Roaming Central Canada: August 21-October 4, 2024

On August 21, I quickly crossed into Ontario, and after driving only 250 km, I found a beautiful roadside stop at Dogtooth Lake (near Kenora), so I paused for a restful sleep. The next day, I stopped at the wonderful Terry FOX memorial near Thunder Bay to pay my respects and reflect on what an excellent young fellow he was. He is a true Canadian hero. I make a small donation to the cancer cause and advise the two young woman volunteers to tell my story about cancer in my life (and my family), and I tell them not to load up the “bus of life” with experiences to do later. That time may never happen. Later, I drop into Eagle Canyon near Dorion, which is known as Canada’s longest suspension bridge at 183 meters. I walked across both bridges there and descended intothe canyon for some exercise. I realized on my way up that my cardio was shot! A dirt road spot nearby proved to be quiet and restful. I have a 6.5-hour drive (600 km) to reach my sister Emilie’s place in Timmins, in northern Ontario. I pass an Arctic Watershed sign, which reminds me of how vast Canada is. I see many semi-trucks on the road and signs warning of the danger of moose at night. For fun, I counted 100 westbound semis and 23 cars in 40 minutes (rail strike traffic?). The many small lakes with long reeds sticking out from the shallow portions of these lakes with tiny islands hosting small trees on them, granite cliff bluffs and gneiss outcroppings, are all comforting to the teen part of my brain as I grew up in northern Ontario.

I had yogurt, a banana, and a Harvest Crunch granola mixture for breakfast in my car. Then, I finished shaving my beard and head so I wouldn’t look too grisly to my sister and her family. I arrived at her house just in time for a delicious home-cooked meal. We had roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy and peas and carrots. There was warm apple pie with ice cream for dessert, just like my mom used to make for us.

After staying for two nights, I headed to Sudbury to see my nephew, Jordan BABANDO (Em’s son), for a quick hello and goodbye. I push on to my brother Ed’s place in Bradford, just north of Toronto. I got to use his place as a base for my Ontario visits. I didn’t realize how much the driving had taken a toll on me! I found myself lacking the motivation to do anything. I feel weak and tired. The effort of setting up appointments with strangers and agencies I know little about, combined with moving from parking lots to roadside stops, has really worn me down. The comfort and warmth I experience from Ed’s wonderful family make these feelings even more intense in this contrasting situation. I enjoy the atmosphere of love with deep contentment.

The few slow runs I attempted could have been better! After a few days of relaxing, I finally buckled to work. Emails began to fly back and forth between London, Toronto, Aylmer (Ontario Police College), Kingston, North Bay, and other locations. I started with a drive down to see the London Police Services. London has a population of 450,000. I go on ride-alongs with Sgt. Mike TOUNTAS and later in the evening with Sgt. Ryan WEBER. We talk about the use of force and policing in general, and I tour their jail. Unlike many other agencies, they shy away from joint locking, preferring to use methods of striking mixed in with jiujitsu ground fighting instead. Often, these preferences are influenced by the instructor’s background in martial arts. The next day, I set up a brief meeting with one of their trainers, Chad LAPRISE, so I grabbed a spot in a nearby police dirt overflow lot at 0330 hours.

I met with Chad on the following day. He was a UFC fighter for 6 years. He enjoys ground fighting but acknowledges that it is situational and not ideal for dealing with multiple assailants. He emphasized that control must be established before attempting to handcuff someone. The London Police Service provides its recruits with three weeks of in-house training before attending the mandatory twelve weeks at the Ontario Police College. Their recruits receive an additional 4 weeks of training after the College. Chad liked my idea about establishing some control tactics rules for self-auditing purposes. I drove back to Bradford to have a few rums with my brother Ed as we watched “Idiot Fails” or some other pathetic drivel. This is a setback on my positive vibes for sure.

Ed and I drive to meet one of my oldest friends, Rick, a McMaster grad who resided with me in a men’s dorm, Matthews Hall (1972-1975). He retired from dentistry and now volunteers for a group

that assists communities around the world affected by natural disasters. I have much respect for his endeavours. In Milton, we played virtual golf and had many laughs in the process.

