Tribute to the courage of a power lineman: Edmonton City Light and Power Department, by Harley Reid

Date: January 1945

My father, Harley E. Reid, retired in 1955 from the Edmonton City Light and Power department.

Over the years as a power lineman he answered many callouts after hours, weekends and holidays, responding to Edmonton¹s electrical emergencies. He worked alone on most of these trouble calls be it 40 below or a summer thunderstorm. One Saturday evening during January 1945 I rode with my father when he answered a call to a West end warehouse fire. I was fourteen years old and wide eyed with excitement. We arrived at the fire scene as the firemen were laying out their hoses. Dad parked the truck and after putting on his climbing gear he was soon up the pole and working.

The base of the wooden power pole began to give off smoke from the heat generated by the burning warehouse. My father had climbed the pole to disconnect the electricity and protect anyone fighting the fire from being electrocuted. Now he was trapped as the power pole began to burn and the rising smoke and heat hid him from the people on the ground. I could hear him coughing and he shouted for me to tell the fireman not to put any water on the pole because the power was still on. Before I could react there was a popping noise, a loud bang accompanied by a brilliant flash of light, which lit up my father. It also attracted a city policeman who ran over to the base of the pole and asked me what the hell was that guy doing up there. Dad told him what was going on and said the power was off now and would the fireman put some water on the pole fire and he would come down.
As he slowly came down the smouldering pole the stream of water that hit him made him sway a bit and stop descending. It was then I noticed his pants were smoking and his face was black. He let the water wash over him and when the stream left him he continued down the pole to the ground. The city policeman steadied him and helped him to remove his climbing belt from around the charred pole.

"You better let me take you over to the Royal Alex and have a doctor check you over," said the concerned policeman. "You look like an extra large toasted marshmallow that fell off a stick."

Dad was coughing and swearing at the same time as he declined the offer. "I'm alright Mike. I need a bath and some fresh air." But the policeman insisted and Dad and I rode over to the hospital in the police car. He was checked over by the doctor who treated the burns on his feet, legs and face. Dad's glasses were cracked and pock marked with little gouges caused when the electric breaker switch exploded.

We went back to the fire in the police car to pick up the city truck. As we arrived the fireman who hosed the pole and put out the fire came over. He thanked Dad for getting the power off and was very concerned about his health. When we left the fire was still going and three more fire trucks were coming to the scene.
Dad drove home because he said there were too many city employees there for me to take the wheel. He never teased me about the tears that were running down my cheeks as I tried to take this all in. I thought he was going to burn up and there was nothing I could do to help. The policeman and fireman were really great to me. They spoke to me like I was a man. That night I grew a lot closer to my dad and to being a man.