Farewell

This picture actually includes one more person that you cannot see. Ponchos were all the rage, as you can see, but under Lis's poncho is the mystery person, our first child, and technically, also a resident of Ocean Falls.

In May of 1972, events came to a head and after years of threats, rumours and postponed announcements, the news that was not new to anyone, was that yes, Ocean Falls would be shutting down for good. It would happen some time in July, only two months away. There was relief and sadness and because everyone had more than enough time to contemplate the consequences for their own lives, most people had plans. We certainly did too. The decision to leave was made for us so we chose the exact day. I put in my resignation and with two weeks to go before D-day, we packed our few belongings and reserved a flight back to Vancouver.
Our desire to travel during the summer months overcame our desire to stay until the end. My sister (tall, blonde, in the photo) saw it as her last chance to come so she spent the last few days with us there and flew out with us. She, and Lis's sister were the only family that ever came to see us.
Our good friends, Larry and Rosanne Rae, had decided to stick it out to the bitter end so they came to see us off at the float plane dock. This was the last picture in my camera of Ocean Falls. It was a beautiful sunny day as the plane taxied to the dock and as we took our last look at the town that was settled between the mountains and the sea, we had very mixed feelings. But we would soon be fearing for our lives and days later hearing the most shocking news about our beloved town.