An interview and short story with Author Doug Dolan of New Brunswick, Canada.

 Welcome back!

Welcome to all visitors and to our guest this week, Doug Dolan. 

He has  previously been on the Scribbler and we are most pleased to have him back. If you missed the first visit, please go HERE.

Read on, my friends.

 Doug Dolan was born and raised in the small village of Nelson, beside the magnificent Miramichi River in North-East New Brunswick. Doug is a seventy-year-old novice writer. He has self-published “Stories From the River” a memoir profiling his struggle to find his way through a painful gay labyrinth at a time when it was best to keep such a sexual orientation to oneself. A wide variety of readers has positively reviewed it. He recently completed the historical fiction. “The Mill” It follows the Burchill family of Miramichi over their 140-year dynasty in the lumber industry. He is working on an anthology of Christmas-themed stories to be released in 2025. He has recently completed a novella looking at the murders of two Moncton police officers in 1974. It offers a unique look at the effects their deaths had on one of their own. Doug lives with his husband in Moncton, N.B. 

       There have been several large wildfires in NB this summer including on the Miramichi. Your story is timely. Where did you get the idea for it?

           I was born and spent most of adult life in Miramichi. I have experienced the fear and anxiety of a nearby forest fire. Allan MacEachern’s book, “The Miramichi Fire”, is an excellent factual account of the 1825 events. Valerie Sherrard (a Miramichi author) wrote, “Three Million Acres of Flame “It speaks to the effects that fire had on the people of the region.

   

Tell us about your story.

             “A Question of Faith” is based on the actual experience of John Jackson, the sexton of St. Paul’s Anglican Church and his effort to save the church from destruction. As the flames advance, John struggles to balance his dedication to his faith and his role as a father.

     

What drew you to write the story?

 

The power of religion in the lives of some people interest me. And the lengths some folks will go to give testimony to their faith. The evidence in this case is found in the graveyard of St. Paul’s Cemetery.

 

 

You are a novice writer in your seventies and have written two books. Will you continue to write?

“Stories From The River” chronicles my young life growing up in Miramichi, coming to accept and celebrate being gay. “The Mill” describes the creation of the lumber empire of the Burchill family; a story of resilience and innovativeness covering 140 years. My third book, “Christmas On The River” will be published in November. It includes some of my stories and real experiences of a few, relatives and neighbours including my ninety – eight-year-old aunt. 

A Question of Faith

The Miramichi Fire 

                                                                          

October 07, 1825 7:30am

The dawn cracked like a scar on the cloudless sky. Dew lay miserly on the few remaining plants. It had been four months since rain had fallen. John Jackson tended to his duties as Sexton of St. Paul's Anglican Church in Bushville. The small but dedicated congregation had erected the building in the Spring and Summer of 1825. It sat prominently on a knoll close to the river. John was honoured when he was asked to oversee its maintenance and operation. He and his wife Ann had lived in the Miramichi Valley for a decade. They had made the dangerous journey from their native Scotland with two sons, William and Charles. The boys now fifteen and thirteen were joined by three brothers and a sister (Margaret). The period leading to and a year after the voyage from Edenborough had been unseasonably cold with constant rain. The crops failed forcing the Jacksons and thousands of other Europeans to escape famine. A volcanic eruption on Mount Tambora, Indonesia the previous year had spread a layer of ash across the globe, blocking out the sun for months. The memory of that uncertain period had dissolved with the promise of a brighter future for the young couple and their children.

11:00am

John answered a loud rapping on the vestry door. A terror-stricken resident grabbed John’s coat and pulled him outside pointing wordlessly to the western horizon. The azure blue sky was erased by a coal black cloud thirty kilometers wide and towering kilometers high. His first thoughts were the safety of Ann and the children. He raced to their home and directed William and Charles to gather the bedding and soak it in the river. He and the boys worked to place the wet materials on the wooden roof. Ann was busy distracting the younger children, while leading them to the cellar. He reasoned their stone house would not be a source of ignition. If the fire jumped across the one quarter mile river, they would be secure in the earthen crawlway.

2:00 p.m.

