Everybody United for Freedom

A year's worth of adrenaline in three weeks.

Part 1: I Need To Be There
Part 2: Ministering Angels
Part 3: Rice and Beans
Part 4: We Were Not In This Alone
Part 5: Good Cop, Bad Cop
Part 6: Everybody United for Freedom

Bertha the cookstove in the foreground. Julie and Andrew (second and third from the left), and friends. Photo by Luc Cherubino. Click image for more info about the photographer.

“It was chaotic.” That’s how Julie describes their marathon cooking stint for Freedom Convoy truckers in Ottawa. “It was crazy. It was like a year’s worth of stuff happened in three weeks.”

It was also draining. On their feet from morning until night. Preparing food. Cooking food. Washing up without a proper sink - quickly, before the water heated on the cookstove cools and freezes. Then on to the next meal. “He lost over 30 pounds,” she says of her husband, Andrew. “He was so busy cooking, he wasn’t eating. And he definitely never took a break.”

During the final week of the protest, things get tense:

• On Monday, the Canadian government invokes the Emergencies Act.

• On Wednesday, Ottawa Children’s Aid advises parents involved in the protest to make “alternative care arrangements” for their kids in case they’re unable to care for them “following potential police action.”

• On Thursday, Ottawa’s bylaw enforcement office warns truckers that dogs will be seized should their owners become unavailable “as a result of enforcement actions.”

When they awake on Thursday morning, Julie and Andrew feel a sense of relief. They’ve made it through the week. Friday is almost upon them. Based on previous experience, thousands of Convoy supporters will flood into Ottawa for the weekend, making a police crackdown unviable.

But things change by the hour, rumours swirl of an imminent police raid, and she can see that Andrew is exhausted. By Thursday evening he says he thinks it’s time to take the kids home. A cook had dropped by the camp earlier that day, offering his services, and leaving his phone number. Julie calls him, invites him to show up the next morning, and explains they’ll be leaving Bertha the cookstove behind for the time being.

Sir John A. Macdonald Parkway group shot by Luc Cherubino. Click image for more info about the photographer.

On Friday morning, Julie and Andrew tell the police blocking their exit that they want to leave. She laughs, “They were very helpful, extremely helpful.”

Saying goodbye to their Convoy family is “very tough,” but Julie consoles herself with the thought that, after Andrew and the kids are settled at home, she herself will return. The drive to pick up the kids is a nail biter. Overnight, everything has turned to ice. The tires of their pickup spin, fighting for traction, as they make their way through the streets of Ottawa, camper trailer in tow.

Police are methodically shutting down the city. The replacement cook is unable to reach the encampment. Soon Julie hears that those who remain have decided to take down the camp.

The day Julie and Andrew leave Ottawa is the day the police begin employing a shocking level of physical brutality against the Freedom Convoy. That evening she writes on Facebook: “I don’t think I’ve sobbed this hard in a long time.” Having been implored so often to hold the line, she feels like a failure. She urges Canadians to speak up whenever their freedoms are being infringed. “Stop complying,” she writes. “Start making noise where you are…Bring your best manners. Be calm. Peaceful.”

Breaking down the Sir John A. Macdonald Parkway encampment is a somewhat rushed, disorganized affair. Tents, generators, full-sized BBQs, propane tanks, furniture, donated supplies all need to be loaded up and relocated. Departing vehicles are unlikely to be permitted back for a second load.

Being both massive and heavy, Bertha the cookstove is left on the median. On Saturday afternoon, friends load it into the bed of a pickup truck. A week later, it makes its way back to Andrew via a third party who delivers it right to their door.

Months afterward, Julie tells me:

So we’re home Friday night. I cried most of the way. It was hard to leave. And then, when we started seeing all the stuff on the news, we just felt so guilty for not being there, and not standing with everybody.

…we were definitely burned out afterwards. We were both sitting in church the Sunday after coming back and we just bawled through all the songs, both of us. I don’t think we realized how the adrenaline was just up for so long.

Looking back on these unforgettable experiences, Julie concludes:

I would absolutely do it again…they can never erase that positive image from people’s minds of all those happy kids, all those grandparents and teachers and nurses and blue collar, white collar, all walks of life, all ages, all colours, races, beliefs.

Because it was everybody. United for freedom.