Front Burner - Front Burner Introduces: Sorry About The Kid

Episode Date: January 29, 2022

How do you forget your favourite person in the world? Alex remembers everything about the day a speeding police car killed his brother. But his brother, alive? Those memories are lost. And now, 30 years later, Alex wants them back. In this emotional four-part series, Alex unearths his childhood grief — with help from family, friends, and a therapist who witnessed his brother’s death. What happens when trauma and memory collide? Sorry About The Kid is a deeply personal meditation on the losses that define us. Hosted by Alex McKinnon. Produced with Mira Burt-Wintonick (WireTap, Love Me). More episodes are available at hyperurl.co/sorryaboutthekid

In the Dragon's Den, a simple pitch can lead to a life-changing connection. Watch new episodes of Dragon's Den free on CBC Gem. Brought to you in part by National Angel Capital Organization, empowering Canada's entrepreneurs through angel investment and industry connections. This is a CBC Podcast. Hey everybody, we have a very special bonus for Frontburner's podcast subscribers. It's the first episode of a brand new series from CBC Podcasts called Story About the Kid, a deeply personal story about loss and how it defines us. Alex McKinnon remembers everything about the day that a speeding police

car killed his 14-year-old brother. But memories of when his brother was alive, those are lost. But memories of when his brother was alive, those are lost. Now, 30 years later, Alex wants them back. In this emotional four-part series, Alex unearths his childhood grief with help from family, friends, and a therapist who witnessed his brother's death. We've got the first episode of Story About the Kid for you now. Have a listen. When I was a kid, I was a bit obsessed with my older brother Paul. I was always tagging along after him and his friends, trying to make him laugh, make him proud. We'd play ball hockey for hours on end in my parents' basement,

and whenever one of us would score a goal and raise our stick to celebrate, And whenever one of us would score a goal and raise our stick to celebrate, we'd poke a hole in the ceiling. After a while, there were so many holes that my dad made us play on our knees, using mini-sticks we got at some tournament. By the end of those nights, our knees were scabbed and raw. But we didn't care. You'd think those nights would be some of my favorite memories of my brother Paul. But the truth is, I only know they happened because that's what I've been told. I don't really remember my brother at all.

The McKinnons were the fourth Montreal family this year to bury a relative killed by a police cruiser. It was a tragedy, a horrible accident that took the life of a 14-year-old and one which would have far-reaching implications. There'll be a coroner's inquest as well as a police investigation into his death. I was 10 years old when Paul died. He was 14, and he was hit and killed by a police cruiser outside his school. I remember the moment I found out. I remember my sister's eulogy at his funeral.

I remember my mom eating nothing but melba toast and cheese for months. And I remember the look on the face of the cop who killed him during the years of inquests and trials. But when it comes to memories of Paul himself, alive, everything is just gone. Okay, can I have a camera? I just want to try something.

This is Paul McKinnon signing off. Bye-bye, good night. Dead or alive. I'm Alex McKinnon, and this is Sorry About the Kid, a podcast about me trying to get to know my brother 30 years after he was killed, and wanting to make sense of how the trauma surrounding Paul's death has shaped the grief and lives of those of us left behind. Chapter 1

Where's Paul? Can you just say a couple things? Testing 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Perfect. Okay. So, Dad, what do you remember most about Paul? Um, I remember his smile. Um, his laugh. Oh, you still remember his laugh?

Oh yeah. Oh, lucky. Um, when he was little, it was like, uh, almost like a little machine gun laugh. He was a laughing kid. He really was a happy guy. Generally, he had a sweaty smell. Because he was a very active fellow. He didn't sit still a lot. Even though Paul and I were really close It was only a week or two after he died

That I started to forget things about him At first it was his voice Then it was his laugh And pretty soon it was entire chunks of our life together Inside jokes Moments we shared Until it was basically all gone. When I called my mom on Paul's birthday this year, she had all these stories about him that

I was there for, but have no memory of whatsoever. When we went camping, there used to be a Christian camp and he sold snakes that he had just collected to the Christians. And then he sold grass to feed the snakes, and it was just grass that he picked up. And he had no clue what the snakes liked to eat, but he sold them a bunch of grass. My sister Sarah's memories also seem closer to the surface than mine. She was 16 when Paul died and had more years with him. Before I came along, the two of them were a team. Well, we were a team in that I was in charge.

