A few decades ago, the Sanford Townsend Band had a hit on AM radio stations across North America with Smoke From a Distant Fire.
Sure, it sounded bittersweet, melodic and maybe even provided a bit of instant nostalgia for those listening at the time, but when the southern half of the province caught the whiff of smoke from distant British Columbia fires this week it was a bit more than just a pleasant memory of a Van Morrison-stlye '70s song steeped in soft mono sound and fuzzy reception.
I remember a couple of years ago when the sky in Moose Jaw, where I lived at the time, was blanketed quickly and suddenly by a thick, choking smog. I've never recalled the sky being the colour that it was as the smoke from La Ronge area fires descended on the southern half of the province, choking out the sun and effectively ruining any chance of a warm summer. As bad as it was for us to be unable to see the sun as more than a hazy orange ball, and as difficult as it was when the air outside was unsuitable for outdoor activities it paled in comparison to the thousands of people – many of which were First Nations – who were forced to evacuate hundreds of miles away to Saskatoon or Regina to wait out the fires. Indeed, it is and will likely still for many years be the largest fire evacuation in the province's history.
Many thousands of dollars were poured into firefighting efforts to ensure La Ronge, Lac La Ronge and Air Ronge were safe again, but not before major infrastructure was threatened along with people's homes. The airport was even threatened. Residents weren't able to return home for weeks.
Then last year, the fires in Fort McMurray hit quite close to home for many people I know. I worked there from 2008-10 and some of the people I knew were the terrified evacuees, hustled out with little more than the clothing on their backs. Extremely hot weather for the time, coupled with high winds, escalated a fire near the city into the catastrophe that unfolded before our eyes.
I was shocked to see some of the very first images of the fire, which entered from the south, attacking both sides of a highway I'd travelled on a hundred times. There was the sign of a chicken place I'd wanted to check out. There was a Burger King my oldest boy had been invited to a birthday party at.
Then as people fled, houses burned. The Beacon Hill neighbourhood, home to the rink where I'd covered events, was decimated but somehow the Frank LaCroix Arena where minor hockey week was enjoyed every year, survived.
The Waterways neighbourhood lost 90 per cent of its homes. The boys' favourite playground was there and it was within walking distance from our apartment. Poof, gone.
Then the fire raged up the hill into the Abasand neighbourhood. The daycare home where my oldest went to school went up in flames along with 50 per cent of the homes. Another home of friends of mine was wiped out, a fact they weren't sure of until they returned weeks later.
In total, $3.5 billion was the estimated cost for insured damage. Nothing can replace the memories.
Personally in the last couple of years, I've been a little bit on edge whenever smoke from fires far away comes around the area. When we think about the relatively minor effects of needing to stay indoors during somewhat smoky days if we have breathing issues, remember it could be a lot worse.
