Before They Call

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