And then I had an assistant. I had a sidekick and gopher. And you were a kid who really liked memories a lot, which is kind of funny that you're doing this podcast now. So you'd often say, oh, do you remember when we went to... You liked to kind of bring up happy memories as a kid. My family and I talk about Paul pretty often. There are pictures of him all over the place.

And my daughter and my sister's kids know all about Uncle Paul. But sometimes I feel I'm grieving something the rest of my family is not. A void rather than a person. And not only have I forgotten Paul, but I've forgotten pretty much everything before the day he died. That day, I can see play out like a movie inside my head. October 25th, 1990, was a Thursday. And by then, most of the leaves had already fallen in Montreal. Halloween decorations lined the streets.

And I'd already decided on my costume. A nun. That was my go-to for a few years running, which I thought was hilarious. I came home from school late that night, and I remember noticing there were more cars parked outside our house than I'd ever seen before. I remember walking up the stairs and my sister opening the door. She grabbed me by the shoulders and led me inside. My mom was sitting on a chair near the hallway. A bunch of my relatives were seated around the edges of the room.

Where's Paul? I remember asking. But I think I already knew. Somehow, looking around that room, I knew. My mom walked over to me and said, Alex, a terrible tragedy has happened in our family. Paul is dead. I collapsed on the ground.

I want to know what other people remember about that day. And try to find out why Paul's death has become my strongest connection to him. I'll see you next time. Capital Organization, empowering Canada's entrepreneurs through angel investment and industry connections. Hi, it's Ramit Sethi here. You may have seen my money show on Netflix. I've been talking about money for 20 years. I've talked to millions of people and I have some startling numbers to share with you. Did you know that of the people I speak to, 50% of them do not know their own household income? That's not a typo. 50%. That's because money is confusing. In my new book and podcast, Money for Couples, I help you and your partner create a financial vision together. To listen to this podcast, just search for Money for Couples. This has changed a lot. The school, yeah.

So this is where he was hit. And you remember it kind of being a day like today, right? Yeah, it was maybe even a little warmer. It might have been a little warmer. It was kind of a beautiful day, I think, from what I remember. The year he died, Paul was in grade 9 at Loyola, an all-boys high school 20 minutes or so from our house. He had a paper route he'd run each morning before school.

Paul used to get up quite early in the morning and deliver his La Presse. And then he'd sit on the swing on the front deck and he'd read the sports page. Then he'd come up and he'd have a shower and he'd go to school. And so this all happened quite early and I would basically be in bed maybe reading. And I was sitting in bed reading and Paul had the bathroom door open, and he was combing his hair, and I saw his reflection in the mirror as he was combing his hair. And then he said, Bye, Ma, and left for school.

The school bell rang at 2.50 that afternoon, as it always did. Usually, Paul would head into the basement locker rooms to get changed for football practice. He'd get home around 5, have dinner, do homework, maybe go out and play hockey or hang out with friends. This day, though, was different. We stayed late that day because word in the street was that a friend of ours was going to get beaten up by some kids who were older than him. This is Greg, Paul's best friend at Loyola, who would joke around with him in class and sometimes sneak beers with him on the weekends. Paul and I actually hung out after school that day because we wanted to protect this guy and so

Paul and I you know milled about the uh the locker room to see if there was going to be some action and nothing ended up going down and so you know we wandered out of the school people were milling about people were coming out of the main building sitting on the steps and uh we were chatting and kind of scanning the buses to figure out who would have to run first which was again a very traditional liola high school boy activity you did your uh 25 to 50 yard dash from the beginning of that staircase all the way to your bus um paul's bus was across the intersection on the other side, and off he went. And as he was running, he looked over his shoulder at me before he entered into the street. And so what I remember was this police cruiser.

It just literally appeared coming past the bus. And Paul was crossing. And that's when I saw Paul turning and seeing the car coming at him. And that's when the car impacted. I just remember him flying in the air. I just remember him flying in the air A woman in her car waiting at the red light remembers hearing a bang and seeing a rainbow of books flying out of Paul's backpack arching across the sky But for Greg

everything went still What struck me was really the silence of the moment. There was just all of this silence. In the background, I could hear the faint screech of tires breaking. And that was it. That white noise of people coming and going was gone. And I dropped my bag and I ran to where he basically he flew to and found him under the back of a parked car. He had fallen under a car parked on Sherbrooke Street and his his body was under that back bumper.

a car parked on Sherbrooke street and his, his body was under that back bumper and the students who were there, you know, they, they were kind of lined up on the sidewalk and they were just looking at him and I just pushed my way through and went right up to him. I remember crouching over and I called to him, eyes were closed. He wasn't responsive and I will never forget this. When I looked at his legs, I could tell that the bones of his legs were pressing through the trousers.

