We Ran a Tight Ship

'It was private property. We had rules.'

Part 1: Trucker Town Rises out of a Frozen Farm Field

Photo supplied by Jeannette

Between 50 and 200 trucks were soon onsite at the Exit 88 trucker camp at any given moment. "We had trucks from Nova Scotia to British Columbia," says Michel, who oversaw matters from 5:30 am to 10 pm every day while brewing 300 to 600 cups of coffee.

"It was private property, and we ran a tight ship. There was no drugs, no partying, no nothing."

Jeannette, who spent 25 years in the banking industry before retiring to help with the farm, nods. "We had rules. No fires, no alcohol. I don't care if you drink in your cab, whatever. But I don't want to see one beer can. I see one can, you're out."

Over the course of that month, they did eject a few people - for recording video (also against the rules), and for snowmobiling on their land without permission. They also turned folks away. Such as a car full of young people looking to party.  

"There was nothing planned," says Michel. "Everything was on the go, all with volunteer staff." Jeannette chimes in,

There were so many people to help with the snow, to help with security at the entrance. Then we had people volunteering to wash their clothes. We had a list of places where you could take a shower. People would take them in. Some truckers were stuck downtown, their truck couldn't leave. So one of them would stay in the truck, the other partner would come, wash. Then the next one would take their turn.

Soon, she says, "there was a shuttle bus going back and forth" - a van driven by volunteers.

Police officers dropped in probably four times, explains Michel. "They came in the tents. Everybody was relaxed. There were no horns, that's one of the things. Blow your horn in Ottawa, but not here. There's people sleeping around here. And all the truckers say, 'No problem.' So it was pretty good."

On every occasion, the cops gave them the thumbs up, told them things were being well run. He remembers a particular officer. "She went through the camp. Halfway, she was fighting back tears. Because she couldn't believe what people were giving away" to support the protest.

When the kitchen ran low on certain items, it would be written on a white board along with the date and time. Someone must have been posting photos of that board to social media. Within two or three hours, says Michel, ten pounds of bacon would be delivered. Or several large cans of coffee.

A refrigerated trailer ended up on the property. It was malfunctioning, but an electrician showed up and fixed it for free. "We had a truck that came in," Michel recalls. "That guy was from Alberta. His transmission broke. They found a part, the garage sold it at cost." A local mechanic donated his time, and the problem got resolved.

"If somebody would've told me that people were so generous, I would never believe it," says Michel. "We had people coming in from everywhere just to volunteer. From Toronto, from Ottawa."

Amidst everything else that was going on, Convoy-related souvenirs became available. People would stop by with samples of t-shirts or hoodies. "They designed something, and they came down," he says. "We had them hanging up. That one is 10 bucks, that one is 25 bucks. As long as you ordered before three o'clock, you had it the next morning at eight."

Jeannette also recalls a religious element: "We had preachers coming in. Do you need a prayer? I go, 'Yeah, I believe in God, I believe in good, I believe in bad. But if you're sitting beside me, don't start preaching to me." Michel adds, "A couple came in, I said, 'You can come in, have a talk, but no preaching around here.'"

A Fox News team visited. So did the New York Times. Jeannette explained her philosophy to these journalists:

We want to help both. We want to help people in Ottawa, and we want to help this protest. People that are scared of COVID, or scared of the vaccine. They both have the right.

I don't believe in the mandates. You do your shit, I do my shit. You want to eat vegetables? I eat meat. You might be right, I might be right. But at least I will live with my decisions and the consequences of my decisions.

next installment: Nobody Talks About WHY People Were Scared