In the Face of Fire, Manitoba Stands Together

The wildfires burning through our province have taken much from us. For some, it’s been the loss of treasured keepsakes, family homes, or a lifetime of hard work reduced to ash. For others, it’s been something far greater—the loss of loved ones.

Richard and Sue Nowell were among those taken far too soon. Their lives ended not in the calm of old age, but in the chaos of an uncontrollable blaze near their home in the Wendigo area. I did not know them personally. But I know what they meant to the people who loved them, the community that surrounded them, and the province that now mourns them. We grieve with you. And we will not forget them.

To the Nowell family and to every Manitoban who has suffered loss during these fires: your pain is not unseen. And though words will never replace what was lost, know that you are not alone. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not as long as we have each other.

In moments like these, we must pause—not just to mourn, but to recognize those who ran toward the danger when the rest of us could only watch.

To the firefighters on the front lines, especially the volunteers who left their own families to protect ours, we owe you more than thanks. You are the ones who showed up, under-equipped, outnumbered, and exhausted, and still managed to stop the worst from getting worse. You protected what you could, and gave people hope where there might have been none. That is service in its purest form.

To the first responders who keep our communities safe, and to the public servants working long days and longer nights to get information out to residents—you are often overlooked, sometimes unfairly criticized, but in times like this, you are exactly who we count on. Whether in the Emergency Operations Centre or in a quiet government office updating maps and fire warnings, your work matters. And we thank you.

And yes, I want to say thank you to Premier Wab Kinew. It would have been easy to issue a press release and step aside, to stay behind the scenes and let others handle the spotlight. But instead, he has taken the time to be out front, speaking directly to Manitobans, providing updates, and offering reassurance. I’ve disagreed with Premier Kinew on many issues, and I still do. But leadership during a crisis is about showing up—and he has.

This moment is not about political point scoring. It’s not about who was prepared or who wasn’t. That debate can wait. This is not the time for blame. It is the time for love. It is the time for compassion.

Because we’re all in this together.

Whether you’re in Davidson and Flanders lakes in south Nopiming, the Long and Beresford lakes in north Nopiming, and Wallace Lake, South Atikaki and Manigotagan River, the Whiteshell, The Pas, or Lac du Bonnet, these fires remind us that nature doesn’t care about geography, income, politics, or past grievances. When the wind shifts and the flames come, we’re not New Democrats, or Conservatives, or Liberals. We’re not rural or urban. We’re not old Manitoba or new. We are one people, in one province, trying to get through this together.

And we will.

But we each have a part to play. If you own a drone, leave it grounded. Firefighting aircraft can’t operate when unauthorized drones are in the sky. If you’re safe at home tonight, call a friend who isn’t. Ask how they’re doing. Check in. Sometimes just hearing a familiar voice can make all the difference.

Take time to gather with your family. Share stories, share meals, share silence. In loss, there is space for healing. Don’t let fear isolate you. Lean on each other.

And above all, let’s take a moment and thank our God—or whatever higher power guides you—that we are safe. That we have each other. Because everything else—property, possessions, plans—can be rebuilt. But lives can’t.

This is where we shine as Manitobans. In the face of tragedy, we don’t retreat—we reach out. We organize clothing drives, we open our homes to strangers, we send food, we donate to relief funds, and we show up, day after day, until the job is done. That’s who we are.

It’s easy to forget that in quieter times. But crisis reveals character. And what this province has shown, time and again, is that we don’t leave each other behind.

So let’s keep showing up. Let’s continue to give, call, comfort, and care.

Because the smoke will clear, the roads will reopen. The grass will grow back. But the way we treat each other now—when it matters most—will define who we are long after the fire is out.

Let me close with the words of Mister Rogers, who once said: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

We’ve seen the helpers. We’ve thanked them. Now let’s be them.

For Richard and Sue. For every family in grief. For each other.