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Devina Zalesky
A Survivor’s Drive to
Reach the Top
by Robin Roberts

Devina Zalesky first discovered she was a survivor at just seven years old. Life had been happy and carefree in her small village of Nausori, Fiji, where her father ran the family rice plantation. Then one day a cyclone ripped through the town. Flood waters rose to the door of the family’s modest home, built on stilts four feet above the ground. Curious to see the wrath of the storm, Devina, a name that means divine, leaned out the door — and was swept straight into the deep water. All that was visible was her waist-length hair, floating on the surface of the water. In a bit of “divine” intervention, her father reached in, grabbed a fist-full of that hair and pulled her to safety, gasping and sputtering. His daughter survived, his farm did not.

With no insurance and no money to rebuild, the family was devastated, wiped out. At one point, her father sold his only suit to buy food. A year later, with still no prospects for income, the family appealed to relatives in Canada to help them immigrate. In 1972, Devina, her parents and two brothers landed in Vancouver with their meagre belongings and hope for a new life. They lived with her mother’s brother for a year, then moved to a basement suite. Two years later, her parents bought their first home, in East Vancouver. It was a new beginning, but that new beginning was also a tremendous upheaval, and it took its toll on Devina’s parents. “We arrived in June, but with our first winter came the unrelenting rain, and it was very depressing for all of us,” remembers Devina, now 46. Her parents soon separated.

Left to raise three kids alone, Devina’s mother worked two jobs. During the day, she labouredat a plastics manufacturing firm. At night, she cleaned office buildings. Devina, at just 12, would often accompany her mom and help her clean the buildings at night. At 13, she had her own job, working at a malt shop. By 16, she was waitressing. Proving herself a reliable worker, despite her young age, Devina was entrusted with opening the restaurant for the day’s business. Weekday mornings at 6 o’clock, she would rise, make her younger brothers’ breakfast and lunch, leave for the restaurant, where she would work until 8, go off to school, work a few more hours afterward, go home to help her mother with supper and other household chores, then fit in time for homework before falling into bed. It was a survivor’s mentality instilled out of necessity, to once again keep her head above water, if only figuratively this time. She knew that if she wanted that better life her family had travelled half-way around the world to find, it required hard work. “I guess I was determined I was not going to continue to live the life that I had lived,” Devina says simply.

It wasn’t an easy integration, however. Devina and her brothers spoke very little English when they arrived in Vancouver. “Basically, I was dropped into school here in Grade 4 and learned English as I went along,” she says. “It really was sink or swim.” Then there was the bullying and teasing in the schoolyard. “I didn’t know what it meant when we were called Pakis or Punjabs,” she says, “or told to go back where we came from. It took a while to learn that this was being said in a mean, racist manner.”

Devina says she coped because she was just so happy and thankful to be in Canada, and constantly praised then- Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau for passing the legislation that made their immigration possible.

Today, Devina’s mother works at a pharmaceutical distributing firm, her younger brother Ro co-owns a beauty supply business. Devina is president of AllWest Insurance Services Ltd., where her younger brother works with her as an insurance broker. Devina’s dad lives with his new family in Alberta, and visits Devina often. “The first time he came to my home, his eyes welled up,” she remembers. “He couldn’t believe where I’d ended up.”

I am in awe of her,” says Devina’s husband, Paul Zalesky, as he looks fondly at his wife. The two are seated in their sumptuous West Vancouver home, overlooking the ocean, a long, long way from Fiji and the struggles of her younger life. “You see that with first-generation immigrants, the desire to just work and have something so much better. There’s such a tremendous appreciation for what we [who were born in Canada] have; new Canadians perceive it as a gift.” But that gift came at a price, as Devina’s struggles were far from over.

At first, it seemed as though her hard work would reward her with the charmed life she so craved. Displaying an aptitude for business during her final year at Britannia Secondary School, her teacher, John Adams, suggested she work for his father, Frank Adams, who owned an insurance company. But she had her sights set higher: she wanted to be a flight attendant, to see more of the world. She even took night courses at BCIT in anticipation of her new high-flying career. Problem was, when PWA, the now-defunct airline she’d applied to, prepared to bond her, they discovered she was only 18 — far too young to work as a flight attendant. So, she followed her teacher’s advice, and went to work at Adams Insurance Group.

“You noticed her when she walked into a room,” recalls her former teacher, John Adams. “She had a really bubbly, cheerleader, outgoing-type personality; she just looked like she had a lot on the ball. She stuck out in my mind as a real people person, and I thought she would do really well in anything dealing with people. So I suggested she go see my dad, and maybe join the family business.” Adams, who, along with his brothers, run the company now that their father has retired, says the young whip didn’t disappoint. Although, as an autoplan agent, the first order of business for the new hire was to learn to drive. “We had a fleet of stick shifts, and she didn’t know how to drive a standard, so I had to show her how,” says Adams, chuckling at the memory. Fortunately, “her work ethic is just outstanding,” he says, and she quickly caught on to the stick shift, and the business. So much so that, within a year, she had moved on. “We were disappointed when she left, but at the same time, we gave her our best. There’s lots of business out there for everybody. And she’s done a fantastic job [with AllWest Insurance]. Last time I saw her, I told her I was really proud of her, of what she’d accomplished.”

