Sweet, Ontario

A storm had passed over Toronto all day, leaving the streets slicked with rain. Finally, when the dark skies had passed, I went for a walk down Yonge Street. I passed by a fruit store and stopped. I could smell it in the wind. Each year at this time, this fruit stand, like many others in the city diplay Ontario's magical wares: locally grown fruit.

I stopped and stared at cube baskets overloaded with blue berries, red strawberries, pyramids of cherry tomatoes; wooden baskets with handles laden with peaches, plums, grapes. Another table had a cache of cucumbers, dark purple eggplant, green peppers. On the ground were squat bushels of corn. The the rainbow was trapped in plump flesh of all these friuts.

Everything was beaded in rain water.

The owner of the store had made crude cardboard signs that read like poety. I tore off a piece of paper and wrote them down:

Sweet Onatrio Blueberries
Ontario Sweet Corn
Ontario Sweet Pears
Sweet Royal Ashburn Plums
Yellow Sweet Plums
Red Peppers (sweet)
Ontario Sweet Apricots
Royal Gala Sweet Apples

It's like Summer's little gift for running out of light as the days get shorter.

Stay Away, Larry King

By 9 p.m., two satellite trucks were up and running on a quiet Rosedale street, a mere five hours after the crash. All of a sudden, two men returning home from their vacation-- like anyone else-- were suddenly at the epicenter of global media focus. When they boarded in Paris, they did not know they had, in fact, just entered a circus.

A reporter from CBC showed up on the front lawn. Roel was on the phone inside. His son sat on the front porch, keeping watch.

"Hi is your dad home,” asked the reporter. “Can I talk to him?"
"He's on the phone with Larry King,"
"Oh," said the reporter, "Is he coming back out?"
"Ya he just went to open a bottle of Champaign."

Roel returned to the front lawn and stared into the camera, answering questions -- the same ones that he had just answered a few minutes ago. He waved his glass of as he talked, saying that what else do you do after surviving a plane crash.

"You celebrate, of course" he says.
"Ha ha ha," laughed the reporter, anxiously.
"But weren't you scared,"
"Sure, but I didnt have time. I'm just happy to be here to have my wine."
"It must have been frightening," the reporter continued, in an obvous attempt to add some drama to the interview -- knowing that Roel was not being traumatized enough to make compelling TV.

Neighbours walked past with their dogs, asking what had happened. Soon a people slowed their cars down to watch the TV cameras.

"Oh a plane crash, really."

CBS called again on my cell phone. They wanted me to secure an interview for the next with either of the two men to air on The Early Show. The producer said we'd have a car pick them up and take them there.

I asked Roel if he'd agree.

"No, nothing before ten. For get it. I'm retired," he said. Then he moved to another spot on his lawn to do an interview with another Toronto station.

I asked Olivier. Yes, he could, but CTV wanted him for 6:30 a.m. The producer called back half an hour later, after negotiating with CTV, that they would share Olivier that morning and split the transport costs. I passed my phone to him and the producer arranged for a car at 5:30am that would take him to the interview - a live national broadcast.

The deal was done. The interview was secured. Job over.

Almost.

"We there until midnight," said the producer.

I was to wait outside the home to ensure that no other US networks showed up to steal him that night. The competition is that fierce. Apparently, ABC or NBC might come at midnight, offer him a hotel room, and whisk him away before CBS got him in the morning. Other's might pose as a CBS representative and show to to cancel the interview later that night.

"People like you, Mike, get run over by other networks. It sounds crazy, but it's true."

The producer also ordered me to arrive at 5 am, well before pick up time, to ensure that ABC or CNN did not try to rush him away in another limo.

By 11 pm the cameras and reporters had gone home. The street was quiet, a few cars passed by. The wind blew through the trees. Automatic sprinklers swept water through the lush shrubbery. Couples were out for a stroll with the dog.

I felt I was on guard against a sinister operative, waiting to ambush my 50-year-old guest.

I also felt a bit ridiculous.

MORE TO COME...

