Sometimes you just need to take a break. For months now, contemplating the seven years of bad blood the Bush administration has infused into the nation’s veins since the tragic attacks of September 11, 2001, my thoughts have more often than not devolved into gloomy inventories: of opportunities the United States has squandered; civil liberties it has obliterated; crimes our executives have committed; new enemies we have made.  Even worse, since the Republican Convention, my mind has been stunned by, among other things, the incomprehensible notion that a vice-presidential candidate can score major points with her Bible-wielding constituents by viciously deriding, of all things, community organizers. So, just for a day, I decided to give myself a respite from the hate-filled Bush-McCain-Palin post 9/11 world. That is what led me to Gander, Newfoundland.

Or at least to read about it. It’s a bit of a trek to get there. Only an hour’s ship ride south of “iceberg alley,” where massive chunks of glacial ice from Greenland’s west coast mingle with whales in the North Atlantic, Gander is on the easternmost tip of Canada. It’s so far off the beaten path, in fact, that when the post-attack closure of U.S. airspace forced 39 international flights to land at Gander International Airport, Mayor Claude Elliot’s biggest problem, he told the New York Times was “trying to explain to people where they were.” (Explaining what time it was must have been a challenge too: Newfoundland Standard Time is one hour and thirty minutes earlier than Eastern Standard Time.)

Chances are, however, the 6500 U.S.-bound passengers who found themselves stepping onto the tarmac in Newfoundland didn’t much care what time it was. They were jet-lagged, hungry and exhausted after sitting in cramped seats eating ever-dwindling airline snacks for up to twenty hours before they could pass through security. But five days later — when they streamed back onto those planes wearing the same clothes they had on when they landed — they were exuberant. As Delta Airlines Flight 15 crew member Nazim Asim wrote in a widely-circulated account, it was “like they had been on a cruise.  Everybody knew everybody else by their name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. It was mind-boggling.” 

What had happened? The 10,000 Newfoundlanders (“Newfies”) from Gander and its surrounding towns of Appleton, Gambo, Lewisporte, Glenwood, Benton and Norris Arm had welcomed them like long-lost cousins, taking care of, as Asim said, “every single need [of] those unfortunate travelers.” Asim was not exaggerating:

• Tired? Of course they all were, but the Newfies had no problem putting up 6,500 surprise visitors. The Lions Clubs, the Salvation Army Churches, Gander elementary, middle and high schools, the Society of United Fishermen — every church hall, school, meeting lodge and community center within a 75 kilometer range of Gander — closed for routine business and were outfitted with bedding carted in by neighbors from near and far. The elderly were taken to private homes so they would be more comfortable. Women who wanted to be in non-coed facilities were accommodated; no family members were separated; and pregnant women were placed in or near urgent care facilities.  Striking school bus drivers dropped their picket signs to transport the thousands of strandees to a place where they could sleep.  

• Exhausted, but you’d like a little privacy because you’re on your honeymoon? As Tara Cain recently recounted fondly in the Coventry Telegraph, Gambo residents Brenda and Craig Russell anticipated this delicate situation without even being asked. On September 11, Cain and her new husband were flying from London to Chicago, en route to Las Vegas, San Francisco and Hawaii. They were, she said “pushing the boat out” on an extravagant honeymoon to Las Vegas, San Francisco and Hawaii.  Instead, they ended up spending the first night of their wedding trip on a Salvation Army church floor — with two hundred fellow United Airlines passengers.  Thanks to the Russells’ kind offer of a private room in their home, however, that arrangement was short-lived. Well aware that her discomfort paled in comparison to the suffering of 9/11 victims and their families, Cain remains profoundly grateful to her hosts: “As unimaginable terror was being perpetrated on innocent people, we witnessed firsthand the incredible spirit and kindness of strangers in times of crisis.” 

