Remember the good

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 10/09/2011 (5321 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Last week I got a lot of emails about April Hornbrook. Many people wanted to share what they remembered about the 24-year-old woman who was slain a few weeks ago.

I also spoke to her moshom (grandpa) who lives down the street from me.

Hornbrook was Ojibwa, and her family bloodlines can be traced back to the Jackhead and Sagkeeng First Nations. She was known to have a quiet, gentle smile.

Hornbrook grew up in foster care, so a few years ago she searched out her family in Winnipeg. She tried to get to know them as best she could.

She was also a fighter, doing battle with personal addictions. Hornbrook was working hard to live a good life and get her four-year-old son back.

I heard there was going to be a candlelight vigil on Wednesday night for Hornbrook at the spot where she died, so I went to pay my respects.

As it was many times before, grassroots women organized the evening vigil. The well-respected Chickadee Richard stepped up and put together the ceremony, along with Cheryl James.

When I arrived, there were about 80 people, but the crowd soon swelled to about 100. It was a good turnout. I’ve seen fewer people at some protests. There were people of all ages, white and brown, and lots of children and babies, too. Everyone picked up a candle and stood in a circle.

It was at the vigil that I was introduced to April Hornbrook’s sister, Kelly. I’d heard from several people they were very close.

Kelly asked me not to write something sad, so that’s what I’m going to try to do. She’s right — even under the circumstances, who would want to be remembered sadly?

Everyone in the circle was smudged, candles were lit, and the ceremony began.

There were about a dozen female singers, seven of them with hand drums and a few with rattles. The singers’ voices rang clear and bright. Nobody could ask for better singers. They even sang a woman warrior song for Hornbrook.

One relative said a few words about her and wanted her killer found so her family can have justice. Then Hornbrook’s mother spoke and shared her grief with the people in the circle around her.

Then a slow procession of people took tobacco and went to say a prayer at the spot where Hornbrook’s body was found.

I was wrong about where I thought she’d died; our prayers were laid to rest under some graffiti against the yellow brick wall of the warehouse by the Main Street entrance of the path. There were flowers, and someone perhaps unwisely had laid down some drug paraphernalia.

But I promised not to write sad things, so I will leave you with this memory.

A photograph of April Hornbrook was passed around the circle that was more recent than others I’d seen with news stories.

In this photo, April is still wearing glasses but she has long dark hair, past her shoulders. She has on a brown striped shirt with a shiny logo in the middle of it. Her smile is genuine, fresh and at ease. And it’s a good way to remember her.

She looks at peace in that photo, and hopefully she’s found that peace again.

Another woman I’ve been talking to is organizing one more tribute.

If her family gives their blessing there will be a small memorial put up on the spot where Hornbrook died. Like memorials made for others who have been killed, April’s memorial will be a way to honour her memory, as well as be a beacon for others to take care.

It will be modest. No marble plaques, just a cross made of wood, like those you often see on the side of the road. It will mark the spot where April died, and then, after a year, it will be time to put it away.

 

Colleen Simard is a Winnipeg writer.

 

colleen.simard@gmail.com