Terror Beneath Montreal

Description:

From political violence and deadly bombings to suspicious packages, smoke-filled tunnels, and mass evacuations, Montreal's Metro has repeatedly found itself at the center of major emergencies. In this episode of Crash Lessons, we explore the FLQ bombing campaign, the 1984 Central Station bombing, the security changes brought by 9/11, and the modern incidents that continue to bring parts of the Metro to a halt.

Some threats were real. Others were false alarms. But each one revealed an important lesson about emergency response, public fear, and how quickly uncertainty can spread beneath a city.

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montreal_Metro

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/october-crisis

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/front-de-liberation-du-quebec

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1984_Montreal_bombing

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/dnd-tightens-security-after-montreal-bomb-threat-1.190969

https://donnees.montreal.ca/fr/dataset/incidents-du-reseau-du-metro

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lionel-Groulx_station

https://ici.radio-canada.ca/nouvelle/1269574/montreal-transports-commun-berri-incendie-evacuation

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Thousands of commuters packed into Montreal's underground subway when suddenly the train stopped. Station lights flashed, police rushed in, loudspeakers ordered everyone to leave immediately. No one knew if there was a bomb beneath their feet. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Welcome back to the Crash Lessons Podcast. I'm your host Robin, and this is the Montreal Metro Evacuation Scares. For decades, Montreal's Metro has repeatedly become the center of bomb scares, suspicious packages, terrorism fears, electrical fires, smoke emergencies, and mass evacuations. Some were real dangers, others were false alarms. But every one of them revealed just how vulnerable the city can feel underground. So let's get into a little bit of background first. To understand why a single unattended backpack can bring Montreal subway to a standstill, you first have to understand the metro itself. Montreal was Canada's biggest city and was growing rapidly. By the 1600s, hmm, I'm gonna say the 1960s, the traffic was becoming a problem and building more roads was not going to solve the problem. So they needed to come up with something that could transport large numbers of people at once. Quebec in the 1960s was going through a period of modernization called the Quiet Revolution, and the mayor wanted the city to become a world-class city, drawing in more and more people from all around. So in 1961, Mayor Jeanne Drapeau announced plans to build a subway system underground for means of transportation, and five years later the metro opened carrying its first passengers beneath the streets of Montreal. People were more than excited about the opening of the metro because it wasn't just a means of transportation, but it took uh but a look at Montreal's future. The Metro showcased innovative technology. Unlike other North American subway systems, they took inspiration from the Paris Metro, where the trains had rubber tires allowing the trains to break and accelerate more smoothly, climbed steeper grades, and ran much quieter than the steel-wheeled trains. One second, sorry. Uh they had a different architect design each station, so they had their own look to them. Um the metro wasn't just transportation, it was a cultural landmark with its unique layouts, sculptures, murals, stained glass, and other public art. The metro had also opened at the perfect time, just months before Expo 67, which is the World Fair. A modern city ready to welcome the world. But within just a few years of opening, that sense of optimism would be tested. A wave of political violence would change not only the city, but the way people thought about the metro itself. The Metro opened during a very positive time for Quebec in 1966, but not long after that things started to get a little rocky. The rise of the FLQ, or the Front de Libertachan Liberation Du Quebec I'm not French Canadian, guys. Did my best. Took it for a few years. Um which was a radical separatist group who wanted Quebec to become independent from Canada. They did not believe in a peaceful protest and beginning in the early 1960s, they had launched a bombing campaign across across Montreal. During the decade, over 200 bombs were planted and detonated in mailboxes, government buildings, military facilities, businesses, banks, and railway infrastructures, killing several people and injuring many others. How does this relate to the metro? Well, the metro kind of represented government investment, public infrastructure, and was a highly visible symbol of Montreal, which were all the things the FLQ opposed. People were becoming scared of public spaces because of the risk of a bomb being there since so many were going off all around the city. Things started to escalate in October 1970 when the FLQ kidnapped British diplomat James Cross and Quebec labor minister Pierre Laporte, who was later killed. The government responded by invoking the War Measures Act. Montreal was tightening up their security, soldiers patrolled the streets, police made hundreds of arrests, and this was making people extremely anxious. Although the October crisis eventually came to an end, it had a lasting impact on Montreal. The city had learned a painful lesson. Critical infrastructure could become a target, and ignoring a threat wasn't an option. From that point forward, every anonymous phone call, every suspicious package, and every report of a bomb would be treated as though it might be real. The October crisis didn't just change Rentrail's politic politics, it changed how emergency officials approached public safety. But why would a single suspicious backpack or anonymous phone call bring an entire subway system to a standstill? The answer lies in the unique dangers of underground transit itself. A