Word had come from Nelson that Malcom's Chapel; the Catholic Church had been destroyed. In a miraculous turn of events, the rest of the community was spared. Several ships loaded with masts bound for England had been caught in a rain of flame and were charred to their water lines. Like most Miramichi residents, John Jackson had no experience with forest infernos. But he had studied the historical documents brought from congregants' homes to make a church library.

One of the papers described previous incidents which occurred in the region. He recalled with fear and some hope one of the characteristics of a big blaze. Crowning is a product of the firestorm. The superheated embers are carried at extended intervals often giving the perception that a structure has combusted spontaneously. Jackson prayed fervently that this phenomenon would spare him and his family. John looked across to Rosebank and Douglastown. He wept as he witnessed a single sheet of flame nearing forty metres in height and kilometres in length bore down on the area. Across the half-kilometre distance, he heard the shrieks of terror from man and beast as they sought a common refuge in the water.

John began to realize that the Bushville side was not experiencing the worst effects.

His thoughts turned to how he might save his church. He ran the short distance to the church where earlier he had placed buckets of water around and sheets provided by neighbours. He had placed a ladder high enough to gain access to the peak. Jackson spent the remainder of the night laying the wet materials across the roof. The valiant effort worked and as the grey smoked filled dawn broke, he felt a moment of joy and triumph. As the black curtain diminished, John recognized a fellow parishioner half stumbling up the wagon path from the direction of John's home. His clothing was burnt and face blackened. His voice was strangled from acrid smoke as he told Jackson the unimaginable news that Ann and three of their beautiful children were dead.

 

October 08, 1825, 8:00am

John Jackson looked over the site of his massive defeat. His lovely Ann and three of their children were gone forever. Trapped in their stone house, they suffocated as the waves of flame stole any oxygen in the area. The remaining children had been taken to a temporary hospital. The sound of the painful screams calling for their mother reverberated in his head. Mercifully they later died from their injuries.

Conversations with his God, when he pondered risking the safety of family to save his Church left him wanting. Jackson died alone six months later in February 1826. Ann and her children are buried in the cemetery of St. Paul's Anglican Church, which stands intact today, a conflicted symbol of religious devotion and the recognition of the price one person had paid for it. 

Conclusion

Statistics help explain the scope of the 1825 Miramichi fire. Sixteen thousand square km (6,000 sq. miles) of forest land was burned in an area extending approximately 150 km (90 miles) northeast of Fredericton. The track of the fire moved to Newcastle, Douglastown Bartibogue on the west and Nelson, Bushville, Chatham and Napan to the east. One hundred and sixty people died. Nine hundred homes and structures were destroyed.

Over the years, an idealized version of the recovery has become a legend. The Miramichi is portrayed as a Phoenix, rising from the ashes, leading to the re-emergence of a prosperous region. The truth is somewhere in the middle. The town of Newcastle suffered the most deaths and property loss followed closely by the hamlet of Douglastown. The initial fear that 3,000 woodsmen spread throughout the Miramichi Valley had perished was proven unfounded.

 In addition, there was a common belief that the maelstrom had consumed all the lands. That also was overstated. Crowning and spot fires leave sections of the forest untouched. A survey five years after the fire concluded that a large portion of marketable timber remained intact.

These notations do not diminish the courage and determination of the Miramichi people. Many immigrants decided to remain and rebuild their independent communities and eventually their commitment to a united city over a century later. As time went on, the population of the Miramichi Valley did not match the growth of neighbouring counties but it gradually recovered. The export of solid white pine masts to the British Navy dropped. That was a result of negative press more than a reduction in fibre availability. The vacuum was taken up as Britain expanded its colonial possessions, needing more ships and supplies. And so, the lapse in exports was short term.

The Miramichi region eventually assumed its place in the province of New Brunswick and the Confederation of Canada. The fire of October 7, 1825, has become a footnote of our history. The strength and determination of the people continue to grow.

 

NOTE: The author gratefully acknowledges Alan MacEachern's "The Miramichi Fire: A History" as a source document.

Visit Doug's blog by going HERE.

Thank you, Doug, for sharing the story and for being our guest.

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