Chisasibi man learns to cope with tragedy

On the morning of January 30, Chisasibi security guard Julian House was getting leave for camp with his cousin when he noticed something near the ski-doo trailers behind his house: a person in the snow.

“My first thoughts were, ‘I just hope that person’s just laid there for an hour or so,’” House recounted. “So I rushed to her and yelled, ‘Hey, wake up!’ But when I got to her and touched her shoulder and arm to shake her, she was completely frozen.”

The deceased was Lillian Kitty Coon Come of Chisasibi, a mother of four daughters. House said he recognized her, but had never spoken with her. According to several locals who wished to remain anonymous, Coon Come was out drinking prior to her death.

Captain Shawn Coonishish of the Eeyou Eenou Police Force would not comment when contacted by the Nation, saying only that the coroner was still investigating the case.

While obviously a terrible loss to her family, Coon Come’s death was also devastating to the man who found her body. As a security guard, House said, he has to be ready for unpleasant possibilities.

“I usually prepare myself for stuff like this to happen when I’m on night shifts,” he said. “When pay day comes, when money comes around, or bingo – stuff like that. When something’s happening in town – but this time, nothing was happening. That morning caught me off guard.”

After police arrived, House was invited to the fire hall to talk about what he’d seen and how he felt about the experience with some of the first community’s responders. Later, he spoke with a doctor at the hospital who told him that it was important not to keep his feelings inside.

“Some people don’t talk after what they saw and it gets really heavy for them to handle – it leads to suicide, or a drinking problem, or drugs,” he said.

All the same, at first House didn’t take the doctor’s advice seriously.

“I went home and sat in the living room for about two hours, just thinking,” he said. “My mind was going crazy. I wanted to talk to my parents about what I just saw, but I couldn’t let it out. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I started feeling mixed emotions – anger, sadness – all these sorts of things. I didn’t know how to handle it. After a while, I thought, forget it, I won’t talk about it.”

Before long his feelings began to weigh heavily on him. House recognized that he needed to speak to someone, and decided to reach out to his friends – including Councillor Gabriel Herodier, former Chisasibi Youth Chief Shadrock Trapper, and Nemaska addictions counsellor Roger Orr.

“I’m lucky I have friends like Roger, Gabriel and Shadrack,” he said. “I had big support from them. It really helped me. After I spoke with them, I felt different. I felt like I picked up the broken pieces that had shattered that morning.”

Still, House understood how hard the experience was to absorb when he tried to fall asleep that night.

“I kept seeing her, Lillian – where I found her,” he said. “The next day was the hardest. Before I went to bed, I kept seeing her body. It was getting heavier and heavier every time I closed my eyes – I don’t know how many times I cried. I kept asking God, why me? That was the toughest time. It was very emotional.”

House said the shock gives him a new respect for police officers and the experiences they endure as they handle some of the community’s most disturbing scenes.

“This is just a small thing compared to what cops see,” he said. “I’ve seen a few cops in this town who don’t talk about what they’ve seen and it really got to them. Some have quit their jobs, got depressed, and drank a lot.”

For others in a similar situation, House stresses how important it is to share their feelings and express themselves. He says that having friends offer an ear to listen and a shoulder for support made all the difference in how he dealt with the situation.

Now that time has passed, House has come to take the experience as something he can learn from.

“Since the day it happened, I’ve been thinking about life, thinking about everyone,” he mused. “Now I really look at it differently, in a positive way. It’s a blessing and an honour for me, to learn about life and appreciate life – even Lillian’s life. Even though I never knew her or spoke to her, I thank God for her life on this earth. It gives you a different view of life. It’s like a wake-up call: it gives you a lot of teaching.”