This is part 6 of Pastor Les's series recounting his and Ardith's evacuation from Fort McMurray. You may read the previous posts by following these links: Part 1 (Escaping the Inferno!), Part 2 (Metis/First Nations Hospitality), Part 3 (Oil Sands Camp), Part 4 (Angel Paul and the jerry can), Part 5 (Leaving the Oil Camp).
Fort McMurray, Alberta Wildfires. With a helicopter scouting the way ahead, from the vantage point of the smoky skies, and with a police escort on Highway 63, our convoy of fifty vehicles began moving south. South through the fire ravaged city. All off-ramps were sealed off with police vehicles flashing their lights. We were travelling at a good clip. It seemed that the sooner through the city the better when the way was clear. We were struck by whole swats of trees that were burnt on both sides of the highway. Green spaces were now blackened. There were still hot spots with some small fires burning where the major fire had gone through. As we crossed the bridge over the mile-wide Athabasca River, to our right, massive fire clouds were rolling high into the darkened skies. The “beast” had leapt across the river and was devouring the forest on the south side. It was evident that the fire-fighters and helicopters and airplane water and fire retardant bombers fought hard. In places the ground was burnt to a crisp up to within a few feet of buildings. Amazing that the downtown was not wiped out. Passing the turn off to the Abasand subdivision we knew it to be true that nearly all of this community was burned to the ground. Ascending up out of the city passing Beacon Hill the destruction was even more evident. This subdivision was almost completely gone. Eerie!
Our police escort pulled off to the side and as a convoy we were now on our own heading south on Highway 63 toward Edmonton. A relief to be through. Nearly 90,000 people had escaped on that frightening Tuesday, May 3rd, with not one loss of life.
Service station gone, hotel now only cinders, a whole mobile home park obliterated. To our left, the fire had raced down the valley and consumed the historic community of Waterways. From there the fire had jumped across the Clearwater River climbing into the forest on the far side. We were now beginning to leave the city, passing the airport exit along the way. A sustained and valiant battle had kept the new airport from burning. While it had been smoky all through the city, we now drove through heavy smoke because fires were burning in the woods on both sides of the highway. All along the route there were vehicles that had driven off the road into the ditches or had been abandoned or simply had run out of fuel. Testament to the desperate escape a few days prior. Soon we arrived at highway 881 leading to Anzac and on to Lac La Biche. This intersection had become an operations base with first responders, fire-fighting equipment and television crews. Our police escort pulled off to the side and as a convoy we were now on our own heading south on Highway 63 toward Edmonton. A relief to be through. Nearly 90,000 people had escaped on that frightening Tuesday, May 3rd, with not one loss of life. People are precious. Ninety thousand souls. I am reminded of the words of Scripture, written by Peter (yes the same Peter who took his eyes off the Lord Jesus and began to panic amidst the high waves of the storm on the Sea of Galilee). “God does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to repent.” 2 Peter 3:9. Could this be a wake-up call to turn back to God? Many times when He lived among us, Jesus said, “Come to Me.” He is still saying “Come”.