Hi Friends!

The update below covers my momentous time here during the evacuations in June. Click here for the link to the scrapbook

It was just another Tuesday—I dropped off Fr. Dhana at the airport for his previously scheduled vacation to India. Reaching back at the rectory, I attended a workshop and spent some time working on the logistics for the upcoming Summer mission team. A few hours later, I received a message from Fr. Dhana who informed us that our community was under threat from a nearby forest fire. He walked me through emergency protocols via facetime. These forest fires move fast- in the community Facebook group, it was shared that the fire could reach the power lines within an hour, and residents were advised to collect gasoline for their generators. 

Just as predicted, the power went out. When I got back from the long gasoline queue, I sat  alone in the dark at the rectory, thinking how, if anything happened to me, no one would even know. With Pukatawagan being a remote isolated community, our only evacuation options were an 8+ hour train ride or by plane.

The next morning, I was able to reach Fr. Dhana with the satellite feature on my new phone, and with his help, got the landline and Starlink (internet) connected. Once online, my heart was moved to know that the JY community back home and Canada were praying for us. With the landline also on, parish members were calling to check in—breaking the lie that I was alone.

I started helping out at the Community Youth Center, doing what I could as the situation unfolded. When the fire chief arrived, I joined the efforts on the front lines. I’ve sat through many men’s talks—heard speeches about Catholic masculinity, responsibility, and courage but that ride on the back of the truck to the front lines of the fire with the fire chief wasn't theory anymore. It was real. It was about showing up where it mattered most, despite the risks. 

The fire was intense, unlike anything I had heard or imagined—firefighters and volunteers were rushing with hoses, and flames reached some three stories high. What made it more frightening was that evacuation by train was no longer an option—the fire was too close to the train station, and the communities along the rail line were being evacuated. Planes couldn’t land either, as the fire was only 2km from the airport. With other nearby communities also needing rescue, resources were stretched thin.

Back at the rectory for a short break, I called my parents to give an update and quietly said goodbye —it was an emotional moment. Anything could happen in the coming hours. Amid all the confusion and danger, I was gently reminded of the presence of Jesus in the tabernacle next door. A deep sense of peace came over me—a reminder that everything is ultimately in God's hands. Kitsi Manito, (Creator in the Cree language), who made this world, will care for His people. In that moment, it was a complete and literal surrender of my life to Him. 

Later in the evening, thanks to the prayers of loved ones and the community, the wind showed signs of shifting, pushing the fire away from our community which was a great relief. It was past midnight by the time I got back to the rectory from helping out. I was too exhausted to fire up the generator and send the latest updates to my family. I went to bed not knowing what to expect during sleep but had a bag of essentials and a canoe ready to escape via lake if needed. The next morning, Fr. Dhana notified me that I might be airlifted out, and was placed on standby. I had an hour to pack my belongings and church records, distribute perishables in fridge/freezers and clear trash. Thanks to the efforts of Fr. Dhana and Barbara (elder and church leader), a spot was arranged for me for helicopter rescue. It was surreal to watch the fire and smoke from the chopper as we flew to safety. My heart moved to prayer for those still behind. Upon landing at The Pas, I was brought to the Bishop house. 

The next day, as things were settling, something felt deeply unsettling. I felt like a coward running away like Jonah, from the very people I came to serve. As I sat in prayer, a strong inclination stirred my heart—the familiar faces of the elderly and vulnerable came to mind. I felt a strong urge to return to the community to help out. The Mass readings in the morning instilled courage- Acts 18:9-10 “Do not be afraid. Go on speaking, and do not be silent, for I am with you. No one will attack and harm you”. I called my dad to share what I was experiencing. He told me to get my mom’s blessing, probably certain that she wouldn’t agree. She was hesitant but to my surprise called me back a bit  later. In an act of courage and deep faith, she gave me her blessing. She told me later that Psalm 91 came to her in prayer, giving her courage and trust. She thought about all the mothers who had cared for me while I was away from her—sharing their love. Now, seeing those same people in need, she felt it was only proper that her son they once nurtured be there to care for them. 

With my parent’s blessing I reached out to Fr. Dhana and Barbara, expressing my desire to return to the community, fully acknowledging the risks involved. After consideration, my request was declined due to safety concerns and diocesean protocols. In the days that followed, the entire community eventually received assistance and was successfully evacuated to surrounding cities. Only a handful of individuals remained behind, dedicated first responders and essential personnel, to keep the community functioning and safe.

Good Neighbor Response