The Condo That Became an Oven

The cost of the 2021 western North America heat wave and the fires it kindled was measured in records broken, lives lost and homes destroyed. Behind those numbers were millions of ordinary people forced to confront extraordinary times, as our world has become warmer.

Five years later, The Tyee is presenting stories of five of those B.C. survivors as told in their own words. Their testimonies were created with the Climate Disaster Project at the University of Victoria. — Sean Holman of the Climate Disaster Project

‘Living in a greenhouse’

Anna Geeroms traded the lake for the ocean when she moved from Nelson to Vancouver after her mother started attending Emily Carr University — and she never left. She became part of its civic life, helping to start the local political party Vision Vancouver. Then she moved into consulting and open-source software design for non-profits. On top of that work, Anna is also a single mother to 14-year-old autistic twins, Azalea and Ryan, and a stepmother to 23-year-old Zoe. She spent years advocating for school support for the twins, especially her son, whose needs were repeatedly unmet by the public school system. It is those needs that also made them vulnerable to the extreme temperatures of the 2021 western North America heat wave.

This is Anna’s story as told to Maraya Cooper and Aryan Sethi.

I bought my condo in 2020 and I was the last person to see it. They had just shut down in-person showings. When I went, it was infested with 40 moths. Because people would be disturbed by something like that, I was like, “This is a good sign.” I put in a low offer and it got accepted. It was the only affordable place that could accommodate my family in Vancouver.

We moved out of an old house. It was on a trucking route. When the trucks would go by, the windows would rattle. The condo was on the fourth floor, off the main street. We had skylights. It had a bank of southwest-facing windows that seemed nice.

My whole life, I’ve prized living in places that have good light. Growing up, we would go to beaches in the Kootenays and float around on the lake. I just love that feel of the warm sun on the skin. I never got a sunburn until I turned 12. The condo had a lot of light and a huge patio. I filled it with beautiful flowers. I thought we lived happily ever after.

But it turned out that in the summer the sun incinerated everything on the patio. Everything went from lush and beautiful in May to completely roasted. You could cook an egg on the patio. It was like living in a greenhouse because there was so much glass. I was afraid the house would catch on fire — like when you were young, you have a magnifying glass to burn leaves. On a 30 C day, the apartment would get to 40 C. Almost right away, I remember thinking, “Oh, what have I done?” We started with one air conditioner. Then, the same summer, another. The next year, we bought three more. They were in every window.

I have this candelabra from my grandma. We had gone away for the weekend and came back finding my seven white candles all fallen over. It reminds me of somebody’s Etsy project. My chocolate chips melted into a solid block. How can my brain function if chocolate is melting? I had coconut oil in the cupboard and it was all melty on the outside. It slipped out of my hand and I spilled hot coconut oil all over the place.

You Google, “What you could do to mitigate heat?” I tried different methods to block the skylights: pink insulation with cardboard underneath, Styrofoam insulation, one year I tried just fabric. I asked the strata, “Could I put skylight covers on the outside?” They said no because you’re not supposed to fasten anything to the building. They didn’t believe that it was as hot as I said it was. So I put this thermometer in the corner of the patio. It read 46 C. It read 30 C inside when I have all the air conditioners running. I would take pictures and send it to the strata manager. She still didn’t believe me.

At one point, I installed reflective window film. With the double-paned windows, the reflective surface ends up just bouncing it around inside the windows. I ended up ripping the film down. Then I went through the blackout curtains phase. Then there was the patio blocking phase: I had a sail, like a sunshade. But I got told by strata to take it down. It’s basically, try one thing and if it doesn’t work, try something else.

During the 2021 heat wave, it became intolerably hot. We all camped out in one tiny room because we couldn’t get the rest of the house cool enough to survive. I would go to the kitchen and get food. Then I would run back and get in as fast as possible so that I wouldn’t let the cold air out.

The kitchen was dishes stacked up high everywhere. I could not stand to do any housework in the heat. We had fruit flies, silverfish and mice. I would find where mice were getting in and seal it. Then they would be back. The kids got lice. It’s so many hours spent picking through hair and itching yourself because you think, “Oh my God, it’s on me.” I thought of the end times, how the locusts come and the world turns into a desert.

If there’s another heat wave, you should check on all the moms with autistic kids. We're not OK, I guarantee you. Everybody in our family takes medication that makes them more susceptible to heat exhaustion. My children were dysregulated and melting down. I’d be in a Zoom meeting, presenting to the executives. My kids would be shouting at each other in the other room. What if I get fired for this? I have a mortgage. As a single parent it was a lot of pressure.

I got wheezy lungs from the smoke coming through the air conditioner. I feel like I can’t get a deep breath. It’s like that edge of hysteria where you can't regulate and you feel sheer panic. All of a sudden, my eyelids were itching, then red, then oozing, and then crusty. I Google “eczema” and “forest fire” and, sure enough, the smoke is like chemicals when houses are burning down. That causes eczema on your eyes. Seven creams in, I wasn’t closer to finding an answer. I went to the doctor and got hydrocortisone. It didn’t work. The mosquito bite I got swelled up like a baseball on my leg. The doctor gave me another cortisone cream. One day I was like, “I wonder if I just put a little bit on my eyelids.” Sure enough, 24 hours later, no eczema.

Around that time, I made nettle pesto. It made my tongue tingle. Then my lips. Then I started feeling like my throat was closing. I was clearing my throat and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was driving and all of a sudden I couldn’t see out of the sides of my eyes, like tunnel vision. I tried to look in the mirror and I couldn’t see. I thought, “Oh, you’re having a panic attack.” I took myself to the doctor. I had the beginnings of anaphylaxis. They say it was from stress, heat and trying new foods in the same time frame. I have an EpiPen now.

I paid so much money on hydro bills for all the air conditioners, I was watching my bank account get destroyed. I’ve had to reduce my work hours because of school advocacy for my children. Then the interest rate went up by $700 when I renewed.

I had done all sorts of things like call your internet provider and see if you can get the bill knocked down, and downgrading in the grocery store. I went through a series of roommates to survive financially. At one point we moved my son into the dining room and created an artificial wall with a bunk bed. My daughter didn’t want her friends to come over for a play date. I just knew I'm going to have to leave. I was a refugee from heat.

I’m fortunate I’ve managed to angle myself into this moderate-income, long-term rental, but it doesn't really feel over. There shouldn’t be the ability for stratas to block heat pumps. Landlords should also have to mitigate. There should be a right to safe temperature. So many people died from the heat. There’s more of that to come. I’m hanging on to four of the five air conditioners. I can't let them go until I know for sure that we're safe in the summer. Somehow climate change is taking a back seat for people as they think about not being able to buy a TV because they aren’t getting a raise.

I always thought hell was a cold place. I remember growing up thinking, "When I get older, I'm going to go live in the desert," because I loved the heat. I was like a sun worshipper. When things started to get back to normal, I welcomed the rain in a way that I never thought I would. It was heavenly to open the window and have fresh coastal air, a bit of salt, flowers, that smell when rain first hits the sidewalk. It's so weird how something that you thought was great becomes hell when you have too much of it.

This testimony was co-created by the Climate Disaster Project, a newsroom co-ordinated at the University of Victoria that works with climate-impacted communities to document and investigate their stories. Subscribe to the project’s newsletter here.