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‘We had no help’: How Collins First Nation escaped the fires with just minutes to spare

Chief Helen Paavola of Namaygoosisagagun, or Collins First Nation, describes waking up on Monday morning in Thunder Bay, prepared for a flight to Ottawa, and receiving pictures of wildland fires from members of her community.

“They said, ‘Chief, look at this. It looks really close. This looks scary.’ And the picture was just of a big plume of smoke, and it did look very close,” she remarks.

Paavola began reaching out to contacts from Ontario’s Ministry of Natural Resources (MNR), and was only able to reach one individual, who was on vacation.

“He did give me some numbers to call, and I tried calling: no answer, no one got back to me,” Paavola recounts.

Paavola tried to keep the MNR in the loop by having her son coordinate with the MNR figure on vacation while she boarded her flight to Ottawa.

“By the time I got to Ottawa, the crisis was basically at the doorstep,” says Paavola, who at this point had still heard nothing from anyone from the MNR, aside from the one figure on vacation.

Later that day, Paavola received a message from a man named Riley, who works for Canadian National (CN) Railway.

“He sent me a video, and he says ‘hey, you need to get the people out of there, the fire is not even two miles from you.’ And when I saw the video, I couldn’t believe it, and I started panicking, so I called my sons in the community, and I said ‘you guys have got to get out of there, get out of there now, like you have to leave.'”

Escaping the flames

Collins is a remote and isolated community, with limited access to the provincial road network.

A rough dirt road and the railway both come close to the community, but the final stretch to and from the town must be traversed either by boat, or by snowmobile in winter, which complicated the escape.

Scott Frank, a member of Namaygoosisagagun, was involved in evacuating the community.

On Monday morning, he says the community was aware of heavy smoke, but had initially thought it was coming from a more distant fire.

“Concern wasn’t too high at that time,” he says.

But once Riley from CN warned the First Nation with his video, the community sprang into action.

“He had shown us a video of how serious that fire actually was, and how fast it was moving towards us. And yeah, it was at that moment that we realized how serious it was, and we went into full evacuation,” says Frank.

Frank says the community didn’t have a strict evacuation plan, but once the adrenaline kicked in, everyone in the community pulled together and moved quickly.

“Me and my coworkers, we knew that we had to get our elders out, so we started driving around town… We were getting everyone to the beach where we had our boats,” he recalls. “At that time, the flames were already entering the community. You could see the fire and how fast it was moving towards us. It was a matter of minutes before that fire, like, completely took out our community.”

As the community boarded their boats and took off, “we looked behind us and we could see those flames following us, right behind us the entire way,” Frank adds.

He describes his state of mind during the escape as “almost like a blackout state. I was aware of what was happening, but I wasn’t really concerned about my safety. I was concerned about just getting our members out and doing what has to be done.”

Scott Frank, a member of Namaygoosisagagun who helped the community escape, stands outside the First Nation’s health office in Thunder Bay. PHOTO: SAM GOLDSTEIN/ACADIA BROADCASTING/JULY 16, 2026

25 community members were evacuated by boats.

When they reached the other side of the lake, they found 3 vehicles ready to pick them up, coordinated by Chief Paavola.

“In the morning before I left Thunder Bay, I spoke to a couple of my workers here and said ‘you know what, get the three vehicles that we own, and just go up there, you know, just in case. Just go. Go to the landing and wait around or whatever,” says Paavola.

Paavola describes a challenging period of waiting, where “there was just silence. I didn’t know whether anybody made it out. I didn’t know if my son had made it, the three vehicles had made it to the landing or not, I didn’t know.”

Paavola was being driven at the time by Chief Melvin Hardy, the Regional Deputy Grand Council Chief of the Anishinabek Nation, when all of this was going on.

“I’m so glad that Mel was with me at that point. I broke down crying, and basically broke down in his vehicle,” she says.

Now that everyone is safe, as Paavola looks back on what happened, she is amazed by the bravery her community displayed.

“They’re heroes in my eyes… They saved everyone there. They didn’t leave anybody behind,” she says. “And the escape is just… I don’t even know; unless you see it, you’ll never fully understand what they endured. You see the videos of the fire, the smoke right on top of them, and they could feel the smoke, the flames, the heat of it. That’s what they were running from. It was just a matter of minutes before my members would have died. And even during that whole time, there was no help. We had no help. They had to do it on their own, and they did.”

Reckoning with the aftermath

A flyover by the MNR of Namaygoosisagagun has confirmed that much of the community was destroyed by wildland fires.

A flyover of Collins by the Ministry of Natural Resources in the aftermath of the fires shows many structures in the community destroyed. VIDEO: SUBMITTED/NAMAYGOOSISAGAGUN.

“The community, it’s just gone. There’s just ashes,” says chief Paavola.

She says the community is currently in a state of numbness as they process the loss of their homes.

“The tears come and go,” she adds. “And as their leader, they’re looking to me to lead them. So it’s not that I don’t cry, I do it all the time now. But you know, they’re here, and I need to be strong for them. And they are my strength.”

As the community mourns what they’ve lost, they must also take stock of what they have: Frank says the evacuation happened so quickly that many left with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

“Myself, I managed to get my dog and that was it. I’m left with what I’m wearing pretty much,” he says.

Frank explains that he has been in a high adrenaline state for much of the week, and it has taken him time to wind down and get some sleep, relax, and reflect on the situation.

“I had some time to really focus on myself a little bit, and I’m just happy to know that our members are safe. Everyone’s here and everyone got out. So, I feel some relief,” he says.

The community is now in Thunder Bay, where they are attempting to set up accommodations.

Chief Paavola says at this point, everybody in the community has a place to sleep, whether in hotels, Airbnb’s, or in one case, a rental home.

“We’ve been receiving donations after donations, which is incredible,” says the chief. “So to all the Thunder Bay people and organizations that have dropped by, thank you. We need this stuff, and I’m very grateful.”

Namaygoosisagagun members unload donated supplies outside of their health office in Thunder Bay. PHOTO: SAM GOLDSTEIN/ACADIA BROADCASTING/JULY 16, 2026.

Several efforts are underway in Thunder Bay to support the wildland fire evacuees from Namaygoosisagagun, Armstrong, and other affected communities.

Namaygoosisagagun is accepting donations via e-transfer at an7gc@anishinabek.ca, or via PayPal.

Author

  • Sam Goldstein is a 2025 graduate of the Seneca Polytechnic journalism program. Sam’s great passions are for history, politics, and food. Born and raised in Toronto, he works as a multimedia journalist in Thunder Bay. You can reach him at goldsteins@radioabl.ca.

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