subway is not like a shopping mall or regular office building. It is a literal tunnel underground. There isn't more than one escape if something happens. You're in a crowded small space, and then everyone hears the word bomb and chaos just ensues. You can't just run out into the parking lot, you only have a narrow staircase to escape. Then when you have people freaking out in a small space, everyone is trying to escape, the odds of injuries or people knocked down and crushed, getting trampled on in the chaos increase greatly. In the case of a fire, you should be more worried about the smoke in most situations. Being trapped in these spaces underground allows the area to fill up so quickly with smoke, which makes it hard to see and hard to breathe. Then you have all these subway systems connected via tunnels or vents, and smoke can travel quickly to one platform from another, and people have no idea where the smoke is even coming from. Power outages create a problem because you're underground, so there is no natural light coming in, and again, chaos ensues, and people panic, copying one another. This is called social contagion, which is when in an emergency, when in a case of an emergency, and people do not have enough information to decide what to do, so they end up just copying the people around them. An interesting little fact is that many crowd disasters begin because of a rumor and not the actual problem itself. What happens when there is an emergency? First responders get there to handle the situation, and when people are so congested in a panic, it makes it very difficult to for them to break through the crowd to respond to the incident. Let's circle back to the threat in the first story about the FLQ. Bombs. A bomb threat underground is in the sorry, a bomb threat underground in the subway is much different than a bomb threat above ground in a very open area like a park, for example. It is a whole hell of a lot easier to contain the threat and block off the area if it were in a park rather than underground. Not to mention, if a bomb were to go off underground, that would have more of an impact. Not only can the bomb affect what is above it, depending on where the bomb is placed and the magnitude of it, but it can also travel through the tunnels much further than it would travel if it were upwards and had multiple directions around it to go. Even if the damage is limited to a single station, the effects can spread through the underground systems, making evacuation and rescue far more complicated. That's one of the reasons transit authorities are so quick to shut down stations and investigate every credible threat. By the time Montreal entered the 1980s, police and transit officials had learned a difficult lesson. Every suspicious package, every anonymous phone call, and every report of smoke had to be treated as though it could be a real threat. Most turned out to be false alarms, but no one could know that at the moment, and that caution would shape the next several decades of metro evacuations. The political violence of the 1960s may have ended, but the caution it created did not. Every suspicious package still had to be treated as though it could contain a bomb because no one could afford to be wrong. In the mid-1980s, that caution would once again be put to the test and one of Montreal's busiest metro stations, Central Station. On September 3, 1984, a pipe bomb was planted in locker number 132 and went off, killing three people and injuring 30 more. But just a week before the bomb, the Via Rail police were contacted by a man speaking broken French who said Be careful, it's going to blow. They searched the premises and found no such threat. Then just three days before the bomb, the bombing via Rail received a letter addressed to the dictator of Cosmic Amtrak, Dorchester, warning of the end of the unholy Vatican in a mix between French and English, also speaking of impending violence. Two minutes before the bomb before the bombing, Canadian national officers were alerted to a young man with blonde hair who had been loitering in the station and running around cupping his hands to his ears as if to block out sound. Witnesses later testified they heard something someone shouting Le Pepe Emor, which means the Pope is dead. About an hour after the bomb had gone off, the police received a phone call about another bomb, but there was not there was not one. The bombing took place during Labor Day, so there were hundreds of witnesses, and after the police interviewed them, they basically described a whole lot of chaos. People running, smoke filling the area, and luggage flying around. The police did arrest a man named Thomas Bringham. He was a sixty-five year old retired American Air Force officer from New York. Investigators soon began connecting Bringham to a series of strange warnings that had arrived before the explosion. The investigation was far from straightforward. As investigators searched Bringham's room and belongings, they found writings containing religious references and mentions of a time bomb. Authorities also learned that he had a history of mental illness and had previously made bizarre claims involving religious and pol and politics. Sorry, religion and politics. The evidence gradually pushed investigators towards the conclusion that he was responsible. He denied planting the bomb, but after a long court process, he was convicted and sentenced to life in prison. This bombing actually remains one of the deadliest terrorist attacks in Montreal's modern history. For Montrealers, the Central Station bombing served as a grim reminder that transportation hubs could become targets without warning. While the metro itself wasn't the site of the attack, the lesson was impossible to ignore. A suitcase left undatended in a busy station was no longer just forgotten luggage, it could be something far more dangerous. From that point forward, every suspicious package in the metro would be treated with a level of caution shaped not only by the FLQ bombings of the 1960s, but by the tragedy at Central Station in 1984. The