The Mayerthorpe Story

by Robert Knuckle

  And the memory of that terrible March day in 2005 extended beyond Mayerthorpe.

  The night before the RCMP game at Rexall Place, in a nationally broadcast game between the Toronto Maple Leafs and the Ottawa Senators, the CBC devoted one of its Coach’s Corner segments to the Fallen Four and the game to be played in their honour in Edmonton.

  In that part of the telecast, details of the 2005 tragedy were recalled while photos of the four slain Mounties were shown on camera. And later, Don Cherry, in his traditional gaudy jacket and snazzy, high-collared shirt, reminded the listening audience, “We gotta get out there and support the Mounties.”

  Even detractors of the irreverent broadcaster rate his segment of that program as one of Don Cherry’s better moments on television.

  These memorial activities have been helpful to the Mayerthorpe community.

  Residents of the municipality know that the sad and infamous chapter in their town’s history will not be forgotten. But the Memorial Park, and, to a lesser extent, the annual hockey game have helped the people of Mayerthorpe put the tragic affair behind them and move on with their lives.

  Ex-mayor Albert Schalm says, “The community has healed now … we’re back to normal. The Memorial Park helps but the entire community has done a lot of things right. They’ve dealt with their pain in a considerate, sensible way and we’ve maintained a good relationship with the detachment.”

  Rev. Wendell Wiebe agrees, “Many towns might have collapsed because of the tragedy. But our people banded together with love and respect for each other and we found the strength to carry on.”

  The RCMP team at Rexall Place, March 1, 2009. Front row L to R: Adam Cook (CTV celebrity coach), Jim Martin, Adam Schedlosky, Alex DaSilva, Don McDermid, Clayton Seguin, Troy Heystek with his daughter Emma, Mark Hennig, Joe Sangster, Lindsay Carter, Bill Robinson. Back row L to R: Eddie Bourque, Devon Bateman, Steve Bereza, Cindie Christians, Trevor Josok, John Kirkman, Blaine Rahier, Gabe Graham, James Murray, Travis Harkness, Doug Lee.

  12 | Epilogue

  JAMES ROSZKO LEFT a huge wave of destruction in the wake of his murderous rampage. Not only did he seriously ravage the lives of the families of the four Mounties he killed, he left deep scars on many others.

  Anjila Steeves, Brock Myrol’s fiancée, has been badly affected by Brock’s death. She can’t seem to get over her loss and has even legally changed her last name to Steeves–Myrol. She now lives in Red Deer, Brock’s hometown, and, as an artist who has always loved painting, has managed to get a job as an assistant teacher of art at Red Deer College.

  “The past four years have been difficult. After Brock died, I stayed in Mayerthorpe until August. I was so depressed I seldom left the house. I still don’t want to socialize.

  “Before Brock was killed, I was very active. I got out and worked every day. I went to the gym; we went camping and hiking and fishing. Brock was my best friend.

  “I hardly know anyone here in Red Deer. I don’t see much of my old friends because most of them are married with children and families.”

  Anjila has been asked out on dates, but, she states, “I always say no. I have no desire to go out with anyone. It wouldn’t be fair for me to go out with someone else. I’m in love with Brock. He was so perfect for me … wonderful in every way.”

  Her primary focus continues to be on Brock. She often speaks of him as if he were still alive. There is a mystical side to this attractive woman. “I feel we met in another life before this and loved each other even then.”

  For the past four years, on Valentine’s Day, Anjila has gone to the cemetery and put flowers on Brock’s grave.

  In October 2008, she took what she calls a “memorial trip” to the Antares Training Centre in South Africa where Brock had qualified to be a field guide for Kruger National Park. While Anjila was there, she met Ian Owtram, the instructor who had trained Brock and who still remembered him very vividly.

  “Brock loved it there. Being there as a guide was his passion.

  “He always wanted to take me there. We planned to come here on our honeymoon.

  “I wanted to see the Centre and the grounds … and the places where Brock had taken his course and where he ate and slept.”

