BLACK FRIDAY: 30 YEARS LATER
Memories of that day in 1987 are still raw for so many
The tornado that hit Edmonton on July 31, 1987, killed 27 people, injured hundreds and caused more than $500 million in damage in today’s dollars.
But 30 years later, does it still mean anything to Edmontonians?
Since the day that came to be known as Black Friday, the number of people who saw the destruction first-hand has dwindled as the city’s population has grown.
Memories of the city’s can-do spirit in the days and weeks after the tornado occasionally resurface with the City of Champions debate, but like all memories, they’re fading.
Historian Shirley Lowe, who huddled with coworkers in the basement of Edmonton Centre mall after receiving the tornado warning, said there’s an entire generation of newcomers and young people that have never heard about the massive storm.
“I think we have a very short, perhaps generational memory,” said Lowe.
In the U.S., a tragedy like the Edmonton tornado would be marked as an anniversary every year, she said. “We tend to be a lot more humble about these things — ‘Well we got over that, let’s go on to the next thing’.”
“I think it’s Canadian,” she continued, “and I don’t know if it’s exclusively Canadian, but I think it’s Canadian in the way that we don’t really tell our stories. I think we think we’re always formative, that we’re too young to have stories.”
The Journal’s archive is filled with stories about Black Friday. This year, to mark the 30th anniversary, we are looking back on more of the memories.
There’s the story of the woman who lost her husband in the storm, and agonized for weeks about how to tell her children back home in Brazil.
Just across the street, workers in an industrial shop were untouched and left to marvel at the storm’s random cruelty.
And there’s the story of the newspaper photographer who ran toward the storm instead of away.
While memories of Black Friday aren’t what they were, Lowe said those who were there won’t soon forget.
“My son, for years whenever some dark clouds would come, he’d head to the basement, and he was only seven when that happened,” she said.
“It’s something that had a lasting effect on us.”
Steve Simon had been working at the Edmonton Journal for around a year when he got the assignment of a lifetime.
Simon, a new hire in the newspaper’s photo department, was at the Journal’s Eastgate plant near Refinery Row on July 31, 1987, when he got a call over the radio system the photo staff used to communicate in the era before cellphones.
The call was from the assignment editor. Funnel clouds had been spotted southeast of Edmonton. Could he get there?
“Just as she said that, I looked up ... and I basically saw funnel clouds basically transform into a tornado,” said Simon, now a photographer in New York City.
While personal cameras weren’t uncommon and camcorders were becoming increasingly accessible, they were nowhere near as ubiquitous as today’s smartphones.
Now, tornadoes produce photos like Lawnmower Guy — the Three Hills, Alta., man photographed by his wife mowing the lawn as a tornado carved a path through a nearby field.
In 1987, iconic photos were the almost exclusive domain of news photographers.
The Journal chatted with Simon on the 30th anniversary of the storm.
Q So you got the call and realized you were the closest photographer. What happened next?
A When I saw this tornado, I was like, “Oh my God.” Then, as a photographer I was looking for a clear view so I can take a photograph. I was looking to find a somewhat unobstructed area so I could really capture the magnitude of what I was seeing. I found an open area where I took that photo in the industrial area near a field.
The tornado was coming kind of across my field of view, so it felt like I had a little bit of time. So I took some shots. I took a
35 mm angle view and then I took a 180 mm telephoto lens. That was the shot I think that was on the front page and it was on front pages around the world.”
Q Did you have an “oh crap” moment as this thing got closer?
A I think sometimes the camera can act as a little bit of a shield, which is a definite false sense of security. But I had a purpose. I was there, and being this eager young photojournalist, I wanted to do my best. But I definitely kind of used my common sense. What I do remember is seeing the debris, and that really shook me to the point where I decided “OK, I’ve got it, let’s get in the car and drive the other way.”
Q Nowadays, many of the iconic photos from events like these come from citizens who capture something extraordinary on their smartphone. Do you ever reflect on that?
A Some of the most powerful journalistic images these days are kind of citizen journalism images, in the sense that everyone’s got at least a phone camera, and it’s a pretty high quality one, so we’re seeing some powerful content because the person has to be there, and it really doesn’t matter what you use to take it. In that instance, it’s not so much the talent of the photographer, it’s the ability to capture this extraordinary thing that’s happening in front of you.