And the panic that he was gravely injured just absolutely took over me. I knew enough not to move him. And when I couldn't get him to wake up, and I was calling out to him and calling out to him, I ran from him all the way back to Loyola. And I remember tearing into the office at the time and yelling, someone needs to call for an ambulance and someone needs to call Paul's parents. The school secretary called my mom. And she said, Mrs. McKinnon, there's been an accident. Paul's been hurt. And I said, Mrs. McKinnon, there's been an accident. Paul's been hurt. And I said, what happened?

And she said, I don't know. She said, could you come to the school? I'm not quite sure what his injuries are. And I had a vision that Paul was like looking very embarrassed, sitting up and maybe had like a broken arm or something. Meanwhile, back at the scene, the ambulance arrived. The school soccer coach remembers getting a group of nearby college boys to lift the car Paul had landed under,

so the paramedics could pull him out. There was a huge, a big crowd, a big crowd. My mom's friend, Joan, a nurse, remembers getting a call from my mom, asking her to go meet her at the school. Joan ended up arriving first. I somehow pushed my way in and saw Paul lying there.

And he just looked perfect to me, perfectly fine to me, although he was not responding. But I remember when your mother arrived, they would not let her, they would not let her come to Paul. And I told them, your mother, she has to, she has to. She's strong, she can do this. And they listened to me. And your mother, I very luckily

was able to speak to him. She spoke to him. She spoke to him. Did he respond? No, he couldn't respond. No, he did not respond. It's hard to know if he heard it, but I think if anything, he might have heard her. I went down and I told him, you're going to be okay.

You're a strong boy. You're going to be fine. He didn't look pale or he didn't look, he looked okay. The only thing I did notice was that I saw there was a bulge in the top of his head and it was kind of pulsating. And I wanted to go in the ambulance with him and they said no there's we're gonna have to treat him right away he said you follow us to the hospital by the time I got to the hospital we went to where they told us to go and this doctor came out and she was hysterical and she was saying I've never seen

anything like this he he's lost his foot I thought he doesn't have a foot she said his foot was taken off by the by the something and I thought how did I not see that his foot was gone I mean looked fine, except for this bulge in his... And I was right at his feet, and she was hysterical, and she said, it's shattered, he's shattered. My dad was at work when he got the call

saying one of his kids had been injured and to go to the hospital. When he arrived, he didn't know which one of us had been hurt, because for some reason, Paul had both his Medicare card and mine. But finally he found his way to the right room. There was quite a few people in the room. I couldn't see Paul.

I mean, I saw the bed he was on and so on, but I couldn't get anywhere near. He was bandaged up. I could see a bit of his nose so on, but I couldn't get anywhere near. He was bandaged up. I could see a bit of his nose and face, but that's all. All sorts of things go through your mind, but you pray to God. You pray to anything. My parents were told to stay in the waiting area while Paul went in for surgery. The doctor came out and he said, I don't think I can do anything for him. And I said, oh yes you can, you know, you can.

I have confidence in you, don't worry. And he kind of said, you know, he'll never see again. He's blind. And so then he asked if we would be willing to donate any of his organs. would be willing to donate any of his organs and I said no I I you're gonna you're gonna save him because I don't I didn't want them to go in there and just and they said you have to make up your mind now because um they can't do it after you die. And I couldn't do it. I said, no, I think there's a chance.

He's very strong. And they came out shortly after and said that he was gone. It felt like something was being torn out of my brain. I had a headache like you couldn't believe. And it just felt like something was pulling it, coming, just being torn out. It's just somebody just tore a piece of flesh out. Never felt the same after that.

What was that like, leaving the hospital? I sort of remember it being like we didn't want to leave Paul there. Both of us. I remember talking with your mom and we both felt, no, no, we can't leave him here. We can't leave him here. We sat there and sat there, but then

I knew that you and Sarah would be coming home from school and we had to get home for you and Sarah would be coming home from school. And we had to get home for you and Sarah. And then we... drove home. I drove your parents home. Your mom and dad were in the back seat.

Quiet, as I recall, quite quiet. There was maybe an occasional sob, but very quiet. A hard, quiet drive home. It was unreal. We walked in, and Paul's running shoes are still on the porch. We left them there for months. so you got home and do you who told Sarah was it you or mom I think we both did when I came home I remember the first thing I said was, where's Paul? I remember you saying that. Where's Paul?

