I have managed to keep up with things in the land of Twitter. Such a marvelous notion. Prior to Twitter, I was of the mind set that any form of electronic social connectivity was a sign that the end of real interactions and the etiquette associated with said interaction was slowly going to die. This is not the case with Twitter I believe. For the first time, I can interact with people who's opinions matter greatly to me without meeting them in the flesh. I can have a brief conversation with some of the brightest minds and whom I admire for what they do. I don't quite understand the need some people have to follow complete random strangers, like myself as an example, or the fact that when I ask them why they are following me I am not sent a response, but hey, who am I to judge. Remarkable. But, I digress.
My time in Ft Mac was certainly an adventure. A frightening one at times. Several weeks after I moved in to my new home with Mike, we decided to go out to the Cowboys bar for a bit of fun. I had never gone out with Mike before, so I was completely oblivious to his manners when alcohol was applied. Mike had informed me of some issues with a previous girlfriend he had and that there may very well be some people at the bar that might want to start something with him. I figured given his age (ten years younger) that nothing would happen that a large much older man couldn't get out of. My mistake. We spent a fairly enjoyable evening at the back of the bar, near the dance floor. I couldn't dance, but I enjoyed watching people who could (and just thought they could). After several hours, Mike wandered off in a drunken stupor. I was a bit drunk myself, but I was never much of a drinker, so I kept my intake to a minimum. A little while later the bouncer in the bar, brought Mike over to me and in a very gruff manner, instructed me to keep him with me, I was to not let him out of my sight, and when the bouncers came back I was to leave with them and not return for the evening. Alright, I said. Seemed, odd, but then this is Ft Mac, odd is an everyday occurrence. After a few more minutes, Mike wandered off again, mumbling something about not running away from a fight. Here we go I thought. He was small but also very snaky. I tried to restrain him and prevent him from leaving but he simply wiggled away. I had better at least follow him, I remember thinking.
We made it as far as the door, when quite a few young men surrounded us. There were nine or ten of them. I don't recall what exactly was said, but I assure you it probably wasn't the sort of thing you repeat, at least not if you want to keep this blog civil. The bouncers then threw the lot of us out side. We made it as far as the middle of the parking lot.
I recall someone grabbing Mike from beside me and throwing him to the ground. I turned to grab two fellows that were kicking him when a couple of them decided it was my turn. I remember getting punched in the head and thinking that my sister could throw a better punch. Then another punch to my face. I felt my lower lip split on my teeth and tasted blood. I grabbed one by the neck and the other by the arm and swung them together as hard as I could. Their heads made a strange clunking noise and then I felt another punch to my head from behind. For some reason I blurted out,"You really need to watch that aggressive behavior, son". Always the comic. Several times I tried to get over to Mike, and several times more, they pulled me away. A crowd had gathered by this time and then it's kind of hazy. There were so many of them on each of us, and the fight was happening so fast, that the last thing I recall was hearing someone yelling "Cops". Then, almost as quickly as it started, it was over. Within a few moments, the parking lot was empty, except for Mike and I. Mike was in bad shape. He had a few broken bones and needed help walking. We went to the hospital to get him looked at. What a sight we must have been. Two men beaten and bloodied, torn and dirty clothing sitting in a waiting room. We started laughing after Mike said something about the poor service we received from the bartender. After several hours of waiting, the hospital sent us home. Mike had a broken ankle, and few broken ribs. I didn't need inspection, I knew I had nothing more than a split lip and a few bruises. I was really mad about my favorite shirt being torn.
The next day I learned that the R.C.M.P. were looking for me. I assumed it was to take my statement. I was rather surprised when I learned that I was officially charged with aggravated assault after being questioned. I was dumb-founded. I learned that one of the young men that was involved in the fight was in intensive care in Edmonton after slipping into a coma. The officers told me that I was being charged with aggravated assault, and if it he died as a result of his injuries, it would be increased to manslaughter one. I was in complete shock. The events of the night quickly unfolded in my head. I retold the same story and how, in the end, Mike and I were the only two left in the parking lot. I later learned that the fellow in the hospital was one of the men who had Mike on the ground kicking him repeatedly. Furthermore, the group of individuals were known to the courts as having a habit for starting these fights on a regular basis. Yet here I was, sitting in the RCMP station in Fort McMurray, being charged with assault. I've never had much more than a few speeding tickets before and yet I was being charged. I was in such shock over the nature of these proceedings that I even refused council. It was all too unbelievable, and that is what probably lead this whole affair to drag on as long as it did. Looking back now however, it's probably for the best. I was let go on the premise I not leave town. I also needed to keep a low profile. It wasn't very long till I heard that the family of the man in the hospital had friends with guns looking for me. Mike had one run in a few months later. It was the fellow that was in the hospital. He came out of his coma and felt that he needed to come and find me. Like I've mentioned before, these people are a breed all unto there own. I'm sure there is some good in them somewhere. I didn't see any. For the record, I have friends from the Maritime provinces here in Airdrie. They are good people. I've met with people from the maritime provinces that are just out here visiting and I welcome them as fellow Canadians. I am pointing out here, that the once maritime people of Ft Mac are no longer the laid back maritimers they once were, there is a distinct difference between true maritimers and what ever spawns in the north country.
The court proceeding lasted one year. I eventually hired a lawyer. I paid just over 5000 dollars. Turned out to be a great investment. By the crown prosecutors own admittance, the plaintiff could not identify the person responsible for the attack. The judge went on further to say that, anything could have happened that night, he may have very well hit his head while walking home. Ultimately the charges were dropped and I was dismissed. As I left the court house, a mob had gathered and had the very people responsible for laying charges on me not been present(the R.C.M.P.), I suspect I would be dead. I had an escort to as far as Grassland and was told to leave town and never return. Not a big deal since by this time, I had met my future wife and already moved in with her in Edmonton. I'll get to that later.
The girl that I was dating at the time of the fight found herself in Mikes bedroom a few weeks later. Mike was also in the room and for some reason they had both lost their clothes. I remember opening Mikes bedroom door and seeing the two of them passed out, piled on top of one another asleep and thinking, "Yep, that's about right."
I moved out not too long after that.
Better times were coming. I'll get into those days later.
Sleep well.
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