Thank you very much. Good afternoon to everybody.
My name is Fred Priestley-Wright. I'm 83 years old. I live in rural west central Alberta. I am a professional. I am an aeronautical engineer by profession. I worked as an aerodynamicist on the Avro Arrow and then under contract to the U.S. Air Force doing aerodynamic analysis of some of their aircraft. That contract was up in three years and I returned to Alberta and worked in the oil and gas industry, and then went into ranching where I presently live.
My incident occurred on November 4. I'll go through it quickly. I had finished lunch. It was a -20°C day, with some snow. I worked in the office all morning. I was going to my small sawmill after lunch to saw logs, to make lumber. I went out to my truck, which is 162 feet from my house. I started my truck. It was -20°C. I left it running. Yes, the keys were in it. Yes, that is theoretically a no-no. In reality, we all do it, for very good reasons. I had forgotten my cellphone, so I went back to the house, 162 feet. The cellphone was on the shelf just inside the door. I picked it up and went back.
There was a strange white truck in my yard. I hadn't seen it before. My truck was leaving the driveway, leaving the premises. I looked at the white truck. It wasn't a local truck; nobody was playing games. I took my cellphone out and started to phone 911, and my truck reappeared across the lawn and almost ran me down, and stopped beside the white truck. The passenger got out and was retrieving something that they had left from the white truck, which turned out to be stolen. I went to the driver's side and I opened the door and I said, “What is going on?” The driver put it in gear, backed up—the door was open and knocked me down—and then closed and locked the door. So I went to the other side, to the passenger side where the individual was removing whatever it was from the white truck, the stolen truck. I asked him the same question, “What is doing on?” He grabbed me, and the other fellow got me from behind, and they put me down. When they were putting me down, they said, “We're scared. The RCMP are after us, and the mafia is after us.” Right away, I thought, "I'm facing a drug case here."
They put me down on the ground. The driver got back in the truck. My guard dog chased him back to the truck. The other one cut my throat, kicked my head continually—I would suggest, if I can guess properly, about six times. The first kick was to my right eye, damaging it severely. There were several kicks to my jaw, which did significant damage to my jaw. Another one or two were to my neck, and I have a neck problem now. Then finally he kicked me in the chest, causing me excruciating pain. All the time he was doing this, he was waving a knife in front of me.
I guess I more or less passed out from the extreme pain from the kick to the chest, and I just barely remember him nudging me with his foot like a hunter would do with a deer to see if it was dead or not. Then he proceeded to get into the truck. He was taking his time about it, and my wife had come out because she had heard a commotion, and from the corner of the garage said, “What is going on?” Then they both hurried up and left the area.
She phoned 911, and the RCMP appeared and called an ambulance and whatnot. What has happened to me? I'm just going to read some of my impact statements I made to the court.
In terms of the physical trauma, the knife slash to the neck was a clean cut and bled heavily. There is right-eye damage. Sight is severely distorted. I can't read a book without frustration due to horizontal double-vision. I have to read with one eye closed now, which is hard for an 83-year-old who has used both eyes for most of his life. I have serious jaw fractures and no feeling in my lower lip and right side of my face due to significant nerve damage. I can't chew properly; food falls out of my mouth when I eat because of the numbness of my lip and face. During the healing process, my jaws were wired shut for four weeks. I required considerable dental work. Teeth had to be removed and so on. The pain in my neck will never go away.
I guess I was close to dying. This happened on November 4. On October 31, I had finished 18 or 20 years as a municipal councillor in the fourth-largest rural municipality in Alberta. I was euphoric. I had no more responsibilities. I had time to work on my bucket list, so to speak. On November 4, this accident or intrusion, or whatever you want to call it, happened. That took care of my bucket list, so to speak.
At this point in time, as of today, the knife slash has healed satisfactorily, but my right eye is permanently damaged. I have to close my right eye in order to read. I'm an avid reader, but I can't do that anymore. The jaw fractures have healed more or less okay. The right side of my face is partially distorted and it is obvious, especially to me every time I look in the mirror. It required four titanium plates to reconstruct my jaw: one on each side, one down here.... I had two jaw fractures.
The nerve damage to the right side of my face has not repaired. I'm stuck with this for the rest of my life, and it results in terrible difficulties eating. I'm very reluctant to eat in public because the food drools down my face and I can't feel it. I can't chew properly, so we don't go out for dinner anymore.
The left—