Orillia's Jeff Monague, an elder and knowledge keeper for the Indigenous community, has written a short story loosely based on the experiences of his father who was a Korean War veteran and eventually became one of the first First Nation constables in Canada under the RCMP's Special Constable Program. Today is the final segment of the five-part series.
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The three RCMP cruisers pulled up and stopped on the gravel road from an area where the pathways and the covered body of the first youth victim were visible. I could see six RCMP officers exit their vehicles.
The contingent was comprised of five fresh-faced young officers and one older and heavier sergeant. All were white men.
The older man was Sergeant Cooper and I'd only seen him three times in the four years of my service here at the Reserve. He was the RCMP's liaison officer to our community.
Gordy and I were walking casually along approximately 150 metres away from the officers by the time they had exited their vehicles. I could clearly see the first fresh-faced recruit reach for his holster as he sprinted forward while yelling, "One of them has a gun!"
I raised my arms in the air to wave them off and before I could say 'No don't shoot!', all six RCMP had raised their pistols and began shooting at the one of us who had a gun.
Gordy had just gotten his rifle unslung in a last ditch attempt at self-defence when the first bullet tore into his chest and he stood arms outstretched for a moment as others tore into his body. Then he slumped to the ground.
A later investigation would determine that 24 bullets had been fired from six RCMP pistols. Six of those bullets found their mark and Gordy lay on the ground when finally Sergeant Cooper had given the order to cease fire.
I dropped to the ground and cradled Gordy's head into my lap. I knew then that there was nothing I could do for him. He looked pleadingly into my eyes and the last thing he heard before slipping away was me telling him that I was sure that Simon had already forgiven him.
Then it happened. I began to cry. I never cry. I thought that if I ever cried I would never stop but right there with Gordy's dead body in my lap; I cried.
I cried for the two young men from my platoon in Vietnam that died even though I gave all of my best effort to save their lives. They had been my best friends, my brothers, and they, like Gordy died in my lap.
I cried because there was nothing I could have done for them. I cried for the men that my community lost this night and how it would change us. I cried deep heavy sobs with tears that would have to flow for years in order to wash away a lifetime of trauma and hurt never mind what I had been through that night.
Sergeant Cooper had been screaming for me to raise my arms up over my head. I wouldn't do it. Finally he screamed "Who the hell are you?"
With what felt like a raging torrent of tears streaming down my face I screamed, "I'm the Special Constable!" with a force that only years of neglect can give you.
Then there was a pause and a moment of recognition from him before he yelled, "Where the hell is your weapon Constable?"
I sobbed deeply, disbelieving the question and then cried out, "You never gave me one!"
That was a few years ago. The inquest into those deaths lasted the better part of three years. We now have four men on the Sault Harbour Reserve Police force and it's fully funded by the RCMP. I have my own police cruiser, a bigger flashlight, and a gun, which I've never had to use.
Sergeant Cooper was demoted and disappeared somewhere. The first rookie, who had fired the bullet into Gordy's chest, was charged with manslaughter. He somehow beat the charge and was relegated to a desk job. Or, so I hear. The others were given desk jobs too and I hear three have left the force.
As for me, I still have my days. I will never be fully free of my traumas but at least now they have their place in my life and they won't control me any longer.
I often think of old Simon and occasionally I visit his grave. I received a commendation in Ottawa and it was awarded me by the Prime Minister of Canada but overall the best thing that has happened is that I received psychiatric counselling courtesy of the RCMP.
I still feel guilty that three lives were lost in order for me to get mine back, but I'm comforted in the thought that somewhere out there among the stars I know that Simon and Gordy are free, too.
