It was approximately 10:00AM on May 3rd, 2016. It was a sunny warm day, with a smoky smell lingering in the air. I was working a backshift at Suncor Oil Refinery as a general laborer the night before. It was a long, tedious night shift involving dirty grunt work inside a larger vessel. It was a dry epoxy compound to help repair inside a vessel from future work. The material was relentless as even with the proper personal protective equipment I found myself with a slight rash or burn from the compound. This is not a story of how a shift of my work went, but the day the town I made a home in burned down. A day, I will never forget.
I approach the CBI health Clinic in Thickwood at approximately 10:00AM. I had worked the night before for 12 hours and came home immediately to head to the doctor to check on a skin reaction which I could only presume was from a compound I was working with. I sat there in the small office sitting in the black uncomfortable, stiff chair. The yellow painted walls gave a sense of comfort, but I remained uneasy. The fact I had been awake for 16 hours could have had something to do with this as well, but when you work long hours and night shift you get used to the feeling. It was hours before I had spoke to anyone. I was waiting hours before I saw a doctor. I thought about leaving many times but given my Virgo stubbornness I’d wait here since I had already perched my sorry ass in this uncomfortable black chair until I’d see a doctor. It’s about 1:00 PM and I finally see the doctor. He was very concerned that it could be a chemical burn, but I ensured him that I was using proper procedure, but in any regard, he prescribed me some cream and suggested I’d see the hospital ER doctor to test my bloodwork as well. The next footstep into my day would be one hell of a dark footstep. It was a stairway to hell.
People to the left of me, sitting at the intersection cross walk gazing at the hellish cloud that lingered in the sky. It was surreal to stare at. The stark contrast of hell, but meanwhile to the right it looked like a beautiful, warm spring day in Fort McMurray, Alberta. The people had their phones out taking photos. The darkness was so overwhelming that you could not help but stop and gaze at it. I felt as if I was in a horror movie and you see the monster. The protagonists sit there in awe gazing meanwhile an outside watching the film is thinking to themselves:” WHAT ARE YOU DOING…RUN YOU FOOL.” This was how I felt when I opened door after being isolated in the bright yellow, stale smelling doctor’s office.
The smoke was grand, ominous and strong. As an asthmatic it was difficult to maintain a fresh breath of air to satisfy my disease-ridden lungs. I pondered what my next move was because I went from having a plan (go to doctors, get treatment, go home to meal prep for work that night, sleep, back to work) to being completely confused. At this moment I felt completely astray. The ominous nature of this weird dark smoke led me to believe something bad was about to happen, but I was in disbelief or denial. I still at this point refused to believe that a large portion of this town of Fort McMurray was about to be engulfed in flames causing over 80, 000 people to flee frantically over the course of 24 hours. My Virgo stubbornness plays another part in this tale as instead of going home at this instance to pack my bags and head for the city…I decided to go back to the hospital as the doctor recommended.
It is about 2:20PM and I’m headed downtown Fort McMurray to the Northern Lights Hospital. The highway is so congested. It is not grid-locked at this point, but very congested. I went downtown and noticed it was vastly different compared to headed South towards highway 63. Downtown was gridlocked. I at this point decided to call my girlfriend at the time to inform her something dark was about to happen or happening right now. I remember her voice on the phone. It sounded fearful and unknown. She was fleeing her home in Beacon Hill (which would later be known to be one of the worst damaged areas in the town, if not the worst). They were headed downtown to stay put at their mother’s office, but they also felt that same feeling of uneasiness and decided to opt for what I was about to do next: grab some clothes and head straight for Edmonton. The only problem… I was too late.
