The Mayerthorpe Story

by Robert Knuckle

  “And he had pet names for lots of people. He called Brian Pinder and Jim Martin ‘Boss Man.’ He’d come in and say, ‘Good morning, Boss Man’ … and they never seemed to mind.”

  Leo was particularly effective working with the Native young people on the Alexis First Nations Reserve. He seemed to have the magic touch of being able to talk to the kids on their own level.

  Leo and Kelly Johnston on their wedding day, November 13, 2004.

  Leo and Kelly were married on November 13, 2004 and planned to take their honeymoon the following summer.

  Andria Gogan declares, “As a couple, those two were the best two people in the world. They were absolutely meant to be together … perfect for each other. I know it’s corny, but they were like two peas in a pod.”

  Brock Myrol, twenty-nine, the newest member of the Mayerthorpe Detachment, arrived in town on February 11, 2005. He was born in Outlook, Saskatchewan, and raised in Red Deer, Alberta.

  Brock took a circuitous route to becoming a Mountie. He had been a security guard at Zellers for ten years. During his off-hours, he attended Red Deer College, taking courses in biology and anthropology.

  He also had become extremely accomplished in almost every form of martial art. His skills in jiu jitsu, mui tai kickboxing, grappling, wrestling, and karate were at a very high level. In 2002, he was awarded a black belt in shoot wrestling (mixed martial arts). The shelves in his room at home were lined with trophies he had won at a number of major martial arts championship tournaments.

  Brock also did a lot of travelling. On various trips, he toured the U.S. and visited Fiji and Australia.

  In 2001, he was accepted into the Edmonton City Police Force but severely damaged a cartilage in his knee doing martial arts, which prevented him from passing the Edmonton Police physical. A year later, he began dating Anjila Steeves, a full-time arts student from Red Deer who was studying anthropology and had plans of becoming an artist. They very quickly fell in love and began living together.

  Brock Myrol and Anjila Steeves at the Edmonton Airport, the day after getting engaged, December 2004.

  Around this same time, Brock initiated his application process to join the RCMP. After a two-month sojourn as a certified field guide in South Africa’s Kruger National Park, he returned to Red Deer and one year later was accepted into the RCMP. He began his training in Regina in August 2004.

  Like Peter Schiemann and Leo Johnston before him, Brock was extremely successful at Depot. He was held in such high regard by his troop mates that they elected him valedictorian at their graduation ceremony.

  Before he completed his training, he proposed marriage to Anjila, and they planned to be wed at the end of September 2005.

  Anjie says, “We were so much in love. Brock would say to me, ‘I can’t wait for you to be my wife. I’m so ready for you to be my wife.’

  “When he was at Depot, I kept some framed photos of him and some of his trophies in a special place. But when we moved to Mayerthorpe, I had to take them down. I told Brock, ‘Well, I guess I can finally take down your shrine.’”

  Immediately after Brock’s graduation, he and Anjie rented a truck and hauled their furniture and other possessions to Mayerthorpe. They had previously made arrangements to rent a three-bedroom back-split on 47th Street across from Margaret and Frank Thibault. They moved in three days before Brock was slated to report for duty on Valentine’s Day, 2005.

  Clayton Seguin, who was assigned as Brock’s trainer, was there to help them unload their stuff the day they arrived in town. Four other detachment members came by to welcome them to Mayerthorpe.

  Anjie remembers, “Clayton Seguin came over and helped us. It was very nice of him … and all of them … to make us feel so welcome. Inside the house there were boxes and cartons all over the place. We didn’t know where to begin.”

  What’s more, on their first night in Mayerthorpe, Margaret Thibault had other plans for Brock and Anjila. For the past two years, she and Jim Martin had run a fundraiser for Victim’s Services at the Diamond Centre, Mayerthorpe’s community hall. Their idea was to have a special event to replace the defunct annual Firemen’s Ball — one where the members and the town’s residents could come together and relate in a positive way.

  The theme of the evening was a fifties night known as “The Soda Shop,” where people dressed in fifties attire and danced to the jive tunes of that era. All the local Mounties dressed in their red serge uniforms and turned out to serve sodas to the three hundred people who usually attended the affair.

