Around 1989-1990, there was in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, a very quiet Inuit living in the same eight floor building as I did. He spent his free time reading while walking, lost in his thoughts like a priest. When we crossed each other on the street, we always exchanged polite greetings.
One evening, as I was about to leave my apartment to go to work the night shift at the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS), I saw in the corridor a man who was really going through an anger crisis, shouting and using all his determination to destroy a wall with a hammer. He was really going at it and the work was moving ahead very well…
I recognized that person that I was greeting almost on a daily basis and I was now facing a problem: To go work at the FSS station, I had to walk very close to him, since there was no other issue out of the building. Was he in such a crisis that he would not remember me?
I got closer and took the chance to pass just behind him. He suddenly stopped hitting the wall, turned around with the hammer in his hand and looked at me. Then he calmly said, like the gentlemen that he usually was: “Good evening!” I replied then walked about ten meters toward the exit before I heard him shout and hit the wall again.
The least I can say is that, some nights, you could witness the most bizarre situations. And when that was preceding a night shift, in an isolated Arctic post, you sometimes had the feeling to be living in a surreal world.
I do not know how the story ended. The next morning, back from the night shift, I entered a building where everything was peaceful. The only trace left by the man in crisis was a damaged wall. Very soon, somebody would come and repair the wall and that event would rapidly be erased from memories.
For more real life stories as a FSS in Iqaluit, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Iqaluit