I was frantic at this point. Downtown looked like what I imagined hell to look like as described by Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Damned. Downtown looked like it was night time. The smoke and clouds were so overwhelming that it shrouded out the sunlight, but even worse was the dark, evil, grim looking redness that lurked in the heap of smoke. It was hellish and unforgettable. I was headed home safely, but urgently to grab some bags, some medication and for an unexpected road trip to Edmonton until whatever was happening…happened. I arrive home and my phone began ringing like crazy. My mother calls me to inform me the town is being evacuated…a wildfire is raging, and it’s headed to storm over this town. I informed her about what has happened throughout my day, but she insisted with haste I pack some things and head North towards the various lodges they have for the oil refineries. We couldn’t head south because they had the highway blocked off. The fire was a threat as it blazed over the intersections, so they were routing everyone to the lodges northbound. They were taking people in to provide food and shelter. This was the plan and yet I was so unprepared. I was so confused.
I remember grabbing my black luggage bag…firing clothes rapidly into it while I contemplated taking more expensive things. It’s so absurd how the mind works when you are in these dire circumstances. I contemplated taking my gaming desktop computer. I’m like what would I do without it, before I quickly realized how idiotic that would be. I’m in the midst of a wildfire and naturally I’d go for the gaming PC because that will help me turn a new leaf if my residence was to burn down…how selfish and idiotic of me. I was content with what I had in my bag. It was clothes, some medication and two 500ml bottles of water. 1 litre of water with half a tank of gas in my blue 2015 Toyota Corolla. If I got stranded I’m glad, I have an abundance of socks instead of an abundance of water which is essential to survival. I can’t help but laugh at such foolishness now that I sit comfortable behind my computer desk in my chair.
I remember that long drive to the camp. It took me over an hour to move like 30 feet. The entire town was gridlocked. I remember being alone in that long idle period of moving inch by inch in my car in hopes to finally get to a destination and where that was I don’t even care just somewhere other than where I was. Some panicked drivers were furiously driving through ditches to pass the traffic in their large, lifted trucks with monster truck like tires. I don’t blame them during this time. I would have done the same if I had a truck instead of the blue bomber I call my Corolla. I however was abiding along with the rest of traffic waiting patiently to make leeway towards the lodges. I was listening to Claude Debussy’s Clair de Lune. I had tears in my eyes because I was alone. My mother was with her sister and fiancé at the time and were already onward to a lodge as well. My best friend was at work. My girlfriend and her family were headed to Edmonton. I felt as scared at this moment. I truly did and there is no denying it, but the music help soothe my worry. I forgot about my gas levels…slowly dipping less than half a tank. Whatever the music was doing, it was about to be crushed because a fear of having no gas and hardly moving in the gridlock was becoming very real. I wondered if I’d even make it to a lodge.
Another 40 minutes pass. It is about 4:30 PM and I’m so close to getting to a stretch of highway that traffic is beginning to move at a better pace. I received another phone call from my mother asking how close I was to camp and which lodge I was going to. I informed her I was nearing Noralta Lodge which is very close to Suncor oil sands. I hung up the phone and told her I’d call her back as soon as I got confirmation and stationed in a lodge. I drove on the dirt road for what seemed like an eternity given the nature of things, but finally arrived. There was a lineup of vehicles looking to do exactly what I was doing. I gradually approach the security worker and roll down my window. She informs me that this camp is likely filled up and to head further down the road to Black Sands Lodge. I began to worry that I would be driving to another lodge with no guarantee of a bed or floor to sleep on while wasting what little gas I had. I contemplated just parking my car anywhere and preparing to sleep because if I ever had a chance to drive out of this thing then I wouldn’t be able to do so if I’m aimlessly wasting gas to find a bed which would ironically leave me stuck. I made it to Black Sands. To my relief there was no lineup of cars and they had a parking spot for the blue bomber. I was early to this location by the looks of it. I approach the main entrance and the staff were very helpful. They were handing out sheets of paper to register for rooms to speed up the process to get everyone in and accounted for. I remember seeing the large amount of people with the same stark look on their face. It was confusion and for most I’d assume they have never experience something like this before. It is crazy to conjure because we see it all the time on the news. The tsunamis, the death, the destruction of nature and life. We feel like damn, what a shame, those poor buggers, but we proceed to pat ourselves on the back thinking hey this won’t happen to me, but here I am sharing a story of how that exactly came to be.
