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Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Iqaluit FSS

Iqaluit Drug Haven

In 1990, Stacey Campbell, a News North journalist, wrote an article that she titled: “Iqaluit Drug Haven”. She wrote that the Iqaluit airport was the main point of arrival for the entire drug being used all over the Baffin Island region, in the Nunavut. Mail was also another tool used by drug trafficker. It was quite easy to find marijuana, hashish and cocaine.

On the top floor of the eight stories building in which I lived, there were an increasing number of drug users. While only a year ago the place was relatively quiet, it was not the case anymore. From my small apartment, I could hear the shouting in the corridor or in the neighbouring rooms and the “OPEN THE DOOR!” ordered by the RCMP police officers.

There were cases of domestic violence, fights, people which I had to step over to walk in the corridor as they were lying down on the floor in their vomit, totally intoxicated. Near where I lived, somebody was thrown out of an apartment in a rather radical way: the door and its fittings were now missing and there was blood on the wall. The place is far less peaceful than last year.

At the center of the picture, a high rise building inhabited by single people in Iqaluit in 1988.
At the center of the picture, a high rise building inhabited by single people in Iqaluit in 1988.

In a nearby room, several drug users met, mostly on Friday nights. Quite often, tension rose between card games. The place had become unsuitable for somebody trying to rest while on a seven days a week shift work providing air traffic services at the local Transport Canada flight service station.

I remember one time when somebody started to kick on my door while I was studying quietly in my room. I could hear him shout: “I am going to kick your ass!” Since I had no idea of what was going on and as it seemed that I was directly concerned, I opened the door.

I then recognized a person whom I politely asked, at least six months ago, to try to lower the noise level. All those months went by and tonight, in an altered state, he suddenly remembered that request. He visibly took my request as a personal insult. He was now under the influence of an unknown substance and was angry.

He was standing in the corridor. Any moderate reaction on my part seemed useless, considering his situation. It appeared that only a quick and radical move would bear some success.

I tried to slowly close the door but he blocked it with his hand. The situation was getting worse. I waited few seconds and tried again, calmly and without a word. In few seconds, if nothing was working, there would only be one solution left. I gently pressed on the door and he totally surprised me by letting go so that in about twenty seconds, the door was closed again.

All this was done in total silence. In my room, I stood few feet away from the door, expecting it to be slammed open but nothing happened. Only that silence all around. After few minutes of having stood still, waiting for the next logical step, I realized that everything was over. What a weird night! This would not have ended the same way in a big city down South.

I can really say that in 1990, Iqaluit was in fact a drug heaven. Moreover, the floor where I had my room was no exception. I was eventually able to move to another floor where there were people with a more balanced lifestyle and the need to sleep once in a while…

For more real life stories as a FSS in Iqaluit, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Iqaluit

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Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Iqaluit FSS

Iqaluit: the lady who was robbed before my eyes

(Precedent story: two airline captains forced to delay their departure from Iqaluit)

Iqaluit NWT 1989
Iqaluit NWT 1989

Iqaluit, Nunavut, 1990. One day, just as I was getting out for a walk, a young lady came to me asking that I catch a thief who had just stolen her handbag. Such a request coming from somebody living in a huge city would not have been surprising, but I never thought that I would hear that in a small city like Iqaluit. I initially thought it was a joke and wondered where the hidden cameras where positioned but when I turned around, I saw a man running away with something in his hand.

I instinctively started running after the man and, as I was closing in on him, he had a choice to make: he either slowed down and I caught up with him or he kept the pace while going down a slope made of huge rocks with sharp edges. He chose the second option and started jumping from one rock to the other, lost his balance, and fell head first against the rocks.

Still lying down and with blood all over his face, he saw me closing in progressively until I was just beside him. I requested the bag but he refused to give it back. He certainly expected me to beat him up, but I was not there to give anybody a lesson. I waited a bit, until he calmed down. I then asked him a second time to give me the handbag. He finally agreed.

The man stood back up, barely noticing the blood he had on his face. Without saying a word, he started following me while I was slowly going uphill to meet the lady. Every now and then, I turned around to ensure that he was not coming toward me with a knife or a rock in his hand. Once on flat ground, I meet the lady and give her the handbag. Eventually, the thief caught up with us and the lady started shouting at him, using me as a shield in case the man lost his temper. I did not need another crisis now that everything was settled.

When she was done with him, the thief tried to get closer to me. I made sure to keep the length of an arm between the two of us in order to avoid a sucker punch. I had trouble understanding that after such an incident, the man had chosen to walk with us, like nothing ever happened. He finally said his first words: “You run fast, like Ben Johnson!”

Finally, after a short walk, the three of us arrived exactly where everything had initially started. The incident had been dealt with and the lady decided that she would not call the police. She went away after thanking me, the man returned to the bar where he came from, and I was finally able to take a walk in Iqaluit’s peaceful atmosphere, few hours before going back to work at the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS).

(Next story: two Polish asylum seekers in Iqaluit)

For more real life stories as a FSS in Iqaluit, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Iqaluit

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Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Inukjuak FSS

Acquisition of an Inuit sculpture in Inukjuak in 1982

(Previous story: Inukjuak: last hope for a Twin Otter low on fuel)

Once in a while, an Inuit carver would visit the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS) and surrounding Environment Canada buildings in Inukjuak, in the Nunavik, to offer one of his new creation. The main problem is that these visits were forbidden by the workers co-op. If the carver was caught selling a sculpture without going through the co-op, he lost his right to sell his regular production to the cooperative. But the temptations to bypass regulations were strong.

