Tales after the ice storm cometh

Though Peterborough remained untouched by Canada's worst natural disaster, Trent faculty, staff and students with homes in Montreal, Kingston and Ottawa did not.

Pizza by candlelight in Montreal
In 10 years, said politic studies professor Robert Campbell last week from his flat in Montreal where he and Canadian studies professor Christl Verduyn are on leave with their four children, he will remember one adventure in particular. Without power for three days during the first wave of blackouts in the city, the family loaded knapsacks with food and began a two-mile hike to Campbell's parents' apartment, which had electricity. Five minutes before they arrived, exhausted, the power had gone out and the promise of a hot meal evaporated. They turned away and started to walk to Campbell's brother's house, which was supplied by gas. If he weren't home, they could hop on the Metro and go back to their apartment. "The streets were completely dark, completely black and it was not looking promising." As they approached the Metro station, they could see a light down the road and headed towards it. In a little pizza joint, a chef was "making pizza by candlelight" in wood-fired ovens.

        The family had no telephone, television or transportation. The novelty of the storm quickly wore off. "After a certain number of card games and jigsaw puzzles, you're at your wit's end." Immobilized -- their car was encased in ice and the roads were impassable -- they carted in snow to melt to flush the toilet and spent each day "organizing how we would get through the day," said Campbell.

Prepared in Kingston
When Trent's student counselling co-ordinator Dawn Knapton drove home to Kingston two weekends ago, she bought some wood at a gas station near Napanee. After all, no one knew how long the power would be out and her daughter and baby grandchild from Montreal were camped out with Knapton's husband and son for the duration of the storm. She would be prepared.

        But as she approached Kingston along Highway 401, the devastation surprised her and filled her with a deep sadness.

        That first weekend, neighbors -- wearing bicycle helmets to protect their heads from falling ice -- rallied to cut and pile the fallen limbs. By Sunday, the street and all the yards were tidy.

        "I found the weekend very slow," said Knapton. She and her family stayed warm around a woodstove and cooked on the barbecue parked on the back deck. Her husband and son, both members of a group that re-enacts 18th-century pioneer experiences, unpacked their supplies -- 50 slow burning candles that lasted 12 hours each.

        Interim president David Smith happened to be at his Kingston home when the ice storm hit. He kept in touch with Trent by phone. He and his wife were confined to a single dark room where a gas fireplace provided warmth and means to heat water. They ventured out hesitantly by car on the second day. "I thought it was safer to drive. Better to have a dent in the car than in the head." About five days after they lost their power, a neighbor with electricity ran an extension cord into the Smiths's basement to start their furnace. "What stands out is our vulnerability to forces of nature despite the technological advances, and the value of having some emergency procedures."

Akwesasne mission
The first Saturday after the advent of the storm, Trent native studies professor Dan Longboat called up Mohawk Council of Akwesasne grand chief Mike Mitchell. He hadn't heard anything on the radio about the native community south of Cornwall caught in the devastation. Mitchell assured him the reserve of 9,000 was OK but "things were kind of tough." Longboat hung up and started rallying help.

        He raised about $200 from Trent's Native Studies Department employees, with help from academic program assistant Chris Welter, matched it with a personal donation and persuaded Farmboy Markets Ltd. to sell him food and baby supplies at a discount. Buns Master Bakery donated six huge bags of bread, three Curve Lake stores donated food and money and chief Gary Williams collected food, kerosene heaters and clothing. By Tuesday afternoon, Longboat was on the road to Tyendinaga near Belleville to pick up donations that filled a cube van.

        On Highway 401 past Kingston, he and a friend saw trees snapped in half "like twigs" and skinned "like banana peels." When they crossed the St. Lawrence River into Akwesasne about 7 p.m., it was pitch black but everything was under control. Many elders, like Trent honorary degree recipient Ernie Benedict, could provide shelter to their extended families because they had wood stoves and stores of food. Longboat was impressed with the sharing, generosity and caring the First Nations communities showed one another -- and non-natives -- during this emergency. Benedict gave wood to some Cornwall residents who came and asked for it. "You can't get better than that."