By Genevieve Clark, Vestry Member at St. Andrew’s Anglican Church, Hay River

August 13, 2023 – the day it all changed. It was the weekend of the Enterprise Jamboree, a time filled with music, games and laughter. After helping with the breakfast and church service held specially on the Jamboree grounds, I went home to take a break and tell my husband, Elwyn, about the crazy wind that had torn through the site so strongly, it had even picked the ATV used to anchor the stage awning off the ground. The ATV jumped like a fish out of water. I hadn’t yet finished the story when I jumped as an alarm split the air, blaring out of both our phones: The Emergency Alert System.

It was an evacuation order for all Enterprise, Hay River and K’atlodeeche First Nation residents. No warning to prepare, just Get Out, Get Out Now, Fire is coming, RUN.

I ran to the door, calling back to Elwyn that I was going to Hay River to get our daughter. It would be 40 kilometers in the wrong direction, but that didn’t matter. Andrea, our daughter, didn’t drive, she had no other way out. Nothing was going to stop me. Elwyn called her as I left, to let her know mom was on the way, before packing up his truck.

The road to Hay River is more than familiar to me – I’ve driven it twice a day, 6 days a week, for 18 years, but never with such paralyzing fear in my heart. I flew down that road, passing bumper to- bumper traffic going the other way, all while imagining roadblocks up ahead, a police presence waiting to turn me away as my daughter waited on the other side, scared and alone, wondering where I was.

I raced on, fervently praying “Please God don’t let them try stop me from getting her.

I finally made it into Hay River. “Thank You, Lord,”, there were no roadblocks. I grabbed Andrea and we headed back to Enterprise.

It was a slow road out, the highway – the only road out of town – was clogged with desperate people trying to get away while others tried to get onto the service road to get gas and inadvertently blocked the rest of us. My daughter and I both tried to keep the mood light, joking about traffic as we inched ahead and the 2p.m. sky darkened, more and more above us.

It wasn’t more than an hour, though it looked like early evening when we reached Enterprise. We stopped long enough to pick up a few small things before heading south to safety, Elwyn packing a few last things of his own and promising to follow as soon as he could.

As we left our home, hoping it wouldn’t be for the last time, I prayed that our truck would get us somewhere safe. It was our old firewood truck; Old Rusty, I called it. It ran well, despite its looks, but the tires were in bad need of a change.

The sky darkened the further we drove, the air thick with smoke, with only the countless headlights and taillights snaking down the road lighting the way. The traffic was so thick, so tight, I had no way of telling if my husband, a born procrastinator, had even joined it yet, so I asked Andrea to phone him, but there was no service.

We stopped at the border, where we were to meet Elwyn. I ran into the tourist info booth to borrow their phone, only to find out their phone was down too. All I could do was pray “Please God, please don’t let him procrastinate, have your angels kick his butt and get him on the road”.

We waited at the border, Andrea and I, as the sky turned midnight black, for about 20 minutes before, “Thank You Lord” Elwyn drove out of the dark, away from the glowing red on the horizon and we were together again. It was a short reunion, it wasn’t safe to linger, so on we drove, this time with Elwyn right behind us.

When we stopped at High Level gas station, I saw one of my clients from the small children’s drop-in centre I run, and though I didn’t get a chance to speak to her, the look she gave me… Something was wrong.

I told myself it was nothing – we were running from a wildfire, what wasn’t wrong – but my thoughts went to my co-worker and her family. I hadn’t heard from her since this started.

I tried to get ahold of her, but there was no answer, and so I prayed, “Please God, take care of her and her family, make sure they are safe” The next town over, Manning, my prayers were answered when I found her and her daughter in line for the washroom at the gas station. Thank the Lord she was safe. She was telling the whole line of evacuees waiting for their turn what she had seen as she passed through Enterprise. That the town was in flames, that embers had been raining down on their truck, people’s tires were popping from the intense heat.

Suffice it to say, it wasn’t quite what I wanted to hear, but I kept it to myself when I headed back to my family – their spirits were high and hopeful, I couldn’t tear them down, not when I couldn’t know how bad it was. Was it all of Enterprise or just some? Was my house on the back street ok? I prayed that it was. We finally made it to a hotel, in Peace River, around 2a.m. I told my husband what I had heard, and he reminded me of the rumors that fly during a disaster, and joined me in prayer that our home would be ok.

It was in Grande Prairie two days later, just as were heading out to register as evacuees that we got a call from the Mayor of Enterprise.

Our house, our beautiful 7-bedroom house that Elwyn designed, and we struggled financially to build, our home for us and our six children, was gone. My art studio was gone. Elwyn’s garage was gone. The photos, the family Bible, the Christmas ornaments the kids and grandkids had made…. just gone. There was nothing left.

I nearly broke down, and no one would blame me, but then the story about Job and all he lost came to mind. The story that teaches us that God sets us on a path, however thorny and rocky it may see, he sets us on a path, and it is our job to walk it in faith.

As that thought came to me, so did peace. Peace to carry on in faith, Peace that God is in control, that I don’t have to worry, that he has a plan, even if I can’t see it.

Oh, I’m not saying I haven’t cried, because of course I have – even as I write this, I can’t help a few tears – but knowing that God is in control, gave me the support to go on. Because however dark the road, however great the fear, God is always with me.

I am living in faith that things will work out. Faith in His plan has given me peace through the long weeks of evacuation of waiting to see if Hay River would survive, if Andrea’s house would make it, if we would have a place to go in the NWT. Thank you, Lord, it did, and we do.

We did not have insurance. Our main source of heat was a woodstove, making finding insurance a real challenge. With six kids and, for many years a single income, we just could not afford to heat our home otherwise. But I wasn’t worried, because the fire was declared a disaster and GNWT Disaster Assistance Plan would provide financial help to rebuild. Then I found out that there was more to this path, we may not be eligible for assistance because we were uninsured, and even if they do help us to get a small house, 3 bedrooms, so the kids can visit, we will have to have $51,000 cash or credit to pay our portion of the assistance. Even knowing we do not have that kind of money or good credit, the peace remained. We started a GoFundMe, confident that it was ok to ask for help, that it did not mean I was taking control, that I was still on His path, trusting is His blessings.

Today, we continue to live in faith, waiting to see if we can rebuild or if God has other plans. But through it all, through the ups and downs of disaster and God’s peace that passes understanding, we move forward: one step at a time sweet Jesus, one step at a time.

Contact Rev. Francis Delaplain at
St. Andrew’s Church in Hay River
for information about
supporting those who
lost their homes in the fire.
rev.francis.delaplain@gmail.com
867-874-6365
69 Woodland Dr, Hay River, NT X0E 0R8