Warning: this is not for the squeamish. Do not read on if you are not ready to handle some awful content.
The forces that lord over this site might object, so please read it now, as it could disappear at any time.
Some notes about the essay: the victim's impression that the miscreants were later blown up a car explosion does not appear to be borne out in fact. No such explosion can be found in any local newspaper record.
There was a Billy Brown in those circles but he could not have been involved as he was killed five years earlier. He was not connected to sexual assault that we know of.
The author was inspired to write this in hopes that it could help solve the murder of Sharron Prior, so that is why she references that case.
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I truly feel it is my moral duty to come forward with one of my longest kept secrets, to hopefully give your family some peace and closure It has only recently occurred to me that my story and Sharron’s may be connected in some way.
It was 1978 or 1979, late spring/early summer, I believe I was 16, I was standing on the corner of Wellington and Charron in Point St. Charles, waiting for a Pontiac taxi or the bus, whichever showed up first.G had left my Da's house and asked me to carry something to a bar downtown for him... I said sure!
He was meeting X & Y.
As I was waiting... this car kept trolling past. At first I paid no attention. Then on the fourth pass I started to get worried and uncomfortable. I felt them looking me over.
No bus yet and no Pontiac at the stand on the corner? It was too weird for words…
On the fifth pass they came on my side of the street. They slowed and were about to go through the light when they slid back parked and two of them jumped out of the car (the passenger in the back and the one in the front), and ran up to me. They held a knife to my throat! I remember it was quite long and had an orange handle! Like a hunting or fishing knife…
They threw me into the backseat of the car and sped away, I was sandwiched in between two pretty big guys. There were four men in the car…
Just past the bridge going towards downtown one guy in the backseat said “stop now! let me the fuck out! I don’t want no part of this one!” It was about where the Palomino bar was.
Not a fucking soul on the streets nothing, I was terrified, I remember that I threw up in the back on my shoes and my feet… I was terrified!
After I threw up in the back of the car and the guy on my left punched me in the head, he went for my purse and the one in the passenger seat in front turned around to take it, I remember him the most… he was the meanest or angriest… had a dirty look to him like he worked in a car shop or something… dark eyes and a dark small mustache… I asked them what the fuck they wanted a 15 year old’s purse for? Said I only had Tampax and makeup in it with lots of Kleenex and socks… i had a silver pearl handled llama , $25,000 in cash and 4 ounces of blow
He (the monster in the front seat) threw it in my face so hard my nose started to bleed...
I couldn't see anymore... my head hurt and the guy in the back was ripping at my clothes…
They drove for a bit and I realized where I was from the lights way up above my head, The Turcot Yards... on the right hand side where all the trees were
I knew it only because I knew the hotel strip from hanging with my “family” up there!
They stopped there and dragged me by my hair out of the backseat of the car, at first I was kicking and screaming then I just told myself to focus... don't fight them you can't win... just let them do it!
As it was happening I was literally out of my body, I could feel and smell the tree bark of the tree I was holding onto looking down at these fuckers… I remember the mean one pounding on top of me saying “oh, look! she likes it!’ I kept throwing up!
They finally finished, they raped my vagina and my bum… they bit my back, pulled my hair, punched me everywhere… they pinched my breasts, punched them, and bit them… and then took turns kicking me ... I lay still hoping they would just leave, one of them, the dark mean one was sitting beside me… I felt him tapping my arm… I forced my eyes open to see him tapping the knife on the inside of my arm… he asked me how old I was, I said 16… he tapped me on both arms and asked if he should cut my wrists for me… I said nothing… he got bored with that I guess and punched me again… I was numb now. I still to this day have a lump in my butt from one of the kicks, my doc says it's just a calcium build up to protect whatever was injured
All goes quiet... I hear the car doors close and I lay still and wait for what seemed like forever, I looked up the hill... the Motel Raphael was close by, I knew that.
I make my move to run up through the woods and I feel hands on my ankles... they fuckers drag me down from the woods to the road... I figure I'm going to die so I start swinging!
They grab me from behind holding my arms and grabbed my hair… I was helpless, they threw me back into the car...
My purse is on the seat, untouched...I am so scared they will take it, and then they ask me where I was going when they "picked me up" so I started to cry again, I said I was going to the “Moustache” on Closse.
