I met Angela and Emma for the first time as they walked up the boardwalk in the Honour Garden, which surrounds the bronze monument. The Honour Garden begins not far from the RCMP station. The entrance is behind the Moncton Press Club, on Assumption Boulevard, at the Westmorland Street entrance to Riverfront Park.
At the start of the Honour Garden, there are several vertical panels that mark the entrance of the walkway, which leads to the statue depicting the three officers. The memorial sits off in the distance, but is clearly visible and recognizable from all vantage points in the garden. The entrance panels read, in part: “The Honour Garden celebrates life, bravery, community spirit and resilience. Views of the Moncton skyline and the Petitcodiac River provide a peaceful location to honour the commitment of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.”
The entire City of Moncton seemed to be energized and ready to support the families and the RCMP once again. For example: as soon as I arrived at my hotel, the first thing my husband, daughter, and I noticed were two long horizontal photographs of the three deceased officers wearing their dress uniforms. The photos sat on a glass table in the hotel lobby and formed a base around a vase of red roses. It immediately set the tone for what was to come.
The next thing I noticed was a large group of groundskeepers outside of our hotel room window. Across the street from where we were staying was the RCMP station. On that weekend, there were hundreds of red and white tulips in full bloom in front of and all along the side of the RCMP headquarters. The red flowers reminded me of the RCMP red serge, and the red and white blossoms combined were a symbol of the Canadian flag.
It was a thoughtful and poignant backdrop, as was this inscription on another Honour Garden panel, which addressed that community spirit and unity: “Residents heeded the call to keep their porch lights on to assist police in their duties. This simple act was echoed around the world and became a symbol of hope and support. A community is defined not by a single moment, but by its people and their response to adversity. Our city’s spirit and resiliency shone though then and continues to do so.”
On the evening of June 3, 2016, the private memorial event for Constable Fabrice Gevaudan was held at 6:30. The weather was warm with a slight breeze and it was partially overcast. There were a few dozen people already waiting in the Honour Garden when I arrived by myself. They stood and sat on benches near a large, white, covered tent, the kind you see at garden parties or outdoor weddings. It was placed over the statue at one end of the Garden. It hid the memorial away from public view, until the official and larger unveiling event at eleven the next morning.
The small crowd present included members of the RCMP, in dress uniform, officers from other jurisdictions, retired police officers from various forces, as well as family members, loved ones, and guests of the Gevaudan family. They were of all ages and backgrounds.
I mistakenly assumed when I arrived that the people present represented all three RCMP families. I did not realize until I approached a plainclothes RCMP staff member, near the tent’s entrance, that this specific time frame had been reserved just for the Gevaudan family and guests. Each of the families and loved ones had their own set time to privately view the statue with their own invited group.
As 6:30 approached, the crowd grew. Angela, her daughter Emma, and the team from the Tema Trust arrived, after passing through the panels in the Honour Garden and walking up the boardwalk towards the tent. Erin Alvarez and I saw each other and I walked towards the group, giving her a hug. She had flown in with Vince from Ontario the day before.
Angela was immediately welcoming to me and superbly graceful under such pressure. She made me feel comfortable. I was concerned about overstepping boundaries as a new acquaintance during such an important and private moment.
As the ceremony began, Angela stood near the opening of the tent and First Nations Elder Joe Michael, a close friend and mentor of Angela’s, both of whom have Mi’kmaq heritage, asked everyone to gather around in a large circle.
“What is spoken in a talking circle is kept confidential and [is] not to be spoken outside the circle,” Elder Joe Michael explained to me afterwards via an email interview, so I will not write about anything that was said by anyone present that night.
We all joined hands. There were approximately 100 to 125 people present. The circle was large and it was quiet. It was warm for that time of night and year, twenty-one degrees.
An on-duty RCMP officer stood discreetly behind our section of the circle. There were several members posted throughout the Garden and near the tent to make sure the private event unfolded without disruption. Other off-duty officers joined in the circle, some in uniform and some in plain clothes.
Angela and Elder Joe Michael, who is the Peace and Friendship Coordinator at the Tatamagouche Centre and a former RCMP officer, made some opening remarks. The Elder started passing a “talking stick” around.
One person holds the stick and says whatever they want, either aloud, so everyone can hear, or quietly to only those near them. Once you finish speaking, you pass the stick on to the next person in the circle, in a clockwise fashion, until everyone has a chance to speak. You can simply pass the stick along to the next person if you choose not to say anything.
The stick, primarily red in colour and handmade from maple by Joe Michael, was about five feet in length and had images of the three officers’ faces painted on it. It was intricate and beautiful.
Joe had created three large talking sticks, one for each of the three officers’ wives. Three smaller sticks were also handcrafted by the Elder for the women to personally keep within their families.
