Hi, Orillia.
It’s been a hell of a week. We’ve lost an historic downtown building to an equally historic fire, a Brampton man has been charged with arson, and I spent about three days chasing everything I could on that story — as did my trusty colleagues, who all rallied together and covered everything they possibly could.
When I first showed up at the fire, it felt like a movie scene. I got an early morning call from not one, but two editors — one who was off work that day, and another who does not enjoy waking up early — about a massive fire in downtown Orillia early Tuesday morning.
I quickly threw on some clothes and drove from my house on West Street North, barely awake, and saw towering columns of smoke and flames well before I even reached the blaze on Peter Street.
I got down there, walked onto the scene, and managed to snap a few photos before the OPP kindly demanded that I get back behind roadblocks. Our desk editor, Nathan Taylor, and I then shared everything we knew over a call and posted a breaking news story.
The next three days were a whirlwind — from the fire becoming a criminal investigation, to the arrest of the suspected arsonist, to the loss of local businesses, to the ultimate and ongoing teardown of the landmark 130-year-old building that housed them.
It was crazy stuff. I fried and ate a steak with my bare hands at one point this week. I ran on pure adrenalin for about 72 hours.
Everyone worked together along the way. Orillia Fire Chief Chris Ferry graciously allowed me to interview him numerous times, and the OPP and the city shared details whenever I asked.
Amazingly, police arrested a suspect before the fire was finally put to rest.
Strangely enough, this is also my last week at OrilliaMatters — I’m set to start with one of Village Media’s other news outlets, SooToday, in February.
No rest for the wicked.
This was one of the wildest weeks of my journalism career so far, and this week’s downtown blaze reminds me of a tragedy from the past that likely led me to this point.
I’m a northern Ontario guy — though I’ve now spent close to a decade of my 32 years alive in Orillia — and I was on the scene when the old mall collapsed and took two lives in Elliot Lake in 2012.
I lived in Elliot Lake at the time, and my friends and I were skateboarding in a nearby town, Blind River, when we got a call about the collapse.
We went back to town, and spent about 30 hours down there on the scene. Premier Dalton McGuinty showed up, emergency crews showed up, and everything possible was done to save a woman — who was still alive — from beneath the rubble.
In the end, first responders got to her a few short hours after she died.
I was a pretty reserved 19-year-old kid at the time, but when first responders held a press conference, I felt compelled to ask a question about whether anything could have been done to get there just a few hours quicker, so I walked up to the podium and asked.
Honestly, I don’t fully remember the answer to that question, but I do remember a few community members thanking me for asking it.
Though I didn’t think of it at the time, I now suspect that experience might have been one of the things that sparked me into a journalism career, and ultimately led me to this week here in Orillia.
Being a reporter is a crazy job, but it’s an absolute privilege to be tasked with getting out there and asking the important questions when things go sideways.
When things do go sideways, you just snap into go mode and get it done. You call your editors, fellow reporters, eat a bare-handed steak, and find out everything you can — because it’s important, and because people legitimately need to know what’s going on.
If you’re dedicated enough, you get answers. It’s a real rush.
I love this work. It’s what I was made to do.
This week was a hell of a send-off for me.
Even though I’m moving to Sault Ste. Marie in the next couple of weeks, I just want to say that I’ve grown to love our small city — and I’d move back in a heartbeat if I could ever afford to buy a house here. But that’s a different column.
As a good friend of mine once said: “I’d rather be dead in Orillia than alive in Barrie.”
I’m not sure of his opinions on the north.
That said, if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a reporter, it’s that when things go bad, people rally together. Especially here in Orillia, as you all saw here this week. It’s a great place that’s hard for me to leave.
To everyone who’s read my work over the past few years, I’d like to say thank you. I honestly gave it my absolute best, and I did have to fix a few mistakes along the way.
Rest assured, OrilliaMatters is in great hands. Our community editor, Dave Dawson, is among the best there is in the entire industry. Nathan Taylor is an encyclopedia of all things related to editing. Tyler Evans is one of the most prolific writers I’ve ever met, and he can crank a softball out of the park any day of the week.
Your new city hall reporter, Gisele Winton Sarvis, is an experienced pro who is an insanely better photographer than I am, and our newest features reporter, Danielle Pitman, is scrappy and upcoming. Watch out for her.
John Hammill and Nicole Parkes don’t have any bylines, but they’re why we can afford reporters like me to get out there every day.
And me? Well, I’m dangerous at both ends of the ice. Just ask Dave. Thankfully, I was in the offensive zone this week.
Take care, Orillia. You’ll always have a big piece of my heart — and I may be back someday.
Until then, it’s been an absolute pleasure. All the best with everything. Keep calm and carry on.
