The Storm

When the ice storm of 1998 hit Eastern Ontario, DW and I were safely on the other side of the planet, in Chŏnju, South Korea. With this Southeast Asian country in the throws of its own economic storm, we battled something else, entirely.

At least we were safe.

We returned to Canada a few weeks later, after power had been restored to Ottawa and the only evidence of the devastation was seen in the broken stumps of trees, their branches and top halves long cleared away. Our family and friends, who were directly affected by that far-reaching storm, were safe and sound, warm and dry.

But even the intensity of that storm, 24 years in the past, couldn't match the intensity of the derecho that travelled from Windsor to West Québec in a single afternoon. Anyone who experienced the full brunt of the storm—the high winds and funnel clouds, the torrential rain, and the nearly golf-ball-sized hail—will remember where she or he was when it seemingly came out of nowhere.

The storm was five days ago but I can only talk about it now because my neighbourhood was without electricity for nearly four days. Our house had no Internet. We salvaged what we could pack into coolers and take to family that had power, but a lot of food became spoiled.

I will never forget where DW, Kid 2 (and her cat), and I were when the news of the storm came. We were on Highway 401, between Ajax and Pickering, on the outskirts of the Greater Toronto Area, heading toward downtown Toronto. We were moving our daughter to her new apartment.

Not much earlier than that, I had commented that we were heading toward some showers and that I hoped it wouldn't be raining while we were unpacking the U-Haul that we were towing. I didn't want any of Kid 2's possessions to get wet.

But as we left Ajax and entered Pickering, our smartphones sounded the alarm that indicated an impending storm and to seek shelter. Driving on the biggest and busiest highways in Canada, what could we do but keep an eye out? And ahead of us, the sky looked dark and fierce.

I remember seeing a man on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle pass us. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, I predicted that he was going to get a soaking.

Understatement.

By the time we reached Scarborough, a few minutes later, the storm was upon us and there was nowhere to go.

It started as a torrent of water, moving horizontally and dousing our windshield. Even on high power, it was hard to see. But almost immediately following, large hail began pelting our car. The sound was deafening and startled Kid 2 awake (she was napping in the back seat). Lily, her cat, who had also been napping next to her, dove onto the floor and tried to crawl under DW's seat.

I feared that our windshield would shatter at any moment. DW eventually captured some of it on her phone, after the worst was over.

Hazard lights on, speed greatly reduced, I looked for a place to pull over. We were close to an exit for collector lanes so I took it, as did several other cars, many that pulled over onto the shoulder.

Visibility was down to about 10 metres or so and I could see the wind was coming from several directions. I could see the water, which had accumulated on the road, was being blown back up in the air. Our CR-V was rocking from side to side and I could see that the U-Haul trailer was being pushed around.

I seriously feared that the trailer would be tipped over. In a later conversation, when I returned the rental to a U-Haul depot, the agent who helped me remove the trailer asked where I was when the storm hit. When I told him where we were, he asked, "Was the trailer empty?"

"If it had been," I told him, "you and I would be having a much different conversation."

Once in the collector lane, I saw a few vehicles stopped under an overpass and I joined them. But only briefly. There was still a high volume of automobiles moving, and some were driving erratically, that I worried that a large truck might drive into us. Whether that was sound reasoning or not, I decided that it would be better to keep moving than to be a sitting duck. I could see that the hail had stopped but the rain was still coming down steadily.

Out from the underpass, the rain wasn't so bad. I still had the wipers at full speed but I could see much better. We left the collector lane and returned to the express lane.

At the next underpass, we caught up to the motorcyclist, who had taken shelter. He was soaked, as I had predicted, and his bare arms were bright red. He was looking to be in some pain and would, no doubt, have welts and bruises later that day.

The rain came and went in intensity, and we worried that the hail might return, so we decided to get off the 401. DW found an IKEA near the exit and we parked in its garage while we weighed our options. DW and Kid 2 went into the store for a washroom break and to search for another set of bedsheets, while I comforted Lily.

I called Kid 1 and warned her to keep an eye on the weather. She was at home and alone with our other three cats. I also warned my Ottawa Twitter friends of what we had just experienced, for them to secure belongings, put cars in garages, and prepare for what was to come.

By the time DW and Kid 2 returned, the rain was light and the sky was no longer ominous.

We arrived at Kid 2's apartment with little incident and unpacked the trailer under rainless clouds. Miraculously, not a scratch nor dent was inflicted upon our Honda.

The devastation wreaked on Ottawa wouldn't be apparent until Sunday evening, when we returned home and saw the closed streets, felled trees, and darkened traffic lights. Our neighbourhood seemed to have minimal damage, save for no electricity.

I would be remiss if I didn't recognize and thank the people who reached out to me and my family to offer freezer and fridge space, a hot shower, food, a place to set up my work computer, with Internet, and to charge devices. It's heartwarming to see our community come together in times of crisis.

Thank you!

How did you fare? Where were you when the storm hit?

If you live outside the affected region or in another country, did you know about this storm? How did you hear about it? How did your local media present it.

Wherever you are, stay safe. If you're still without power, let me know how I can help.

This was the storm of all storms. I don't think anyone will forget where they were when it hit.