They directed the people in cars to the community center. We gathered together there in small groups. Already there were people organized to help us—local people, volunteers—to welcome us and make us comfortable—until we could go home or find another place to stay.

There were power lines and trees down all around. (I later found out that the electric company had turned off the power when the storm began so that there would be no danger from fallen live wires.)

I was also impressed by the calm and orderliness of the stranded people. They were responding well to what had happened and were helping one another.

The men blocking the bridge were allowing people to cross it on foot, so I decided to leave the car and try to walk home—a distance of about a mile.

When I got near St. Joseph’s House, I saw a car. It was a friend’s! He had gotten across the bridge when it was unmanned—probably for just a short time. He was going to try to go up the road past Madonna House and invited me to come along.

Surprisingly, the road was already partially cleared; logs had been cut and pulled aside. There was enough room for a car to maneuver around them.

On Thursday, the next day, the community center was the center of activity. Somehow people organized themselves to provide meals for whoever needed them: the hydro men, the police, the volunteer fire department, the men working to cut and clear the trees in their own and friends’ and neighbors’ yards, and people who had been traumatized—especially those from the campground.

The outside professionals who were sent in were impressed with the skill of the local men, a number of whom are experienced in bush work (logging). And in the work of cleaning up after the tornado, we’re not just talking about small chain saws on branches and small trees. We’re talking about trees lying on each other, bent and twisted trees, and some of them huge. This is very dangerous work.

Everyone who came to the community center was warmly greeted and given food. Some volunteers spent hours just listening to people.

There was lots of confusion, but people didn’t seem to be getting upset, or else they were trying not to show it. They were very gentle with one another.

So many people were helping with the meals, and some of the women working there were going for twelve hours.

Donations of food came in from all over—the Knights of Columbus, churches of different denominations from around the area, etc., etc.

Restaurants in Barry’s Bay, the nearest town, were very generous. One sent in barbequed chicken, and another, pizza. Some stores sent in box after box of soft drinks.

A group of Mennonites and another of First Nations People came to volunteer.

People never went without food. At one noon meal, the center ran out of food and decided to use what they’d been planning to use for supper. Then at four o’clock a huge food donation came in—plenty for supper.

Meals were served, first in the community center and later on in the Anglican Church hall, for a full nine days after the tornado. People were so grateful for the hot meals.

The outside professionals who were sent in—police, fire departments, emergency crews—were very impressed with how well people had responded to the unexpected crisis. And they were absolutely amazed that there had been no major injuries or loss of life.