In the late hours of November 10, 1979...
A quiet Saturday night in Mississauga was shattered when a Canadian Pacific Railway freight train lost control near Burnhamthorpe Road. The thirty-third car had overheated, its bearings failed, and soon the rail bed erupted. Tanks ruptured, fire leapt 1,500 metres into the sky, and thick orange-yellow flames were visible for tens of kilometres.
Residents were awakened by the concussion of explosions. Windows shattered, alarms blared. Within hours, approximately 200,000 people were ordered to evacuate — the largest peacetime mass exodus in Canada’s history up to that point. Families hastily gathered what they could, children in pyjamas, pets in crates, and fled the city.
Firefighters battled not only the flames but also their own compromised infrastructure: the power went out at the city garage which refueled fire trucks, forcing them to seek aid in neighbouring municipalities. In the clear light of dawn the next morning, the wreckage told the story: twisted rail, charred tank cars, a city awake and changed.
In the aftermath, no deaths were reported — a fact often described as the “Mississauga Miracle.” Yet the city would never be quite the same. Rail companies introduced stricter safety protocols for hazardous materials, and municipalities across Canada took note: evacuation planning, emergency alerts and community education all became new standard fare. Schools ran drills. Local governments mapped rail-hazard zones. Mississauga carried the scar — and the lesson — forward.
Today, when you ride the rail corridors through the city or glance at the crests of older neighborhoods, you might remember that rare night: the one when fire raged and a city held its collective breath — then moved on.