• Hungry? Just about all able-bodied residents who were not otherwise occupied — high school students, the Sea Cadets, the Royal Canadian Legion and Auxiliary, all church groups, mom-and-pop restaurant owners and franchise employees, individual residents — were involved in feeding the “plane people” with food that was often entirely free. The travelers had Newfoundland blue potatoes, salmon, Kentucky Fried Chicken, somewhat dubious-sounding cod cheeks, scrunchions (fried pork rinds), Subway sandwiches, freshly-baked bread and partridgeberry jam, among other things. 

• Hungry, but Kosher? As Jim DeFede recounts in the delightful The Day the World Came to Town (Harper Collins 2002), on September 12, Eithne Smith, a teacher at Lakewood Academy in Glenwood was madly sending faxes for stranded travelers when one of the several hundred camping out at the school came to the office to tell her that Orthodox Rabbi Leivi Sudak and several others had not eaten for 24 hours: there was no kosher food available.  Not a problem for Smith.  She picked up the phone and arranged for a cartonful of kosher meals to be delivered by a company that provided food service for flights to and from Gander International.  The next day, she collected new dishware, pots and utensils so Rabbi Sudan could turn the faculty lounge kitchen into a kosher cooking facility.

• Feeling a little grimy? None of the travelers had access to luggage, so they were stuck in the same clothes for days. The island community stepped to the plate on that score as well.  Perhaps as a defensive move, but more likely a kindness, they distributed Laundromat tokens and ferried people to local stores to buy underwear. Many donated clothes and invited perfect strangers to come to their homes for a shower.

• Medical needs?  Doctors and nurses were on-call and available around the clock for any who needed assistance. Local pharmacist Kevin O’Brien and his wife Rhonda spent 42 hours straight calling doctors worldwide to track down passengers’ prescriptions and then filled them, often at no cost. As if that were not heroic enough, O’Brien also recruited other pharmacies in the area to supply boxes of nicotine patches for those suffering nicotine withdrawal. 

• Bored? The Canadians offered their surprise guests a choice of excursions, including nature walks and boat cruises. They also loaned clubs so golfers could play a round or two (free) at a local course. There would be no bingo: the Knights of Columbus had to cancel the weekly Bingo Night because the hall was filled with cots, but the pubs were mobbed and the karaoke machines were well used. The Canadian Tire Store — which sells everything — donated thousands of dollars worth of toys. 

• Are you a Tuvan rock band on your way to your first U.S. tour? Coming from South-Central Siberia, Albert Kuvezin and his Yat-Kha rock band may not have considered Gander particularly remote, but they were nevertheless profoundly unhappy to have landed there out of the blue. Literally an underground band for many years while their country was under Soviet rule, they were on their way to New York to start their “Storm over Asia” tour. They needed extra access to phones to make complicated new arrangements and the Newfoundlanders made sure they got it.  Months later, on a site called “Thanks to Gander,” the band members expressed their appreciation: “Thanks a lot for everything you do for us.  Here in Canada we feel like at home in Siberia! We’ll be keeping Gander forever in our hearts. Yat-Kha rock band form Republic of Tuva, Siberia.”

Then, finally — to the amazement of everyone –  after providing five days of royal treatment to their 6500 drop-in arrivals from over fifty countries, the Newfies returned them to their designated flights.  Itineraries had to be changed as much as twelve times, but in the end, as Delta Airlines flight attendant Asim described it, the travelers “were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single one missing or late. All because the local Red Cross had all the information about the goings on back at Gander [International Airport] and knew which group needed to leave for the airport at what time.”

How were they able to accomplish this astonishing feat with no advance warning?  With typical Canadian understatement, Mayor Elliot explained to the New York Times’ Barbara Crossette a couple of months later, “We’re used to helping people.” 

The Newfoundlanders were, in other words, an entire community of community organizers.  And that, it turns out, is precisely what we most need in this post 9/11 world.

Elizabeth de la Vega, a former federal prosecutor with over twenty years experience, writes about political and legal issues for a variety of online and print publications including The Public Record, Tomdispatch, Common Dreams, the Los Angeles Times, Nation Magazine, Salon.com, Mother Jones and Truthout. The author of The New York Times Bestseller United States v. George W. Bush et al., she may be contacted at elizabethdelavega@verizon.net or through Speakers Clearinghouse.