Thanks again for having me appear before this committee.
For those who don't know, my name is Greg Gilhooly. My claim to fame, for lack of a better phrase, is that for a number of years I was victimized by hockey coach Graham James, perhaps Canada's most notorious convicted serial sexual predator.
My first day away from Graham was my first day as an undergrad in the United States. I eventually came back to Canada and studied law and became a lawyer, so I very much lived the tension between that of being a victim and that of operating with knowledge of the law and why our legal system is structured the way that it is. The interesting thing when we refer to the word “victim” is that while people are victimized when actions occur under the law, there truly isn't a victim until you have a convicted individual who has been proven guilty, or the court has deemed that the individual actually has committed the offence. Therein lies the difficulty, because if you have had something done to you, if you are a victim of an act, if you find yourself in a situation where you are suffering pain, there is still this process that has to take place before we actually do have a convicted criminal. Until that time, we have an accused.
As a victim, do you deserve standing in the process? The answer unfortunately is likely not, because the way that our traditions have developed you are nothing as a victim but a witness. You have a story to tell and that's that, and in the extent to which the system skews beyond that, we are potentially tainting the system. As a lawyer, I get it. I understand it. I understand why victims have to be put here and listened to and dealt with the way they are until such time as we have a defined victim.
That said, a victim can be treated with dignity and respect throughout the process, and that's why I was so encouraged to hear that this government was bringing forward the proposed Canadian victims bill of rights.
I don't agree with everything this government does, but the government, in my view, is clearly on the side of the angels when it comes to this. If there were nothing other than a victims bill of rights proposed, and that bill said that you will be listened to throughout the process, that is manna from the gods for someone who is a victim or has been a victim and goes through the process, because, as was said earlier, as a victim, you want to be heard. You want to be respected. You want to be treated with dignity and respect. You have a story to tell. You are a witness, but my goodness, you are also going through so much pain, you have no idea, and whatever can be done to ensure that the process you go through at that time treats you with dignity and respect is something to be encouraged. To the extent that we can move forward with a bill of rights that enshrines those rights or that behaviour, that is a good thing in my view.
The law can't solve all problems. My run-in with Graham took place in Manitoba. When I came forward along with Theo Fleury and Todd Holt, the second round after Sheldon had come forward many years before, we were in Manitoba, in the Manitoba system. There is a Victims' Bill of Rights in Manitoba. The very essence of the rights that are to be enshrined in the draft bill are, for the most part, in the Manitoba legislation, and I can tell you as a victim who has gone through the process, simply writing things down doesn't mean they are going to happen.
As a lawyer, I sat through a process where Graham came back voluntarily from Mexico and was immediately released on bail. He was given credit for voluntarily coming forward and participating in the process. We had no voice in the bail hearing. Graham was effectively given credit for good behaviour and volunteering to adhere to a process, and he was out. We didn't know where he was. We didn't know what's going on. We had no information as to his whereabouts. Graham then dealt with the charges that were eventually laid, and decided to play around with the crown in a back-and-forth set of negotiations that went on for the better part of 13 months after the charges were laid.
In the end, Graham decided to plead guilty to the charges from two of those who came forward and not with respect to me. We always thought he was going to play around with Theo. In the end he decided to play around with me. We think we know why he did these things, but mine is not ever to jump into the mind of Graham James. One Friday I picked up the phone and a social worker in Manitoba who had been assigned to my case said, “There's good news. Graham is agreeing to a plea, but unfortunately, he's not going to plead guilty to the charges with respect to you. We'll talk to you next week.” I can tell you that was perhaps the worst phone call of my life.
The lawyer in me absolutely understood what took place. Graham was in a position of power. The crown got away with a conviction. The crown did not have to take Graham to trial. We were dealing with incidents that took place decades ago. Others who were involved who hadn't yet wanted to come forward would likely have been subpoenaed to testify. It was an ugly situation waiting to happen.
The problem is that in effecting a good, common sense legal result, the crowns made that decision on their own. Think of the opportunity lost. They were dealing with me, and I'm a lawyer. All it would have taken was a phone call earlier that day when the crowns in Manitoba were getting together. Apparently this took place at the highest level. They brought a group of crowns together and tried to figure out what they were going to do. If they had called me on speakerphone and said they had a tough situation, I could have been involved in this decision and could potentially have saved other victims who hadn't yet come forward from having to testify. I could save Todd Holt and Theo Fleury from having to testify. I could go along with this and be a part of a good result that worked out for all involved, knowing that even if I did come forward, chances were Graham's sentence wasn't going to be materially longer in any event, given the concept of totality that we have in our sentencing.
I could have been a part of something wonderful. I could have felt that I was a positive element of what was going on. I could have objected, and at least felt that my views were listened to. In the end I received a phone call not from a crown—none of them had the guts to pick up the phone and call me—but from the social worker who'd been assigned to the case.
The good thing is that the law in Manitoba had it so a social worker was assigned to the case. The good thing is that I was kept apprised of the process all the way through. The good thing is the basket of rights which for the most part is reflected in the proposed bill of rights we have in front of us. Those good things were all a part of what I was dealing with, and that empowered me and made me feel as if I knew what was going on. That is good, but I bring up my example simply to point out that we can write all the wonderful law we want, but it's not going to be a guarantee that it happens. That said, just because the right thing may not happen doesn't mean we shouldn't move forward in trying to bring about the right basket of rights that we need. To the extent that victims are treated with dignity and respect on a go-forward basis and are listened to, the system can only benefit.
I was disheartened when I read the testimony from your last meeting, when the head of the crowns organization objected to having an obligation to consult with victims before any plea was heard or given. I can't for the life of me understand how having to receive input from a victim can in any way muddy or get in the way of what that person's job description should be on a go-forward basis. I would hope that every crown working in our communities would want to hear from a victim, and would want input from a victim, and would encourage victims to give voice to what the victim thought appropriate in the circumstance, or at least to be a part of the discussion.
As a lawyer I understand why I can't be anything more than a witness, but for the life of me I don't understand why a crown would object to my having input into what goes on. It's interesting; when you take a step back from everything, victims as a class often have a viewpoint that others may or may not be able to appreciate. Think of the recent case of NFL football player Ray Rice, the gentleman who punched his wife in the elevator. His case came forward in the U.S., and there was much discussion about whether the NFL had gone too far or not far enough in suspending the player for two games on the rumour of the spousal assault. Then a video of the assault came forward. You can't unwatch the video, and when you see the video, all of a sudden I have before me, oh my God, what was I thinking when I even considered two games as an appropriate sanction? I say this to flip into the concept of a victim generally. A victim sees the crime take place, and a victim has to suffer through the intelligentsia, the law professors, the lawyers, whoever, discussing what appropriate sentences are in certain circumstances.
I know that as a victim in the Graham situation, I saw any number of editorials out there about how the initial sentence of two and a half years was, well, maybe not the best, but on appeal when it was kicked up to five years, that was probably okay. I'm not a lock-'em-up-and-throw-away-the-key person, but I put it to everybody here that when you come across a serial sexual predator who has committed more than 400—admitted to more than 400—individual sexual assaults along the way in his two previous convictions, chances are that five years are not enough. But that's neither here nor there.
What I'm getting to is that the perspective of a victim is important, and I welcome questions down the road.
I thank you for the opportunity to present here.