  Margaret went over to Brock’s house and told him, “Never mind unloading your stuff. You’re going to help us tonight. Put on your red serge and come out and meet everybody in town at the Diamond Centre.”

  When Anjila asked what she should wear, Margaret replied, “Just put on some blue jeans and a blouse. It’s a fifties night. Everyone knows you just moved into town.”

  The evening proved to be an excellent way for Brock and Anjie to start their new life in Mayerthorpe. But it still took them some time to get settled in.

  Anjie says, “We didn’t have a lot of friends in Mayerthorpe because we just moved there. Margaret Thibault and her husband, Frank, were very nice to us. They were wonderful.

  “Brock told me, ‘If you ever need anything or someone to talk to, go across the street and see Margaret.’

  “Brock and I did a lot of things together. He was my best friend.

  “I remember one night I woke up in a panic. I was having a dream and I couldn’t find him in the dream. But then I was relieved to hear him in the shower.”

  Cindie Dennis says, “Brock was so in love with Anjie. He was so proud of her. He talked to me a lot about how some people just go out and get married. He said, ‘But I waited for the perfect person. The person I love.’”

  Eventually, Brock got to know every member of the detachment. The two he seemed most comfortable with were Peter Schiemann and Leo Johnston. On a few occasions, Brock took them to the gym and gave them instruction on martial arts techniques.

  Anjie recalls, “He really developed major bonds with Leo and Peter. They became very close friends.”

  When Brock went to work, Anjila never really worried about the danger he might face. She says, “He was phenomenal in every way … in his training, his physical conditioning, and in his dealing with people.

  “He had so many life experiences and life skills. He had great intuition, great compassion for people. He was a communicator. He would never use force unless it was absolutely necessary. On top of that, he was a marksman. Why would I worry about Brock?”

  In the short time that Brock was at Mayerthorpe, he became so deeply involved in his police work that Anjila rarely saw him. “He just had a passion to work. A lot of it was voluntary overtime where he was just really excited to go out there and do police work.”

  Brock spent most of his time on the job shadowing Clayton Seguin.

  Anjie remembers, “Clayton was great with Brock … and with me, too. They spent a lot of time together in a cruiser … almost every day.”

  Clayton, at twenty-six, was three years younger than Brock and had been at Mayerthorpe for only three years.

  Margaret Thibault says, “Clayton used to take a lot of kidding about his age. He was a good-hearted guy … very positive and friendly. He was very active in sports … coached hockey, worked with the kids in school, and was a chaperone and facilitator for Grade 8 students in a summer program called COOL camp. He and Jim Martin played on the local hockey team.”

  Like Jim Martin, Clayton was very active in the community. He and his wife, Amanda, really enjoyed living in Mayerthorpe. “Amanda and I were married in 2001. And before I graduated from Depot in September, 2002, they told me I was going to Mayerthorpe.

  “I had no clue where it was and had to look it up on a map. Even then, it was hard to find. But in the end it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

  “For a joke, I told Amanda, ‘We’re going to Nova Scotia.
’

  “‘Are you serious?’

  “Yeah, I’m just kidding. We’re going to Mayerthorpe.

  “‘Where is it?’

  “North of Edmonton.

  “‘OK, let’s do it.’”

  Clayton continues, “In week eighteen of my twenty-two weeks of training, we went there for a visit.

  “My first impression was, ‘Oh my God, what have I got myself into?’

  “It was small. There were a couple of paved roads, but most were gravel. It looked like a town that wasn’t finished.

  “But we grew to love it. I could not have asked for a better place. The people in the community are second to none. I have never felt more welcome anywhere in my life.”

  Kelly Johnston agrees with Clayton. “Everybody seemed to know us. I didn’t know hardly anyone, but when I walked down the street everybody waved and said ‘Hi.’ It is just a beautiful place to live.

  “At the same time, Mayerthorpe people would leave us alone. Leo and I were very private with our lives. Every minute that he wasn’t at work, we liked to spend together … just the two of us. We treasured that. So we were really glad to be left alone.”