Trust me I thought about grabbing the gun... but I didn't know if it was loaded... I slid the strap of my bag over my shoulder… and I prayed…
Now I know you know where it is... the point is that they drove me downtown, they said since I was “such a sweet fuck and a good girl”... they were going to drop me off!
I didn't believe them…they were going to kill me, I was sure of it. Every inch of my body throbbed…
They warned me about calling out for help, I shut up…as they passed Closse street the one in the front started to laugh! He turned around and hit me in the face again, said something about not letting me go where my friends could catch them! I remember trying to do up my red shirt and zip my pants... they had pulled all the buttons off my shirt... cut off my bra and panties
I had a red shirt that had 2 pockets on it... I buttoned a hole to the button on the pocket of my shirt... at least it was sort of closed.
Going down St Catherine Street, they drive past Clossee and laugh… they stop at the corner of Drummond and turn left… they literally kick me out of the car… they say we're dropping you here... stand still for 5 minutes or we'll come back and get you...
They dropped me on Drummond, just above St Catherine...
It was exactly where I was going, there was a bar there, below St. Catherine, a country bar X & Y owned
I stood there staring at the back of the car as it drove off... it was a chocolate brown, with the word Nova and what I thought at the time was 55 i wrote that down with the license plate(I can only remember 89 and the letters mj or mg, but I could be wrong…) I learned later on the car was nova ss not 55… ;-)
As I turned to walk down Drummond, an old blue and white police van had parked at the corner, I went to the window to ask for help, I remember the officers sipping coffee in Styrofoam cups, I told them I had been raped and please help me, they asked me if I liked it!
I remember being dismissed by them, I crossed st. Catherine and was walking down the street... along came Bobby Chou and katio...
"You're a fucking mess..."
As soon as I saw them I fainted! I came to sitting in front of G, X & Y They had the purse, thank god!
X asked me what the fuck was I doing? I was late! G came In and FREAKED out!
I cried said sorry and told him what happened. I took my little green address book out and showed him what I wrote
I never saw my address book again...
Some weeks later, there was a shot on the front page of a paper, don't know which one but the back of that fucking car had blown up in the middle of the street, wellington maybe
Montreal Star I think, they said settling of accounts... small time thieves etc... the name Bobby or Billy Brown comes to mind and I seem to remember people getting into an uproar that he was killed because he was a good guy!
I never told a soul about all these details ... not even Sharon, the girl I had spoken with in September...
She said there was a Nova SS mentioned somewhere by someone in the Sharron Prior report
She and Margaret are always checking the fb page for info or clues
They (Sharon E & Margaret)said there was more than one rapist, that’s what made me think maybe we were harmed by the same men…
I never opened my mouth... I don’t know why I remember that name… could be unrelated…
X was a fierce man if you harmed his family...
All I know is I was driven to the Cavalier, instead of home so my father didn't freak out! and the boys were busy
I remember trying to have a convo about the newspaper and someone snapped it away from me and told me to try to forget it ever happened…
My heart aches for wee Sharron and you three…
That's an experience that never goes away, never!
Then I get the monster from hell for a bf who does the same thing, brought back every shred of terror I felt that night…
That's why I think it's been so hard to get past that nightmare…
This Is My Sworn Statement To The Prior Family…
May We All Find Some Peace At Last!
A couple of things I’d like to mention now…
They put 16 scars on my inside arms with that knife, 8 on each arm
They did not seem worried, scared or disorganised, they had done this before
They did NOT smell like booze, although they could have been high
They did NOT have me perform oral sex on them… maybe they had a bad experience with that?
My body was ravaged for hours… my vagina in particular, and the area where my clitoris is was swollen so much it took days before I could pee properly and it was in between a golf ball and a tangerine in size! I had ice packs on that area for days…
My anus was a problem for weeks… it felt like everything was going to fall out.
My poor breasts were so beaten up I couldn’t move right or raise my arms for weeks… as soon as I turned 18(legal I had them reduced so men wouldn’t look at me anymore!)
I cut my bum length hair off to my shoulders as soon as I could bring myself to go out in public again…
I lost a tooth from either a kick or punch to my face… I also had 4 broken ribs…
I realize now, today that I am still damaged from this! I am having trouble with the guilt aspect of this!
I am no longer a victim, I am a SURVIVOR!
P.S. I have discovered that there was in fact, a car bombing… in the laneway on 4th avenue in Verdun… a trusted friend remembered it!