|
|
INDEPTH: POWER OUTAGE
Blackout baby
August 2003
The following is a letter from Chris and Sandy Gurd of Whitby, Ont., to CBC News Online. It's one family's story about the kindness of strangers during the blackout of 2003.
For those of you interested in unique and exciting stories from the blackout, I believe ours would qualify. Let me begin by saying that my wife was pregnant, her due date was August 23. When the power in Toronto went out at around 4:10 p.m. on Thursday, August 14, my first thought was that my gas tank was only a quarter full and I might have some difficulty making it home if I hit any traffic on the way from Downsview to Whitby. Thank goodness I knew some back streets and was able to weave my way through without a hitch and made it home with the gas tank slightly above empty.
My wife and I went to bed sometime shortly after 11 on Thursday, after listening to a talk radio station to get updates on the blackout situation. I made the decision that I would stay home and relax on Friday knowing very soon that our world would be turned upside down. Boy, and I mean literally 'BOY,' was I wrong.
The first thing I remember in a long, blurry and surreal chain of events is my wife waking me up at around 4 a.m. Friday morning to those soothing words that every nervous father-to-be would love to hear during a blackout: "Honey, I think I'm going into labour."
The first thing that popped into my head was not 'oh, how exciting, our special day has finally arrived,' but 'do we have enough gas to get to our hospital (Women's College) probably some 65 kilometres away?'
As a starting point, I thought we should at least confirm her suspicions, not to say I didn't trust her judgment. But we are both first-timers and have no experience in these matters. And furthermore, she had just gone to see her doctor the previous day and was told she wasn't that far along yet and would most likely go beyond her due date. Famous last words, I guess.
Of course, the phone lines were dead in the house but, luckily, we were able to use the cellphone by going out to the street in front of the house.
Aside from camping up at Algonquin Park, this was as close to complete darkness as one could get. We finally got through to the medical hotline and got CONFIRMATION. I think we were both secretly hoping to be told it was a false alarm and to go back to bed.
After a couple hours of keeping track of my wife's contractions, at around 8:30 in the morning we decided that it was time to head off to the hospital. I, in my infinite wisdom, concluded that we should have enough gas to get there. How we would get home could be dealt with later.
We started out from Whitby and I tried to keep the speed on Highway 401 to approximately 100 kilometres an hour to try to conserve gas. Keep in mind how difficult this was, given that my wife's labour seemed to be progressing quite rapidly. Much to our chagrin, the empty tank light came on as we crossed into Scarborough. As we had just bought the new family vehicle two weeks before, I could still recall the salesperson mentioning that we should be able to get another 35 to 40 kilometres once the light comes on. At this point I was forced into making some quick calculations about whether Women's College was within this range. My conclusion was that it was probably some 45 kilometres away. A decision had to be made. Do we believe the salesperson or, like the Seinfeld episode, go for it and see how far this baby would take us?
We were tuned to one of the few radio stations that were able to broadcast. They mentioned there were some pockets of electricity in Scarborough with gas stations operational. Without knowing exactly where the pockets would be located, we chose to stop for gas and took the exit at Victoria Park.
We decided to go north. What a mistake! Both of us quickly came to the realization that the traffic lights were out. What followed was a slow and painful wait at a four-way stop. Finally, we got to the front of the line and decided to turn left so that we could turn around and try our luck south of the 401.
We were now at the point of no return. Women's College would now be out of reach since we'd burned too much gas waiting on Victoria Park. While making the left turn, I breathed a temporary sigh of relief, and I stress temporary, as there was a police cruiser parked near the corner with an officer standing near the intersection.
I quickly parked the car at the side of the road and thought to myself the situation is now under control. I ran up to the officer to inform him of our serious situation. I asked him if he knew of any gas stations that were open in the area. His response was that he thought there was a Petro Canada station open south of the 401 on Victoria Park.
I told him we were concerned with our gas situation and my wife's contractions were increasing in severity. We didn't have the luxury of time or the gas to drive around to try to find a station, so I asked if he could use his radio to confirm where the nearest gas station was located. His response was, "we don't keep track of those things."
Disillusioned at his lack of concern for our situation, I mentioned that I would try his suggestion and go south on Victoria Park. However, I did mention my concern for what might await us at the gas station in terms of long lines and potential chaos. His response was, "Good luck and don't worry. If things get bad, just call 911 for an ambulance."
When I look back at those moments with this officer, I'm disappointed with his ambivalence in addressing the situation. I'm not really sure what I expected or what a reasonable response would have been in the situation, but I find it extremely hard to believe that his response was satisfactory.
Maybe I'm way off base here, but what I really wanted from him was to say, "wait right here while I confirm whether the Petro Canada station is open. Also, I'll escort you to the station and make sure you get gas immediately. My presence with you at the gas station will extinguish any potential backlash from unhappy customers who have been waiting an extremely long time. Chaos may be waiting for you there, but my presence will keep the peace. Furthermore, I will provide you with an escort the rest of the way to Women's College as it may be difficult to get there given the unknown traffic situation." But to be fair to the officer, we didn't know his situation. Maybe he had strict orders to attend to other urgent matters, or maybe he was just having a bad day.
