Dead Man Walking 1
The prosecutor leaned over to me as the witness left the courtroom, surrounded by a phalanx of police detectives, each of them with their hands on weapons under their jackets, “Dead man walking.” he whispered as the witness passed. I was a defence lawyer in one of the most dangerous and intense trials of my entire career. My client, Roch ‘Rock’ Pelletier, a French Canadian was charged with first degree murder and attempted murder.
I Never Promised You a Rose Garden
BANG! I fired the gun and a phosphorus bullet put on an incredible display, the bright purple ricocheting off tree trunks like some sort of pinball light show. I caught a glimpse of the bear on his haunches, no doubt wondering, ‘What the hell is this manner of naked nonsense’ or some such thing. Whatever the beast actually thought, he decided this was all a little weird for his liking and took off into the deep forest.
Do Bares Pee in the Woods?
With a humble nod to Stuart McLean, one of Canada’s greatest story tellers and humourists.
Let me pick up where I left off hurtling face down, mimicking some form of a lumpy human torpedo, headed directly toward a gnarly thicket of old bramble bushes, which upon seeing me approach opened a tunnel and consumed me. I literally disappeared into a giant prickly maw, something like the insatiable blood drinking plants in the Little Shop of Horrors.
Vernon Prep School for Boys
And then there was Dorden, my very own Darth Vader. Dorden was sixteen, a fully grown version of a malevolent juvenile delinquent, a young boy who had fought life with a focused rage, sent away to Vernon Prep for Boys in the expectation that it would bring him to rein. And the worst of it, Dorden was in grade 7, with me! I had skipped two grades and Dorden had been held back three grades. What could possibly go wrong?!
Edith and Frankie More Adventures with a Capital A
I’ve just published my second children’s book. It’s a reading book for 7 – 12 year olds and it’s called, ‘Edith and Frankie More Adventures with a Capital A’. You can find it on Amazon or any book platform worldwide.
“All three puppies stopped in their tracks, each one of them not wanting to think the worst. “They’re in trouble. Maybe Toby and Anya and Freddy have been trapped by the forest fire. We need to go and find them. We need to save them.” Frankie didn’t know what ‘save them’ meant but she thought it was spelled with an ‘S’ which meant that it was very close to being scary. “I’m just a puppy.” said Frankie, not wanting to sound Scared with a Capital S, “I don’t know how to save anyone.”
Oh, Canada What Lays Ahead
If this fractious, angry, violent Canada is the one you envision for yourself and your children, keep doing what it is you’re doing. But if this is not the Canada you envision, then stand up and be heard for goodness sake. Stand up at home, stand up at school, stand up at school board meetings, at council, at protests, stand up and be heard. Stand up for your country. Stand up for yourself.
Just Another Manic Monday
The long trial comes to the inevitable climax:”So you play by the sword, you die by the sword Mr. Gallagher and now it is my turn.” Beau finally had Gallagher pinned and he was not about to let him off the mat. All the tensions of the trial were released. The lack of respect, the punitive arguments, the personal insults, Beau had taken note of it all. “This jury is poisoned. You never took control of the publisher and you sure as hell never took control of his little Rottweiler, Peter Franklyn. You own this Gallagher.”
I Did It. I’m Guilty.
Beau didn’t have much time for Gallagher and he suspected Gallagher held him in the same regard. The forced civility between lawyers often breaks down in long criminal trials. When he thought it served his clients purposes Beau had often intentionally aggravated prosecutors; any energy he could divert his way was energy diverted from the case. He even remembered a fist fight in the barristers changing room between two lawyers, during a long drug trial in Victoria. Things could get heated.
A Wise Old Owl Walks into a Bar
“Growing old is not for the faint of heart Tony.” I’ll never forget the first time I heard my father saying it though. Turns out he was a wise old owl after all. Sure got my attention. What did I know, I was forty-four years old? Wet behind the ears! It felt like some old mariners warning about rough weather ahead. And what’s worse it appeared, if I was hearing my father correctly, no course correction was available. No matter what, this was going to happen.
The Trial of the Century
The Judge was visibly furious. “Don’t you presume to lecture me or this court. This Sir, is not the Trial of the Century. This is a first degree murder trial in Whitehorse, Yukon. It is no more and no less than that. It is in and of itself important and needs no media declaration to make it so. It will be made neither more or less important by calling it ‘The Trial of the Century’. This is a system of justice that has evolved over a thousand years and I will not see you or any reporter trivialize its importance with a fancy name.