  Clayton and Amanda Seguin soon became an integral part of a very tight police family that lived in the same neighbourhood. They bought a house in town that backed on Peter Schiemann’s place and was only a half block away from Leo and Kelly Johnston. Joe and Heather Sangster and their daughters, Laura and Megan, lived only few minutes away. Julie Letal, another Mayerthorpe member who had previously served with the Alexis First Nations Police, lived in a house that was about sixty kilometres out of town, but when it burned down, she came and stayed with the Seguins for four months.

  The other Mountie who played a principal role in the Mayerthorpe catastrophe was Tony Gordon. At home he was always called Anthony, but at work he was Tony.

  Tony was from the Whitecourt Detachment. At the time of the incident, Whitecourt was a town of 8,500 located about forty kilometres northwest of Mayerthorpe, on Highway #43 at the confluence of the MacLeod and Athabasca rivers.

  Whitecourt was a thriving community with all the amenities of a big city. People from other rural communities came there to shop. It had a busy downtown area with a lot of small but flourishing businesses. It also had a twenty-five-bed hospital, three high schools, a Canadian Tire, a Walmart, a Boston Pizza, a Tim Hortons, and a movie theatre.

  The average age of its residents was twenty-eight years; many of them were employed in the local lumber or pulp and paper industries or in the lucrative jobs in the oil fields to the north.

  The detachment building at Whitecourt was built in 1991 to accommodate a staff of eleven members. It includes offices, change rooms, a workout area, and an eight-room cellblock.

  The NCO commanding was Staff Sergeant Tom Pickard, who was assisted by the Operations NCO, Sgt. Blaine Rahier. Most of the Whitecourt members were young and many of them were single. These included Constables Jeff Feist, Charlotte Sorensen, Dale Bereza, Bobby Kuehn, Des Sandboe, Beth Hoskin, Trevor Josok, and Rolland White.

  Other members serving at Whitecourt were Cpl. Chris Short and Constables Line Rolland, Jim Drolet, Daniel Bouwmeester, and Barry Baskerville. Baskerville was Tony Gordon’s closest friend.

  Des Sandboe, Trevor Josok, and Rolland White worked the traffic detail under Cpl. Whipple. When Peter Schiemann was transferred to traffic duties, he and Rollie White became very close. They would phone or text each other every day.

  But it was Constable Anthony Gordon who, by fate, was thrust into the vortex of this tragedy.

  At six feet four inches and 230 pounds, Anthony Gordon was the one of biggest Mounties in both the Whitecourt and Mayerthorpe detachments.

  After graduating from high school, he tried a number of different jobs — cabinetmaking, driving a tow truck, and managing a Swiss Chalet restaurant. But none of these jobs were what he was looking for.

  What he really wanted to do was become a Mountie. To give himself a reasonable chance of passing their qualifying tests, he enrolled at Red Deer College and took a course for a year, particularly to upgrade his facility with English.

  In June 2000, he met Kim Gamracy, a registered nurse, and it wasn’t long before they fell in love. But Anthony still wanted to become a Mountie. Kim says, “That was his goal from the moment I met him.” And she encouraged him to pursue that dream.

  In May 2002, Anthony entered Depot. And he absolutely blossomed there. His troop mates elected him “right marker,” an honorary position of leadership with his thirty-two-man troop.

  He took his responsibilities very seriously and earned high marks in all of his courses. His future with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police seemed very bright and promising.

  Even under the pressure of his courses in Regina, he and Kim decided to get married while he was attending Depot. Anthony flew home to Red Deer for a weekend in August, and they were married. Then it was back to Depot to finish his training program.

  After graduating in October, Anthony was assigned to Whitecourt. When Anthony, Kim, and their son, Spencer, arrived in town, they rented a two-bedroom apartment and settled in very nicely. Kim immediately got a job nursing at the Whitecourt Hospital. Not long after their arrival, they submitted the down payment to have a new house built.