Her ambition on overdrive, she was anxious to climb the corporate ladder. But Frank Adams had four sons, and Devina could see her odds of climbing too high would be blocked by a succession of heirs. So, in 1983, she approached Bill Verlaan at Coyle Insurance Agency, one of the largest autoplan agencies in British Columbia. “She came to see me to ask if she could represent our agency,” recalls Verlaan, who bought out Coyle in 1982, and changed the name to AllWest Insurance in 1984. “She looked to potentially be a very good worker, and she turned out to be the best worker I had. What set her apart was her attitude, her efficiency, her drive, her pleasant personality, her good looks — everything. She was exceptional to all the other employees. She had a drive that nobody had. I used her as an example with the other staff on the road, and they were jealous of her. She was making five times the money they were making. She was at it from morning to night, seven days a week. And she always went after the best of vehicles — the Mercedes, the Jaguars, the BMWs. She knew where the money was. She had ways about her of getting dealerships that nobody else could get.”

Devina had joined the company without a car of her own, so Verlaan bought her a brand-new Toyota. Less than two years later, with a solid portfolio of “the best of vehicles,” she went to her boss with a proposition. “She was dealing with the Mercedes Benzes, the BMWs, the Jaguars,” says Verlaan, now retired and living in Kelowna. “Her little Toyota wasn’t quite up to par. So she asked for a monthly car allowance so she could buy herself a Mercedes — very smart on her part. So from then on in, she started driving Mercedes. That’s the type of girl she was; she always looked ahead.”

Looking ahead to March 1986, she laid eyes on the suave and charming Paul Zalesky when she went to prepare a client’s insurance at luxury auto dealer MCL Motorcars, where Paul worked at the time. It was love at first sight. “We really liked each other’s style — hardworking, kind, honest and driven for success,” remembers Devina. One year later, they were engaged; six months after that, they were married in Maui on New Year’s Eve. A year after that, Paul joined his wife at AllWest. For the next few years, the dynamic duo lived an exciting, yet hard-driven, life. Devina worked 14 hours a day, six days a week to achieve the very high bar she’d set for herself. Then, two tragedies, in the form of miscarriages, stopped them in their tracks. They began to re-evaluate their lives and where they were going. At the same time, their company went up for sale. On Valentine’s Day, 1992, they bought AllWest. Including themselves, the staff numbered 18. Today, AllWest is the largest independent autoplan agency in the province, encompassing two divisions, one in Vancouver, the other in North Vancouver, with a staff of over 200. Paul is CEO, Devina is president.

In the midst of acquiring their company, Devina finally had a successful pregnancy with their first son, Stefan. Being a new mom, however, didn’t slow her down. She divided her time and focus between her growing family, which included another son, Mikhail, four years later, and her burgeoning business.

“Of the 972 agencies in B.C., our Vancouver office is the largest, and our North Vancouver office is the second largest,” says Paul proudly. “And you can attribute that all to Devina and her focus. She’s always going the extra mile for someone. I remember a woman called at quarter to 10 one night, upset, saying her insurance had expired and she didn’t know what to do. Devina drove over and gave her a decal and the paperwork. Another time, a woman called to say her house was on fire. She had four Japanese exchange students living in her basement, and somehow the power cords for their computers got tangled up and started the fire. Devina and I, as well as our two sons, jumped in the car and went to her. We got her and her students set up in a hotel, calmed them, and reassured them an adjuster would be over in the morning. People are always so astonished and impressed that Devina would make the effort to do that. If you’ve got the ability to help, then you do it. You can’t turn a blind eye in an emotional moment. And that’s been our company motto: always go the extra mile, always care, whether it be for a corporation, an individual, or a family. Whatever Devina can do to help, she’s done. Even when the staff have a personal problem, they’ll call her before they’ll call their parents.”

Paul and Devina’s assistant, and the company’s manager of corporate relations, Dana Voynovich, concurs. “Devina’s a very generous individual. When she started, she didn’t have much, and she draws her strength from that. When she sees people struggling, she’s willing to extend a helping hand. I consider them my friends as well as my employers. They treat me well and I treat them well; we have a good relationship. We’ve been for dinner, we’ve vacationed together. But when I’m here, I’m here to work, I have a job to do, and they recognize that. When we’re not working, we can have a great time, kick off the heels kind of thing.”

Voynovich says she’s tried to get her boss to take the occasional time out, with varying success. “Devina integrates herself fully into the company, and that’s because it’s something she’s worked very hard at. You can’t just completely relinquish the reins and sit back and feel relaxed. That’s part of who she is. If it’s stressful, though, I’ll tell her to shut the Berry off. Yeah, that’ll last for about two seconds. Then her little fingers will inch over and she’ll push it back on!”

