This first-person article is the experience of Dave Cheke, who lives in Calgary. For more information on CBC’s first-person stories, please see the FAQ.
I was a hostage – taken by strangers on a high-speed chase in my Chevrolet Corvette and held at gunpoint for 11 hours at a truck stop.
I still remember clearly the moment when the end finally came.
I stood up, tucked in my shirt to feel professional, and left the room just before the police negotiator and the last shooter. I could feel the silence. Even the traffic was so quiet that I could hear the click of the firearms’ fuses going off when the tactical team moved.
It’s been 40 years since that crisis and yet it stays with me – especially that last moment. It keeps coming back.
The hostage situation began at 8:30 a.m. on May 18, 1982. There was a knock on the front door of the Safeway in Saskatoon, where I was a 24-year-old assistant manager. Two well-dressed men said it was a hold-up.
I remember thinking, just do what they say so no one gets hurt.
But after the gunmen took the money, one of them demanded vehicle keys.
I gave them the keys to my Corvette and then I was forced into the front seat—perched on the center console—and we drove down the main road.
Dave Cheke, right, in 1982. He owned a black Corvette, left, and took a hostage in it. (Submitted by Dave Cheke)
The police chase us almost instantly, lights flashing. The sound of gunfire came from inside my car—shots coming right next to me, shell casings hitting my face. The noise was so loud it seemed unreal.
The pursuit continued until the driver lost control and crashed the car into the curb. They pulled me out of the car with guns pointed at me, loud voices and tension like I’ve never felt before.
What followed was a blur, but it felt like a TV drama. The shooter took over a police car, the chase continued, and suddenly I saw a Husky House Service Station restaurant. We hit a wall and I was pulled out again and forced into the restaurant. Patrons were running around us.
But in this chaos, two police officers followed us into the restaurant. They called the shooter by name and said we needed to sit down and talk it out.
Clipping from the Saskatoon Star Phoenix, May 19, 1982, detailing the incident where Dave Cheke was taken hostage. (Star Phoenix)
The gunmen took a second hostage – an American woman who had been using the toilet – and now we had tension of a different kind. Negotiations have begun between the shooter and a detective. I was so impressed with how calm the detective was – almost like he was just having a conversation, nothing stressful or aggravating. They talked for hours and it turned out that the leader James had escaped from prison.
The woman was eventually released in exchange for James receiving the sedatives he requested. Half an hour later he put his gun down on the table. Then, eight hours into the negotiations, the second shooter left and James’ girlfriend came over to see if she could help.
Finally, an opportunity presented itself where the negotiator and I could just go off on our own. But he looked at me and said, “The longer this goes on, the better the results.” By this point I was fine with it.
Then James got up and handed the gun to the detective. And we went out.
But such an event changes you. First, it opened my eyes to the powerful love of family and friends.
Dave Cheke supports his granddaughters with his bike. He says the aging process scares him. (Submitted by Dave Cheke)
They drove me to my mother’s house, where my younger brother ran to hug me and wouldn’t let me go. My mother was at the kitchen table, surrounded by friends who had been by her side all day, and I learned that my other brother had spent the entire time watching the restaurant from a hotel across the street.
I received phone calls from friends across Canada—support that helped me process the experience in the days and weeks afterward.
It also deepened my faith. I felt safe in the arms of someone bigger than me, God, who got me through that stressful day and every day after.
And that moment—the memory of the calm after the storm—that moment comes back to me even more now as I face new stresses in life. Frankly, the aging process scares me—maybe even more than the shooters did back in the day.
I’m 64 now. I’ve never been that old. I look in the mirror and my hair has never been so gray. My body is changing and my career is coming to an end. It’s causing stress like I never expected. But I will survive this too because I got through that horrific hostage situation and I can appreciate the days ahead.
Telling his story
As part of our ongoing partnership with the Calgary Public Library, CBC Calgary hosts in-person writing workshops to support community members in telling their own stories.
This workshop was organized by Unison at the Kerby Centre.
To join a workshop, suggest a topic or volunteer with a community organization to help, email CBC producer Elise Stolte or visit cbc.ca/tellingyourstory.
Add Comment