What an exciting week.
First there was the Canadian earthquake that struck on Wednesday, and two tornadoes that ripped through two cities in Southern Ontario.
And then today; I attended the protests downtown Toronto. What I experience was not what I was intending on experiencing. Like many others, all I wanted was to be near the hype and excitement, and of course, to get a few pictures.
The first blockade was at University & Richmond. Nothing exciting, lots of cops and mounted police. We could hear a little bit of the protesters up on Queen Street, and overheard from a cop’s radio that they had smashed in a Starbucks.
We were not allowed to walk north on University, and a few people that attempted to were immediately stopped. In the half hour I was standing there, only three people had been trying to cause a ruckus.
“For your safety, I cannot allow you to pass. If you do, it will be a threat to police and security, and you will be taken down.”
From University & Richmond, we walked south to Adelaide and over to Bay. We ran into the protesters heading south, and continued to walk with them. It was intense, with lots of yelling and tears, passion. These protesters were passionate, and I give them credit for that. They’re standing up for something they believe in. But it’s the violence that silences everyone else. Violence will not solve anything, ever. And to quote Toronto Mayor David Miller, “…they call themselves anarchists when really, they are only criminals.”
Eventually there was a cloud of smoke, and the first thought was it was tear gas being dispersed. I ran to get closer to see, and then I saw flames.
Seeing the flames, and the crowd running in every different direction was like being in a movie. It was unreal. I kept thinking, “This isn’t Canada, we don’t experience such displays of violence here…”
As I got closer to the car I realized it was a police cruiser, which was even more nerve-wracking. If these protesters (anarchists, criminals, terrorists…) were torching cop cars, what else were they capable of?
The police formed a line around this time and started beating their shields with their batons. A scare tactic, echoing between the buildings, sounding a bit like gun fire.
I realized we were in trouble when they would no longer let us pass, and get away from the burning carnage. Instead, they were pushing us even closer, causing increased panic in the people around me.
A small group of us gathered under the BMO building roof, right at the corner of King & Bay. We were maybe 50 feet from the burning car, and there was a mix of emotion behind me: tears, sheer panic, yelling, laughter. One girl was screaming, “You can’t leave us here! If the car explodes we are all going to die!”
We stood behind the pillar until the police line on the other side escorted us out of there. We had to raise our hands like prisoners in order for them to lead us out, as if we were the criminals. Then we were stopped alongside the south side of the building, and told to stand still and keep our hands out of our pockets.
My phone was in my pocket but I was able to get out a few text messages anyways.
A few minutes later we were told to keep walking to safety.
We made it to the next block and stood there, waiting for the car to blow up (it didn’t).
It was intense.
