Seven Fallen Feathers: Racism, Death, and Hard Truths in a Northern City

The first of the seven fallen feathers, Jethro started at the newly opened Dennis Franklin Cromarty as a ninth grader. Like many other students, he was from a small northern community but moved to Thunder Bay to pursue his education. He boarded with his aunt, Dora Morris, who lived on the Fort William side of town. Jethro lived with Dora for much of his youth when his parents had marital issues. Talaga describes Jethro as “a kind soul, always finding new animals to befriend and bring home” (106), including an owl. Dora became extremely worried when Jethro missed curfew on the evening of October 28, 2000, since this was out of character for him. She searched for him for days and filed a missing person’s report with the police. Initially, the police didn’t take Jethro’s case seriously. They told Dora, “He’s just out there partying like every other Native kid” (110). Police recovered Jethro’s body from the river several weeks after he disappeared. He was just 15 years old. At the funeral home, Dora discovered bruises and cigarette burn marks on his body. Several years after Jethro’s death, a bar patron confessed to his cousin Nathan that he killed Jethro. Nevertheless, the police claimed that Jethro’s death was due to accidental drowning. His death, like those of the other fallen feathers, reveals how Canadian police and the Canadian justice system disregard Indigenous people because of apathy and racism. Jethro’s family participated in the 2015 inquest.

After spending his entire life in a hospital, Jordan River Anderson died from a rare muscle disorder, called Carey-Fineman-Ziter syndrome, in 2005. He was five years old. His parents wanted to bring him back home to Norway House First Nation. However, the federal and provincial governments fought for years over who would cover his home-care costs, since he was an Indigenous child. Jordan died in a hospital hundreds of miles from his home. To prevent a death like his from happening again, the House of Commons adopted Jordan’s Principal in 2007.

A child social worker and well-known Indigenous rights advocate and orator, Cindy Blackstock filed a human rights complaint—on behalf of the Assembly of First Nations and the First Nations Child and Family Caring Society—against the Canadian federal government on February 23, 2007, in the aftermath of Robyn Harper’s death. Blackstock founded the First Nations Child and Family Caring Society in memory of a young Indigenous boy named Jordan River Anderson. She argued that the federal government “was racially discriminating against Indigenous kids by providing inequitable levels of child welfare funding to Indigenous children and their families” (202), which impacted all aspects of their lives, including substandard educational facilities that continued to widen the educational gap as well as unequal health and social-welfare programs.

The grand chief of the political organization Nishnawbe Aski Nation, Stan Beardy came from a family in a small, remote community in northern Ontario, accessible only by plane. He moved his family, including his son, Daniel, to Thunder Bay because he took the position of grand chief. Daniel attended Dennis Franklin Cromarty High School. He loved hockey and hoped to play for a professional team after his high school graduation. His dreams were never realized because he was beaten to death at the age of 19. Daniel was found unconscious at a house party in Fort William First Nation—and later succumbed to his injuries—on August 1, 2004.

Stan couldn’t let go of his son’s death or forget the deaths of the seven other Indigenous children who died under questionable circumstances in Thunder Bay. For this reason, he was the first person to encourage Talaga to investigate the deaths of the “seven fallen feathers.”

Standing on the shores of Thunder Bay, one can see a rock formation sitting in Lake Superior known as The Sleeping Giant. This land formation looks like a giant who laid down in the water to sleep and never woke up. An Ojibwe legend explains that this formation was once the giant Nanabijou, a god who protected the Ojibwe people and gifted them with silver. He turned to stone after a Oceti Sakowin man told Europeans where they could find his silver. In fact, the land formation sits atop a silver mine. Nanabijou laid down to protect his gift. Because of the betrayal, the Ojibwe lost their greatest protector. The deaths of the seven fallen feathers occurred in the shadow of Nanabijou.

Alvin Fiddler was the next grand chief of Nishnawbe Aski Nation after Stan Beardy. One of the key issues that he focused on was reducing death by suicide among Indigenous teenagers, who experience the highest rates of death by suicide in the West. Fiddler played an important role in Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Committee. Talaga notes that “Fiddler co-ordinated regional meetings and he oversaw the testimony of all the survivors in Ontario” (53). In addition, three years before the death of Jordan Wabasse, Fiddler warned school officials at Dennis Franklin Cromarty (DFC) High School that they needed to do more to prevent children from dying in Thunder Bay. He encouraged Talaga to begin her investigation with Chanie Wenjack.

