A few days ago, I signed my last coroner’s report. I am very moved by this since I will have investigated nearly 250 deaths over the past five years.
During my first call, in 2017, I quickly realized that I was entering a universe that was unknown to me until then. A universe where cases of putrefaction and hanging are part of everyday life. A universe where we testify to the infinite sadness of people who see no other way out than to kill themselves and where we testify to the deep sorrow of losing a loved one accidentally or unexpectedly.
Some deaths mark us more than others for all kinds of reasons that are specific to us. I will remember this cyclist who died on the 19e Avenue in Rosemont in a hurry to get to work on a summer morning. Life stopped that morning. I will remember the sadness in the eyes of the police at the death scene, the confusion that reigned.
I have worked so hard to make recommendations that could prevent other similar deaths. But there were still other similar deaths.
I will remember this beautiful young girl who died because of her boyfriend’s recklessness at the wheel. Every time I go shopping where she worked, with my own daughter, I think of her and her life that ended unfairly.
I will remember this mother who lost her son unexpectedly. A 21-year-old who had a congenital heart defect. The surprise of this death and the deep sadness that followed.
Distress and loneliness
The suicides. At almost all my guards. The life that stops in front of the metro cars, at the bottom of a balcony. Hangings, hangings, hangings.
One-third of deaths investigated by coroners are suicides.
Young people, old people. Women, men. All they have in common is their deep distress. When will there be scientific advances that will allow us to anticipate and treat this evil of living that afflicts so many people?
And people who die alone. The mail is piling up at the door, the car is no longer cleared of snow, the smells are spreading, the neighbors notify the police. A classic story that repeats itself. An elderly person who fell and died following an involuntary fast, unable to move.
And sometimes a love story. The story of a middle-aged woman who rubbed shoulders with a man who walked home every morning at dawn. One gloomy morning, he is hit by a car. She will never have received his visit that morning. This story touched me so much. A story made so romantic by its simplicity. He would walk to her house, they would have their coffee and chat. She would then drive him home and the next day he would find her again. Until that morning when the coffee stayed cold on the table.
The vocation of coroner does not leave us, even when we leave the function of coroner. I myself left the function to take up new challenges, but I would like to pay tribute to all those who accompany the coroners on a daily basis, especially the attendants at the morgue, the police officers who devote themselves to accompanying us in our quest for truth, pathologists, toxicologists. I was also fortunate to have extraordinary mentors: Dr.r Jean Brochu and M.e Luc Malouin, Deputy Chief Coroner. And also a dedicated Chief Coroner who listens to everyone, Ms.e Pascale Descary.
And what about my extraordinary colleagues who devote themselves every day to elucidating all these deaths for the peace of mind of the families who have lost a loved one? You are real heroes. Long live you all.
To the 247 souls I accompanied, rest in peace; and their loved ones, good luck!