The Toronto July 2013 Storm

GO Train stalled by water

On Monday, July 8, 2013, a huge storm passed over Toronto causing major flooding in parts of the city. Some of the major highways, such as the Don Valley Parkway (DVP) were turned into rivers and had to be closed by the city. The storm came at the worst time possible, at about 5pm, during the rush hour when everyone is trying to get out of the city and get home.

I live in Etobicoke a suburb of Toronto to the west of downtown. I work in the downtown core. It normally takes me an hour to commute into work. Fifty minutes on a good day. The travel home can be just as easy. On July 8, that stormy day, I left work at precisely 5pm thinking that I would be home at 6. 6:30 at the very latest. I got home just after 9pm cold and wet. A little over four hours.

Just two subway stops from where I normally get off, everyone was asked to get off the train. Shuttle buses were supposed to be running on the street above, in the same direction as the trains. This was not the case. After waiting in the rain for forty minutes, I decided that the shuttles weren’t coming so starting thinking about an alternative route.

... and the streets shall become rivers...

Toronto streets run essentially in a grid. Forget the shuttles. My route from work to home essentially takes me west and then north. I’d gone as far west as the train would take me, but not far enough. The shuttle bus that would have taken me to my ultimate western destination wasn’t in sight, so I thought that I could take a northbound bus and eventually find a westbound bus. It’s a grid.

But northbound buses couldn’t be found. Over an hour had passed and still only southbound buses headed to the lake were in plenty. Everywhere I could see the frustration. Families that had little ones in prams were mostly affected. With the crowds waiting for the non-existent shuttle buses, there’s no way a pram was getting into a bus. People had been at work all day. They were tired and courtesy was the last thing on anyone’s mind.

The tunnel at the Queen Street Subway Station

I looked around and observed. It was almost as though I was studying strange phenomena. For once, I wasn’t flustered or anxious at all. I didn’t feel bothered or irritated. In fact, I was thinking about my feelings and thinking how wonderful and how strange this all is. Wondering how this can happen in a first class city like Toronto. But then again, looking at people getting flustered and comparing them with the same unruly crowds that don’t line up for buses in Nairobi.

A northbound bus showed up but the crowds were too dense. I stepped back and let everyone in. Not everyone could fit, of course, and some even more flustered and angry people were left on the side. Inside the bus I could hear swearing and cursing. People were pushing and shoving and there were those who didn’t want to be pushed and shoved. I moved away from the bus and looked around. The shops had closed. The street lights were off. The traffic lights weren’t working but drivers were allowing pedestrians to cross and seemed to be taking turns to navigate the intersection.

The Don Valley Parkway... need barges!

The rain would turn to a drizzle and then suddenly increase in intensity. At this point, almost two hours at the subway station, waiting for the never-coming shuttle, everyone was wet. Nobody was bothering to wipe their faces. Shirts and blouses were wet. Shoes were wet. Little children were wet. Everyone was wet.

Quietly a westbound bus arrived. It had a different number, another northbound, but it didn’t pull onto the stage for passengers to get on. It stopped a little distance away. The driver got out, locked the door and rushed into the station. I assumed that he was going into the washroom and would come back and then let some more northbound passengers get on. Those who had been left by the one that had just left. But as soon as the driver returned, he changed the number on the bus and suddenly it was a westbound bus!

The 427 and Burnhamthorpe... barges there too!

So my journey westbound continued. I abandoned my original thought that I would go north.  Some people rushed out of the station as soon as they realised that this bus was going west. The driver was only going to make two stops. There was an Indian man standing near the front door of the bus, next to the driver. He was very anxious to get home and kept asking people trying to get on to get off! There were people getting on the bus that had a question, or two, or three for the driver. They wanted to know where he was going. This Indian man would shout “Kipling station!” at which point an additional question would come from the would-be passenger. “I’d like to go to….” But the Indian man would only tell them to get off, that they were delaying the other passengers on the bus. He eventually managed to get the bus going and we were off.

After a number of detours, I finally got to Kipling station, my westbound destination. I now needed to find a northbound bus, my bus number 45 to complete my journey. So I walked over to the bus #45 stand and there were a million people waiting. Well, not exactly a million, but definitely about four bus loads! Once again, I leaned against one of the doors, not going outside to the bus platform, and watched. I had no desire to listen to music or read. I couldn’t read; I was too tired. And music would have interfered with my thoughts. I just watched how people behaved.

When the first bus #45 appeared the worst of humanity showed up. The bus driver was shouting at the top of his voice, “stop pushing! stop shoving!” The mass of zombies forcing their way into the bus was relentless. Some zombies also were shouting.

While this was going on, a second #45 slithered past the first one, unnoticed, and stopped a little ahead. Those of us that saw it walked over and got in. It didn’t take long for this one also to fill up, but I was inside. That was all that mattered. It was probably about 8:45pm at that time, but I knew that I was home.

Once home, all I had to do was navigate up eight floors to my apartment, shrouded in darkness, take a shower, eat a guacamole, cheese and tomato sandwich washed down with soya milk, and I was done!

The DVP was really, really bad! But some people will try.

I monitored the twitter feeds from my phone. That was the only way to keep in touch with the outside world. Enbridge, Mississauga’s hydro provider claimed that about 50,000 people in Mississauga had been out of power, but that was being resolved. Toronto Hydro, our provider of electricity claimed that 300,000 people were out of power. And that’s across Toronto. Over two hours later, at 11:30pm, the twitter information has improved a little. Enbridge is reporting 25,000 out of power and Toronto Hydro says its 250,000 on their side.

Looking out of my window, towards the west, I can see the Mississauga skyline and I can tell that there’s a lot of bright electric light out there.  If I look south, at Etobicoke, we’re still in the dark. Someone needs to talk to our mayor. Perhaps arrange a meeting, a pow wow, with the mayor of Mississauga.