Flowers are left near the crime scene after a man drove a vehicle into pedestrians at the annual Lapu Lapu festival celebrating Filipino culture, in Vancouver, on April 27.NAV RAHI/The Globe and Mail
It’s a cliché, of course. You never think it could happen here. And then it happens here.
“Here” is East Vancouver, the scene of unimaginable tragedy Saturday night. It is also home.
East Van, where I live, is a community of communities. It is as diverse as the people who live here, and the neighbourhoods that flow into one another. We are from China, India, Britain, Florida, Toronto.
The Philippines.
When a fire destroys businesses many blocks away, including a boot store and butcher shop, we smell it in the air. When a beloved advocate for drug users and the Downtown Eastside community dies, we are moved – even if our paths never crossed.
And when the unthinkable happens at a Filipino street festival – where a car rammed into a crowd, killing 11 people and injuring many others – we mourn.
Nida Salinas and her nephew Patrick Cruz, members of the Filipino community, place flowers at Fraser and 41st on the morning of April 27.Marsha Lederman/The Globe and Mail
“I’m really sad,” said Nida Salinas, holding a bouquet of tulips Sunday morning, two blocks from the epicentre of the horror. She lives not too far away.
“I [wasn’t] at this festival, but I’m a Filipino, right? I just want to–” She took a moment. “I just want to cry.”
So shaken up, Ms. Salinas could not initially remember her age (she’s 68). She is from the Philippines but has lived in Canada for about 30 years. She works as a cleaner, and once the news began to spread, she started hearing from her clients, worried about her.
She came to Fraser and East 41st on Sunday with her nephew, Patrick Cruz.
“We wanted to reach out and show our prayers and support,” said Mr. Cruz, 40.
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They were among many people arriving at the terrible scene with flowers and teddy bears. Some strode solemnly along the path through nearby Memorial South Park; others parked at a Church’s chicken restaurant on the corner. One man drove up on his motorbike straight from the gas station, where he heard what had happened.
A Vancouver Police Department officer acted neighbourly as he directed the flow of mourners away from the closed-off crime scene and toward the growing memorials. He also told group after group that, sorry, the Tim Hortons on Fraser was closed. People were polite, thankful.
And shaken.
Ramon Lavin was there when the car came barrelling through. He saw people being hit.Marsha Lederman/The Globe and Mail
“I’m so shocked at this moment,” said Ramon Lavin, who manages that Tim Hortons, and was there Saturday night. The concert was just ending at around 7:59 p.m., he said, when the car came barrelling through. He saw people being hit.
“I thought it was a terrorist attack,” said Mr. Lavin, who is Filipino. He ran back to the store. “People were screaming. I saw total chaos. You cannot imagine.” He was very emotional, clearly shaken and hadn’t been able to sleep Saturday night.
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Listening to him, I wasn’t a reporter. I was a neighbour. I wanted to give him a hug. I wish now I had offered to.
His colleague, Will De Guzman, a multiunit manager responsible for five Tim Hortons, brewed up a couple of cardboard carafes of coffee inside the closed location and brought them out to the VPD mobile command centre.
“This is just something that I could offer to the officers. This is not something that the boss told me, ‘Hey, do this,’” said Mr. De Guzman, who is also Filipino.
“I talked to the officers,” he continued. “If I can give something to them, anything, just a simple coffee, it’s a gesture from me, from us, that we care as a community.”
Down the alleyway, a family hurried into their car from a home along the festival route. They were on their way to attend church services, apologizing for not having time to speak.
People can be so kind and polite, even on the bleakest morning. Even to a journalist mixing into their business.
A Vancouver Police Department officer acted neighbourly as he directed the flow of mourners away from the closed-off crime scene and toward the growing memorials.Nav Rahi/The Globe and Mail
But it’s my business, too. This tragedy is all of ours.
Earlier Sunday morning, the guy working at a bakery near my house told me he had been at the festival, but left early, thank goodness. It was so fun, he said, so fun.
He is also Filipino. Like Mr. Lavin, he could not sleep Saturday night. But his people are okay – his family, his friends.
As I walked home with the fresh baked goods in my bag and the cherry blossoms raining down on me in the soft wind, I thought: But what is okay?
We are not okay.
We are all connected. And maybe in those connections, we can find some solace.
To the Filipino community, my fellow Vancouverites, my East Van neighbours: We are a village. We mourn together.
Also, ask for that hug, if you can.
