Lac-Megantic church opens for mourners

LAC-MEGANTIC, Que. - A Quebec town mourning dozens of deaths has begun its formal grieving process, as the Lac-Megantic church opened its doors Friday for anyone wanting to pray, lay flowers or reflect on the tragedy.

By mid-morning about a dozen people had gathered in the Sainte-Agnes church, just a few blocks from the site of last week's deadly derailment. Hours later, the crowd had grown to about 30, with a handful more wandering the grounds.

Some paused at the top of the steps to peer down at the crumbled town centre, just visible beyond a heavy construction fence.

Though the building was spared any noticeable damage it was shuttered for days while police combed the area for signs of the missing and other evidence.

Gaetane Labonte, who lives in the nearby community of Stratford, headed inside to pray for the victims and the families left to grapple with the loss.

"I'm sure people need this — to reflect together, try to comfort each other, try to find something to live for," she said.

Labonte knew two people who were at the Musi-Cafe when it was destroyed by balls of flame. Only one of them survived, she said.

The other, Natacha Gaudreau, once worked as a hairdresser in Stratford, Labonte said. The man who survived told her Gaudreau mistook the crash for an earthquake and instinctively moved closer to the wall.

About 50 people in the town about 250 kilometres east of Montreal are feared dead after a train carrying crude oil came off the tracks and exploded last Saturday.

Church bells will ring 50 times at noon Saturday to honour the missing.

A candlelight vigil scheduled for Friday night was cancelled after provincial police said they wouldn't have the resources to oversee a potentially large crowd. It was unclear whether the cancellation might impact similar events planned in Montreal and other Quebec municipalities.

Most Lac-Megantic residents have been allowed to return home, and only about 10 per cent of the 2,000 who were evacuated will still be shut out of their houses as of the weekend.

As for families that have lost loved ones, a team of more than 30 counsellors has arrived in town to help residents in community centres, fire stations and even public parks.

One grief counsellor says many families will struggle to move past the denial stage of loss because they won't have a body to bury.

And as the initial shock wears off, many in the community could find themselves dealing with post-traumatic stress or survivor's guilt, Richard Vaillancourt said.

"There are people who have gone back to work but they're still haunted (by the trauma)," he said.

Survivors like cab driver Andre Turcotte say they can't stop the horrifying images from continuously rolling through their heads.

He was parked at a taxi stand downtown when the derailment sent railcars smashing into buildings and set off explosions.

Turcotte, who was chatting with one of his pals at the time of the crash, said the nearby apartment block where his buddy's two young daughters and wife were sleeping was immediately swallowed by towering flames.

"He ran toward the fire shouting, 'My girls! My girls!' " said Turcotte, the same cabbie who hours earlier had given the train's driver a lift from the parked locomotive to an inn in Lac-Megantic.

Since the accident, Turcotte said he has popped sleeping pills nearly every night.

Over time, people like him will be able to process those emotions and reclaim their town and their lives, Vaillancourt said.

Vigils and other displays of compassion can provide much-needed support at a time when people often feel alone in their grief, the counsellor added.

Moments after leaving the church, Jean-Denis Martel's voice trembled as he lamented the grim tally of deaths he described as "needless."

Talking about it is painful, he admitted, but also cathartic.

"It helps, it makes you reflect," and think of those who lost loved ones, he said.

The solemn expression of solidarity was felt even by those who stayed outside.

Jacques Mayrand, who lives in a house next to the church, says he has no words to convey his gratitude for the support shown for Lac-Megantic, well beyond its borders.

"I've never been more proud to be a Quebecer," he said.

That residents now have the chance to mourn collectively is "a start," but families of those killed in the blast face a long struggle to come to terms with the trauma, he said.

Visions and sounds of the disaster are ingrained in Mayrand's mind.

He said the noise of a nearby generator reminds him of an idling locomotive.

Mayrand said he and his friends witnessed the explosion from his home. When he was finally allowed to return Thursday night, the same group stared at the rubble from the same seats.

"Like it or not, we're reliving it all," he said.

"But we have to get through this and get back to our daily activities."

--With files from Andy Blatchford