Ground Zero: The Pickton Farm

Going to that farm was the hardest thing I've ever done.

As I stood there I could not help looking at the dirt and wondering if a pebble I was looking at was actually something more.

By Citizen Correspondent Trisha Baptie

Date Posted: 02/12/07

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I do not think I have ever fully understood the phrase, "There but for the grace of God go I" until this morning when I went to the Pickton trial's "ground zero." I went out to 935 Dominion Avenue in Port Coquitlam, where the remains of my friends were found. I had no idea what to expect, what it would look like or what would it feel like? What would it be like to lay eyes on the gravesite of at least 26 women, some of whom were my friends? Others I'd had a drink with from time to time. But all were fellow workers on Vancouver's streets. Now, four weeks into the Pickton trial, I can't help but wonder, why them? Why am I different?

I cried. I don't mean I shed a tear; I mean my soul cried and mourned. It was in turmoil for what I saw and for what I know happened on this land. The buildings may be gone, the landscape very much changed, but in no way can you erase from memory the facts of what happened there.

I was overcome by everything and I do not think I have done anything as hard as go to that parcel of land in my life.

I stared at the dirt, which was left in huge piles after being sifted through by investigators - the very soil that had held the flesh and bones of at least 26 women. It's a hard fact to come to terms with - that so many women could have met their end here, and for years, no one in any position of authority did anything. It was hard to stand there with my fingers grabbing onto the chain link fence, my forehead resting on the cold wire, thinking, "How can a segment of the population be so invisible, that they can suffer these atrocities, and no one except the dirt I am looking at, heard them scream?"

I think back on that time in my life when I walked the line with them, and I wonder what is so different about me. If I went missing, I have total confidence it would be reported; I would be searched for. What is so different about me? Now that I am more "mainstream" and play by society's rules more, does this somehow magically gives me more value as a person?