On First Anniversary of Freedom Convoy, Protesters Tell Their Stories

A protester holds a sign on Wellington St. during the Freedom Convoy protest in Ottawa on Feb. 12, 2022. Noé Chartier/The Epoch Times

This weekend will be the first anniversary of the Freedom Convoy protest in Ottawa against COVID-19 vaccine mandates and restrictions, an event that lasted about a month and ended with the controversial invocation of the Emergencies Act.

When the first trucks of the convoy rolled out of Prince Rupert on Jan. 22 last year, and from Vancouver and other cities in the following days, they began a cross-country trek none of the organizers expected would largely rally a country and inspire similar movements around the world.

With the first trucks arriving in Ottawa on Friday, Jan. 28, and hundreds more the next day, the protest against government-imposed mandates officially began. It marked a significant event in the lives of thousands of participants, and indeed millions of Canadians.

People gather in Parliament Hill as the trucker convoy protesting COVID-19 mandates and restrictions stages demonstrations in Ottawa on Jan. 29, 2022. Jonathan Ren/The Epoch Times

Children participate in the Freedom Convoy protest against COVID-19 mandates and restrictions in Ottawa on Feb. 9, 2022. Jonathan Ren/The Epoch Times

Mitchell Olson

Mitchell Olson left his home in Chilliwack, B.C., to go to Ottawa during the third week of the protests. Like everyone else, he enjoyed the camaraderie, love, and patriotism that flowed from the daily rallies. Even the Ottawa police were friendly and encouraging, appreciative of the way protesters conducted themselves, Olson said in an interview.

“I just felt like it was what I had to do as a citizen,” he said. “It’s almost like we were fighting a war. … I felt that this was the most important thing in my life at that point—to be there for Canada and everybody else around the world.”

Mitchell Olson is arrested by police in Ottawa on Feb. 19, 2022. Courtesy Mitchell Olson

But when police came in to end the protest after the Emergencies Act was invoked, Olson said he saw actions he didn’t think Canadian law enforcement would ever take in confronting the protesters.

Olson, who witnessed demonstrators get trampled on by mounted police on Feb. 18, 2022, said police later grabbed protesters, filed them into paddy wagons, and dropped them off a 30-minute drive from Ottawa, leaving them to find their own way back in the freezing weather. He was also arrested on Feb. 19.

A bonus for Olson was that he met the love of his life, now his fiancé, among the thousands of people in Ottawa during those fateful days.

“I believe [the protest] did make a difference, though I still think there’s a big fight ahead of us,” he said.

“It was the most patriotic thing I’ve ever experienced, and I think it really showed that there is an army willing to fight for freedom. And it gave people hope and what they need to keep going, but I think it’s far from over.”

Dana Metcalfe

Newfoundland didn’t have an organized effort to bring truckers to Ottawa, so St. John’s-based stylist and photographer Dana Metcalfe stepped up to help rally a handful of truckers to go. She joined them when they left on Jan. 25, only planning to spend four days there before heading home. But as the line of trucks continued to grow “like a giant centipede” the further they travelled, and with every overpass jammed with people cheering them on, she said she sensed she might be a part of something that was going to last longer than she expected.

Contacted by one of the Freedom Convoy organizers with the group Canada Unity, Metcalfe took a taxi across Ottawa to begin her new role of coordinating all the trucks and their drivers, setting up a network to communicate with them and provide them with supplies.

Dana Metcalfe with the unofficial Newfoundland and Labrador tricolour flag in her home province before leaving for Ottawa in January 2022. Courtesy Dana Metcalfe

“When we got there, there was nothing, absolutely nothing,” Metcalfe told The Epoch Times. “We had to get maps, paper, pens, and set up an operations room. Then I’m starting to figure out where the trucks were. We were trying to collect information from the drivers because nobody was registered. There wasn’t one mainstream email list or phone roster, so that was the first task at hand, trying to figure out who was who and where everybody was.”

As her role grew, she helped ensure emergency lanes were open, helped establish a network to address parking problems for locals and deal with other complaints, and controlled the social media content. She also created Operation Hug a Trucker, to provide food, fuel, and hugs to the truckers and their families from Canadians who wanted to add their support.

“We were looking under vehicles to make sure there weren’t any planted weapons. We made sure the kids were fine. And we were knocking on [truck] doors to make sure everybody was safe, warm, and comfortable,” Metcalfe said.

The first time she went in front of a camera, she said, she addressed the police and asked for patience and compassion while reassuring the city’s residents that this was a peaceful movement.

However, as snipers were seen on rooftops and rumours of high-tech weaponry being used began to circulate, as well as a warning from a special police negotiator about pending arrests, Metcalfe and the leadership teams knew they had to prepare to move out. But before that could happen, the Emergencies Act was invoked and a massive police operation was launched to end the protest.

