Vancouver's McAuley Park is "the smallest fully-named park in the city." It was named after Harvey and Theresa McAuley, who were active in the Kensington-Cedar Cottage neighbourhood. Most know the park for its two huge magnolias, or its stand of white flagpoles. A dozen years ago, artist Henry Tsang designed for it a mini-golf course that quickly fell into disrepair, with people tripping over it -- a litigation nightmare until City workers cleaned it up. More recently, a statue was installed commemorating those who fled oppression in South East Asia.
While walking after dinner last night I came upon an SUV that had jumped Fraser Street (heading south) and crashed into the flagpoles. No one was in the SUV, though standing near it was a woman who appeared in shock, holding her wrist. People tipped-toed up to her, presumably to ask if she was okay. The woman would nod, then turn her back to them, and the askers would retract. Eventually a fire engine arrived, disgorging a half dozen firefighters. One of them had all his gear on except his jacket. A younger woman asked if he would pose with her sister.
Another firefighter led the injured woman into the park, toward a table. I was by that time seated at one of the two benches at the centre of the park and within earshot of what was being said -- most of it a recurrent pattern of questioning designed to determine whether a person is in shock or if they are lying. This went on for as long as I could stand it. By then a cop had shown up, observed, then took over from the firefighter. He worked a tighter loop on the woman. It was then that I had to leave.