On Sept. 4, I attend the Ontario Police College in the rural town of Aylmer. I meet a great bunch of guys at the OPC: Chris NEWTON, Pete RAMPAT, Director Paul HEBERT, and old-school police trainer Leo LOUCKS (a world champion kickboxer who just got inducted into the Canadian Black Belt Hall of Fame). I watch recruits go through three final scenarios of “unknown trouble” from an elevated position in several scenario rooms (restaurant, living room, etc.). The recruit(s) must deal with problematic arrestees, some brandishing weapons like bats or knives. Each intake has ten classes of 50 recruits, all staggered slightly, with four annual intakes. That’s 2,000 recruits trained annually! Every officer, except those in the RCMP, must complete this training to be certified as a police officer in Ontario. Peter and I have engaging discussions about use-of-force training. I parked my car in a corner lot on campus and chatted with a few instructors the next day, exchanging techniques with them before hitting the road to visit my friend Rick in Thorold again quickly. We both belonged to the McMaster Karate Club, so he understands the concept of using force to a certain degree.

Later that day, I drove to Burlington to meet Kwesi Millington, a former RCMP officer who was convicted of perjury in the Robert Dziekanski taser homicide case at Vancouver Airport on October 14, 2007. This was a complicated situation, but Kwesi and three others were ultimately exonerated (read “Blamed and Broken”). It was a tragic case all around. He engages in motivational speaking about resilience to both kids and corporations. I have great respect for him.

Afterward, I returned to my brother Ed’s place to reflect on all I had experienced over the past few days. I await the realization of other leads. On Sept. 12, I drove a few hours north to attend the North Bay Police Service to meet S/Sgt Vince CORRENTE, and he set me up with a ride-along with Cst. Colin JEROME and later with Cst. Ryan SCHREYER. I see more homelessness, mental illness and drug addiction. What has my old hometown come to? I knocked off the ride-along at 0115 hrs and hit the local Walmart parking lot for a night of sleep, dreaming about my high school years in this fine city.

The leaves are just starting to turn colour. I went to Crystal Cave, a rock and mineral shop near Sundridge, and admired the many beautiful specimens on display and for sale. I was a rockhound as a teenager, and this interest in rocks led me to a B.Sc. (double honours) degree in Geography and Geology (’77). The following year, I earned a B.Ed. Degree (Geography and Phys. Ed.). When I graduated and moved to Vancouver, there were no jobs for teachers, so |I joined policing after hearing a radio ad about the VPD hiring. In those days, the recruiting pool was just that, not a puddle as it is now. I had to fight 250 applicants for my job. I would use my B.Ed. Degree while teaching martial arts and later for use-of-force tactics and drug awareness education.

I could not arrange a visit with the Toronto Police Service, so I dropped into my old neighbourhoods, the “Concrete Jungle,” in the Lawrence Heights area near the Yorkdale Shopping Plaza. As a kid, I watched this huge mall being built in wheat fields near my home (it is the largest in Canada and one of the largest in the world). Everything is so shockingly small in scale. My world was so tiny in reality to my memory. I keep rolling east to Kingston to meet an old Skid Road beat buddy, Scott FRASER, now Chief of the Kingston Police Service. I stay at his apartment, and we have lots of laughs about “the good old days.” The next day, he set me up with Sgt. Geoff GRAHAM of the Training Section.

They only put through 6-15 recruits annually (through the Ontario Police College plus a few days of supplemental training), as they only have 250 members. I jump into Cst. Braden MERCIER’s patrol car at 1300 hrs, Sept. 19, and we soon go looking for a suicidal male. A very recent double murder scene was still being processed at “The Hub,” a homelessness camp that, not surprisingly, is the centre of much drug use and mental illness. I switch to a nightshift car with Cst. James DROPPO. After a breach of parole and car vehicle rollover, I returned to the Chief’s place to retire at 0200 hours. The next day, I went for another ride-along with rookie Jesse VANDERMEER for an evening shift. I told him that we are society’s babysitters. If we respected everyone else’s bodily autonomy, property, privacy, and, to some extent, their feelings, police would only be needed for accidents and natural disasters. But no, we must have a guidebook called the Criminal Code of Canada to help steer our behaviours. Drugs, mental illness, and, most importantly, a lack of proper upbringing all rot our communities at the core. The breakdown of the family unit and decent social mores allow crime and social decay to fester. A cab driver was spoken to about his dangerous driving, and another suicidal male (with a lengthy hospital visit) killed the shift. I make my way back to Scott’s place by 0330 hours.

