A city devastated; neighbors coming to its aid; the hunt for a scapegoat: Though the Angelenos enduring wildfires today lead lives dramatically different from those of the people who survived the Halifax Explosion more than a century ago, the stories of the two disasters intermittently rhyme.
On the morning of Dec. 6, 1917, an accidental collision of two ships in Halifax Harbour set off an uncontrollable fire. One of the ships was a Belgian relief vessel; the other was the SS Mont-Blanc, a French munitions ship packed to the gills with explosives such as TNT, picric acid, benzol and guncotton. The disaster was one of the largest accidental human-caused explosions of all time, killing close to 1,800 people and destroying or damaging more than 12,000 structures in the blink of an eye.
When Boston sent Halifax a train laden with supplies and medical staff through a historic snowstorm, it marked a striking early instance of coordinated international disaster relief. So as I watched canary-yellow Canadian Super Scooper planes roar into Los Angeles to help douse the ungovernable firestorms threatening my home, my grieving Nova Scotian heart soared: reciprocity between old friends.
But our city can also glean lessons from the Halifax Explosion — especially about the dangers of scapegoating in a time of crisis. The example of Francis Mackey, the Halifax mariner who was blamed for the disaster, is a reminder that emotionally charged finger-pointing in the aftermath of a catastrophe often finds the wrong lightning rod.
Mackey — whose story we know thanks largely to the historian Janet Maybee’s book “Aftershock: The Halifax Explosion and the Persecution of Pilot Francis Mackey” — was tasked with guiding the Mont-Blanc into the harbor, and, miraculously, he survived the blast. Facing the devastation, the public immediately sought someone to blame, and Mackey, an experienced maritime pilot, served as a convenient scapegoat for the government. He was stripped of his pilot’s license, arrested, imprisoned, vilified in the press and — along with the ship’s captain and the naval officer who oversaw the harbor — charged with manslaughter.
Ultimately, a Nova Scotia Supreme Court justice examined the facts and found Mackey innocent. But the public persecution and reputational damage were done. Mackey, cursed as a “murderer” in the streets, was yet another victim in a shattered city.
In the end, no single person could be held responsible for Halifax’s explosion. The answer was less exciting and more obvious: The disaster was an extraordinary accident in a country at war and a community in the blast zone of a massive arsenal.
Similarly, Los Angeles’ disaster is a product of human-caused climate change colliding with an electrified city built amid combustible chaparral. While the search for answers and lessons is warranted, we would be wise to practice forbearance and refrain from casting personal blame for a little while.
Besmirching Mayor Karen Bass for traveling abroad, prematurely accusing anyone of arson or inventing conspiracy theories about who turned off our hydrants will not douse a single flame, rebuild a single home or bring a single loved one back from the dead. As in Halifax, no single individual is or ever could be to blame.
Renowned for our imagination, hustle and open-mindedness, Angelenos are called by this disaster to show magnanimity in the face of devastation. And if you look in the right places, we already are.
One hundred eight years later, no one who lived through the Halifax Explosion is left. But the Hydrostone, the Halifax neighborhood we rebuilt with American assistance, remains. And every winter since, as the anniversary of the explosion approaches, Nova Scotians send one of our finest evergreens to Boston Common: a Christmas gift and a symbol of our enduring gratitude for the city’s help in our darkest hour.
A hundred years from now, what of the 2025 Los Angeles wildfires will be remembered? Those we lost — and those who helped.
Ben Proudfoot is a filmmaker and the founder of Breakwater Studios.
