Not So Merry, After All

Over the past few days, I have been very apprehensive about writing this next blog entry, as I do not want anyone to misinterpret my intentions. Since I have been unable to get this topic out of my head, I'm going to take my chances and write it anyway. I do want to add, however, that I do not know any facts of this case beyond what I have heard in the media, nor do I, in any way, accuse any particular person of being responsible or having any involvement in this crime.

December 2005 was a great time for my family. It was my baby boy's first Christmas, the kids had loads of gifts under the tree, and I made my first big Christmas dinner. At the time, we lived in a nice little subdivision in Timberlea, and we liked to drive around to look at all the brightly decorated houses. On the 27th, my husband went Boxing Day shopping in Bayers Lake, and I baked his birthday cake (he was celebrating his....ahem....seventh consecutive "28th birthday" the following day). I remember looking at the clock several times that afternoon, wondering if I would finish his cake before he returned home.

On the morning of the 28th, the first thing I noticed outside was a police cruiser. Since seeing the police was a rarity on our street, I found it even more strange to see several of them drive by within an hour or two, as well as an RCMP helicopter overhead. When my husband called home from work, I told him about the noticeable police presence, and he dropped the bomb on me: a body had been found in a car parked at the school. A what? A body? In Timberlea?!? I didn't believe him. I humoured him and hung up.

His claim was confirmed on the news that evening. Paula Gallant, originally from Cape Breton, a teacher at Beechville-Lakeside-Timberlea school, mother of a baby girl, had been murdered. I was shocked, confused and horrified. Over the next few days, weeks, and months, I began to follow the story as details were released, as I'm sure most residents of Timberlea did. My son attended BLT, where Ms. Gallant taught grade three. The school, and her house, were so close to mine, that anyone with a good arm could throw a rock and hit either building. This crime was a little too close to home for my liking, a feeling I shared with, I'm sure, plenty of others.

What made it even more terrible for me was the fact that she had a baby the same age as mine. The thought of a mother being taken away from a child that age was heartbreaking. It still is. If anything threatened my ability to come home to my kids, I would scream and fight with such fury that my attackers would probably flee, fearing for their lives. I can't help but think that, while I was baking a cake and looking at the clock in the early evening of December 27th, 2005, Ms. Gallant was doing just that, fighting for her life. It bothers me to think about that.

And here we are, almost two years later, and her killer is still roaming free. Maybe driving past us on the highway, maybe behind us in line at the grocery store, nobody knows. Her little girl is without a mother, her sisters and family are still grieving, and I'm still at home thinking about it, often. As much as I hate wondering what happened to that poor woman, two other points make me even crazier. My preamble and question is this: we lived in a community where everyone knew your business. They knew what kind of underwear you wore by looking at your clothes hanging out on the line. They knew if the neighbors' teenaged kids got home at 3am. They knew if the guy in the blue house had a drug problem, if the lady who drove the white Malibu was cheating on her husband, and if the people with the loud Yorkshire terrier screamed at their kids all the time. After the fact, the neighborhood hairdressers, storekeepers, and busy-bodies whispered rampant speculation and knew all the comings and goings at Ms. Gallant's house. My question is, how is it possible that so many people are so nosy, observant and intrusive, but NOT A SINGLE PERSON SAW ANYTHING THAT DAY WHICH WOULD HELP THE POLICE?? From what I heard and read, whoever was responsible for Ms. Gallant's death returned her car to BLT, a very visible school parking lot, empty during Christmas vacation, and drove away in another vehicle. I'd be willing to bet that, had someone been parked there for an illicit rendezvous of some sort, people up one street and down another would know all the details by the next morning. But how did no one see anything in THIS case, when it matters? Very frustrating.

And another thing. There are cases in the past few years which have not left the forefront of the media for more than a few weeks. The only place I have read about possible breaks in the Gallant case is, sadly, in "Frank" magazine. I'm sure this fact must infuriate her family. Had I been the victim of a horrible crime like this, I like to think that my husband would not rest or shut up until the killer was apprehended. He would be crawling up the leg of Steve Murphy's pants to get on the 6pm news every night, just to remind people of what happened and how they might be able to help. Ms. Gallant's sisters have seemed very diligent, but there is only so much that one or two women can do. It is up to everyone else, Paula Gallant's neighbors, friends, colleagues, and mourners, to keep her case in the forefront of our minds and, hopefully, the media. Someone knows something, and with enough scrutiny, pressure, protest, and persistance, that someone or something will eventually surface.

Until it does, I will keep Ms. Gallant, her daughter, and her family in my thoughts. I implore you to do the same.