bombing at Central Station was a tragic reminder that attacks on transportation hubs weren't confined to Montreal's past. Although the explosion hadn't occurred inside the metro, it reinforced a difficult reality. Every unattended bag, every anonymous phone call, and every report of a possible bomb now carried a different weight. And over the next decade, those calls would come again and again. Throughout the 1990s, Montreal police and transit officials dealt with a steady stream of anonymous bomb threats. Most came by telephone. A caller would claim that a bomb had been placed in a station, on a train, or somewhere in the transit network. In many cases, nothing was found, but authorities couldn't take the chance of ignoring the threat. The memory of the FLQ and the 1984 bombing were still very fresh in everyone's minds. Knowing that an anonymous call could turn into a very real threat had the police had the police taking every threat very seriously. Stations could be evacuated, trains stopped, and bomb squads called in to search platforms, garbage bins, washrooms, and unattended bags. Even when no explosive device was found, it could still disrupt thousands of commuters. For riders, these incidents created a strange reality. Most threats turned out to be hoaxes, but passengers had no way of knowing that at the time. When an announcement ordered people to leave the station immediately, everyone had to assume the danger was real. The result was often the same crowded staircases, delayed trains, nervous commuters, and a city briefly reminded of how vulnerable underground transit can be. By the end of the decade, emergency responses had become more standardized. Transit officials worked closely with police, suspicious packages were taken more seriously, and evacuation procedures became increasingly routine. The goal wasn't just to stop a bomb, it was to prevent panic while thousands of people were packed into tunnels and stations beneath the city. To someone hearing the announcement over a loudspeaker, there is no difference between a real bomb and a false alarm. Until police determine otherwise, every threat has to be treated as though it could become another tragedy. In April of 1999, an anonymous call led Montreal police to a note claiming bombs had been placed at more than twenty locations throughout the city. Hundreds of officers were mobilized in a massive search. Five explosive devices were eventually located, although police said they lacked detonators and posed little immediate danger. The incident demonstrated how a single anonymous warning could consume enormous police resources and trigger widespread concern. September eleventh, 2001. But everything changed. On the morning of September 11, 2001, Montreal's Metro was operating normally. No bombs exploded, no trains derailed, no stations evacuated. Yet by the end of the day, everything had changed. Now I'm sure everyone has heard about the events that took place on September 11, 2001. If not, then go do a quick Google search and come back. Before the event that was 9-11, transit agencies were only looking at things like accidents, fires, mechanical failures, and crime or vandalism. But after they realized that they had they needed to watch out for bigger things like terrorism, chemical attacks, biological attacks, and coordinated attacks on infrastructure. In the weeks and months following 9-11, security was starting to lock it down. Transit authorities across North America reviewed emergency plans, increased cooperation with police, and placed greater emphasis on reporting suspicious packages, unattended bags, and unusual behaviors. The idea that terrorism was something that happened somewhere else no longer felt as certain as it once had. For Montreal commuters, the changes didn't all happen at once. There were no airport-style security checkpoints at metrol entrances, but there was a growing awareness that public transit could be a target. Announcements reminding passengers to report suspicious objects became more common. Emergency response plans were updated and regularly practiced. Police and transit officials increasingly adopted the philosophy that it was better to investigate a hundred false alarms than fail to respond to one threat. The FLQ taught Montreal that political violence was possible. The 1984 Central Station bombing proved transportation hubs could be attacked. But September 11, 2001 changed something different. It changed how authorities thought. From then on, transit agencies didn't just prepare for accidents, they prepared for intentional attacks. The impact of 9 11 wasn't measured by the number of evacuations that day in Montreal. It was measured by the thousands that would occur afterward. In the years that followed, suspicious packages, smoke incidents, electrical fires, and security scares would repeatedly bring parts of the metro to a halt. Not because an attack had occurred, but because no one was willing to take that chance anymore. By the 2010s, terrorism wasn't the only thing capable of emptying a metro station. One of the most common causes of evacuations was something much more ordinary. Smoke. In an underground system, even a small amount of smoke can force emergency crews to shut down stations and move thousands of passengers. Metro incident records maintained by Montreal categorize fire smokes odor as a recurring type of operational emergency. One of the most dramatic examples occurred on April 3, 2014. During the evening rush evening rush hour, smoke began spreading through parts of the metro network after a malfunction involving the braking system on a train. What began as a mechanical problem quickly escalated into a system-wide emergency response. Firefighters were dispatched, service was disrupted, and multiple stations were evacuated as a precaution. Authorities later confirmed that the incident was not the result of any deliberate act, but at the time nobody knew what was causing the smoke. The incident had a particularly large impact because it affected Lionel Jul? I don't know. Station. Um, one of the most important