Stephen Nelson walked slowly among the ruins of his beloved Alberta mountain community of Jasper on Friday, pausing frequently to share memories that he has collected over the past 16 years or to take photos of the devastation that he says will haunt him when he closes his eyes at night.
It was the first time since a wind-whipped wildfire tore through the commun buy weed online ity last month that Mr. Nelson had been able to walk its streets.
He spoke about renting a room in one home that had been turned to ashes and of a neighbour’s huskies that “sang to him” at a house across the street. A block away, he stood outside a strip of homes seemingly unscathed by the fire and pointed to his friend’s place. She had given him raincoats and a sleeping bag ahead of a big trip.
“She was so good to me,” said Mr. Nelson, 65, who invited The Globe and Mail to join him as he toured through Jasper.
Residents of the small town had been under an evacuation order since July 22 but were allowed to return to the community on Friday as the order was downgraded to an alert. A large Canadian flag draped from the ladder of a fire truck flapped in the wind at Jasper’s entrance, where firefighters and RCMP officers welcomed people home.
But, for people like Mr. Nelson, there’s not much left there for them.
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A towering wall of fire that stretched 100 metres into the sky indiscriminately destroyed buildings and homes as it barrelled through Jasper last month and destroyed a third of the community. The seniors living complex where Mr. Nelson lived was among the wreckage. He had only signed his lease 11 days before he was forced to flee.
“I close my eyes and I’m back in the hallway, standing there thinking ‘I won’t need that jacket. I’ll just take this one,’ ” he said as he stood near the rubble that was once Pine Grove Manor. “How many times in your life do you wish you had a tardis?” he asked, referring to the fictional time machine from the long-running British television show Dr. Who.
Mr. Nelson had struggled for years to find a place of his own in Jasper, which has for decades grappled with housing scarcity. He thought Pine Grove would finally be it for him: the place where he would spend the rest of his life nestled in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. Now, after this visit, he’ thechronfather s not sure when – or if – he will come back to live here.
“I was not emotionally attached. I just got here, so it’s not the memories. It’s maybe lost possibilities,” he said.
“It’s what might have been.”
Workers bringing the town back online outnumbered residents who returned on Friday, some of whom wore gloves and masks to parse through their belongings or assess damage for their insurers. Helicopters flew overhead as the smell of smoke lingered below. Near the Petro-Canada gas station that exploded from the intense flames and heat, a stomach-turning smell of gasoline and devilled eggs punched the air.
Alberta’s Municipal Affairs Minister Ric McIver, during a news conference on Friday, acknowledged that while the return to Jasper is welcomed, the 10,000 permanent and seasonal residents of the town will have a range of experiences. He warned Jasperites that not all services have been restored and that they should be “prepared to be as self-sufficient as possible.”
Mr. McIver added that accommodations will be made available for those who have lost their homes and have no alternative but did not provide details. Instead, he asked residents to fill out the municipality’s online survey on hou buy dolce gelato strain sing needs, even if their homes are intact.
“The survey will help inform efforts to secure suitable housing for those that need it,” he said. “We need to know if maybe you have a room or part of your house that could be someone else’s temporary residence.”
The west side of the town, where most of the damage is concentrated, is a wasteland with bright blue fences cordoning off pits of ash, charred wood and other materials where homes once the chron father stood.
Rust-coloured carcasses of vehicles, free-standing staircases and the skeletons of trampolines and patio furniture were among the wreckage. Vehicles abandoned as people fled last month were scorched by flames that melted their taillights, paint and rubber window seals like icing on a cake in the summer sun.
As helicopters buzzed overhead, Mr. Nelson walked toward the remnants of the St. Mary & St. George Anglican Church. He remembered sitting in the church’s pews on the first Sunday he returned to Jasper 16 years ago and bein the chron father g captivated by the beauty of its stained-glass windows.
“This is just heartbreak,” he said. “They talk about building back better but you can’t build that.”
On the way back to his temporary home in Hinton, about an hour’s drive east of Jasper, Mr. Nelson said seeing the town was like attending a funeral. He said it brought him clarity: There is nothing to return to. There won’t be for many years.
“You know when you have a dream about your ex?” he asks. “You wake up, and because it was so real, you reach over and there is nobody there, nothing there. That’s what it is.”
“It’s a hard reality.”
With a report from Carrie Tait