First, some sculptors considered that they were not receiving enough money from the cooperative for their work. Most knew the real sale price of their carvings once those ones were displayed in specialized stores down South. Secondly, there were sculptors who suffered from alcoholism. They could not buy alcohol in Inukjuak but knew that Whites had generally a small quantity of it in their ownership. Some sculptors were taking a chance and visit Whites at their working place during night time.

Some Whites took advantage of that alcohol addiction and acquired beautiful sculptures in exchange of a bottle. There was and there are always several problems associated with such an attitude, the most important being that the Whites help perpetuate the difficulties lived by native communities with regard to alcohol. The devastation caused by alcohol and drugs in certain villages of the Northern Canada is well documented and this is why several locations have put in place a strict ban on alcohol consumption. No store can sell it.

But an inhabitant of a northern village knows that Whites have some alcohol in their possession. People sometimes came back home after a day of work only to notice that the house had been visited by an intruder. Nothing had been stolen except the alcohol, although other valuables were immediately available to the thief. The problem is that violent acts are mostly committed when alcohol and/or drugs are involved. It is thus important to avoid being an indirect actor of a potential drama.

The sculptor being the author of his creation, he has the right to take a risk and try to get a better price for his work by avoiding the workers co-op. However, it is risky: his attempts are going to bring him more money until he is caught.

A rare opportunity to buy a sculpture directly from the carver was given to me one winter evening while I was working at the flight service station. A sculptor showed up with his carving which he deposited on the briefing counter. It seemed to be large-sized piece, at least according to the size of the packaging. It was protected by a simple blanket and was about 18 inches high by 12 inches wide.

He told me that he wanted spirits for his work and nothing else. I replied that I did not have spirits in my possession. He then asked for beer. I had some beer in my room, but refused to tell him. I offered him money which he clearly refused: he only wanted alcohol at the approach of the weekend. I refused to modify my line of conduct and, a few seconds later, saw the sculptor disappear with his creation, confident that he would quickly find a more flexible customer.

(Next story: assertions concerning the massacre of dogs of sleds during years ‘ 50 and ‘ 60)

For more real life stories of a FSS in Inukjuak, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Inukjuak

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Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Inukjuak FSS

The Inuit who wanted to shoot Whites with a .303 caliber rifle

(Precedent story: the long awaited aircraft)

This is where we worked and lived in Inukjuak in 1982. One of the buildings holds the Transport Canada flight service station.
This is where we worked and lived in Inukjuak in 1982. One of the buildings holds the Transport Canada flight service station.

Note: It is only an out of the ordinary true life story. Normal relations between Whites and Inuit are entirely peaceful. Besides, we all know of situations in the southern cities where whites have tried to shoot people. The following story therefore presents an unusual and rare case.

In a Northern Quebec village named Inukjuak,in 1982-1983, the buildings layout was simple. On top of a nearby hill was the whole village, populated overwhelmingly by Inuit. Down the hill, near the airstrip and Hudson Bay, were the few buildings where Environment Canada employees and Transport Canada flight services specialists (FSS) could be found. There were only Whites living and working in this area.

One evening during winter` 82 -` 83, someone knocked on the door and entered immediately without waiting for an answer. It was the auxiliary police officer. He was an unarmed young man who occasionally helped the unique village policeman. He told us that the policeman was absent from the village and that he must fend for himself. He urged us: “Lock your doors and turn off the lights, do not go out unless it is essential, as there is one Inuit armed with .303 caliber rifle who wants to shoot white people.“

It was, of course, a complete surprise for everyone. It was easy to deduce that the shooter looking for Whites would choose the easiest solution and head towards our buildings to shoot somebody at random. Not wanting to be a sitting duck, I went to my room and grabbed a locked suitcase that had been sleeping for months on a shelf. I took out a Remington Classic 700 BDL Bolt Action and loaded the magazine.

We established a plan, with the other two persons in the house. Two of us would have to get out and head toward the flight service station, where there was an unarmed FSS female employee working alone. Chances were that she was not aware of what was going on. One of us would bring her back home and the other one would then complete her night shift at her place, since the station could not be left unattended.

While we would be gone, there would be one person left in the house with a gun to protect himself if necessary. This employee had just arrived in Inukjuak. I still remember his reaction when we were getting ready to leave. I can hear him say: “But what is this crazy place?“

We closed the outdoor floodlights and headed to the flight service station with our weapons. Walking in the dark, crouched like soldiers during wartime, we arrived at the Transport Canada building where we found the employee occupied at her normal duties, completely ignoring the possible presence of a nearby shooter. I took her place to complete the night shift while she returned home accompanied by an armed employee.

Once alone in the operating room, I shut the lights while keeping a small lamp to illuminate the console radio frequencies. I lay the rifle flat on a counter, the lock removed for faster use if needed. The radio console was located opposite a large window: it left us totally exposed to anyone who would decide to shoot through it. I therefore had to stay away from the normal working position, except when responding to radio calls, until we received fresh news about the shooter.

Twin Otter inbound for Inukjuak on a very windy day in 1982.
Twin Otter inbound for Inukjuak on a very windy day in 1982.

The improvised night shift ended without incident in the station, but I learned that multiple shots were fired at a vehicle traveling near our facilities. Projectiles pierced doors, but luckily they did not hit the vehicle occupants. Within hours of the event, a tactical response team of the Sûreté du Québec arrived in Inukjuak and controlled the shooter.

Even if this story took place decades ago, I still remember very well the atmosphere on that evening. When untrained civilians must load firearms to potentially use them against another human, it cannot be forgotten.

(Next story: emergency clean-up)

For more real life stories of a FSS in Inukjuak, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Inukjuak