  As a rookie, Tony spent his first six months with his trainer, learning the ropes and getting a feel for the community. Because Whitecourt was a town where young workers made good money, there were lots of alcohol-and drug-related problems, B and E’s, petty crimes, and bar fights.

  Kim and Anthony Gordon at his graduation from Depot, October 15, 2002.

  Because of Tony’s size and his trim physical condition, no one ever challenged him to a fight. And this suited Anthony very nicely because that was not the way he wanted to carry out his police work. Tony was known and liked for his gentleness, his honesty, and his integrity.

  Although he didn’t work at the same detachment as Peter Schiemann and Leo Johnston, he had met Peter and had played golf with Leo. And it is interesting how similar the three of them were in their personalities and character.

  Off the job, he and Kim got to know the other members and their families at parties, barbecues, golf tournaments, ski weekends, and Detachment Christmas dinners. Tony and Kim often were the hosts for those Detachment dinners and other celebrations. Kim says, “I’d cook a big turkey for Christmas or Thanksgiving, and everyone would come over. The last big party at our house was in February 2005.”

  Anthony was a sports fanatic. He played hockey and baseball and especially loved playing golf. He water-skied and played squash and was an extremely competent black diamond downhill skier. Kim says, “He would attempt to do anything that was challenging or new.”

  He loved camping by tent in Jasper National Park and had been there fifteen times in the last five years. On one occasion, the Gordons went camping with thirty people.

  In the summer of 2003, Anthony, Kim, and Spencer spent ten days of his holidays camping in a tent in the mountains at Kananaskis. But Kim says, “Anthony’s biggest accomplishment was being a dad. He used to sit and stare at our son, Spencer, with such love and pride. Even my ninety-one-year-old grandmother remarked about that to me.”

  When Kim was working nights and Anthony wanted to hang out with the other members to watch a hockey or football game, Anthony used to bring Spencer with him. And everybody loved his being there — including Spencer.

  In October 2004, Anthony was delighted to find out that Kim was expecting again. In February 2005, she had an ultrasound revealing that their second child would be another boy.

  Anthony was off work on holidays for eight straight days before his encounter with James Roszko. During those days, he spent a lot of time with three year-old Spencer, helped a friend move, and meticulously packed items from their apartment for his family’s move to their new house, which was almost ready.

  Then during the last weekend in February 2005, he went on a ski weeke
nd to Banff with twelve of his Mountie friends. From what he told Kim, they had a wonderful time.

  It’s clear that Anthony Gordon and his three star-crossed colleagues all enjoyed wonderful lives and careers. Unfortunately, fate was lurking to intervene against them.

  Young policewoman Cindie Dennis may have best expressed the unpredictability of a police officer’s destiny. “In life, you can never tell what will happen — especially in the police force. You can do what those guys did a thousand times and nothing ever happens. But then …”

  4 | Hennessey and Cheeseman

  WHEN ROSZKO FLED his farm, he was filled with rage. He strongly suspected that the bailiffs would call the police, and there was a reasonable chance that they would go into his Quonset and discover what was going on in there.

  But he couldn’t afford to stick around and watch his place, because the police would probably come after him and help the bailiffs repossess his truck. He had to find a place to hide his truck until the situation quieted down. Then he could make his next move, depending on whether or not the authorities discovered the contents of his barn.

  He knew his mother could clearly see his Quonset from the back window of her trailer. He would phone her and she could tell him everything that was happening on his property.

  Right after the bailiffs arrived, Roszko phoned his aunt, Ann Chayka, who lived in Cherhill, some thirty-eight kilometres (twenty-three miles) away. He was trying to find his mother, but his aunt didn’t know where she was.

  Around four p.m., after he fled his farm, Roszko phoned his aunt again, sounding somewhat anxious and disturbed. He indicated there was a distressing situation occurring at his farm. Not long after that, he phoned his sister Josephine Ruel to rage about the authorities’ harassing him again. He had always felt close to Josephine. She seemed to understand him more than the others.

  Roszko must have either driven by his farm or possibly stopped at his mother’s place to see that the police were now at his farm. His mother lived on the next Range Road, and he could have seen his Quonset and his farmyard from her trailer.