News (Media Awareness Project) - CN MB: Column: All We Can Offer Janet Goodin Is A Sincere |
Title: | CN MB: Column: All We Can Offer Janet Goodin Is A Sincere |
Published On: | 2011-07-30 |
Source: | Winnipeg Free Press (CN MB) |
Fetched On: | 2011-08-01 06:00:40 |
ALL WE CAN OFFER JANET GOODIN IS A SINCERE APOLOGY
You never know where the next column is lurking. Or who will lug it to
your door.
Paul "Willy" Williamson, the Free Press's big Buddha of an auto
writer, dropped by my newsroom cubicle this week with an idea that
sounded like it had wheels.
Until the brakes were applied.
Initially, Willy's idea seemed doable.
If the Canadian government won't say it's sorry for the humiliating
and unnecessarily punitive way Warroad, Minn., grandmother Janet
Goodin was treated last spring, maybe Canadians can apologize in a
collective way for the way she was strip-searched and cuffed at the
border, then tossed in jail for 12 days on suspicion of smuggling
heroin in a jar. And Willy really did mean apologize in a collective
way.
He wanted to take up a collection that would cover the $5,000 in legal
fees the 66-year-old ran up before the Crown stayed drug trafficking
and possession charges.
At first I thought it must have been Canada Border Services Agency
mistaking motor oil for liquid "black heroin" that got our car guy's
attention. But Willy's concern went way deeper than a dipstick or the
series of dipstick-like decisions that trailed from the Sprague
crossing where a flawed field test reportedly indicated the motor oil
was heroin, right through the bail hearing that left Goodin locked up
at the Winnipeg Remand Centre.
Willy's idea came primarily from something Goodin said this week in
reference to her treatment and the money she didn't have, but had to
find, to pay a lawyer.
"An apology would be nice," Goodin said, "and I would like to be able
to pay back the relative that I borrowed money from."
There you have it.
But what really got to Willy -- the spark that connected his head with
his heart -- was seeing a photo in Wednesday's paper of the
grandmother figure leaning over the counter in her house trailer.
"She totally reminded me of Babba," Willy said as he leaned over my
desk.
Babba is Willy's mother-in-law.
"I thought, 'Oh my god, imagine if they did that to Babba.'
"
Clearly, that's the sentiment that has motivated the intense public
interest in Goodin and her treatment. It could have happened to
anyone. Apparently, even a trace of chocolate can set off a false
positive in one of the CBSA quick-tests. And like lots of us, Babba
likes to make the occasional cross-border trip, which is what she was
trying do last Easter when she left home to visit her daughters in
Manitoba and play a little bingo. Only to be pulled over at the border
when Canadian border agents found a jar of dark liquid they obviously
suspected was "black heroin."
Eventually, she was carted off to jail until more thorough testing of
the old motor oil in the back of her vehicle proved it was, surprise,
old motor oil.
"I'm just horrified to think that if I left some used motor oil in the
trunk of her car, she could have been erroneously accused of smuggling
heroin into the U.S. or into Canada on her return," mused Willy. "I
can't imagine Babba locked up in the Winnipeg Remand Centre."
Actually, Willy can definitely imagine a jail scenario. Once upon
another career, he was a corrections officer at the remand centre.
"And as a citizen of man," Willy said, "and a former law-enforcement
officer, this story completely and utterly disgusted me."
He's not alone in being outraged.
I get the sense that even Public Safety Minister Vic Toews feels
sorry. Thus far, though, the Canadian government hasn't apologized or
agreed to compensate her financially.
So Goodin is suing.
In the meantime, Willy's plan would address at least part of both of
those issues on behalf of individual Canadians. But before we opened a
bank account where people could donate to her defence fund, Free Press
editor Margo Goodhand thought it might be prudent to ask Goodin if she
wanted financial help.
On Friday, I contacted Goodin's Winnipeg lawyer, Kerry L. UnRuh, and,
after listening to the proposal, he contacted her. Goodin's reaction?
A polite and grateful thanks.
But no thanks.
UnRuh explained Goodin was grateful for the overwhelming outpouring of
public support. But she's uncomfortable with receiving donations from
the public. What's changed? UnRuh won't say but I can guess.
The law firm has decided to work on a contingency basis.
Oh well, we can still say a collective Canadian "sorry." Although,
when the Free Press did an online poll that generated more than 5,000
votes, only 57 per cent said Goodin deserved an apology. The rest must
be ingesting something that should get them arrested if they tried to
smuggle it across the border.