The fourth of the seven fallen feathers, Robyn Harper was close to both her parents, Andrew and Tina, but especially her father, who has paralysis from the waist down in a work-related accident. Tina wanted Robyn to attend a closer school, but the school didn’t have room for another student. In fact, Tina was terrified of sending Robyn to Dennis Franklin, having heard about three Indigenous children dying (Jethro, Curran, and Paul) and other stories of neglect.

Robyn was new to Thunder Bay and, to fit in, she went out drinking one evening. She asked Skye Kakegamic, another teenager at Dennis Franklin, to promise to watch over her and make sure she got home safely. Robyn became heavily inebriated. Skye called two Northern Nishnawbe Education Council (NNEC) members—including Robyn’s boarding parent, Cheyenne Linklater—to pick them up. They brought Robyn home and placed her on the floor. The two then went back out on nighttime patrol to search for more Indigenous children to bring home. Cheyenne later claimed that she didn’t pick up Robyn from the bus terminal. Instead, she didn’t get home until four o’ clock in the morning. She checked on Robyn, and Robyn was still alive.

By the morning of January 12, 2007, Robyn was dead. She died from acute alcohol poisoning. Although the NNEC is underfunded and overtaxed, a lawyer in 2015 blamed the NNEC for Robyn’s death, believing that Cheyenne and David should have taken Robyn to the hospital. Robyn’s family participated in the 2015 inquest.

The sixth of the seven fallen feathers, Kyle Morrisseau came from a family of famous Indigenous artists in Canada. His father, Christian, is a painter and had a deep bond with Kyle. His grandfather, Norval Morrisseau, was one of the most prolific and famous Ojibwe artists. Kyle, too, was an artist. He loved school and was exceptionally kind. Kyle was nervous about traveling to Thunder Bay without his family, and to help ease him into a new city, Christian moved to Thunder Bay with him. Christian eventually moved back home, and Kyle stayed in the city to attend Dennis Franklin. His behavior radically changed, however: He began missing classes and curfews and started drinking. Kyle disappeared on October 26, 2009. Police investigated numerous supposed sightings of Kyle, but none turned out to be true. When authorities recovered Kyle’s body (from the river), it showed signs of physical abuse, but police were unable to determine the cause of death. This ruling infuriated Christian, who wanted justice for his son. Kyle’s family participated in the 2015 inquest.

The third of the seven fallen feathers, Paul, like several of the other students, traveled to Thunder Bay to attend Dennis Franklin because his local high school stopped at grade 10 and was extremely underfunded. Because of his substandard early education, homesickness, and interactions in racist episodes with white residents, Paul had difficulty adjusting to life in Thunder Bay. He lived with 10 different boarding parents, several of whom were neglectful, before his mother, Maryanne, came to stay with him. Paul was thrilled and began to open up to his mom. He confessed that he tried drugs and alcohol to fit in with the other kids, who made fun of him for being a “goody two-shoes” (167). In addition, he acknowledged that his parent’s divorce was difficult for him but spoke to his father, who was in a long-term care facility because of Parkinson’s disease, several days before he disappeared. Maryanne doesn’t know what they talked about. Paul collapsed and died instantly in his kitchen on the evening of November 11, 2006. He was 21 years old. Authorities destroyed evidence pertaining to his death after a set period of time. Thus, Maryanne still doesn’t know the cause of his death.

Maryanne participated in the 2015 inquest in hopes of getting justice for Paul. She was familiar with grief, as Talaga notes:

Her sixty years on this planet have been full of hard living, untold sadness, and trauma that would wither lesser people. She has a quiet grace that wraps her in a shell of solitude. She laughs in an almost singsong, melodic whisper, her dark eyes showing sparks of light sprinkled over pools of sorrow (159).

She’s a residential school survivor, and her sister, Sarah, was taken by police and never seen again. The police accused Sarah of participating in several break-ins. They took her to another school, but never told Maryanne or her family what or where the school was. Sarah was last seen in Thunder Bay at the age of 43. She’s now one of the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women and Girls. Sarah’s disappearance and death haunt Maryanne. She has a reoccurring dream about her sister, which makes her believe that Sarah was murdered by the infamous serial killer Robert Pickton.

Maryanne was home when Paul suddenly collapsed and died on the kitchen floor while making himself a snack after hanging out with friends. The coroner ruled the cause of his death as unknown. Nine years later, Maryanne found out that the authorities didn’t know how her son died. While she fought for his case to be reopened, the evidence relating to Paul’s death was thrown out after a certain period of time. Thus, she still doesn’t know how her son died.

