June 20, 2013. Sweat is dripping off my face. My arms are exhausted from wringing sopping wet towels into buckets to push against the tide of water pouring through the window casings into Mom and Dad’s High River house. I’m staring through the side of an aquarium with a raging river channel 200 metres away, carrying large trees, household items, and patio furniture. Only two hours ago the vista was the Highwood Golf Course. My Dad, stricken with cancer and ashen-faced from hauling boxes up from the walk-out, is sitting silently behind me in a chair staring out at the water…perched on a concrete floor that was formerly carpeted.

high river flood

The scene replays for three hours until a friend and a generator arrive to pump out water. For many in the community, enduring trauma will unfold.

Dad and I watched an army of helicopters rescuing people off high spot islands. It was the last view we shared as we heard the roving loudspeaker telling the entire community of 13,000 to evacuate. Dad died two weeks later. In the midst of the battle for his home he reminded me about the family house flooding in the massive Winnipeg flood of 1950…living with friends for six months while repairs took place. Sometimes the circle of life is macabre.

Enter the Fort McMurray fire of 2016 – the costliest natural disaster in Canadian history.

A few days of reading Facebook updates about Fort Mac – people everywhere sacrificing self for others, expressing generosity in such heartfelt ways – makes the worst of times a window into humanity’s best of times. Action is free of religious, cultural and other boundaries we clutter our conflicts with. Freshly- landed Syrian refugees organize to gather donations. A Winnipeg-based technical services rep with Shaw cable receives a call from a Fort Mac resident asking if Shaw could ping the Internet modem to see whether their house still existed. With a successful result, the rep cries for the peace of mind of a stranger. Grace is raw, humbling, and uplifting.

In High River, knowing my Dad was ill and Mom was away, a crew of a dozen young men came over and moved all the furniture upstairs within 15 minutes. These are what have been called the soulful “selfish unselfish” acts of giving that make you feel good for the giving, and the recipient feel they are not alone in their battle in the receiving.

Eventually, we will gather ourselves up again and move forward with life. Our “togetherness” will tend to fray in situation normal. My hope is our society breathes in some constructive takeaways for municipal plan-making, priorities, and actions in future:

  • Legacy-Build – if we can rise to meet the challenge of calamity in inspired ways, we can do the same thing as we pursue community-building legacy.
  • Societal Progress Reflects Treatment Of Our Most Vulnerable – the highest reflection of society is the ability to serve, unconditionally, those who find themselves in places of need greater than they themselves can meet. Compassion should never have boundaries.
  • Community is Bedrock – calamity is a test of our previous investment in civil society foundations, including healthcare, emergency services, social programs, and donations to aid agencies. These foundations are built on collaboration and generosity of heart and spirit dedicated to “Us” not “Me.” People re-connecting with and prioritizing community-building over other competing interests for time and energy build this foundation. Communities are our homes. It’s up to each and all of us to build the type of community we can be proud of. Don’t abdicate your responsibility to own your share.
  • Respect Governance – to build inspired communities aiming for highest aspiration, we need to step beyond our negative attitude toward government. It serves no constructive purpose. “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country,” in the words of JFK, is a powerful force of change and good if we choose to participate in it, change it, trust it, and take leaps of faith where we currently place obstacles.
  • More Connects Us Than Divides Us – “no matter how old you are, no matter how badass you think you are, if a toddler hands you their ringing toy phone, you answer it.” This Internet meme suggests we are more same than different, if we choose to have that perspective. Let’s stop scrapping internal to our boundaries and position ourselves to take on the world as our oyster.
  • Do The Small Things – hold doors open for people, look people in the eye, and shake hands. The basics of connectivity are the threads that form the fabric of civil and caring society where neighbours matter more than Facebook connections.
  • Focus On Relationships Because Things Are Things – many affected by disaster comment that it’s people and relationships that really matter. Those relationships are most personal in the place we call “home.”
  • Let Life’s Unpredictability Be Your Guide – stop delaying conversation about being great and doing great things, and get busy doing it.
  • Ability To Do Great Things Can Extend Beyond Crisis – society is at its most responsive in times of crisis. It’s tougher to do, but it’s time we apply that same kind of urgency to thinking about planning and building an ambitious future for our communities.
  • Do Less Politicking – politicking around decisions, directions, and actions creates a rigidity that doesn’t serve us well for the nimbleness we need to navigate a future of accelerating change. Let’s adopt a pragmatic and inventive perspective.
  • Start a Revolution – Canadians are more evolutionary than revolutionary, but calamity leaves minds more open to revolutionary decision-making. Think about the amazing things we could do as communities if we let go of the baggage of status quo.
  • Vote – it’s the most powerful form of democracy we have and too few of us do it.

These are ties that bind us if we choose to work together to rise to our full potential. Geese fly 70% faster in formation than they do individually. So can we.