Being an Evacuee
I was working at ConocoPhillips when I took a picture of the wildfire starting far off in the distance. The next day, McMurray was ablaze and we began to transport scared people into camp via yellow busloads, those lucky enough to have a vehicle were given fuel. At 1:00 am, the following day, the fire had passed Anzac, and we had to gather up all the scared people and their children with garbage bags full of their belongings, which were their lives at the time. We loaded them onto yellow buses headed for Edmonton. It was at that moment I saw the inequality of Fort Mac. Who was riding the Diversified Coaches and who was riding the school buses. Luckily, I had a sister who was taking in people and animals, and I watched the expression of joy on the face of a Fort Mac survivor when he heard that his horses were safe. Having many friends in Fort Mac and hearing their stories I often wonder if any suffer from PTSD.
Yes, been there, done that, still going on - displaced Lyttonite. PTSD, I imagine we all have it to some degree. Certainly our behaviours could be an indication since the fire. Forty years owning the same house, my wife and I designed and built it to suit our needs, filled it with all our treasures and toys, and one day we got to watch it, along with the homes of all our long time neighbours and friends, explode in flames. Starting over at seventy. I like challenges, but this isn't one I would have picked.