  Although Anjila seems to be preoccupied by her tragic past, she does sustain a glimmer of hope for the future. “I went to the police memorial services in Ottawa and found that I liked it there. I discovered an area in Quebec province where there are a lot of artistic people … musicians and artists, and I’ve made some good friends there.”

  She purchased some property near Val Des Monts, about twenty-five minutes north of Ottawa, and plans someday to live in the quaint town of Wakefield, Quebec. “It’s beautiful there. Brock would have loved it there.”

  It’s very apparent that Anjila is struggling to get over her loss, but she says, “I find it very hard to do.”

  Kim Gordon has been left to raise her two sons on her own. Her older boy, Spencer, is seven and in school. He doesn’t remember his dad. Her second son, Anthony, who was born after his father died, is four.

  Kim says, “It’s very difficult when I think about the fact that my sons will never know their father.

  “And I’m tired of talking to the media. It’s been four years now since my husband was killed and with every anniversary of his death the phone starts ringing for interviews or my comments.

  “People don’t realize how time goes by. Everyone wants to go back over it. I want to look ahead … and raise my children. I’m trying to get on with my life. I want a happy life and I’m determined that my sons will have a happy life, too.”

  There is a tired sadness in her voice when she says to the author, “You’re my last interview. After this, I don’t want to say any more.”

  Kelly Johnston stayed in Mayerthorpe until June 2007, when she moved to Airdrie, Alberta.

  “I wanted a fresh start. I hoped for something positive and I’ve always loved the view of the mountains.”

  Her friend Andria Reid says that Kelly needed to get out of Mayerthorpe. “She needed to be away from the centre of attention. Every person in town knew she was Leo’s widow … she couldn’t get away from their comments and their concern.”

  And Kelly thought about Leo constantly. “I still do … and I always will.

  “And I still think about how Roszko snuck into the Quonset hut.”

  She says she went out to the crime scene many times. “I just wanted to be where Leo died.

  “For months and years after the incident I drove the Range Road by Roszko’s property, trying to figure how Roszko got by Leo and Tony. I always went alone. That was just for me. I would stand at the farm gate for hours trying to satisfy my curiosity as to how he did it.

  “And now I think I know.”

  But Kelly says her theory about that is something she is not willing to share with anyone. “That’s private … something I just want to keep to myself.”

  When Leo died, his father, Ron Johnston, asked Kelly to have him buried in Leo’s hometown of Lac La Biche, Alberta, and Kelly agreed. But later, when Kelly went to Depot to meet Queen Elizabeth II, she visited the RCMP cemetery there and knew that this was the place where her husband should be buried.

  Kelly made application to have Leo’s body exhumed and was granted permission. But Leo’s parents, Ron and Grace Johnston, opposed the disinterment. They wanted their son’s body to remain near his Metis ancestors in Lac La Biche. As a consequence, a legal battle ensued at several court levels, where Kelly’s request to move her husband’s remains was always upheld. The dispute ultimately went to the Supreme Court of Canada, but they refused to hear the case.

  An attempt was made to disinter Leo’s body in the fall of 2007 but the Johnstons and several of their supporters blocked access to the grave.

  With all the legal hurdles crossed in Kelly’s favour, arrangements were made to have Leo’s body exhumed on the bitterly cold day of December 15, 2008. As a sign of respect for Leo Johnston�
��s service with the Force, and to ensure that those in attendance kept the peace, the RCMP stationed vehicles at the gates of the cemetery. Kelly stood at the gravesite with six Mounties by her side while the disinterment process ensued.

  The Johnstons, with their son Lee and his wife, watched the procedure from a hotel across the street from the cemetery. When Leo’s casket was lifted onto the vault truck, Kelly sat in a funeral car while the Johnston family came over to pay their final respects.

  Although the Johnstons were deeply traumatized by the exhumation of their son’s remains, they maintained their decorum, and the transfer of the casket proceeded as smoothly as possible.

  Leo’s remains were taken to a funeral home in Edmonton.

  Kelly says, “The next morning, I spent an hour of very special time with my husband in a private room.”

  Leo’s body was then cremated. His ashes were deposited in one side of a heart-shaped urn.

