A story behind every photograph

originally written in January 2007

The other day I picked up the newspaper, and six of the women allegedly murdered by Robert Pickton stared back at me. Only one was smiling. A hint that there once was something in life worth smiling about. The others looked wan. And old beyond their years. And devoid of spirit, as if their lives had been taken from them long before their horrific deaths. I suppose that’s what a life of drugs and prostitution does to someone.

But what lay behind these haunting faces? Surely their lives weren’t always like this. I was reminded of a similar photo I saw in the newspaper about 15 years ago. It was of a childhood friend, Vicki, who had been murdered. Her body was found in a dumpster in a Vancouver alley. She too had fallen into a miserable life of drugs and prostitution.

When I recall that picture of Vicki, it looked as if someone had stolen her spirit. She looked helpless and pathetic. It would have been easy for people to dismiss her as another drug addicted prostitute. I’m sure many did. But it troubled me that this was the last image the world saw of her. It wasn’t always this way.

I first met Vicki in grade two, where we both grew up in Victoria. I can’t remember how our friendship developed. We both had the same boundless energy, and having three sisters, maybe she saw in me the brother she never had. Whatever the case, we were inseparable. She was a beautiful, precocious girl, with long blondish hair. Vicki spent many evenings at our home for dinner, and it seemed that every summer day we were together--whether swimming at the local pool, or joining our family for camping trips and other vacations. In our backyard was a large tree that towered above our house. We would often climb to the top, where we had an expansive view of the city. I can’t remember what we talked about, but we would stay up there for what seemed like hours.

Vicki was a good student. In fact, I was always envious, when we would compare grades. She enjoyed sports, and excelled at gymnastics and cross-country running. And she swam miles ahead of me in swimming lessons. Mind you, her competitive nature and endless energy often landed her in the Emergency department. Whether a broken arm after falling from a tree, finger fractures, or a bloodied nose after taking a baseball in the face, she was always full of heart and enjoyed everything life had to offer. She took great pride in helping people, and participated in many volunteer activities as a Girl Guide.

After grade seven our lives went separate ways. We went to different high schools, and didn’t keep in touch. I did learn that she became pregnant while still in school. How difficult it must have been to be a mother at such a young age. Knowing her determined character, it wasn’t a surprise when I found out she tried finishing her education at an alternate school. I didn’t hear of her again until the night her mother called to share the tragic news of her death. Some might say that an untimely death was inevitable because of her destructive lifestyle. Maybe so. But despite her shortcomings, Vicki began life full of promise, much like I imagine the six women pictured in the newspaper.

Maybe it’s a good thing that our lives took different paths. That way I have a mind full of wonderful memories to carry with me. Thankfully, childhood innocently protects us from the darkness that exists in this world. What I’m left with are recollections of laughter and two kids being silly together. It makes me smile to think of those days so long ago. I wonder if in her darkest days, Vicki looked back on our young days and smiled too.

I run my hands across the six pictures. Like most people I know nothing of their lives, but if they were anything like my friend, then their lives were more than a single, sad image placed on the front of newspaper. Long before drugs ate away at them, and long before someone so cruelly ended their lives, I hope there was a time of innocence when as a child they laughed and lived life without a care for the future. And I hope someone out there has a mind full of wonderful memories like I do.