In the next few days, I visit some relatives (my dear aunt recently passed away at age 100) between my Planet Fitness workouts. On Sept. 24, I head to Ottawa, a force of about 1,000 members, to meet S/Sgt. Jeff MORIN. I am matched with the neighbourhood team members Sgt. Sam BADRAN and Cst. Jamie COLLINS for an afternoon shift ride-along. They confront some mentally ill people, and later, we attend a protest briefing with the Crowd Control Unit (Public Safety Unit) about yet another pro-Palestine protest of several hundred people, some banging drums and all chanting their tired denunciations against Israel (“From the river to the sea, all of Palestine must be free…”). I meet up with Sgt. Bobby PROULX, who I shadowed during the two-hour event consisting of noise making and traffic blocking as the slow 4 km walk to the Parliament Buildings and then to the Israeli Embassy. They remain loud but peaceful. Two hours is more than enough for me. How they endure this repetitive tedium is beyond me. Bobby says they are starting to train defensive tactics while wearing their patrol gear. Good idea! I retire to “Trainyard” Walmart to retire at 2230 hrs, but I have trouble getting to sleep until 0100 hrs…

The next day, Sgt. Dan THOMPSON meets me and gives me a building tour, and then I watch some man-with-a-knife training drills. The role players are officers who have had some training to perform this duty. S/Sgt. MORIN agrees to introduce me to Martin ELIE in the Surete de Quebec. I camp behind an Esso gas station and ponder my next moves. The following day, I drove through Rigaud, Quebec, past the Canadian Border Services Agency training academy while lamenting my lack of contact there. I decided to approach the front gate, but security could not reveal who the Director was, nor could he provide me with any contact information on this person. I stay in another gas station lot with a few semi-trucks. As the end of September is quickly closing on me, I find it is getting cooler at night now.

The next day, I chatted with the Dept. of Natural Resource Officer Paul STEADMAN, and we agreed to meet up when I got to Nova Scotia: Justice Institute British Columbia use-of-force trainer and personal friend from Transit Police, Cst. Sandra LaBRIE hooked me up with a few trainers at the Ecole Nationale de Police du Quebec (provincial police academy) in Nicolet.  I stayed in a Walmart parking lot in Sorel-Tracey and then the local Info Centre parking lot in the small city of Nicolet for the weekend while I waited for the Quebec Police Academy to open on Monday, September 30. I use the great weather and picnic tables to try and catch up with my blog. The Middle East is preparing for WW III. I worry that this will be a reality if TRUMP does not get elected. I talk myself into a more positive frame of mind and rest peacefully as possible.

I have trouble with my arthritic right shoulder, and my portable CPAP mask tore (for my snoring), but other than that, the weekend was pleasant enough. I get lonely (I am now 4,835 km from home), and travelling can be challenging sometimes, but I often give myself pep talks. I won’t have another chance to do this, say, 10 years from now. I went to the academy and met Secretary Natalie and instructor Bruno POULIN. They graciously showed me around their facility, which consisted of a repurposed (1969) old building. Recruits go through 15-week courses of this training in classes of 36 at 5-week intervals. There is also a 3-year policing program that features 50 hours of defensive tactics to complement the 70 hrs they receive in their provincially mandated training (as with the Ontario Police College). I saw several fair-sized matted training halls on mats softened by a 2”x4” latticed underlying the plywood flooring under standard judo mats and a large hardwood floor gym. One of their classrooms featured an actual train car, which the renovations were built around. I met trainer Francois LAVOIE (no police background), who allowed me to watch their tactical vehicle stops and subject removals in their parking lot. I chat with instructor Benoit LECLERC. They do not use the twist lock, so I show a trainer a method of vehicle extraction featuring this technique. They have several houses and rooms fitted for reality-based training scenarios manned by paid and trained role players (as we do at home). I met Capitaine Alain BERNIER from the police academy in Quebec City (Service de Police de la Ville de Quebec City – SPVQ), and we agreed to meet at his institution the next day. I hit “World Gym” and crashed hard at 2240 hrs in yet another Walmart parking lot.