  Kelly told the author, “We used to cuddle and spoon every night, even during afternoon naps. Someday my ashes will be in the other chamber of the urn, and we’ll be able to spoon together every night for eternity.”

  Their vessel will be ensconced in the columbarium at the RCMP cemetery in Regina at some undisclosed time in the future.

  “It will be a very private ceremony. That’s when I will walk my Leo across the parade square one last time and see him put to rest with his fellow officers.”

  Don Schiemann, his wife, Beth, and their children, Michael and Julia, were crushed by Peter Schiemann’s death. As a close-knit and deeply religious family, their only consolation is that they will be with him again in heaven.

  After Peter’s death, Don was very active, attending many of the legal proceedings that took place. On occasion he was quite vocal about various aspects of the Mayerthorpe tragedy, particularly those pertaining to the fact that a man of James Roszko’s criminal history was allowed to remain out on the streets.

  RCMP Chapel, Regina Training Academy (Depot)

  In his desire to reform the Canadian justice system, Don initiated a campaign entitled Vision for Justice in Canada. To date, he has written over sixteen newsletters that address the weaknesses and flaws that he feels plague our laws and judicial policies, particularly in the domain of sentencing and parole.

  Page one of the Book of Remembrance located inside the Chapel at Depot.

  Although the families of the murdered Mounties have suffered immensely, they did participate in two events that were intended to lift their spirits.

  On May 19, 2005, members of the families were invited to the Training Academy (Depot) in Regina to meet Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip. The meeting took place in the old and revered chapel on the base. This small, white building with its bright red spire that is located on the edge of the parade square holds a special niche in the hearts of all Depot graduates. It is the only structure on the base that remains from the original Northwest Mounted Police supply depot. Back then, it was one of four barracks that housed the Mounties who served in the Riel Rebellion.

  It was from the second floor of one of these buildings that once stood near the chapel that Louis Riel was hanged in November 1885.

  Inside the chapel, the walls are lined with numerous plaques that honour many Mounties from the past who lost their lives while in the performance of their duties. These tablets — such as the marker for the four members of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police who are remembered as the famed “Lost Patrol” — offer an observer a virtual lesson in Canadian history.

  A Book of Remembrance is on display near the entrance to the chapel. Each page in this ornate tome is dedicated to a member of the RCMP Honour Roll. Every week, a page is turned to feature one of these fallen officers.

  It was near the chapel entrance that the queen and her consort were introduced to the family members of the fallen four.

  Kelly Johnston says, “The queen was lovely … beautiful blue eyes, skin like porcelain. In the brief time I spoke to her, I found her to be a wonderful, compassionate lady.”

  In October, the families travelled to Ottawa to meet with Prime Minister Paul Martin and two of his government associates. During this meeting, Don Schiemann presented them with demands for mandatory minimum sentences and the elimination of reduced parole and statutory release provisions for criminals of serious crimes.

  Back in Alberta, all the members of both the Mayerthorpe and Whitecourt detachments have been reassigned to new postings.

  Sergeant Brian Pinder was transferred to a staffing assignment at Edmonton Headquarters.

  Jim Martin was promoted to sergeant and transferred to the Spruce Grove Detachment in Alberta, where he supervises twenty-three members and seven support staff. He still lives on his acreage south of Mayerthorpe with his wife, Melanie, and his daughter, Haley. And he continues to be involved with the Fallen Four Memorial Society and the annual hockey game they sponsor against the Wranglers. It’s hard to imagine a Mountie who is more dynamic than Jim at his job and enthusiastic about his involvement with his community.

  Clayton Seguin was transferred to Claresholm, Alberta, in June 2006. He says, “I was kind of disappointed they didn’t move us quicker. It was difficult staying in Mayerthorpe. Everywhere you turned, there were reminders of the incident. It brought back a lot of painful memories.

  “What’s worse, some of the local petty criminals would say antagonizing things to your face. I gave one of these guys a speeding ticket, and he said, ‘He should have got more of you.’ Another told me, ‘It should have been you.’ Some of the bad kids in the area would say terrible things to the members’ kids.”