Of course, that leaves me no choice but to say sorry again to Janet
Goodin.
Sorry that more of us won't say we're sorry. I know saying sorry for
not being sorry enough may sound a bit excessive.
But, sorry. I am Canadian.
You never know where the next column is lurking. Or who will lug it to
your door.
Paul "Willy" Williamson, the Free Press's big Buddha of an auto
writer, dropped by my newsroom cubicle this week with an idea that
sounded like it had wheels.
Until the brakes were applied.
Initially, Willy's idea seemed doable.
If the Canadian government won't say it's sorry for the humiliating
and unnecessarily punitive way Warroad, Minn., grandmother Janet
Goodin was treated last spring, maybe Canadians can apologize in a
collective way for the way she was strip-searched and cuffed at the
border, then tossed in jail for 12 days on suspicion of smuggling
heroin in a jar. And Willy really did mean apologize in a collective
way.
He wanted to take up a collection that would cover the $5,000 in legal
fees the 66-year-old ran up before the Crown stayed drug trafficking
and possession charges.
At first I thought it must have been Canada Border Services Agency
mistaking motor oil for liquid "black heroin" that got our car guy's
attention. But Willy's concern went way deeper than a dipstick or the
series of dipstick-like decisions that trailed from the Sprague
crossing where a flawed field test reportedly indicated the motor oil
was heroin, right through the bail hearing that left Goodin locked up
at the Winnipeg Remand Centre.
Willy's idea came primarily from something Goodin said this week in
reference to her treatment and the money she didn't have, but had to
find, to pay a lawyer.
"An apology would be nice," Goodin said, "and I would like to be able
to pay back the relative that I borrowed money from."
There you have it.
But what really got to Willy -- the spark that connected his head with
his heart -- was seeing a photo in Wednesday's paper of the
grandmother figure leaning over the counter in her house trailer.
"She totally reminded me of Babba," Willy said as he leaned over my
desk.
Babba is Willy's mother-in-law.
"I thought, 'Oh my god, imagine if they did that to Babba.'
"
Clearly, that's the sentiment that has motivated the intense public
interest in Goodin and her treatment. It could have happened to
anyone. Apparently, even a trace of chocolate can set off a false
positive in one of the CBSA quick-tests. And like lots of us, Babba
likes to make the occasional cross-border trip, which is what she was
trying do last Easter when she left home to visit her daughters in
Manitoba and play a little bingo. Only to be pulled over at the border
when Canadian border agents found a jar of dark liquid they obviously
suspected was "black heroin."
Eventually, she was carted off to jail until more thorough testing of
the old motor oil in the back of her vehicle proved it was, surprise,
old motor oil.
"I'm just horrified to think that if I left some used motor oil in the
trunk of her car, she could have been erroneously accused of smuggling
heroin into the U.S. or into Canada on her return," mused Willy. "I
can't imagine Babba locked up in the Winnipeg Remand Centre."
Actually, Willy can definitely imagine a jail scenario. Once upon
another career, he was a corrections officer at the remand centre.
"And as a citizen of man," Willy said, "and a former law-enforcement
officer, this story completely and utterly disgusted me."
He's not alone in being outraged.
I get the sense that even Public Safety Minister Vic Toews feels
sorry. Thus far, though, the Canadian government hasn't apologized or
agreed to compensate her financially.
So Goodin is suing.
In the meantime, Willy's plan would address at least part of both of
those issues on behalf of individual Canadians. But before we opened a
bank account where people could donate to her defence fund, Free Press
editor Margo Goodhand thought it might be prudent to ask Goodin if she
wanted financial help.
On Friday, I contacted Goodin's Winnipeg lawyer, Kerry L. UnRuh, and,
after listening to the proposal, he contacted her. Goodin's reaction?
A polite and grateful thanks.
But no thanks.
UnRuh explained Goodin was grateful for the overwhelming outpouring of
public support. But she's uncomfortable with receiving donations from
the public. What's changed? UnRuh won't say but I can guess.
The law firm has decided to work on a contingency basis.
Oh well, we can still say a collective Canadian "sorry." Although,
when the Free Press did an online poll that generated more than 5,000
votes, only 57 per cent said Goodin deserved an apology. The rest must
be ingesting something that should get them arrested if they tried to
smuggle it across the border.
Of course, that leaves me no choice but to say sorry again to Janet
Goodin.
Sorry that more of us won't say we're sorry. I know saying sorry for
not being sorry enough may sound a bit excessive.
But, sorry. I am Canadian.
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