In the heart of the triangle of darkness

Joyce, reporter, Saint-Hyacinthe, January 14, 1998, 5:30 p.m.

The press conference called by Premier Lucien Bouchard and the President and CEO of Hydro-Québec, André Caillé, just finished.

Every day, they provided updates for us reporters, but mostly for the thousands of disaster victims at shelters who tuned in. Since January 9, I’d been keeping track of the situation at Saint-Hyacinthe. I talked to anxious farmers, and I followed members of the Canadian Armed Forces who were picking up branches, and fire fighters and police officers knocking on doors to persuade people to leave their homes. I also rode along with the men and women from Hydro-Québec who were busy rebuilding the network. I was tired, but I had to keep the public informed, let them know that the situation was improving.

The region in the triangle between the towns of Saint-Hyacinthe, Granby and Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu was hardest hit, hence the name “triangle of darkness.”

Hazards of travel

Walking was risky during the ice storm. Streets and highways were strewn with broken branches and power lines, trees were threatening to fall onto the pavement and traffic lights weren’t working. Montréal’s South Shore became even more isolated when all the bridges closed on January 9, due to falling ice. The Louis-Hippolyte-Lafontaine bridge-tunnel was the only way across the river between the South Shore and Montréal.

Deicing operation

After the storm, all the ice had to be removed. Residents started chipping the coats of ice off their cars. Cities tackled sidewalks, streets and municipal buildings. Businesses began to deice their buildings, while the government worked on roads and bridges. Hydro-Québec set to deicing undamaged distribution and transmission lines.

Three fundamental needs

The widespread blackout raised three pressing concerns: how to light your home, how to eat and how to keep warm. Candles, flashlights and batteries settled the lighting problem. People made do with food that could be heated in a fondue pot or cooked on a barbecue. And to keep warm, thick blankets, generators and slow-burning stoves did the job.

Cattle farmers

Power outages were a big worry for farmers in the triangle of darkness. The health of their herds depended on light, heat and relative humidity. To protect their livelihood, they needed generators, which Hydro-Québec provided to many of them. Obviously, no shelters were equipped to accommodate cattle.

Hospitality of family and friends

On January 11, Premier Lucien Bouchard appealed to the public to take in friends and relatives from the disaster areas. The temperature plummeted, and power wasn’t about to be restored anytime soon. That’s when Quebecers really became aware that it wasn’t a just matter of hours, as they had first thought.

Shelters

Shelters with heat, light and showers were quickly set up. Anyone who couldn’t stay with friends or family was welcome. Volunteers pitched in to assist municipalities and civil society organizations. Their size and available services made schools a natural location for shelters. Some kids found themselves back at school despite everything—but with no classes or homework.

Personal safety

With the temperature dropping constantly—to about -20°C—personal safety was a growing concern. Fire fighters, police officers and soldiers were going systematically from door to door in disaster areas to check that people were using safe and effective heating systems and to find anyone who might be vulnerable (seniors, sick people and children). When they found an alarming situation, they recommended that people go stay with relatives or friends or move into a shelter.