It was around 7:30PM and I am finally in a room. I put down my bags and immediately grabbed a shower. I needed something to refresh my mind. A shower always brings clarity or direction to me when I need it. I remember the water beating on my face thinking how ironic how this is making me feel slightly at ease, but it is the very thing we need right now to ease this fire. The irony was stark. I received a phone call from my mother and she informed me that she was here, so I proceeded to meet her at the main hall to hug her and show her to our room. We were both hungry at this point, because we had not eaten, and I certainly didn’t want food at this point, but she insisted that we should eat. We need to be nourished if anything was to happen. We grabbed some plates and had some potatoes and chicken. The food was very good and much needed given the level of stress we were enduring. Normal things like food and sleep are not needed when you’re in the midst of a mental crisis. You think of escape and peace of mind then you can eat. That was how my mind worked during this time. We finished eating and headed back to our room to try and find out new information on the news.
I was reading Don DeLillo’s new novel Zero K. The novel was waiting for me at my doorstep from Amazon when I had returned from the hospital. My mother was lying next to me sleeping. I could not sleep. I have been perusing the news and social media for tips or advice, but it was all the same. The fire continues to blaze on, the highway is closed and to stay put. I began to feel crippling isolation. I thought to myself I can’t stay here. I’m in the middle of the boreal forest. I’m surrounded by trees and I’ll be stuck here. If the worst-case scenario was to occur, then I am in the worst place possible. All I could think of is if we were somehow stuck in Canada’s largest wildfire. It is in my nature to think this way. I feel as if I think of the worst possible scenario then at least I’ll be mentally prepared, instead of being surprised and forcing to react; another Virgo trait perhaps. I remember scouring Facebook for tips, or highway openings, but nothing was coming to light. My plan was to make a break for it once the highway opens and head to Edmonton, but gas was limited. I was trying to communicate with the many people who were helping fleeing victims of the wildfire by providing gas along highway 63. It was tough to conjure because I was trying to estimate how far I could make it by comparing my estimated travel distance calculated by my car which was 138 KM; to the distance to meet the people to gas up. My mother had opened her eyes and suggested that I try to sleep. We would need rest for whatever was being thrown at us tomorrow.
7:00AM May 4th, 2016 and I have not slept since May 2nd. My body felt tired, but I was wide awake out of fear and worry. I spoke to my girlfriend and she was insisting that the highway was open and that I should flee now. Now is the time to make a move and we should not wait. The weather conditions were not favorable for the wildfire. More high temperatures and high winds to create a dire day 2. I awoke my mother immediately to tell her come on let’s go. We are making a run for it. She awoke with confusion as one might when being yelled at. She would agree reluctantly but I believe it was out of the sheer fact she was sleeping and hastily woken up. Once she had some coffee she would be more on par with me and our escape. We went to her sister’s room and informed that we would be leaving. They had suggested to wait a few moments before we take off. I was not pleased, but I understood. The issue of gas was still at hand and our scenario didn’t get any better. Both me and my aunt’s vehicle were in the same gas state, so we had decided to attempt to syphon gas into one vehicle and make the trip. This was a terrible idea. My car is practically brand new, so it has a mechanism that prevents the syphoning of gas. I thankfully did not attempt to syphon gas because my lungs were already destroyed from the smoke and my aunt insisted her fiancé do it. The attempt was unsuccessful, so we sat for a moment contemplating our next move. Approximately 9:30AM we said fuck it. Let’s make a run for it.
We are on the way and for the first time in awhile I am hopeful of this. I am hopeful that the information we received was true and that we would be able to make it to freedom of this hellish nightmare. This would be my most memorable drive of my life. The roads were empty and incredibly hazy. The visibility was minimal and paired with the lack of traffic made it for a haunting drive. I remember approaching the town and under the bridge where just yesterday I was idled for an hour. It was incredible to fathom. There were police cars parked at the main turnoffs heading to Timberlea and Thickwood to prevent people to return to their homes. They wanted everyone headed south when the highway was open or to stay north in the lodges until further notice. The cop stood there with a gas masked donned. You could not see his face…this was quite alarming to me. It was a tap on the shoulder reminding me that all of this was not nightmare; this was reality. A reality that by driving that I soon would find peace of mind and safety from the blazing fires that treaded throughout the town of Fort McMurray.
