In the early morning of Thursday, my phone rang. It was my publisher calling to inform me of a flood in Blairmore. Groggy and half asleep, I threw on a coat, grabbed my camera and was out the door. Upon arriving on scene of the flood, I suddenly became wide-awake. 18th-20th Avenue, Blairmore was flooded with water, with parts of streets, sidewalks and lawns fully submerged. The water had spread onto the green space beside the railroad tracks in Blairmore, and had created a small lake. Walking down the street caused my pants to get soaked, nearly up to the knee. Nearby, a man came out of his house in rain boots and a houseboat, morning coffee still in his hand. I could tell from his facial expression that he was just as stunned as myself, and the handful of other onlookers.
As I frantically snapped photos, I wondered if anyone had seen the flood coming. Ironically enough, several weeks ago the Pass Herald did a survey as part of our “Question of the Week” asking people if they thought the Pass would flood this summer. Not a single person of the four asked said yes.
Thursday was a blur for me. After literally running around Blairmore taking photos, my morning and afternoon was slit between press conferences and panicked phone calls from residents.
My editor and I drove to Lundbreck to see what the flood had done to Lundbreck Falls. I stood in disbelief as I saw the gallons of water tumble over the rocks. We also drove to areas in Hillcrest and Frank, filling my camera’s file card with unbelievable sights that we saw. Although this was not yet confirmed, I knew that the worst was over. And that thought was settling enough to put me right to sleep.
Little did I know that just a couple hundred kilometres north, Calgary, the city where I came from was just starting its flood nightmares.
I was awoken in the early morning of Friday by a phone call. This time, it was my sister. “Turn on the news!” she said
A flooded Calgary was what I saw. I figured it would be, as the Bow and Elbow River often cause small floods in the spring after a large amount of rainfall.
However, it wasn’t until I logged onto Facebook and other social media sites that I got the full raft of what was happening.
Friends, family, radio stations, newspapers and TV networks were frantically updating their status with photos, video clips and prayers, all regarding the flood. I saw a photo of China Town, a place where I had spent many hours when I lived in the Calgary with about four feet of water flowing down the streets.
I saw a video clip of the Stampede grounds, completely sunken in water.
I saw a still image of downtown, the place that is always bursting with people, completely deserted. I was in disbelief, overwhelmed by what I was looking at.
As upsetting as it was to see the town that raised me in such distress, what was even more upsetting was hearing that a good friend had been a direct victim of the High River flood, losing his car, apartment and most of his possessions. Another friend lost her cat floodwaters.
Friday was a bad day for many.
As the weekend continued, the flood stories and photos on the social media continued to get posted, however, as time passed, they started to become more and more positive.
Death toll remained low, rescued victims remained high, evacuation orders were lifted and the generosity of strangers in Calgary shocked the world.
A number, a large number of people, groups and organizations have already planned and held fundraisers and campaigns to raise money for the people affected by the flood.
To be honest, the generosity of random strangers has baffled me, and has never made me more proud to be from the City of Calgary.