transfer points in the metro system. Located at the junction of the green and orange lines, Lionel acts as a crossroads for thousands of passengers every day. A problem there doesn't stay there for long. As emergency crews investigated, stations including Lionel, um Charlevu, La Salle Oh my goodness. Hold on, bear with me de Egail Verden Jolicure Place d'Arts Peel Guy Concordia and Michel were evacuated or affected by the disruption. I probably butchered that so bad. I apologize. Um The event demonstrated exactly why smoke underground is taken so seriously. Passengers couldn't immediately tell whether they were dealing with a minor mechanical failure, an electrical fire, or something much worse. Smoke can travel through tunnels, reduce visibility, and create panic long before anyone understands its source. For many commuters, the experience was similar to a bomb scare. Trains stopped, stations emptied, emergency vehicles arrived, and uncertainty spread through the system. In the end, nobody was trying to attack the metro, but the Lionel incident showed that the same emergency procedures developed over decades of bomb threats and security concerns were just as necessary when the threat came from the system itself. By 2019, Montreal's metro had spent decades preparing for emergencies beneath the city. Most of the time, those preparations were never needed, but on the morning of August 21st, 2019, a report of smoke at Barry UQAM station would quickly turn into one of the largest metro disruptions in years. Barry UQAM isn't just another station, it is the heart of the entire metro network connecting the green, orange, and yellow lines and serving tens of thousands of passengers every day. When something goes wrong there, the effects ripple across the entire station. Emergency crews were dispatched after smoke was detected inside the station. Almost immediately, service was suspended on a large section on large sections of the metro while firefighters and STM personnel investigated the source. Multiple stations were evacuated as a precaution, including Barry UQAM, Bonaventure, Square Victoria, Champs. De Mars, Papinu Vieux, Jean Drapeau, Long Longuille, and others. Commuters suddenly found themselves leaving trains, walking through stations and searching for alternate transportation across the city. What made the incident so disruptive was not necessarily the amount of smoke itself, but its location. Because the emergency occurred at the busiest transfer station in the network, the shutdown affected portions of three different metro lines simultaneously. Once again, Montreal was reminded that underground emergencies can spread far beyond the place where they began. By the 2020s, smoke wasn't the only thing capable of triggering a metro evacuation. Decades after the FLQ bombings and nearly 40 years after the Central Station bombing, suspicious packages still had the power to bring parts of the transit system to a halt. In 2022, a suspicious package at Atwater Station prompted a major response from police and transit authorities. As officers investigated, access to parts of the station was restricted and passengers were forced to alter their routes. The package ultimately proved not to be a serious threat, but that almost doesn't matter when you're standing on a crowded platform waiting for answers. What is interesting about incidents like this is how they demonstrate the lasting impact of Montreal's history. Authorities don't get the luxury of assuming a package is harmless. Every unattended package or bag has to be treated as though it could be dangerous until proven otherwise. The procedures developed during decades of bomb threats, terrorism fears, and security scares remain in place because the consequences of being wrong are simply too high. For commuters, it's a reminder that the fear created by past attacks never completely disappears. Even when a suspicious package turns out to be nothing, thousands of people may still experience delays, evacuations, and uncertainty before the all clear is given. For decades, Montreal's Metro has been forced to confront every kind of emergency imaginable. Political violence during the FLQ era, the deadly bombing at Central Station, anonymous threats, suspicious packages, smoke-filled tunnels, electrical failures, and incidents that began with nothing more than someone stepping onto the tracks. The crash lesson isn't that Montreal's metro is dangerous. In fact, millions of people use it safely every year. The lesson is that underground systems are uniquely vulnerable because uncertainty spreads faster than information. When a passenger sees smoke on a platform, they don't know if it's a small mechanical problem or a major fire. When police find an unattended backpack, they don't know if it's forgotten luggage or something far worse. And when thousands of people are packed into tunnels beneath the city, waiting for certainty is a luxury emergency responders don't have. That's why stations get evacuated. That's why trains stop running. That's why bomb squads, firefighters, paramedics, and police are often dispatched before anyone knows exactly what's happening. Two commuters, these responses can sometimes seem like an overreaction, but every procedure written Oh, sorry one second. I thought I always get so dragged by the end of this. Ah Two commuters, these responses can often seem like an overreaction, but every procedure written today is based on lessons learned from incidents that came before. The Montreal Metro spent decades adapting to those lessons. Some were learned from tragedy, others from close calls and false alarms. Together, they shaped a transit system built on a simple principle. When the stakes are high, it's better to disrupt a commute than risk a catastrophe. I butchered that last slide. Let me try this again. Together, they shaped a transit system built on a simple principle. When the stakes are high, it's better to disrupt a commute than risk a catastrophe. Thanks for listening to Crash Lessons. I'm Robin, and I will see you guys next time. Alright, peace out, let's go.