Ice Siege '98 reflections

Coming to The Chronicle's office on the Monday the 1998 ice storm started, I never imagined it would become the biggest story of the year —and that by the end of the week I would be interviewing West Islanders huddled in emergency shelters provided by their municipality. But there were signs of what was to come. First, as I parked my car across the street from our former offices on Cartier Avenue in Pointe Claire, I wiped out trying to traverse what was a small mound of snow that had been turned into an icy slope with the first drops of freezing rain. After catching my breath and picking myself up, I made it into the office only to realize we already suffered a power outage. After spending the rest of day scrambling to reach various sources and complete non-related ice storm stories, it became clear that the storm was not going to be over by the time The Chronicle went to press on Tuesday. Our Jan. 7 issue had ice storm coverage and information on shelters opening. On that Wednesday, the magnitude of the storm was becoming clearer. The paper's staff was then given the green light — and challenge — to produce a special in-depth edition devoted to the ice storm. The result was Ice Siege '98, published on Jan. 14, an edition that won awards and, even more importantly, was snatched up and much-appreciated by the community. The paper captured heart-warming, tragic and heroic stories (like firefighters rescuing an elderly Pointe Claire couple from their home after smoked backed out from their fireplace during the power outage) to tales of survival, such as a young woman who brought her budgies to the Fairview Pointe Claire Shopping Centre, which opened as an impromptu shelter since it had power and heat.

The Ice Siege '98 edition is probably the best issue The Chronicle ever produced, not simply because of the hard work by its staff, but also that it captured some special memories of a historic event, using hundreds of photos and dozens of articles, including shelter-by-shelter coverage in each community. As I drove from shelter to shelter meeting people, a few things stood out: how quiet it was on the streets; how beautiful the ice clinging off trees could look, although you cursed every time you’d have to scrape ice off your windshield; but it was also amazing to see people helping out and comforting each other. There seemed to be goodwill everywhere under these harsh conditions. Though frustrations over the length of the power outage got under people's skins, many people turned their stays in the shelters into quality family time. For instance, hundreds of hungry residents stayed at or dropped by the old Pierrefonds arena, slated for demolition that year, for warmth and some hot soup. As Allyson Murdock, a Pierrefonds city councillor at the time, mentioned to The Chronicle while at the shelter, too bad it took a natural disaster to bring the community together.