The whole town reminded me of an early episode of The Walking Dead. There were cars left parked on the side of the road likely abandoned due to the lack of gasoline. The city was quiet, and practically nobody to be seen. The smoke was still shrouding over the entire town. We continued driving on the highway. I was following behind my aunt and wondering how much further we would make it before we both ran out of fuel. The smoke continued to riddle the sky, but suddenly like a flick of a switch we drove into a clear sky, sun shining, and 0 smoke. It was a night and day difference. At one moment we are in near 0 visibility driving. The smoke continued to wreak havoc on my breathing and lungs, but then suddenly it changed. The sky was bright blue, with the sun shining and visibility was back to normal. I could breathe normal air and open my windows. The entire experience was liberating. I have goosebumps on my neck as I write this. I started shouting profanities and screaming for joy. Tears were running down my cheeks because I felt like I had accomplished something. I had made it out alive of this nightmare. This was not the end of our troubles though. We may have made it out safely, but the lives of others alongside property was still to face the furious flames of “The beast” (The name given to this wildfire).
After the shift in the environment we began to the last issue on our minds which was the lack of gas. I had passed my aunt because they had stopped to use the washroom quickly. I drove ahead and noticed a large truck with a fuel tank on the back. I had 34KM until I ran out of gasoline or at least that’s what a computer was estimating. I pull over. I was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a tank top because of the heat. I remember approaching the somewhat young-looking man nervously. He asked me without hesitation: “Do you need some gas bud? I don’t have much left for this tank, but I can get some into your vehicle to help you get to a gas station 200KM ahead.” Tears again began to fall down my cheek. I said thank you graciously. I was so overwhelmed how some stranger would be here helping everyone. It truly was astonishing, and I’ll never forget that person. I wish I had got his name, but I was so overwhelmed by the gesture that I was at a loss for words, I only had tears to express my raw emotion and thanks. My car is very fuel efficient. He pumped the gas which felt like for a mere 10 seconds, but when I had started my car and parted ways I was relieving to see that my tank that was nearly empty is now almost full. My mother was already informing her sister to come here quickly so they could also receive some gas. They made it here and what was left was the last of that tank and the young man had taken off to fill the tank back up to return to help others in need.
In the end this was one hell of a journey that I had never imagined enduring. It is as I said like a horror movie and reading the news. You see the circumstance and you think that you would act differently, and you wouldn’t imagine this ever happening to you, but you truly never know. I now watch horror movies with a sense of sympathy for the characters because when you see something so crazy that it doesn’t seem real…you sit and pause in awe to gaze at it. Your startled mind is a sponge to the wonder that is nature whether good or evil and all you can do is merely take it all in for a moment before running for your life. I now have a deeper sympathy for those in natural disaster. To this day I still see most vehicles with bumper stickers that say Fort Mac Strong, or I survived the Beast. It is a nice reminder that no matter what strife people may face, they will always find a way to come together and rebuild. So long as there is life we will encounter numerous challenges and defeats, but no matter the cost we always move forward into a stronger, brighter future.
This image was the immediate photograph that was taken as I stepped outside from the CBI Health Clinic.
This was the view from my car as I was idled on Confederation way as it was gridlocked. I was listening to Clair De Lune with tears down my eyes as I was alone and unaware of where I was headed to next. You can see faintly the amount of traffic behind me and the darkness from the smoke.
This was the right hand view where we were not allowed to travel. The fire was blazing through Beacon Hill and raging across the highway to the only exit out of town. The cops had prohibited travel because you would risk burning alive as the fire was blazing across the entire intersections.
Statistics about the Wildfire:
589,552 hectares burned
(1,456,810 acres)
2,400 buildings destroyed
665 work camp units
2 fatalities (indirect)
80, 000 people evacuated
9.9 billion dollars in cost.