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Bert Whyte tells the story of...

The day the town
burned down

N three occasions forest
fires in Northern Ontario
have wiped out entire com-
munities with heavy losses in
life and property — the Por-
cupine fire in 1911, the Mathe-
son fire in 1916, and the Hailey-
bury fire in 1922.

The Haileybury fire, October
4, 1922 — just 34 years ago
this week — remains vivid in
my memory, because I was one
of its victims. My family lost
house and belongings, and my
mother and brother and I spent
most of the night in the chilly
waters of Lake Temiskaming.

I remember everything that
happened that day. I was just
13, and starting my first year
in high school. A haze of
smoke from bush fires that had
been burning for two dry
months covered the town, and
early in the afternoon school
was dismissed because worried
parents had been phoning the
principal asking if there was
any danger.

Haileybury, a pretty resi-
dential town of 4,000, was built
on a gentle slope, from the rail-
road tracks and the bush on
one side to the blue waters of
Lake Temiskaming (head of
the Ottawa River). The lake
was six miles wide at this
point.

Five miles to the south was
Cobalt, the Silver City, and
many of the miners lived in
Haileybury, while the mine
owners had created a “Million-
aires’ Row” of rich homes at
the north end of the town,
bordering the lake. Five miles
to the north was New Liskeard,
prosperous farming community
in the heart of the famous
Clay Belt.

Naturally, we kids were de-
lighted when school was dis-
missed. “Go right to your
homes, although there is ab-
solutely no danger,” the prin-
cipal told us.

We felt no anxiety. For a

Surrounded by

ties the time that the first
man set foot on these
shores, the lowly clam has
figured in his way of life.
Two thousand years ago and
more they were the mainstay
of the prehistoric people who
lived around the Fraser River
Delta and left the pattern of
their-culture buried feet deep
in clamshell middens.
Centuries later, the pion-
eers learned the virtues of the
elam and coined the saying,
“When the tide is out the table
is set?’ In the days when no
fresh milk was to be had,

~

month not a drop of rain had
fallen and bush fires, burning
by fits.and starts during the
past week, crept stealthily
along the belt of the railroad,
and cast a haze of smoke over
the town.

At noon a wisp of wind had
sprung up. When school was
dismissed it had changed into
a gale, and by the time my
brother and I reached home it
was a tempest, blowing sixty
miles an hour and whipping
the slumbering flames into a
long, roaring line of fire which
threatened to jump the rail-
road tracks at any moment.

Families were starting up
their Fords and leaving for
Cobalt and Liskeard to escape
the smoke. Few really believed

Indian women saved many an
infant by teaching the mothers
the nutritional value of clam
nectar.

One of the most popular
folk songs tells the sad story
of a wanderer who dreamed
of returning to his “acres of
clams.”

Ivar Haglund, the rotund
American ballad singer, par-
layed this into one of Seattie’s
most popular waterfront res-
taurants. And nobody will
deny that a pile of steamed
clams with melted butter,
bowls of nectar and hunks of

that the town was in great
danger at this point.

We had no car and mother
remembered our dad’s con-
stant warning: “If ever the

town is threatened by fire,
don’t try to escape by road,
but run for the lake.”

Lake Temiskaming was only
a few blocks away. We began
walking to the shoreline.

Suddenly the smoke was
thick and black, and we were
choking. A blazing chunk of
timber flew over our heads
and landed on the roof of a
frame dwelling, which caught
fire. Above the smoke the sky
assumed a foreboding red glow.

We realized, with a shock of
surprise, that the town was
doomed. All around us people
were beginning to run. Men
began breaking into houses
(few doors were ever locked

acres and

corn bread makes for mighty
good eating.
xt 5 Os os

Clams, (like ancient Gaul)
can be divided into three parts.
This division is based on their
accessibility which _ varies
greatly as some have learned
to their sorrow.

First the butter clam is a
conch. This is a favorite with
the youngsters and those who
want a mess of eating clams
with a minimum of fuss and
feathers.

The aristocratic razor clam
is another matter. A special

in the small town) and carry-
ing out armloads of blankets.
My brother and I followed
their example.

Less than an hour after we
had left our home we were
squatting in two feet of water,
dipping blankets and then
holding them over our heads.
Like- demons released the
flames had vaulted the railroad
and descended in a roaring,
snapping tornado upon us.
The air was hot and dry and
suffocating. People coughed
and swore.

Great flaming embers whiz-
zed past us and sizzled as they
hit the water. Behind us our
town was disappearing with
terrifying rapidity. Frame
dwellings burnt like tinder and
well known landmarks fell one

acres of clams

“clam gun,” actually a narrow
spade, is absolutely necessary
unless you just want to waste
your time getting your fect
wet.

It is around the famous geo-
duck that the most contro-
vetsy rages. Some folks simply
won't believe (even when they
see a picture) that there are
clams the size of footballs and
with a three-foot neck. The
Oxford dictionary admits they
exist. But it says they are pro-
nounced “dzioduk.” Here-
abouts they are gooeyducks
and that is that.

. Providence — all wet

_ around one or two-0©

by one; the schoo
bishop’s palace, the \
and Matabanic hote
armories, the Hospita

smoke.

Intense heat compel
to keep our faces tur A
from the town. We duckety
blankets every few mo»
they dried almost insta ;

A few yards to my le
the agonized cry of a.
in childbirth. Men
to the shoreline, stood
her holding up wet 2
while a woman attend
The baby was born.

Oil tanks half a mil
went up with a migh
sending a sheet of fla
into the air. a

We lost all track
but this nightmare ©
for hours. Finally, 5

the morning, the flam
sided. We came out
lake, stood on the hob
beach—and I watched, ais
ated, while the rubber bi ite
my shoes sizzled dowP J
leather.

‘

ah
When dawn broke we
dered over the desolate cot
Haileybury had vanishe ro
pletely, and only a ng ia 0
smouldering patch OF “7 {ty

north, however, @ Ne wit
ionaires’ Row,” a ice pal
shift during the me of th | -
saved the residences

cS)
os
Sas

railway line in
masses,
already emergency °F” ig, oy)
laying temporary. tra uld i
that a relief trait * j
backed in from Cobey ot
We saw bodies, hate is
ered them with blat jeg
least 44 people perc!
Haileybury, and sm# 7
munities which eta .
wiped out by the gpl |
Charlton, Engleharh 4 ot?

miles of ruin; six
lars’ worth of proper oo
In the afternoom +
plete our discomforts i.
to rain and then to i pay
the first relief tt eds
cautiously up to and BP
town, my mother alone af F

and I boarded it ® fui. J
hundreds of ieee oh
gratefully accepte om
beef sandwiches 4
teer workers, 4? aestianyat |

. aes
conductor out re {a
Pembroke, bef?;
asleep.

F ig stl }

Gooeyduck hunting oil
for hardy and rae
souls, .They are t0 tide,
on extremely minU ial
these seem to 0c¢
most  disconcert
morning hours.
or three you
shoveled tons ° :
are ready for t joke of

But if you ar? ong Mey
something to eat puttel’ |
ercise, stick to the ou & (0
On: a good peach a pis if
them out with pe) or tit :
It might not be
it gets results.

tel? | :
nave ei

yet
ne Denaal

OCTOBER 5, 1956 — PACIFIC [TRIBUNE — é