In the winter of 1975/76, a few friends and I rented a house in Campbell River, and we were all working in the bush. I was logging for a small Gypo outfit up in Smith’s inlet. This area of the coast is not for the faint of heart; it has to be the steepest ground I’ve ever logged on. It is a long flight to get there, and if you get on the milk run, it is an all-day trip. The worst thing about Smith’s inlet was the black flies. These guys are hungry. I know that after this, I would never hire out to any camp up there again. My boys both got the chance to experience Smiths Inlet, and they both feel the same way about this coastal hellhole. My youngest was so badly bitten that his face and neck were dripping blood. Even though he was wearing a bug face and neck screen. With all this being said, the whole area is beautiful. It’s the land of the ghost bears.
On a hot Friday night, while I was home between shifts, I had gone out to the bar for the evening and was pretty drunk by the time I got home. I flopped on the couch and passed out. This couch was close to the hallway where our bedrooms were located; the back faced the hall. Not sure why, but during the evening, there was a huge explosion, and it blew the back of the house to smithereens. It sent a blast of flames down the hallway, hitting the couch where I was sleeping, with such force that it threw it across the room with me on it. I woke up from my nap as I was flying through the air.
I landed on the floor by the front door, and I saw the flames go back down the hallway, and then they came back with a roar just as I was diving out the door. I had just lost everything I had. The flames were kissing my butt as I landed on the grass. As I lay there in bewilderment, I noticed my car was on fire where I had parked it by the house. Everything was gone, even my car. I had to run across the road and down to the public phone at the Duncan Bay store, shirtless and with no shoes.
At the time of the fire, I had no idea what caused it and when the fire department arrived, I told them that it could be my roommate who was the cause, and he could still be in there. The others were in camp. As they were fighting this inferno, I realized that if he was in there, he was toast, no pun intended. But not long after this, he came home.
The fire left me with nothing; I had lost everything, I had nothing, not even a pair of shoes. I borrowed a pair from a friend, but they were 3 sizes bigger than I needed and looked like clown shoes on my feet. With no other choice, I headed into town to see if welfare would help me out. They said no. The funny thing was, there was a man next to me at the counter who was getting a voucher so he could buy his dog food. Now, don’t get me wrong here, I am not mad that he was going to get food for his dog and thought it was awesome, it’s just that here I was, completely destitute, and they said no.
I phoned my lawyer to see if he could do something to make them change their minds. He just told me to come to his office, where he gave me a check for 1000 bucks and said to get some clothes. He was a pretty awesome lawyer.
I went shopping, got some new duds and shoes, ate and paid for a week in the Quinsam Hotel. I still had 500 left to eat with, so it was OK. Things always seem to get better, and they would this time as well. My brother came by to see how things were going and said maybe we should go on a road trip. I said to him that I was in.