The first thing I’ll say… Thank You.
Thank you to all the firefighters who jumped into action to fight the wildfire that started on the afternoon of Sunday, May 28th, 2023. Your incredibly brave efforts are so appreciated!
It’s hard to believe 3 years have passed.
I was a fortunate resident of the affected area that had to evacuate that day. I say fortunate because I was able to return to my home. I know many people in the community lost everything and have had to rebuild in the years since. I’m eternally grateful to all the first responders who responded to the call.
Before Evacuation
It was a beautiful, warm spring day in the White Hills/Maplewood community in Hammonds Plains, just a short drive up the road from Tantallon.
I had been putting off the first mow of the season, so I had just come in from cutting the grass. We had a busy night planned, including celebrating a birthday at our house, but first I was going to hop into the shower. Of course, I got delayed with some light doom scrolling, checking Facebook, constantly refreshing Twitter (yes, it was still called that at the time), and I saw nothing to worry about. It was your average, everyday useless information that I’m used to seeing on social media.
I hopped into the shower. Ten minutes passed. I got out, grabbed my phone…
And everything had changed.
My Facebook feed was full of people asking if anyone else saw smoke nearby. The local community group I was in started posting pictures. Speculation was beginning to run rampant. The first evacuation rumours were circulating in the Tantallon area where the smoke appeared to be coming from.
At the time, I went to speak with my wife about it, but we didn’t think too much of it. We couldn’t see smoke from our house, we had plans that night, and we had the mindset that this never happens here. Sure, we see it on the news… it happens elsewhere… but it never happens in our backyard, to us!
It was only minutes later that we saw the smoke start to billow in the distance.
At that point, we decided it wouldn’t hurt to pack a go-bag, just in case.
Our daughter was three years old, and she was at the stage where she asked questions about everything. So she was very curious as to why we were packing a bag “just in case.” As parents, we didn’t want to scare her by talking about a fire nearby, so we played it off and told her we were packing for an upcoming summer vacation.
But once our “summer vacation” bags were packed, the smoke had doubled in size.
My parents lived nearby, further back in the subdivision, roughly a seven-minute drive away. We were near the beginning of subdivison, so if we needed to get out fast, we could usually reach Hammonds Plains Road in about three minutes. I decided to give them a call to make sure they were aware of the situation and encourage them to pack a bag, just in case.
From where my parents lived, they saw no smoke, and up until that point, they hadn’t even seen any of the commotion online. Everything I’ve described so far took place in less than an hour, so things were changing quickly, and they were simply enjoying what had otherwise been a beautiful spring afternoon.
Evacuation Notices
After getting off the phone with them, we received our first EMERGENCY ALERT for evacuations. It wasn’t our area, but it was close.
After a few minutes of “should we or shouldn’t we” conversations, both of us feeling nervous and scared, and aware that our daughter was starting to catch on that something was happening, my wife and I made the call to leave the house pre-emptively. We had more family close by, so we decided to head there.
By the time I loaded our “summer vacation” bags into the car, we received the next EMERGENCY ALERT.
This time, it was for our community.
My stomach dropped.
I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know how bad the fire was. I didn’t know if I would be returning to this home. I didn’t know if we had packed enough. I didn’t know if we had packed our daughter’s favourite toy. I didn’t know anything.
What I did know was how to answer the phone, which I did as it started ringing after the second emergency alert.
It was my parents. They had obviously caught on to how serious things were. They were starting to get ready to evacuate… but their car was in the shop.
We were three minutes from Hammonds Plains Road. My parents were seven minutes further back into the subdivision. Traffic had already started forming outside on our street.
At that moment, with the skies becoming greyer by the minute, we made a decision that was very unsettling to us – We were going to split up.
I would head back to pick up my parents, and my wife and our now-worried little three-year-old would exit the subdivision on their own.
With traffic building, my wife decided to exit through Glen Arbour, thinking there would be less congestion there.
I headed deeper into the subdivision to pick up my parents, passing car after car heading toward the exit… only to see the skies clear up and the smoke fade away the further back I ventured.
It was one of the oddest things I’ve ever experienced.
From our house, there was a very obvious a fire burning nearby. But by the time I reached my parents’ house, it looked like a beautiful spring day again!
Getting Out of Hammonds Plains
It was a very quick stop to fill up the car with their bags and have my parents hop in. I was eager to get moving, knowing my wife and daughter were in another car. We headed down a road that’d take us along side streets before to exiting onto Hammonds Plains Road via Glen Arbour Way.
As we drove toward our exit route, the grey skies started to return, and quickly. What started as a light grey haze, barely noticeable, became darker and ashier with each passing moment.
The route we chose seemed like a smart call, as we had driven for a few minutes without any congestion.
That was until we got near the end of Sandy Run, a side street that would turn us onto Thompson Run, which would then take us to Glen Arbour Way. At the end of Glen Arbour Way, we’d be able to turn onto Hammonds Plains Road, the only road we could use to escape the evacuation zone.
We were brought to a dead halt at the end of Sandy Run.
We still had roughly four kilometres to go.
Feeling like a sitting duck, I called my wife to see where she was.
She was stuck too.
I remember hearing my daughter in the background singing Baby Shark, and my wife being strong and keeping her cool, but I had trouble keeping mine.
I stayed quiet.
Focused on the road.
My parents knew I was worried. They tried to lighten the mood, but all I wanted to do was focus on moving forward that quarter-inch every few seconds.
By that point, one end of Hammonds Plains Road had been closed off because of the fire, so all the traffic was clustering together, trying to turn onto the same road and head in the same direction.
I don’t remember how long we were stuck waiting to escape. It may have only been 30 minutes, but it felt like hours.
While waiting, I remember police running on foot to knock on doors. I saw other families hurriedly packing their cars and trying to pull out of their driveways. I saw the same fear in their eyes that I was feeling.
Out of the Subdivision
Once we turned onto Hammonds Plains Road, I felt such a sense of relief. I was finally ready to join in the light joking my parents had been doing in the car.
My wife and daughter had gotten out about ten minutes before we did, so that also gave me a sense of peace.
We were heading towards Bedford, and the skies started clearing with each passing kilometre.
Many people who lived along Hammonds Plains Road, outside of the evacuation area, were on their decks watching the commotion. They didn’t know it yet, but soon they were going to have to join us in leaving the area.
3 Years Later
The first couple of days after evacuating were tough, especially hearing about all the homes lost and the uncertainty around when the fire would be brought under control.
I was tuned in every time there was an update and glued to social media, trying to stay up to the minute with posts from our local Facebook group.
We ended up returning home on June 5th, just a little over a week after we evacuated.
While my experience was scary for me, I know many people had a much more harrowing experience. As I mentioned earlier, we were fortunate.
Many weren’t.
I can’t imagine what people who lost their homes were feeling, what they had to deal with, and what they’re still dealing with three years later.
To all the firefighters and first responders, thank you for your quick action, your continued efforts, and everything you did for our community.
