Over the past few days, the flood disaster
in southern Alberta has been absolute. Heavy rain, melting snow and swollen
rivers have wrought havoc on the southern part of the province. It will take
days, weeks, months and even years to come to terms with the loss of property
and in a few tragic cases, the loss of life. Those of us who live elsewhere
have followed this news with a sense of shock and disbelief.
As I write this, the disastrous aftermath
of the flood is still unfolding. The area where Lyle and I live has not been
affected and so the following is just a small snippet on the edge of events
that are continuing to shape the calamity with which many others are dealing.
Not quite one week ago Lyle and I decided
to take our motor home out for its first summer camping trip. Our destination
was William Watson Lodge in Kananaskis. The lodge is situated in a beautiful mountain
valley area and we were delighted when we were able to secure the last campsite
of the 14 that were available. William
Watson Lodge was designed to be accessible for people with special needs.
Cabins and campsites are all wheelchair accessible and the numerous walking
trails are all paved. When we pulled in on Wednesday night, it had just begun
to sprinkle. Within an hour, the rain had reached a steady downpour. When we
woke the next morning it was to learn that the road in and out of the valley
had been closed and that the phone lines were down. There was no cell phone
coverage and no Internet access. Essentially, we were cut off from the world
outside.
During the day, we had fragmentary news on
the radio. We learned about the evacuation of the town of High River and of
several neighbourhoods in Calgary and surrounding communities. Some of our
fellow travellers in William Watson began to worry about their own supplies,
especially of medications and food. How long would we be stranded? How could we
get messages to friends and family? What was the extent of the road closures?
Throughout Thursday the rain continued,
heavy, loud and relentless. Water was everywhere. It began to run in deep streams
down the paved trails. It was still coming down on Thursday night when we went
to bed and I was relieved on Friday morning when I woke to silence again. At
least, I was relieved until Lyle told me to look out the window. Instead of the
pounding rain, there were now huge feathery snowflakes falling, and falling
with increasing regularity.
It was during the day on Friday that we
began to hear the chatter of helicopters overhead. One landed in the parking lot of the lodge to
deliver medications for a group of individuals with special needs who were
staying in the cabins. In the closer parking lot, tents were set up on the
asphalt and campers from other campgrounds began to gather in our central
location. We were asked to refrain from using the showers and water
restrictions were imposed. We noticed that two of the cabins had long hoses
extending from the basement to drain overflowing water. A second helicopter
came to deliver emergency supplies of groceries.
On Saturday, a general meeting was called and
we learned of the possibility of evacuation. Priority lists were made and Lyle
and I returned to our motor home to pack a small overnight bag. We locked the
door to our motor home and returned to the lodge to await our turn to leave. Those
who needed to use wheelchairs, stretchers and those with pressing medical needs
were the first to be evacuated. Of course, practical issues had to be addressed
when transporting wheelchairs and stretchers to the landing pad and then on
board the helicopter itself.
When our turn came we were transported on
the handivan to the parking lot where a military Griffon helicopter was waiting
for us. The army personnel were great. You could tell that their experience and
training in dealing with this sort of thing was paying off. Lyle and I were
just two of the eight passengers on our fifteen minute flight across the
flooded expanses of the Kananaskis valley. When we landed at the Stoney Nakoda Casino at the intersection of the Trans Canada Highway and Highway 40 at the
head of the valley, another group of army men and women were there to escort us
to a large tent. I might add that at this point, someone took my picture as I
was being helped to the ground. I was using my white cane and this picture has
been on two of our television news channels. I haven’t seen this myself, but
several friends have phoned to say that they recognized me in the clip.
Today is Sunday and the sun is shining.
Lyle and I are home and it is almost surreal to think of the past few days. Our
daughter and son-in-law picked us up from the army tent where we had been
deposited and drove us to their home in Calgary. They were already hosting a
friend from the Calgary area who had been evacuated from his home, so we
borrowed their second vehicle to drive to our own home and our own bed. Our
motor home remains in Kananaskis. We aren’t sure when we will be able to pick
it up but in light of others who have lost everything, we count ourselves very
fortunate to have it at all.
Below are several pictures.
Lyle took the first picture of me prior to
boarding the helicopter in the parking lot near William Watson Lodge. The helicopter is an army Griffon capable of
holding eight passengers and two pilots.
 |
| Sue in front of Griffon helicopter |
The second shows me being escorted from the
helicopter after our flight.
 |
| Getting off the helicopter |
The final picture shows me with two of the
young men from the military who were assisting in the rescue operation.
 |
| Sue with Canadian Forces personnel |
From left to right: Chris, Sue and Ben.
Thanks for sharing what you experienced. :)
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