The Guests

Olivier DuBos

I arrived at the home of two Air France passengers, Olivier DuBos and Roel Bramer. It was a stately mansion in the heart of Rosedale -- Toronto's well-to-do postal code with tall trees and red-stone homes. I drove up to the front of their home and saw that a man with a camera and tripod had beat me there. He was from CBC TV. The two men had not yet arrived. We had, in fact beat then to their own home. That is the power of today's information networks. Since their name appeared on CNN 1-hour earlier, using Canada411 and Google Maps, we had found them before they had found their way home.

Friends and neighbours passed the house, stopped and rang the bell, hoping to see if they were doing fine. We, the media, waited on the front step for them to arrive, pens and camera poised. Then another photographer arrived, he set up his flash and waited with us.

Finally, half and hour later, a jeep sped into the driveway. The two men, accompanied by friends, stepped out without shirt, wrapped in Air France blankets, clutching plastic bags filled with their few possessions that they managed to rescue from the burning wreck. The CBC cameraman started rolling tape as they unlocked the door, the flash bulb went off.

"Hello, Sir, hi..." we all took turns talking. "Will you spare a few moments."
"Sure," said "Olivier."
"I need a shower and a drink first," said Roel, as he disappered into the house.

Olivier began to recall his story right there and then for CBC. He said he thought he was going to die, that the plane lost power, the plane was going to fast, he jumped out the plane and ran as fast as he could through the grass at the end of the runway...."

When he finished his statement, he went inside his home. Roel came outiside with a glass of wine in his hand, his new set of clothes dry. He said that he was asleep when the plane went off the runway, his shoes were off. He too thought he was going to die. People were screaming...

Suddenly two satellite trucks showed up, hoisted their dishes into the sky and approached, over the front lawn with their lights blazing. Then others came. More still after them.

The flight was over, safely. But it was the beginning of a greater ordeal... An ordeal so great that I wondered if they would have rather stayed on the burning plane.
MORE TO COME....

Air France up in Flames

CBS News Comes to Toronto

At 4:03pm Tuesday, an Air France flight skidded from the runway at Toronto's Pearson International Airport, slamming into a ravine and catching fire. Soon after the every passenger was able to scramble to safety. By 5:30 the plane was consumed by flames.

By 5:31, the world was watching runway 2-4. CNN's Wolf Blitzer was interviewing reporter from "Toronto Globe and Mail" about what had just happened. Legions of photographers were already en route to the scene to capture the stories and images for their bosses. CBC, GLOBAL, CTV, every Canadian network showed the same grainy video feed from the airport. The screen passed on information, saying there could be up to 400 people on board.

Toronto is now at the centre of the news eye.

Being a news junkie and tragedy tracker, I was glued to the television watching it unfold in six different channels. The phone rang. An old friend of mine who works as an associate producer for CBS News in New York.

"Hey man," he said. "What are you doing."
"Just watching TV."
"You want to work for us?"
I paused.
"Ok."
"Good. We need you to go the airport and find us some survivors. And get them to agree to an interview. You'll get paid."
I hung up. And slowly got dressed and headed to the car. The highways were jammed, it would take hours to get to the airport from downtown. The phone rang again. Change of plan, they said. They wanted me to find two passengers named Olivier DuBos and Roal Braemer. They had just been on CNN recalling their story as they drove home. I did a quick Canada411 search and found their address. They lived near my home. I went.

MORE TO COME...

Hanlan's Point

Who says you need a cottage? Get on the Toronto ferry and go to Hanlan's Point. Walk through the stand of poplar trees. Suddenly the forest gives way to tall sweet grass growing in thick patches between the sands. Keep walking and the breezed sifts through the leaves and suddenly you are facing the broad back of Lake Ontario. When the sun is deep in the west, the water turns platinum. The sails of faraway boats hang on the horizon like paper hats. Find yourself a bit of beach, pull out a towel (take off your clothes if you want), and stare at it all. Step into the water, let the sand push through your toes. Reach down into the cool water and take out red and green rocks, bits of quartz and sandstone -- see if there are any fossils. Skip them accross the water. See small planes circle in the sky. Muisc drifts over the water from a faraway cruise ship. Somewhere, someone is cooking food over a fire. Close your eyes for a while, just listen.

Now open them...

Two old men, naked, walk past hand in hand. They smile. You've accidently sat in the Clothing Optional beach.

Now run.