When a runaway train filled with oil derailed in downtown Lac-Mégantic on the night of July 5 to 6, 2013, Hélène Rodrigue saw the lake on fire, from her beautiful ancestral home located at the water’s edge, while near Frontenac Street. “I said to myself: this is Vietnam! I saw the pictures ofApocalypse Now. »
An apocalypse. This is a bit what came to mind for many Méganticois after the explosion which killed 47 people. The city center was reduced to ashes and, as tightly knit as it was, the social fabric was also torn. “It broke all the benchmarks,” noted Anne-Marie Saint-Cerny, activist and author of in-depth investigations into the Mégantic tragedy.
Quickly – a little too much for the taste of some – we had to roll up our sleeves to rebuild. Some stayed. But for others, losing their bearings, the exodus has imposed itself.
According to the Statistical Institute of Quebec, hundreds of people have left this small town of nearly 6,000 inhabitants, in demographic decline and struggling with an aging population. At the time, the MRC du Granit was the only one in Estrie to have a negative net migration.
“There are also those who would have liked to stay, but who could not,” observed Mr.me Saint Cerny. “I felt a certain exhaustion from the fights. »
Hélène Rodrigue ended up packing up, after having fought tirelessly not to be expropriated from the family home that she had bought in 2010 in order to spend her beautiful days there. “It was a mental health issue. I had to get out of there, stop being angry and crying all the time. »
This retired nurse says she was fooled and presented with a fait accompli by the authorities. His house, which would not have been contaminated according to what an expert told him, was nevertheless to be destroyed, in case the oil would end up infiltrating it. “What is infuriating is to be kicked out of your home. That’s what I never digested, ”said the lady who has lived in Sherbrooke since 2016.
His neighbour, Miroslav Chum, also fought not to have his house by the lake expropriated. “I was born in a communist country and, when I saw what was happening, I said to my girlfriend: ‘I might go to prison,'” he says, to illustrate his rage and determination. “I had to defend my ground, tragedy or not. »
Even if he ended up winning his battle, this engineer moved in 2020 near Quebec, on land by the water. Each time he returns to Mégantic, he is still overwhelmed with bitterness. “I don’t see myself here for my retirement,” he says.
The field of possibilities
In her office at city hall, Julie Morin, mayor since 2017, does not deny that the tragedy was a trigger. “People left because their hearts told them to go somewhere else, because it was too difficult, and they did well to do it,” she says, barely distracted by the train we see passing by. from the window behind her. “We just have one life to live. »
But for the young professional, who had moved to Mégantic in 2010 to start a family there, this senseless drama rather made her want to put down roots. “I always say that my Megantico roots grew on July 6, 2013. It was so big that I felt I had to get involved,” she explains.
A few months after the tragedy, she was hired as a migration officer at Place aux jeunes, a service of the MRC du Granit aimed at attracting 18-35 year olds to the region. Julie Morin remembers above all an extraordinary effervescence, when young and old came to settle there. “For them, it was the field of possibilities. »
Sonia Grenon, who was also working as a migration agent at the time, goes further. “Before the tragedy, people didn’t know where we were. Is it Malartic? Megantic? “, she says. “But after that, we were on the map. »
A bit like an electric shock, development strategies that were a little too conservative took the edge to make room for innovation, she argues. “We wanted to live in a greener city, and that completely changed the dynamics of the community. We had people who wanted to come to rebuild. »
“Me, that’s what attracted me,” says Joanie Raîche, Attraction, Reception, Integration and Retention (AAIR) agent for the MRC du Granit. At the beginning of 2014, she left Nicolet to contribute. ” [Lac-Mégantic] needed people from outside, who had not experienced the tragedy and who could be more neutral, while being empathetic,” explains the young woman who, like many others, “fell in love” with the city.
Thanks to the various programs of the MRC, including those put in place to attract and retain immigrants and people of all ages, the demographic decline has finally been halted. If Lac-Mégantic had lost feathers in 2016, the 2021 census data showed a slight growth of 1.6% of its population, which establishes it at 5747 inhabitants.
“We are managing growth, it’s magnificent,” argues the mayor, Julie Morin. She still has just taken over the presidency of the 2025 Challenge Committee, whose mission is to counter the decline. “I wouldn’t say the tragedy was an opportunity, but we took the chance to do better for the future. »
Between nostalgia and renewal
The future, Diane Clusiault sees it with resignation. In front of her blue house on Victoria Street, she has just installed little elves and painted wooden animals, which give her property a naughty air. “It’s my city, my home. I will not leave here, ”says this grandmother and great-grandmother, and aunt of Kathy, who died in the explosion. “But I don’t like what they did with it,” she adds, wistfully.
Standing in her dining room, she reads aloud an open letter she sent to The Echo of Frontenac, the local weekly. “We built a new city center supposedly with the agreement of the people. Which: those stricken by tragedy or those who saw a great opportunity to line their pockets? In the Fatima sector, the church was destroyed to make way for a supermarket. “The city no longer has a soul,” she laments, claiming that she is not the only one to think so.
Robert Bellefleur, of the Coalition of Citizens and Organizations Committed to Rail Safety, meanwhile “flirted with the idea of leaving” because of the danger of the train. But he can’t bring himself to let go of his little paradise, located by the lake. For now, he is concerned about the lack of affordable housing. “Those that have been built, like on Veterans Boulevard, are very expensive,” he says. “I’m not sure it’s within everyone’s reach. »
The tragedy will have, in the end, posed another challenge: that of reconciling those who cling to the past and those who look ahead. “There is always a division, no matter what we do,” admits Mayor Julie Morin.
But for her, the wound of the city center is already healing, literally and figuratively. ” [Philippe] Falardeau titled his film This is no accident “, she says, alluding to the filmmaker’s documentary released last May. “I want to say: ‘This is not just a tragedy.’ »