Pelee Island / Hwy 401
Well, what can I say? Some of our modern day systems are just not working out. After a peaceful morning spent on Pelee Island involving a class from the Gita, a breakfast and a swim, the four of us from Toronto, like thousands of others, got stranded, not on the island but on the mainland.
Stephen, the driver, took a turn eastbound on the busiest highway in the country—the 401. With road construction happening during the week, a narrow strip with concrete barriers on either side can create a precarious situation when an accident occurs. Traffic came to a stand-still and no emergency vehicles could cross this lane. We were locked in. What does that mean for the poor folks who are trapped in a narrow funnel?
A second accident doesn’t help. Motorists came out of their cars and started talking to each other. Fathers were taking their young ones over the barrier to have them play in the ditch. The fellow in front of us came out of his car, opened his trunk and spent quite a while cleaning his golf clubs. All of us were left in a limbo as to what the problem was ahead of us. Both east and west lanes came to a halt. We were frozen for five hours.
I told Stephen, “I’m walking. Pick me up when the traffic moves again.” A helicopter came to a landing to aid the injured from the accident. I then had the entire 401 eastbound to myself. Motorists were curious to see a monk emerge from a mess.
“I’m taking Bloomfield Road at the first exit,” I told Stephen on the phone. That landed me on the historic trail of the African slaves, “The Underground Railway,” their trail to freedom in the 1800s. Also, it landed me in Chatham, the city where I was born. It was memory lane for sure. You could not believe how many drivers offered me rides and kind words, including the police, during the chaos. People do have a heart. https://instagram.com/p/BXNmgbwl39Q/
May the Source be with you!