I grew up in small-town Saskatchewan in a community much like Pincher Creek. Giving directions often centred on local landmarks and many descriptions led us to the same place. If you got lost along the way, there was always someone to help you out.

We lived on First Street West, but might direct someone by telling them it was the old Koffski house with the giant trees in front, down the street from Kitely Park.

If we knew they were coming from a different direction, the description might include Busy Bee Daycare instead.

Rural directions were similar and I don’t recall much for signage in my early driving years.

To visit my friend Kim, I turned left just after Relland Sales (an abandoned auto shop), then left again two roads past the Moose Plains Hall. I knew I was heading out of Nipawin toward Carrot River, but Highway 55 was never a reference in our directions.

Somehow, we always found our way, whether in town or in the countryside.

Moving to Alberta as an adult, I learned about range and township roads, and appreciated the clear signage.

The biggest change was moving to an acreage and remembering two addresses — the gate and road numbers, and the legal land description. For days with bad recall, I could pull the information up from my phone memos or look at the marked map on the fridge.

My late husband Jim and I lived on Range Road 1-3. The sign had a dash and people said it with the dash — one dash three.

Several times during Jim’s illness I found myself frantically calling for an ambulance.

During a stressful time, the last thing anyone wants is to argue with a dispatcher about your address, but that’s exactly what happened more than once.

The first dispatcher made me doubt myself, so I ran to the kitchen to be sure. There it was marked on the fridge map — Range Road one DASH three. Still, he insisted my call was coming from Range Road 13.

I stressed that both the highway and gate signs contained dashes. I told him to please send the ambulance east from Pincher Creek on Highway 507 and gave landmarks for good measure.

I was terrified the ambulance would end up in the wrong place and the address discrepancy added a layer of fear to what was already a scary situation.

After two similar incidents, I chatted with Emergency Services Chief Pat Neumann, sharing both my concern and frustration. This is how I learned about the differences in road numbering here compared with other municipalities.

I no longer argued when the dispatcher said 13 back if I said the dash and, thankfully, the ambulance always arrived.

If you haven’t yet read “Drop the dash: Rural address format matters for faster 911 response,” please do.

Drop the dash. It’s simple, but can be a hard habit to break.

This is important for rural residents, but also for town folks. You could be visiting a friend’s ranch or camping in the backcountry and need to make an emergency call.

In a situation where seconds can matter, getting the address right is critical.

Resist the urge to give local landmarks that can confuse dispatchers, and trust our emergency services teams to get to you as quickly as they can.