  Clayton says he knows that there are Mounties from other jurisdictions in Alberta who have received the same kind of insults and verbal abuse.

  Corporal Jeff Whipple agrees with Clayton. He insists, “They should have moved us right away. I would go into work one day, then I had to go home the next day. I’d see the psychologist, then go back to work. That first week after the killings, I can’t remember a thing about it. I don’t have a clue about what was going on. I was off work, then back, then off. Everything is a complete blur. This went on for fifteen months after the incident.”

  Whipple is still an active member of the Force, but he’s off duty with full pay and benefits.

  Both Whipple and Al Starman of the Mayerthorpe Detachment are suing the RCMP for the trauma they experienced as a result of the massacre. They claim they are permanently disabled and suffer from nightmares, flashbacks, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

  Starman’s suit claims he witnessed the aftermath of the shootings and suffered significant nervous shock. He was medically discharged from the RCMP in 2007. His claim states that instead of recognizing his health problems and transferring him out of Mayerthorpe, the RCMP continued to involve him in the investigation, where he had to deal with the relatives of the dead officers.

  Speaking on behalf of the RCMP, Cpl. Wayne Oakes says that under the Force’s member assistance program, all the Mounties were offered stress counselling following the Mayerthorpe shootings. He adds that services were provided to every member that was impacted.

  Clayton Seguin found it very difficult to talk to me about the incident. When I spoke to him on the phone, I could hear the anguish in his voice.

  Cindie Dennis was married to Kevin Christians on June 7, 2008, at her grandparents’ ranch near Lundbreck, Alberta. She is now serving at Leduc and is still bothered by her memories of the tragedy. But she was willing to try and talk about them, especially about her fond memories of her close friend Peter Schiemann.

  But there are many members from both the Mayerthorpe and Whitecourt detachments who cannot bring themselves to discuss their recollections of that terrible time in their lives.

  Joe Sangster, Leo Johnston’s close friend, who was transferred to Killam, Alberta, was so traumatized by the incident that he still finds it too painful to talk about.

  Julie Letal, who is now at the Peace River De
tachment, feels much the same as Joe Sangster.

  Supt. Marty Cheliak was promoted to Chief Superintendent in July 2006 and transferred to Iqaluit, where he is in command of “V” Division (Nunavut), a huge area that stretches across the top of Canada and encompasses twenty percent of the country’s land mass. More recently, he has been transferred to RCMP Headquarters in Ottawa.

  Margaret Thibault stayed on at Victims’ Services until 2007. Then she left and volunteered to work for the Fallen Four Memorial Society, where, for a year, she helped supervise the development and creation of Mayerthorpe’s Memorial Park.

  In April 2008, she became the secretary for George VanderBurg, the sitting MLA for Whitecourt–Ste. Anne.

  Staff Sergeant Tom Pickard and virtually all the members of the Whitecourt Detachment will not talk about the tragic incident. Those from Whitecourt whom I contacted were polite but simply said something to the effect that, “I respect what you’re trying to do, but I prefer not to talk about this.” Or, “That was a very painful time in my life and I want to put it behind me.”

  Whenever I encountered this type of response, I made it a point to respect the individual’s feelings and accept his or her silence. Many of them are suffering from PTSD and several are still receiving professional help.

  As a writer of several books about police murders, I have often come upon witnesses of these sad events — especially principals in the stories — who are either unwilling or unable to speak about their memories of the incidents. On many occasions — for this book and others that I have written or wanted to write — I have spoken to widows, family members, and friends of the deceased who simply cannot bring themselves to relive the agony of their experiences.

  There have been times when some of these individuals have agreed to speak to me but cancelled out when the time came for their interviews. When this has happened, I have either discontinued my attempt to write the book or moved on to other principals who were able to speak about their experiences.

  However, it is my contention that these tragedies are very much part of the fabric of our history and, as such, are stories that need to be told. As horrible a catastrophe as the Mayerthorpe incident was, it is a tale that needed to be thoroughly researched and recorded. And it’s a book that belongs on the shelves of every library in the country — including those in our schools.