As picture-perfect as the Zaleskys’ lives were, however, they were not immune to more misfortune. In 2004, Devina survived her second brush with death. While vacationing in Italy, she was sitting on the window sill of her hotel. The windows were wide open, as the couple tried to catch a breeze in the 34-degree evening heat. She lost her balance, fell and impaled herself on a small potted palm tree below. She was emergency airlifted to a hospital in Zurich, Switzerland, suffering from internal bleeding, a concussion, severed carotid artery, fractured clavicle, ribs and coccyx, and lacerated liver. She underwent surgery, spent a week in intensive care, then another week in a recovery ward. The bill: $285,000 US. “A testament to good travel insurance,” says Paul, wryly.

To Devina, it was a life-altering experience. “I nearly died,” she says. “I realized in an instant how truly precious life is. I was afraid I would never see my sons again. I now value each day, and try to live it to its fullest.”

Then, in November 2007, yet another blow. While working out at the gym, Devina found she didn’t have her usual energy. She hadn’t been feeling quite right, and was grappling with a persistent cough. She went to her doctor, who sent her for tests, including a mammogram. “They found a lump,” she says solemnly. She had routinely done her own breast exams, as had her doctor. Neither discovered the lump. She remembers very clearly the day she was given the news. “It was January 17, 2008. I was driving home from the doctor’s office, crying, not thinking clearly. I was in shock. I must have been driving erratically, as I was reaching for tissues, trying to see through my tears. A police officer pulled me over. When he saw me, he asked what was wrong. I told him, and he hugged me. He even offered to drive me home.”

As devastated as she was, Devina says one of her first thoughts was that she would beat it. “I told myself I would get through this no matter what,” she recalls. “I would see my sons graduate and get married.”

She underwent her first surgery, a lumpectomy, two months later, followed by radiation therapy. Then she had a second surgery to remove some lymph nodes, to be on the safe side. This was followed by a course of anti-cancer drugs called Tamoxifen, which triggered a severe allergy. Those were traded for a different drug, via injections, once a month, directly into her ovaries. The pain was excruciating, and her reaction adverse, once again. “Now I’m just going to get my ovaries removed,” she says, with resignation. Removing the ovaries stops production of estrogen, which reduces the risk for a potential recurrence of the cancer. That procedure is scheduled for June, and her prognosis looks good. She’s survived again.

Reflecting on a very challenging year, Devina says if there’s one thing she knows now that she wishes she’d known then, it’s the importance of a mammogram. “There was no history of cancer in my family, on either side,” she says. “You hear about it, but you never think it’s going to happen to you. I wish I’d gotten a mammogram earlier. I tell everyone over 40 to get one.”

Always a close couple, the diagnosis has brought Paul and Devina even closer. “When I gave him the news, he told me to be strong, that he loved me more than anything. He is my rock,” she says of her husband, who stayed up late most nights, researching all he could about breast cancer, and her treatment options. Last year, he participated in the BC Cancer Foundation’s two-day, 60-km Weekend to End Breast Cancer in his wife’s honour, raising over $50,000. It was the largest individual donation that year. Today, Devina’s cut back on work, but just marginally — from 70-80 hours a week, to 65-70 hours a week. The joy she still derives from her business keeps her distracted, she says. “You don’t want to think about it,” she says of the cancer. “The more active you are, the better you are. Certain days you’re down because of all the medication, what your body’s going through.”

Dana Voynovich says, while many people take the “less you know, less you’re scared” approach to such a diagnosis, Devina has been the opposite. “She armed herself with a lot of information. She took the bull by the horns, which is the way she is anyway, so it doesn’t surprise me. There are times, I’m sure, when she was at home and felt very alone and very sad. But you didn’t see a lot of that when she was at the office or anywhere else. She just kept very busy, which was not difficult for her.” Voynovich admits her jaw dropped when her boss told her the news. “I was shocked. I had a panic attack and everything went woozy. It hit too close to home. It starts to make you think, all the things you used to be worried about, the colour of your car, the drapes in the living room. None of it is important; it doesn’t matter.”

While Devina and Paul have travelled extensively — their home is filled with huge paintings, sculptures and statues of Asian and Indonesian art, as well as a massive, century-old royal kimono under glass, brought back from their trips — there are still many destinations on their must-see list. One of those is India, the homeland of Devina’s grandparents before they sailed to Fiji to work the sugar canes. Although they both died when she was very young, Devina would like to some day make a pilgrimage to see their roots, around Madras, and to ensure her sons know their heritage. They already have a head start: Offspring of two ethnicities — Paul’s Russian/Ukrainian — Stefan, now 19, and Mikhail, 15, consider themselves first and foremost brown. They even attend Diwali, and understand a bit of Hindi, since Devina and her mother have spoken to them in the language from the time they were babies.

For now, however, the Zaleskys’ excursions will be a little closer to home. Devina recently added a long-coveted pet project to her list of distractions. “I’ve always wanted to buy a place in Palm Springs,” she says, “and when I was diagnosed, we went down in March and bought a place. We gutted it, redesigned it, did the whole interior decorating. I love spending a lot of time there in the desert. It uplifts my spirits each and every morning when I wake up.”

Today, however, Devina gazes out at a spring storm gathering over the grey Pacific. Somewhere on the other side of that rolling ocean, thousands of miles and a lifetime away, is Fiji. Where she first learned to survive.

View full story in eMehfil.