job was created in October 2021.

“That’s been very stressful for everyone, including staff and commissioners. It caused ill will, externally and internally,” said Chet. “It wasn’t an issue until 18 months ago.”

He hopes that with four new commissioners starting in January, the board and his successor Allen will have a clean slate and can resolve the impasse. He emphasizes that, while the board splits 4–3 on big issues including septic codes and early childhood education, most votes have unanimous support.

“My advice to Deb is ‘Don’t get overwhelmed. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.’ No one expects her to come in and be an expert on these things. ‘Go to seminars, use common sense. Ask questions.’”

Correction: The version of this story which ran in our December 15 print edition incorrectly stated that Chet Janik’s mentor Al Laskey was 67 years older than him. In fact, Laskey was 47 years older than Janik. We regret the error.

This story was sponsored by the Martin Company.