On the morning of July 6, 2013, I started the first of two weeks of well-deserved vacation. I’ve been completely disconnected from the news since the night before. I chose to shut down my computer, not to read the news.
I need to pick up.
At the time, I was the director of communications and spokesperson for the Canadian Teamsters Union. I regularly deal with all kinds of difficult situations: strikes, lockouts, plant closures, etc.
Suddenly, my cell phone vibrates: it’s Radio-Canada. I have no idea that the worst train disaster in the history of Quebec occurred that night.
I take the call. An electric shock runs through my spine as I listen to the journalist. I quickly understand that the situation is very serious. In the minutes and hours that followed, an avalanche of texts, emails and calls fell on me.
Although my union does not represent the personnel of Montreal Maine & Atlantic, it nevertheless defends the interests of the vast majority of employees who work in the railway sector. It is therefore natural that journalists turn to me.
My vacation is obviously over. I am entering a marathon of interviews that will last six consecutive weeks. I make myself available 24/7; sisters and brothers in the railway sector lend me a hand while providing me with very useful information. I have never learned so much about rail transport as in the hours following the derailment.
In the course of my conversations to document myself in anticipation of the interviews, I note that the fear of such a catastrophe already existed. My railroad friends describe to me, with supporting evidence, the roots of the evil. This tragedy had been written in the sky for a long time, we just did not know that it would take place in Lac-Mégantic.
Some time later, I visit the devastated community. The smell of oil, the atomized buildings, the shapeless mass of stacked cars and, above all, the pain and consternation on the faces of the people of Lac-Mégantic mark my mind. I wasn’t present when it all blew up, but I emotionally feel the shock wave delayed. People look like zombies.
From Lac-Mégantic, there was the Field derailment in British Columbia, where three Canadian Pacific railway workers lost their lives. There were also nine other railway workers who died in various circumstances on the job.
The Transportation Safety Board of Canada recorded 1,038 rail “accidents” in 2021. In the United States, there were 1,095 derailments reported in the same year.
Since July 6, 2013, a CBC report on the death of railway workers in Field, Philippe Falardeau’s documentary on the Lac-Mégantic tragedy, books and countless articles have taught us troubling things about rail transport. However, some questions do not find clear answers.
For example: why aren’t our governments ending rail industry self-regulation? How is it that Transport Canada did not hire more people to inspect the tracks and rolling stock as was requested at the time? Why don’t the municipal authorities prohibit the construction of buildings near railway tracks?
More importantly: have we reduced our dependence on hydrocarbons? Have we tightened all laws and regulations to ensure the health and safety of people and railroad workers? Have the real culprits of all these tragedies been punished?
My colleagues in the rail industry were telling me not so long ago that another derailment could happen in the middle of a big city, in the heart of a sleepy community on a beautiful summer evening or near the neighborhood school. Imagine an explosion in Old Montreal, Toronto or the Port of Vancouver!
Ten years later, I cannot forget the deep mark that the Lac-Mégantic tragedy and its 47 victims left on my life. And I can’t get rid of this fear lurking deep inside me that another tragedy of the same magnitude could occur in 10 minutes.