“It was a show of force, because if we had left on our own, it would be an incentive for people to do it again,” Metcalfe said. “So they brought in those police officers knowing that we were no threat, but to send a message to Canadians: ‘Don’t do this.’ And it was unnecessary.”

David Rakowski

David Rakowski managed to arrive in Ottawa from Surrey, B.C., just in time to be part of the breakup of the protest, his second in less than a week.

Five days earlier, on Feb. 14, Rakowski was one of about 50 people at the South Surrey border closure when police came in the evening to end that protest. As police arrested people while pushing the group back two blocks toward camp headquarters, Rakowski walked the lines talking to them, which he assessed as the most “interesting moment in my life.”

He told The Epoch Times that most officers just rationalized what they were doing and blamed the protesters for holding up international trade (although the border had been closed by Surrey RCMP). But he made a unique connection with one particular officer.

Protesters demonstrate against COVID-19 mandates and restrictions in Ottawa on Feb. 9, 2022. Jonathan Ren/The Epoch Times

A trucker talks to protesters in Ottawa on Feb. 12, 2022. Noé Chartier/The Epoch Times

Trucks are parked on Wellington Street near the Parliament Buildings as truckers and supporters protest against COVID-19 mandates in Ottawa on Jan. 29, 2022. Patrick Doyle/Reuters

“I noticed he had a Slavic surname on his badge and I just asked him about that,” Rakowski said. “I said, ‘Listen, I speak Polish and Russian and I can tell you’re probably Ukrainian. You know what’s going on and your family has probably been through this.

“And within a few minutes, he had tears going down his face as he was advancing with the rest of the police line. I could see on his face the torment he was going through by being there with those police officers.”

The experience compelled him and two of his friends to head to Ottawa, he said. They arrived just in time to join their countrymen tasting pepper spray and tear gas, and to see democracy get crushed, as he described it.

“Jordan Peterson wrote a beautiful piece about how every single white-collar profession has been harrowed into submission where everyone’s afraid to speak out,” Rakowski said.

“But who stood up for Canadians’ rights and for our country? It was the blue-collar truckers. … It was the truckers who took matters into their own hands in sacrifice. If we lived in an honest country, … there would be monuments to those people. But instead, we have forgotten one of the greatest and most authentic uprisings in Canadian history.”

Jesse Johnson

While Ottawa was gaining the majority of the headlines, a tense standoff was happening in Coutts, Alberta. Truckers had blocked the border crossing into the United States and were soon joined by farmers and other supporters. One was Jesse Johnson.

Johnson was a successful Calgary entrepreneur who helped revitalize the city’s Inglewood district over the past 22 years. But when Alberta Health Services told him that although he and his staff didn’t need a COVID-19 vaccine to operate, he had to turn away customers who made the same choice as him, he couldn’t comply. So his business was shut down.

Calgary-based entrepreneur Jesse Johnson. Courtesy Jesse Johnson

Originally, supporters were showing up outside his Without Papers Pizza restaurant while he was still open. When he joined them after his business was closed, the weekly rallies outgrew the sidewalks in front. And when the Coutts blockade occurred, Johnson moved his newfound activism from his restaurant to supporting the truckers.

“It was the most incredible experience of my life,” he told The Epoch Times. “You know, it was the first time that I had hope after being destroyed and seeing everything that happened. And in my mind, we were at war. People were attacking me, and I felt that I had to do what I could to defeat the old narrative.”

Posting daily updates on his Instagram, Johnson saw the growing police presence, particularly in Milk River two kilometres north of Coutts. The protesters were always on edge, he said, waiting for law enforcement to be given clearance to respond.

One time, police chased him from Milk River to Coutts where he drove into a ditch and escaped into the crowds of supporters. Another time, he was part of a human chain of truck drivers and farmers on Highway 4, with “a wall of cops” both in front of them and behind, waiting for batons, cuffs, K-9s, bullets, or possibly all four. Eventually, the police stood down.

“These protests happened here organically. They were not orchestrated by me or organized by me, but this is where they were taking place,” Johnson said.

“With me were a bunch of [angry] truckers and farmers who decided to help some people who were holding a border to demand that the government allow us to be equal citizens again.”

Protesters leave in a truck convoy at the U.S. border crossing after demonstrating against COVID-19 mandates for over two weeks, in Coutts, Alberta, on Feb. 15, 2022. Jeff McIntosh/The Canadian Press

A truck convoy of anti-COVID-19 vaccine mandate demonstrators block the highway at the busy U.S. border crossing in Coutts, Alta., on Feb. 2, 2022. The Canadian Press/Jeff McIntosh

Despite the loss of his business, he says his efforts made a difference.

“The reality is that if it hadn’t been for me, every single restaurant in that neighbourhood would still be asking for a QR code to get a cheeseburger today. We realized that we aren’t going to comply our way out of tyranny, and it doesn’t matter if that man was vaccinated or not—he was still a Canadian, he was entitled to the same rights that every Canadian was whether you were jabbed or not.”