I
have been invited to speak with you tonight about the struggles our
family faced following the abduction and murder of Kristen in 1992. In
telling the story of my family’s walk along this very foreign path, I
must note that, while I tell ‘our’ story, it can only be through my
experience of it. One of the truly important things I have learned on
this journey is that we all experience the events in our lives in a
unique way. Given that God has created us each to be unique and
special people, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, but in
many ways it has.
And
it really is a story about and because of Kristen French, so you need to
know a little about who she was to understand how we have all been
affected.
Kristen was the youngest child
in a ‘blended’ family of six siblings. I am the oldest and in
between us, there are four brothers. When I was 15 my parents divorced
and later both remarried. My father, Doug, and Donna, then had two
children: Darren and Kristen. My mother’s remarriage also added to the
family two more sons and a daughter-in-law. We have enough men in our
family, what with more marriages and sons, to start a small sports team.
But
don’t think Kristi and I were intimidated! Oh no! We girls could hold
our own – giving back as much teasing as we got and in fact both of us
were spoiled with all the love in the world. As the baby of the family,
Kristen could do no wrong. But her sunny personality, loving and playful
nature and an innate desire to please everyone made her extra special.
Kristen was all about love. Despite what is called a ‘broken home’,
love has always been the defining factor in our family. I believe it is
the single most important thing that held us all together throughout the
past ten years. That and our faith.
On
Maunday Thursday, April 1992, Kristen left school, telling her friends
how excited she was to be spending the long weekend with the whole
family. While Kristen started to walk home in the rain, I was picking up
my husband and children to begin the long drive to Southern Ontario to
spend Easter with our families. I had carefully packed the Easter eggs I
had made for Kristen and her friend Tara as thank you gifts. We had been
together in Florida on a holiday just one month before. We had never had
a holiday like that with our children before and I don’t know who was
more excited. Kristen and Tara had taken our two young children on all
the rides at Disneyland. Looking back, that week was a precious gift to
all of us.
We
arrived safely at our destination, but Kristen did not. By 6 pm, Donna
knew something was wrong and, after calling everyone else they could
think of, Dad and Donna called the police. Since we arrived much later,
things were already in motion to locate Kristen. A headquarters had been
set up at her school, officers were out looking, knocking on doors,
organizing their strategy. The police response was immediate,
compassionate and professional. The female officer who stayed at
the house was a wonderful woman who remained close to the family,
especially Donna, for many years. While the quick response probably had
something to do with a local history of several missing young women, I
believe it was also a genuine response to our family’s anguish.
Most
of the family: Dad, my brothers, husband and sister-in-law stayed at the
command centre at school. Donna and I stayed at the house so someone
would be home when Kristen called. With a mother’s instinct though, I
think Donna knew even then that something horrible had happened.
By
early Friday morning, Good Friday morning, the media had learned of
Kristen’s disappearance. One media outlet had set up camp across the
street and filmed people going in and out. That was the beginning of
media attention that continues to this day. As Priscilla Devilliers,
whose own daughter was murdered before Kristen, says, “Victims lose
their privacy after a crime is committed.” We were again blessed
however, because we had a resident expect to advise us how to deal with
the media. My husband Bill has been a journalist for over 28 years. He
was able to tell us what the media needed and how to go about getting
their help, while keeping the relationship fairly positive. Bill ran
interference, wrote releases and counseled us all on how to react, or
not react, when confronted. While there were times when the boundary
lines of sensitivity and good taste were crossed, especially by the more
sensationalistic outlets, nevertheless the media has played an important
role in the story. Media attention brought 5000 people out on the
Monday following Easter to search for Kristen. Media broadcasts and
billboards told people what to search for and helped police to keep the
focus on searching. When we gathered to make a public appeal for
Kristen’s abductors to release her, my father, flanked by the rest of
us, spoke to a wall of cameras and microphones. There wasn’t a sound
as he finished speaking. And all of these hardened journalists had tears
in their eyes.