It was later explained to me the larger talking sticks were “entrusted” to the spouses. Eventually each must be presented to another person, who is selected to permanently own it, and where the presenter believes, and deeply feels, the stick truly and ultimately belongs. To receive a talking stick is an honour and is not to be taken lightly.
I had never taken part in a talking circle. I was moved to tears several times throughout the ceremony, either by hearing comments or by simply observing facial expressions and reactions. It was a moving and healing experience.
A smudging ceremony also took place. An Elder burns sage and other specific materials and wafts the smoke gently at the people in the circle, using an eagle feather, as they move around the people. Smudging can also be done on objects, like a statue or monument, as Elder Joe did in Moncton and also explained via email.
I initially asked the Elder a series of interview questions via email, but fearing I may have offended him by that approach, I further explained my intentions and the book’s purpose on the telephone, hoping to not offend him by asking about aboriginal rituals. Of course, this all followed meeting him in person in Moncton and asking permission to contact him afterwards, to which he agreed.
Elder Joe Michael was gracious from the outset and responded with a detailed email. Therefore, I will consider and refer to his writing and teachings as his own legacy letter.
He shared some details of his history within his community and a number of facts regarding the deep traditions he has learned from his mentor, the widely revered spiritual leader the late Elder Noel Knockwood.
I am honoured and thankful Elder Joe Michael has taken part in this book by sharing the following teachings with us:
Hi Janice,
I would like to tell you a little about myself. I am from the community of Indian Brook, just on the outskirts of the village called Shubenacadie, Nova Scotia. Our community reclaimed its original name in Mi’kmaq, which is Sipek’Katik …
I became interested in Traditional Rituals after participating in a ceremony with the late Spiritual Leader Noel Knockwood, from the same community of Indian Brook.
My teachings began in 1971.
I learned about sweet grass, sage and many other ceremonies. Smudging is just one of many ceremonies. All the ceremonies are important [and are] to be done in a proper, traditional way.
The smudging can be performed on objects or personal items, or the body, which [can] include the whole body … in this case, the monument was smudged for the spirits of the fallen members and for people to respect the monument, while they are viewing [it] … people who never knew these peace officers, who gave the ultimate sacrifice of their lives.
The smudge can consist of sweet grass, sage, cider, tobacco and maybe other items that can be burnt during the ceremonies …
During the smudging of individuals, they are [placed] in … a circle fashion, following the clockwise [direction] … or if there’s only one person, the same [pattern] is conducted in the smudging.
The elder, or someone who is entrusted by the elder, can perform the smudging, [but] even the person who is helping the elder has to be taught [the correct procedures].
The elder will be in possession of an eagle feather and a shell, with the sage, sweet grass, or tobacco [in it] as they are fanning the smoke towards the individual.
Here’s a brief teaching:
The mind is first to clear … your ears to hear good, your mouth to speak good of people, your heart for many reasons, your arms to reach out to people, in friendship or to help people, your legs … travelling on the red road. This is just a Reader’s Digest version, just to give you some idea, Janice Landry.
The talking stick is [a] personal item for individuals. [There are] many images on the talking stick; some people request what they want on the talking stick, to be used in the healing processions …
What is said in the talking circle remains there and [is] not to be spoken outside the circle. These are personal conversations and will be respected as confidential discussions.
Who can be entrusted with the talking stick? Anyone can be entrusted, if the proper protocols are followed. Stephen Covey, one of the best speakers, so I was told, has a talking stick that was given to him by an aboriginal from the United States.
I have talking sticks from Italy, U.S.A., and Pakistan, and many areas across Canada. There is no limit in the length of the talking stick; however, smaller ones are generally used for this purpose. I like to use maple trees; however, other trees can be used …
You mentioned [when we spoke on the phone] about feeling the pain of the [RCMP] members. My brother also served in the R.C.M. Police and never got to enjoy his retirement. My brother was much younger than me. He only enjoyed his retirement for a short while and travelled to the spirit world. So I know about feeling their pain.
I served over twenty-five years in the force and met lots of members who were killed in the line of service; I felt their pain, also.
My [RCMP] service covered many areas, in many different lines of duty … I can say: I served with pride and still continue my contact with the force.
As with the unveiling of the monument, and many cross-cultural events and awareness, the [police] force has acknowledged my traditional rituals and customs and I have been asked to perform some of these rituals for them.
Finally, you asked the question about being an elder. There are people out there who call themselves “elders”; some are of elderly age, and some are young – a true elder will not call themselves “elder.”
Not all elders have to be practicing traditional rituals. Their wisdom and being respected in the community, by helping people, then they are called “elders” by others …
In conclusion, to your final questions: How did I meet Angela? Not only her, but several members in New Brunswick involved with this tragic event, this might be some mystical connection, maybe?
Someone was aware of my past experiences in the well-being of others … I met her [Angela] and her friends, the wives of the other [two] husbands who were killed, and the fire department members who were involved during that night.
The healing process takes time.
