Here is a post I wrote a few years ago about the Halifax Explosion. Today is the 98th anniversary and this morning I attended the annual memorial service at Fort Needham Park in the North End, a site which overlooks the neighbourhood of Halifax that was completely destroyed during the explosion.
My placement as a divinity student for this year is at St. Mark’s, a church in the neighbourhood that destroyed. The original structure was much closer to the harbour and was completely obliterated in the explosion, the present building was built in the early 1920s. In the explosion around 75% of the people in the parish were killed (that’s parish as a geographical area, not as the list of congregants.)
I thought I might mark this day (while also St. Nicholas day) by posting something else about another important think I (we) recognize on this day, here in Halifax.
I make no attempt to veil or anonymize the fact that I am from Halifax. I was born in the Maritimes, but essentially grew up about 20 minutes outside of the city. It is only recently that I’ve realized, through friends who have moved abroad, that this particular event is reasonably unknown outside of the Maritime provinces. From very early on in school we are taught about it, around this time of year, and we would often observe a moment of silence in school to mark the occasion. I remember once, when I was quite young, a classmate whose Grandmother survived the explosion came to speak to us.
But, as someone on my Facebook feed this morning let people…
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And There Is Every Quest 