20 YEARS SINCE CRASH OF FLIGHT 111 TOOK 229 LIVES.
It seemed odd to me that they’d rented a U-Haul. I stood watching as the Mounties and members of the military carried black bags that were arriving on the small boats coming and going from the dock. They placed them into the back of the white cube van with U-Haul’s distinct orange strip down the side. I don’t remember how long we stood there; there was a lot of waiting. It was still relatively quiet. The real work was being done about eight kilometres offshore by the search teams at the head of St. Margarets Bay. The swarm of international media that was to come hadn’t yet arrived. Back on the wharf, had it not been for their uniforms, one might have mistaken the activity as fishermen gathering up the garbage after a day at sea – the random bursts of camera shutters and the occasional whirr of Sea King blades in the distance acted as reminders that that wasn’t the case. Offshore, beyond where the iconic Peggy’s Cove lighthouse stood guard, searchers scoured the water for life and any evidence of what had caused Swissair 111 to crash into the dark ocean the night before, killing all 229 people on board. The contents being loaded into the van back on the dock were all that remained of the 229 lives on the flight.
A closer look
Eventually, someone secured passage for a handful of journalists on a local fishing boat that was heading out to the debris field. The vessel was full but not crowded. Aside from the captain and a couple of his friends, journalists – most “from away” – were the passengers. On board I interviewed a local man about the crash. “I heard a funny rumble,” Bob Connors explained. “He thought it was a thunderstorm passing near his East Dover home. He found out later that it was not thunder he’d heard. “My son called asking for his flotation suit. It was in my closet and he needed it because he was going out to help.” At first, as we sailed closer to the site of the crash, the sea offered nothing out of the ordinary. Then there were bits and pieces. Small debris floating on the surface, mostly unrecognizable – paper and plastics mostly. The first thing I thought I recognized was what looked like a foam shoulder pad, perhaps from a woman’s blouse. Maybe not. You knew the fragments had belonged to someone. They bobbed in the black waves. I didn’t see much after that – except the bottom of the bucket that the captain kicked my way when he saw my face suddenly turn green. I really didn’t need to see any more. I’d seen enough. * For more on the 20th anniversary of the Swiss Air 111 disaster see our special feature on Pages B6 and B7 Brad Works is managing editor of the Journal Pioneer in Summerside, P.E.I., a member of the SaltWire Network. He covered the story of the crash of Swiss Air 111 in September 1998.