A Natural Disaster
The September 20, 1977 Montreal blackout has been forgotten.
Even the internet can’t remember it. But that event and date are stuck in my
head because it was my 16th birthday. I’m not sure what exactly
caused all of Montreal to go dark that day, but it must have had something to
do with the wonderful raging windstorm. I remember the wind because I was out in
it under black, brooding, rainless clouds—reveling in the dark dramatic weather.
I also revelled in the fact that I wasn’t in school; cancelled because of the
power failure. Best Birthday Ever.
I stood in the wind at the end of a street near my house,
enjoying our view of Montreal. It was
dark in the middle of the day, and the downtown cluster of buildings were uncharacteristically
unlit; mere rectangles (like the one in 2001:
A Space Odyssey) against a dark Mount Royal. Meanwhile, my mom was shopping
in the dark for my birthday present at the local department store; using the
subdued daylight coming through the windows to pick out a set of cute sheets. She
had already made my cake. Icing didn’t require any power. My family and I had fancy
sandwiches and birthday cake by candlelight for my 16th birthday.
There haven’t been many natural disasters in my part of
Canada. In our country, “we don't have...world-famous volcanoes” (to quote “The Arrogant Worms”, in
their introduction to a song that explains what we do have, which is lots of rocks and trees and water), but there
have been a few debilitating blizzards, house-swamping inundations and disastrous
hurricanes…just not around the places I’ve lived. The Montreal/Ottawa area
seems to be a bubble of calm in an anxious world of natural phenomena.
By the time Montreal suffered its major ruinous natural
disaster, I had long since moved to Ottawa and was safely ensconced, with
children, in a small house in a neighbourhood with buried power lines. Everywhere
else in the ice-storm-affected regions, power lines were becoming coated in thick
ice, and crashing to the ground. If the
power lines didn’t crash, ice-coated tree branches crashed into them.
The 1998 ice storm affected Ottawa, but not me. My house never lost its power, and my four
young children had fun sliding outside on the ice with neighbourhood friends
whose school had been cancelled. But back in Montreal, things were much worse. The
internet well remembers this particular blackout.
The Canadian
Encyclopedia even suggests that it was Canada’s greatest natural disaster. By
the time I realized how serious it was, the highway between Montreal and Ottawa
was closed, and my parents couldn’t even have escaped to my house. But that
didn’t matter, since they always roll with what comes their way. They were
experienced campers, and spent that January week in front of the living room fireplace,
heating up spaghetti sauces and soups from the freezer. They even walked the neighbour’s dog.
My parents and the rest of Montreal were without power for
about six days, and gradually limped their way back to normalcy. They managed
to escape the bigger disaster that occurred in a region just south of Montreal--
an area that became known as “The Black Triangle”. This was the place of utter
ice-storm disaster. Infrastructure there was completely ruined, and the people
were without power for many winter weeks.
Fortunately, the NY Times archive still remembers the Quebec 1977 power outage. Good old fashioned print to the rescue.
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