I still mourn the loss of family members and friends who I worked with in the past. I always keep their memories alive in how they lived, and how they made a big difference in my life.
Janice Landry, this is healing.
All my relation,
Joe Michael
Elder Joe’s wisdom about healing, history, and helping others is powerful. His willingness to share his insight, culture, and teachings, combined with his humbleness, always shone through; he never once referred to himself as an Elder either via phone, email, or in person. However, he clearly is one: a man of humility, grace, ability, and great substance.
Angela Gevaudan said it was Joe who reached out to her, in the fall of 2014, wanting to help the RCMP families. “He saw the need to do something to honour the boys and to help us heal,” she said.
Joe also travelled to the Gevaudan home in New Brunswick where he met with Angela, Nadine Larche, and Rachael Ross to perform a “Feeding the Moon” ceremony for them. Angela said the ceremony is done to create, promote, and underline hope in times of despair. I did not ask her any further details as it was a private moment with the Elder.
Besides Joe’s handmade gifts of the three small talking sticks, one for each RCMP family, plus the large talking sticks each wife would eventually entrust to another person, Angela said Joe also gave her another enormous gift, which she considers an incredible honour and a “big responsibility.” The Elder has graced Angela with the spirit name White Eagle Dove, for which she said she feels very “privileged.” Angela told me she will work hard not to “dishonour” her new name. The spirit name is perfectly fitting for her, a woman who courageously helps others in the face of her own pain and loss.
As Elder Joe Michael’s talking circle and smudging ceremony concluded, we started to file inside the tent, in the Honour Garden, one by one, in a line, to see the statue for the first time.
As the tent side was drawn back for us to enter, I was immediately struck by the size of the statues – they are life-size. I had not expected them to be so large and detailed. As we went inside, the long line slowly made its way around the perimeter of the monument, as people stood in awe and admired its intricacy. People spoke with reverence and in hushed tones. Everyone was respectful with their time inside the tent. Angela and Emma stood in one corner of the tent talking with people.
I mentioned to a woman standing beside me, whom I did not know, how much I loved the statues and the work of the artist. She said to me, “You’re standing next to him.”
By chance, I happened to be standing next to thirty-five-year-old artist Morgan MacDonald, from Logy Bay, Newfoundland, who works with the Newfoundland Bronze Foundry. Morgan revealed his father, sixty-eight-year-old Bill MacDonald, is originally from Woodstock, New Brunswick, and was a member of the RCMP. Morgan said his father joined the force in New Brunswick but after graduation was immediately stationed in Newfoundland where he served with the RCMP until he retired.
Morgan’s father told him many stories about his time as an officer, but all of them were light-hearted and funny. Working on the Moncton monument and getting to know the families and officers has led the artist to have a revelation about his own father. “I’m beginning to suspect, as I get older, there’s some terrible stories, too, that he doesn’t really share.”
Inside the tent, I started asking Morgan questions about the monument. He politely answered each one, but at the same time was also shaking hands and nodding at people as the Gevaudan family’s many supporters came up to congratulate him for his work. Morgan was clearly relieved and moved by their reactions.
During the course of its creation, each of the three families took turns flying to Newfoundland to meet with Morgan. They visited the bronze foundry and watched him work. They told hi
m stories about their loved ones, the officers, and in turn, he worked tiny details of those stories and their private lives into the monument. Some of those details have been explained publicly, in the many media stories which accompanied the unveiling. Morgan said other details remain private between him and the families.
CBC New Brunswick reporter Todd O’Brien filed this web story June 5, 2016, the day following the public unveiling. It reads, in part:
“Newfoundland sculptor Morgan MacDonald touches the arm of one of three Codiac Regional RCMP officers he has immortalized in bronze. ‘My hope is that it brings some peace, some healing to the community,’ he said …
“What MacDonald has created is a life-like portrayal of the officers and an intimate look into what was important to them in their lives.
“The men stand in a circle, back to back. Larche is in formal serge, while Ross and Gevaudan are both wearing their daily uniforms.
“Const. Douglas James Larche’s three young daughters are represented by ballet slippers at the base of the monument. But it’s when viewers look down that they learn about the men behind the uniforms. Larche, who was a jogger, has an imprint of his running shoe at the base of his statue. Near his boots are three tiny ballet slippers, with a sprinkle of glitter dust. ‘His three daughters were so special to him and so there’s three ballet slippers in the monument representing each one of the girls,’ said MacDonald.
“As viewers walk around the sculpture, their eyes are drawn to the hat in Gevaudan’s hand. On the inside of the hat is a picture of a smiling Gevaudan and his stepdaughter.
“… Ross was a dog handler and outdoor enthusiast. The footprints of his dog, Danny, are there, along with those of his two children and wife. There are also footprints of animals, such as deer. ‘The theme around that is prints – prints that we leave in our lives and the experiences we have, and the legacies that we’ve left.’
The Legacy Letters Page 11