Yeah. And I just remember kind of collapsing. It's hard to describe how I felt at the moment my parents told me about Paul. I fell to the ground, I know that. But not because I fainted or couldn't hold myself up anymore. I just thought that's what I should do. Or more like, I didn't know what else to do. I remember looking at you just thinking, you were just bewildered.

You were crying. It just was horrible. Not long after, I was in the kitchen when the phone rang. It was Paul's old girlfriend, Zoe. She wanted to see if he could sneak her and some friends into the upcoming dance at his school. Do you remember this part? I do. Yeah. So I had the very unfortunate

timing when I called you and I said, you know, hi, Alex, is Paul there? And you said, no, he's not. And I was like, really? And you said, no, he's not. He's dead. You said it really loudly. I mean, he's dead. You said it really loudly. I mean, you must have been so angry. And you hung up. And then I called back and somebody in your family, I think it was your dad, explained the whole thing to me. And it was so horrible. And I felt so bad for calling. But you know, I called because that's who Paul was. He was the guy who would get you in to the fun dance. And it was a horrible day. It was so unnecessary, you know.

Word of Paul's death soon spread. There were rumors some of his friends went out and overturned a cop car that night. Others took the news differently. It was on the news and they had announced it. Some accident, somebody got hit by a car in front of Loyola. This is Benji, one of Paul's childhood best friends, who we used to play hockey with on our knees in the basement. And my first thought was, oh my God, I can't believe it. I wonder if Paul saw what happened.

So that was on the radio. And so I think Joey called me and told me, did you hear what happened? Joey was like bawling and I just I didn't understand I Just didn't understand what was happening And that night I think I went to hockey anyways, I was just I Was just frozen I just did I just didn't know what was going on. And I remember crying at the hockey rink. And I played the game, but I don't know what I was doing.

I was probably just skating circles the whole time. Later that night, I'm not exactly sure when, two police officers arrived at our house, carrying a brown cardboard box. My sister answered the door. They weren't the cops who'd hit Paul, but she still wouldn't let them in. They dropped the box at her feet and said,

Sorry about the kid. we were just doing our job my sister opened the box it was filled with Paul's blood soaked clothes it was like his leather jacket it was all torn up there was blood on it and it was all torn up there was blood on it and it was yeah you know I just sat next to that box for an awfully long time you and Sarah did not want to go upstairs that night you slept on the living floor and I went upstairs and I remember I didn't even know I was doing it I

spent the night screaming just screaming did you sleep that night no I screamed all night I didn't even know I was screaming it was physical pain it was. It was like being in physical pain. It wasn't a thought. I just screamed. In the days after Paul's death, a lot of people were coming by the house. Some of them we didn't even know. Maybe they'd heard about the accident on the news. There was one couple there who'd lost their son 20 years earlier. They tried comforting my parents,

telling them that even though they still think about him every day, it does get easier. It does get better. I remember watching them from a few feet away and thinking, wow, 20 years. How can you still be so hung up on him after 20 years? Get over it. I think about that couple often.

About how naive I was. It's been 30 years since Paul died, and here I am, still processing it all. And I can't help but think about the cops coming to our house that first night, and how everything that happened afterwards, the media blitz, the fight to uncover the facts, the years of legal turmoil, how did I let it all erase my memories of my brother? The fight to uncover the facts. The years of legal turmoil.

How did I let it all erase my memories of my brother? And how do I get them back? On the next episode of Sorry About the Kid. I did not want to forget. I didn't think I'd be able to take the shock again if I ever forgot for a moment, if I ever fell asleep and forgot. So I woke up every morning and said, Paul's dead. Because I think in some ways, it took your mom and dad away too. You know what I mean?

They're never the same. There is no way that a person is the same after they lose a child. You're not the same. Sorry About the Kid is written and produced by me, Alex McKinnon, and Mira Burtwintonic. Editing and sound design by Mira Burtwin-Tonick. Jeff Turner is our senior producer.

Our theme music is by David Drury. S.K. Robert is our coordinating producer. Our associate producer is Caitlin Taylor. Our logo is by Mathilde Corbet. RF Noorani is executive producer. Follow Sorry About The Kid on CBC Listen or wherever you get your podcasts

and if you like the show tell your friends about it it would mean a lot to us thanks for listening alright so this has been the first episode of Sorry About The Kid you can listen to all episodes from the series right now on the CBC Listen app and everywhere you get your podcasts.

For more CBC Podcasts, go to cbc.ca slash podcasts.