In every family, there are stories
which define its character. Some of these stories get told and
retold and enter the realm of legend. This is a story my Dad told at
our most recent family gathering. We children have heard this story
many times over our lives, but it was new for the grandchildren. It
is a story of faith in a good God, a story that, had the outcome been
different, there might not have been a family to retell it to.
The day had dawned grey and cold over
the rocks and lakes and pines. The low-hanging clouds forewarned of
a coming storm. It was early November, 1971. Fires were already
crackling in stoves all over the village of
Pauinguassi as Vic and Norma began their day in
their log cabin. It had only been a few short weeks since they
brought their baby daughter home from the hospital but things were
beginning to fall into a routine with their first child.
Pauingassi is a small fly-in First
Nations community located on
Fishing Lake in eastern Manitoba, 280 km northeast
of Winnipeg, close to the Ontario border. Vic and Norma had moved
there in 1970 shortly after their marriage to work with Native
Ministries to serve the people in the community. At that
time, the isolated community, reachable only by plane or boat, had a
store, a church and a school
but did not yet have a nursing station or telephones. The nearest
nursing station was located in Little Grand Rapids, 24 km away across
lakes. The only mode of communication with other communities was
two-way radio.
It didn't take Norma long into the
morning to realize that something was amiss. Postpartum bleeding had
been tapering off, but this morning had brought about a new, heavy,
terrifying surge. Something was not right. She alerted Vic to the
concerning situation then headed back to bed, trying to lie as still
as possible, hoping things would correct themselves shortly. It soon
became apparent that the bleeding wasn't going to stop on its own.
Fear began to creep in. As the morning wore on, Norma began to feel
emotionless and numb towards the danger she was in.
Victor, on the other hand, was feeling
strong emotions. His own mother had died from postpartum
hemorrhaging shortly after his own birth only 28 years earlier. He
did not want to see his wife succumb to the same fate. This drove
him to action.
As soon as the seriousness of the
situation was evident, Vic attempted to contact the nursing station
in Little Grand Rapids on his radio. All he got was static – the
dismal weather and low clouds were interfering with reception. His
own small plane was at Red Lake having the summer pontoons taken off
to be replaced with winter landing skis, or else he would have flown
Norma out of Pauingassi himself. Early to mid November was when the
weather typically shifted and the lakes began freezing over, creating
difficult conditions for any plane to land, where the water was
neither completely liquid for landing with pontoons nor hard and
thick enough ice to land on with skis. He tried the two-way radio
again, getting only static. He tried contacting Pine Falls – still
only static. He tried to keep his panic at bay, but the situation was becoming dire. The day was wearing
on, the bleeding was not abating, the weather was worsening, and
still he could not get through to anyone for help. What more could
he do?
By the middle of the afternoon, Vic
came to accept that he would not be able to contact anyone by radio.
Norma was lying pale and still in the bed. Vic knelt down beside the
bed and began to pray aloud, pleading with God to save his wife, to
send help, to bring about a miracle. Mid-sentence, he heard the
faint rumble of an engine. A plane! It must be landing, or it
wouldn't be here in this storm. He jumped up, not waiting to finish
the prayer. Grabbing his coat on the way out, he ran half a mile to
the store. Hurriedly, he gasped out the situation and his request to
the pilot: please, would he please take Norma to Pine Falls, to the
hospital?
The pilot, Jim Campbell, agreed, but
indicated that he would be leaving immediately while he could still
get out. By this time, the weather was terrible. Snow had begun to
fly, the clouds were ominously dark and the sun had set, leaving
little time and light to take off and fly in these adverse
conditions. Vic ran back home through the howling wind, bundled up
Norma and the baby and took them by boat down to the loading dock.
As soon as they were buckled into the four-seater Cessna 180 plane,
Vic untied the plane from the dock,
pushed it off and the engine roared to life and took off
into darkening sky.
To the west the storm morphed into
white-out conditions over Lake Winnipeg where there were few
landmarks to guide their way. Jim, a veteran bush pilot, was was
clearly anxious on this ill-advised flight, pulling his toque down
over his brow and then pushing it back repeatedly. Norma, however,
sat beside him with her precious cargo, calm and completely at peace,
full of trust that God had already answered their prayers and would
bring them to safety.
By the time they reached Pine Falls,
the storm had calmed enough for them to land safely. The wife of the
air service director, a nurse, drove Norma, weakened from loss of
blood, to the hospital where she was cared for.
Some time later when Norma and the baby
were healthy and at home again, Vic ran into Jim. Vic asked him why
he had flown into Pauingassi on that fateful afternoon. Jim said he
didn't know. He had been leaving Little Grand Rapids to head back to
Pine Falls but for some reason he had decided, despite the inclement
weather, to head back to Pauingassi first. He had left Little Grand
15 minutes before Vic even uttered his prayer.
Before they call I will
answer;
while they are still
speaking I will hear.
Isaiah 65:24