The last of the seven fallen feathers, Jordan Wabasse was from Webequie First Nation, which is located in remote northern Ontario and accessible only by plane. Talaga describes Jordan as “a quiet, polite kid who kept to himself” (27). He was extremely tall and weighed 200 pounds, which led many to think he was an adult. However, he was just a 15-year-old boy.

The high school at Webequie had few course options, and hockey was played outside. Jordan dreamed of attending school with more courses and playing hockey at an indoor rink, so he begged his mom to let him go to Thunder Bay. His mom was initially hesitant but allowed her son to leave home and head to the city in 2010. Once he arrived at Thunder Bay, Jordan enrolled in the Indigenous-run Matawa Learning Center. The school accepted only students who demonstrated that they could handle an individualized learning program and were responsible. As Talaga notes, “Jordan was both” (26). In Thunder Bay, Jordan boarded with a cousin named Clifford Wabasse and his wife, Jessica. Clifford and Jessica housed another Indigenous teenager named Shane Troutlake as well.

Talaga describes in detail the last day anyone saw Jordan, which was February 7, 2011. Clifford saw Jordan and Shane leave for the bus station; they had to take a bus to get to Matawa Learning Center. Several friends and footage from mall, bus, and transit videos all placed Jordan in various spots around the community until 10 o’ clock that night. Ninety-two days passed before Jordan’s body was recovered from the river. Several rumors surrounded Jordan’s death, including that the Native Syndicate mistook him for someone who owed them money and killed him. The Thunder Bay Police only cursorily followed up on these rumors. Once his body was found, they immediately ruled out foul play. Jordan’s heartbreaking story emphasizes how the Thunder Bay Police grossly mismanaged his case because racism was rampant in the police force. Jordan’s family participated in the 2015 inquest.

The second of the seven fallen feathers, Curran Strang traveled several hundred miles from his home in Pikangikum First Nation to attend Dennis Franklin. Strang struggled with his studies, in part because his elementary school education woefully underprepared him for high school. Children from Pik, like Curran, face a wider education gap than other Indigenous children at Dennis Franklin because of these disparities in early childhood education.

Talaga describes Curran as “about five foot seven. He liked wearing baggy pants that hung low in the crotch and had blond streaks in his dark brown hair: “He was social, liked to talk to the girls and joke around, and stood out in the crowd with his wide smile” (140). Curran was religious. He enjoyed attending a Christian youth group on the weekends and singing gospel songs with this friend James Benson. Because of homesickness and the challenge of facing grief after close family and friends died by suicide, Curran began to use alcohol and got into trouble with the police and school on multiple occasions. A year before he died, he asked his counselor for help, but the underfunded NNEC was unable to provide the support systems he needed. No one knows what happened to him the night he disappeared—September 22, 2005. Police initially dismissed his disappearance, suggesting that he ran away. His body was recovered from the Kam river several days later. Despite the mysterious circumstances surrounding his disappearance and death, the Thunder Bay Police ruled the cause of death accidental drowning. Once again, the Thunder Bay Police’s disinterest in determining what really happened to Curran highlights how centuries of institutional apathy and racism continue to negatively impact Indigenous communities in Canada. Curran’s family didn’t participate in the 2015 inquest, saying that their “grief was still too raw” (274).

The fifth of the seven fallen feathers, Reggie disappeared in October 2007 after drinking with his brother—Ricki Strang—and friends. Ricki blacked out and woke up in the middle of the icy McIntyre River. He called for his brother but didn’t see him and returned home, hoping that Reggie was just somewhere “chilling” (211). As days passed after Reggie’s disappearance, Ricki sensed that his brother was still in the water near where Ricki had come to. Ricki didn’t remember how he and his brother ended up in the river. Authorities removed Reggie’s body from the river within a week after his disappearance, and police ruled his cause of death accidental drowning despite several suspicious pieces of evidence that indicated foul play, including the fact that both boys were strong swimmers and that their backpacks, which they were wearing that night, were missing. Like the families of the other seven fallen feathers, Reggie’s family tried to convince Thunder Bay’s police to thoroughly investigate Reggie’s disappearance and death. Indigenous elders called for an inquest after Reggie’s death to determine why five Indigenous children died in Thunder Bay within less than 10 years. Reggie’s family participated in the 2015 inquest. In fact, his mom started the inquest process shortly after Reggie’s death.