Easter
weekend passed in a blur. Kristen’s shoe had been found on Good
Friday, confirming our worst fears and the word went out. Each morning
when we opened the door, there were fresh flowers, food, small offerings
from complete strangers who knew of no other way to express their
concern and support. Friends came by constantly, offering their hugs and
tears and what comfort they could. The phone rang non-stop and we all
jumped to get it on the first ring, but it wasn’t Kristen. The waiting
stretched to two weeks. The gifts on the porch continued unabated. The
young paper boy, with tears in his eyes, said he’d bring the paper
every day for free. A complete stranger came and cut the lawn. The
community, shocked and in pain themselves, gathered our family into
their hearts and has never let go.
Kristen’s
school community was hurting too. The school was a command centre for
this initial stage of the investigation. But teachers, staff and
students were reeling from the shock that one of their own was missing
from school. The students began the Green Ribbon campaign as a sign
of hope for Kristen’s safe return. It seemed to offer them a
visible reminder of what they were suffering and brought them together
in strength. In a very short time, everyone in St. Catharines seemed to
be wearing green ribbons. This little symbol of hope was adopted later
by Child Find as their national symbol of hope for the safe return of
all missing children. I believe this meant a great deal to those
young people.
Bill and I had to leave after a
week. Our children needed some degree of normalcy. Bill’s employer had
generously given him all the time he needed to take. Others in the
family weren’t so fortunate and life did indeed have to go on. At
home, life seemed a bit quieter, although it was very hard for us to
concentrate, to get a proper nights sleep, to eat properly. We were
still in shock and even the day to day tasks of life seemed almost
impossible to deal with.
We were in touch with the
family every day and began to notice something else. As the adult
siblings of a much young person, we were kept on the outside of much of
the information police shared with Dad and Donna. While this was
understandable, it placed a burden on my parents and the rest of my
family. Dad and Donna were told that to reveal things to anyone,
including us, could harm the case. This meant Dad and Donna couldn’t
reveal information they had which was disturbing to them and we
couldn’t really understand what was going on to offer comfort or
reassurance.
One
thing I shared with police much later on was the real need for all those
close to the victim to have information provided to them too. It caused
some very real pain to my parents when we children finally had to
confront the police about how this was alienating us from each other
just when we needed each other the most.
Our church community had
rallied around us with prayer and loving companionship. On April 30 Bill
and I had stopped in to church on our way home to drop something off. I
don’t mean to malign our fair sex, but as usual, I had stopped to talk
and Bill went out to the car to wait.
I believe it was God’s grace that when Bill heard on the radio
that a body had been found in a ditch in Burlington, we were where we
could be held in the loving arms of our pastor. His wife made a mad dash
to our home to help us pack and prepare for the journey back, while Bill
and I went to the children’s schools and explained what was happening.
Our
children, who were ten and seven at the time, were in two different
schools. The staff at both had been kept informed of the situation
all along and been asked to flag any possible signs of distress from
Sarah or Josh. The parents of Sarah and Josh’s friends were also part
of the surveillance team who watched over our children.
We tried to tell Sarah and
Josh what had happened without scaring them. It was a hard car ride. We
pulled into a fast food stop in Barrie just as Dad’s voice came on the
radio confirming that the body found was Kristen’s. The waiting was
over.
Much
of the rest of the story is public knowledge. So many people turned out
for visitation at Kristen’s funeral that the lineup stretched around
the block all the time. Her funeral was major event with an honour guard
of police and firemen at every corner on the route from church to the
cemetery. While this was comforting in a way, it was also intrusive. We
couldn’t stand at Kristen’s grave, as a family normally would, and
share the private and personal grief. We were surrounded by people and
police, who feared the perpetrator would show himself. Whenever
anyone came physically close, then or for long afterwards, we felt a
sense of threat. Many of us still deal with that initial fear reaction
if someone we don’t know comes too close.
We
all began to return to our lives, still struggling to come to grips with
the loss of Kristen, with the fear of not knowing who had harmed her and
where they would strike next. The problems of anxiety, lack of
concentration, sleeplessness and resultant physical ailments persisted.
