Timothy

Jack's Twisted Kingdom
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2008-12-12 12:14:05 (UTC)

I had a father? It's a sad tale

Brian Ross Blanchard, died in June or July of the year I was
born, which was, about a month to two months later. He was a
prison guard at the BC penitentiary, on leave, and if I've
pieced it together correctly, he accidentally shot a prison
guard, or had been involved in the shooting death and then
shot himself soon after wards.

There was an article in the Peak, the U of Simon Fraser in
which they mention that, he had been on leave at the time,
about a month after a riot at the prison in which he worked
at. and then a few short weeks later, they announce his
death in the paper.

This is quite the revelation. The things I don't know,
honestly, I know what I've typed, just now, really, which is
really nothing. He was born in the 40's, his name was Brian,
he died. That's what I know. Thats what you know, you know
largely what I know. My mothers friends, and my grandpapa,
and step grandmother probably know more.

The article I found down at the end is what I'm referring
to, it would in fact fit, exactly why things were so hush
hush around me when I was a kid, and why no one ever spoke
of it.

Interestingly enough, he was also a poet. Go figure. The
irony is staggering.

I'll write more about it whenever I find anything else about
it. Although, to be honest, I haven't cared about any of
this since I was 15. maybe I'll even type out the poem that
was published in the July 16th of the Peak newspaper. I sent
off an email to the editor, who knows maybe simon fraser U
kept archives going all the way back to that point.


Now, I could be wrong, since I am just piecing this all
together through small bits of pieces of paper, an article
from the simon fraser university newspaper, the website
which lists what happened, but since he was on leave, one
can draw the conclusion that he was the one accidentally
shot the guard who died, and various half remembered
anecdotes through the years, the tidbits of various
conversations, and allusions to some dark sinister outcome.

who knows. apparently, everyone but me.

The most disturbing part of it all however. The most
insidious part. Was he had been born in Winnipeg, in 1944.
This, I did not know until just tonight, nor did I know he
was 9 years older than my mother, nor really anything else
for that matter.

Oh, and apparently my mother was a hippie back in the late
60's, an she did her Masters Thesis on Mythology, cited over
60 sources, and apparently only took a year to do it in.
I'd find that impressive, but when it comes to my mother, I
tend to be, wary, of any, sort of.. praise. There are
reasons why I moved out when I was 15, none of them kind. I
might read her thesis, I might burn it, I might do any
number of things with it. I got some pics of me when I was
younger, some pics of my cats which I'm happy about, but
still makes me a bit sad.

The website info,
http://forums.canadiancontent.net/british-columbia/42325-b-c-penitentiary-1975-a.html


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