Our stress level continued to rise as we made our way south on Victoria Park as we didn't know what would be in store for us at the gas station, or even if it was open. The status of the station was confirmed rather quickly as we passed south of the 401.
The two southbound lanes were cut down to one due to gridlock in the right lane. Cars seemed to be moving only inches every minute. My guess was that there must be a gas station at the end of this line. My suspicions were confirmed. Now my next thought was how on earth would I be able to cut to the front of the line without causing pandemonium.
As we drove closer to the front of the line, it became evident that many vehicles were trying to enter the station from both the north and the south. Also, as happens in all lines, there were those people who were trying to sneak in. Tempers were starting to boil over. I had no choice but to do the same and hope that people would understand.
Of course, as I inched my way over near the front of the line, people started honking like crazy. I couldn't blame them as I would have done the same thing. They didn't know my situation and thought I was trying to butt in line. At this point, traffic was in chaos at the gas station as cars were lined in every direction trying to edge their way to the pumps.
I said to my wife that even if we could get into the station, it might take us a considerable amount of time to even get to the pump. I suggested to her that she get out of the car and go speak to the gas station attendant and explain the situation. I would continue to try to edge my way into the line less than 20 yards from the station.
It took a good couple of minutes to convince the driver beside me to let me cut in front of him. He kept referring to the fact that he had been waiting for over two hours. My reply to him was that if he could just wait an additional five minutes it would mean the world to my wife and me. Finally he agreed.
People can be truly funny in how they react to situations. At this point, Sandy came almost sprinting over to the vehicle, which in her condition gives an indication of the urgency of the situation. She had explained the seriousness of the situation to the attendant and, in return, he'd given her a small gas container to use. Sandy, with the help of another gentlemen, directed me into the station. We were very grateful for his help.
I parked in an open spot in the middle of the station and he directed me to a pump that happened to be free. I filled the small container. The container hose was very short and not able to extend to the gas line so, to not spill the gas, I had to slowly fill the mouth of the tank and wait for it to seep down the line. It took about five minutes. We had to do it all again another couple of times to make sure we would have enough gas to make it to Women's College.
By this time, word was spreading throughout the station about our situation. This is when another good Samaritan stepped in to lend a hand. He said, "Hey buddy, are you the one whose wife is in labour?" I quickly responded "yes." He said, "There's going to be a pump opening up over here. Why don't you pull your car over to it?"
I quickly started to manoeuvre over as other drivers, not knowing the situation, were also trying to vie for the same pump. He quickly put a stop to that by yelling to everyone that they would have to wait as this was an emergency situation. I backed in and he told me to go to the attendant and wait to pay while he filled up the tank. Once it was full, he signalled to me and I went to pay the attendant. He ducked his head to say "good luck" and then ducked it a second time, smiled and said, "Oh yeah, and congratulations, too."
To describe this individual, he was a large, solid man. I think he had on a Harley Davidson shirt, with a tattoo or two on his arms. He had a rough and ready look about him. I'm sure his presence helped to keep surly customers at bay. I don't think there would be too many people who would question his judgment. We owe this gentleman and the attendant a debt of gratitude. Unfortunately, due to the situation, we never really got to thank them properly. We'll never forget their kind actions.
Now with a full tank, we needed to get back out of the traffic gridlock. Lucky for us, there was another customer at the station who alerted us that a meter-parking attendant was within earshot. He and I ran over to explain the situation and the parking attendant quickly offered to direct traffic to get us out quickly.
He did a great job. Again, we were very thankful for the efforts of both these gentlemen. When I look back at the gas station and what might have happened, we will always be grateful to those extraordinary people who gave us a helping hand.
After leaving the gas station, the rest of the drive went relatively smoothly and without incident. We arrived at Women's College around 10:15 in the morning and Sandy was assessed and transitioned to the delivery room. We were taken care of by a wonderful delivery nurse who was with us from start to finish and really helped us through the process. She made Sandy and me feel very comfortable. Funnily enough, she also made the trek into work from Whitby, so I think it was sort of fitting that she was with us.
The happy ending to our story was the birth of our first child, Zachary, at 1:54 p.m. on Friday. Both he and mother are doing great.
I wanted to write this story for three reasons:
1. To share my thoughts on a spectacular day in which my wife and I experienced such a wide range of emotions that may never be duplicated in our lifetime.
2. For Zachary, so that he may know what he put his parents through by choosing to come into the world during the largest blackout in North American history.
3. To give thanks to those extraordinary people that helped us along the way.
We are indeed very fortunate.
Sincerely,
Chris & Sandy & Zachary
Whitby, Ontario
^TOP
|
|
 |
 MENU |
|
|
| MORE: |
|
|
|
|