Medical help was necessary at times, but what kept us strong and
functioning was the knowledge of our mutual bonds and faith that
Kristen’s suffering was over. We had several months to build up our
defenses before police called Dad and Donna to let them know arrests
were about to be made. When Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo’ were
arrested and details of who they were, where they lived and how close
Kristen had been came out, the effect was devastating. My aunt and
uncles lived right around the corner. Many family members had walked by
the house where Kristen was being held on Easter weekend and we were all
powerless to help. Guilt over this was felt by many people in the area
and especially by the police. There has been much criticism of the
various police forces involved in the investigation, which became one of
the largest in Canada’s history. But as a family, we have always
believed the police did everything they possibly could to find Kristen.
The
next few years of this story brought us into the realm of the courts and
criminal justice system. For neophytes, this was an incredibly confusing
and frustrating time. The world of plea bargains, legal wrangling, drawn
out or postponed court actions was totally new to us. We had
mistakenly believed we, as the surviving family, were represented by the
Crown. While the Crown attorney’s made good efforts to keep the
family, or at least Dad and Donna informed, they made it clear they
represented the state and would do what they felt was necessary despite
our views or wishes. This required hiring a lawyer to represent the
family. In this case, we were able to work together with the Mahaffey
family and with the assistance of CAVEAT and the generosity of Tim
Danson, the families were represented in the various court proceedings
over the next five years. But that didn’t stop things like the plea
barging with Homolka, the playing of the audio part of the tapes in open
court or the request from defense counsel that we remove our green
ribbons while in court, lest it influence the jury. (We cheated, we wore
them anyway, under our clothes.) While with rational minds we can
understand much of this, it nevertheless was very stressful. Combine
that with the continuing media scrutiny and public furor, and you can
imagine that the years from 1992 to 1995, when the Bernardo trial ended,
were anything but peaceful. Some of the long term effects are still
being recognized. And one other thing we recognize. We, given the
magnitude of this case and the horrific things that had taken place, not
only to Kristen, but to Leslie, Tammy, some young women who survived and
the Scarborough rape victims, we were accorded every assistance. From
financial help to donations of hotel accommodations, travel costs and
court support beyond the norm, we were able to move through this maze
with much help. This is not this case for the great majority of
victims and survivors of homicide. There is much the justice system
needs to take into account when assessing how people are assisted in the
process. And I believe much the community can offer by way of supportive
services.
This
brings us to the later stages of the journey. Since the Bernardo trial
ended in 1995, we have been learning about the correctional services in
Canada. About facilities, parole eligibility and hearings and a whole
new set of rights or lack thereof for us as victims of
crime. Wilma Derksen, who spoke to you last year, has called this
whole victim process a maze. And she is right on. We have been learning
about victim impact statements, the rights offenders have to full
disclosure, while victims must attend a parole hearing to fully learn
what the offender has been doing to heal, rehabilitate and prepare for
release. And victims must again provide their own transportation,
accommodation and meals to attend these hearings. Please don’t
mistake me, there have been great strides taken lately with regard to
victims’ rights at every stage of the process. I was previledged,
in my role as a Board member of the Church Council on Justice and
Corrections, to attend a roundtable on vicitms’ issues with the
Commissioners of CSC and the NPB. Because of the advocacy of people like
Wilma, Priscilla, the Rosenfelds and other victims and survivors of
homicide and because there are people in the corrections and justice
systems of Canada who truly
do care. Change is happening.
We,
my family and I, are still on this journey. It will last our lifetimes.
I’m sure we still have much to learn. But several months ago, we
gathered, 200 of us, to remember Kristen ten years after she was taken
from us. Her family, her friends, her community and the police and media
and lawyers and court staff who were brought together in her death,
continue to give each other strength in remembering her life. Our own
private guardian angel smiles from heaven. We are blessed.
For more information please
contact..
ptbochaplaincy@nexicom.net
Dan Haley
Peterborough Community Chaplaincy
Main
office P.O. Box 235
Peterborough ON
K9J 6Y8
705-741-4172 (Office)
705-741-4833 (Fax)
Office
E-mail
ptbochaplaincy@nexicom.net
Dan's personal e-mail danhaley@nexicom.net
Web site
www.ptbochaplaincy.org
New
Beginnings (transition house)
953
Clonsilla Ave
K9J 5Y2