KENNETH GREGOIRE PRUD'HOMME

It is October, 2007 now, and much has happened since I last posted a message on my blog site.

In June, we learned that my mother who had been kept in seclusion from us for about ten years had died. I attended the burial. There I saw Dawn McSweeney for the first time in years, and her mother, my sister, Debbie, and a man I had never seen before. Weeks later, I learned that his name is Kenneth Gregoire Prud'homme. I kept my distance from everyone for reasons I will reveal as time goes on. No one can say that I interfered with anyone as the occupants of three police cars were witness.

Within a week of my mother's death, I started to receive hate emails. I filed a complaint with the Montreal Police on June 26. On June 27, two police officers came to my door with a court order and I was obliged to go with them to a Montreal hospital for a "psychiatric evaluation." I became a prisoner of the State of Quebec for three days and two nights.When I was released, I found that there were ugly messages left on my blog site. I reported everything to the police. One accused me of "dancing naked on (my) mother's grave." The other accusations were equally bizarre.

After studying all the shocking events as they unfolded, I started to understand what it was all about. When my mother died, the family members and this strange man who were hiding her all those years realized that everyone would soon find out that my mother's will had been changed in 2005 when she was about 93 years old, and physically and mentally incapacitated.

All my mother's children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren had been removed from her will. Everything in the new will - not her will, we are certain - was designated to go to Debbie and this stranger named Kenneth Gregoire Prud'homme whom my sister Debbie now introduces as her "husband". And in the event of their deaths, to Dawn McSweeney. No one knows what happened to Debbie's husband Ed McSweeney, Dawn's father.

And this Kenneth Gregopire Prud'homme that none of us ever heard of before the funeral and whom none of us has ever met or spoken to, is named as the liquidator of the new will made in my mother's name. He is also the mise en cause who signed the court order against me. A man I never met or talked to. A man who doesn't know me, had me detained in hospital for three days to try to discredit and silence me.

A Montreal weekly newspaper covered the basics of the story in September.

Those are the facts. The investigation continues.

Phyllis Carter

JUSTICE WANTED/ HOSPITAL ACCESS

JUSTICE WANTED
ACCESS TO HOSPITALS -

AN OBSTACLES COURSE

As we go through life, things happen to us about which we have little choice. We become victims of age or illness or accident. A mishap or sickness may come to someone we love and we then find ourselves visiting that person in hospital. Day after day, we travel to the hospital to give comfort to that friend or relative who is so important to us. (Visitors often take some of the burden off the staff.) The experience drains the best of us - the worry, the sense of helplessness and aloneness, the frustrations of the system, and very soon, exhaustion - burnout. Sometimes, despair.

As if that were not enough to have to deal with, we start out with the burden of trying to find a way to get from home to the hospital. We are often too tired to stand and wait for a bus in all kinds of weather. For many of us taxi fare is prohibitive. If we are fortunate enough to have a car, part of the problem is solved. But then we usually find that the nearest available parking space is blocks away from the hospital and, with almost every Montreal hospital situated at the top of a hill, the walk under the hot sun or through snow and over ice-often carrying supplies - is more than many people can endure.

Parking Fees - By-way Robbery ?

Of course, we could use the hospital parking lot. If we were among those who have money to burn. To enter the gates, you must hand the attendant a ten dollar bill. Whether your visit is brief or hours-long, upon departure, you will not see a penny of that ten dollars refunded. I have been a patient, a visitor and a patients' advocate at one Montreal hospital for a long time and it has been many years since the last time I received a dime of change at that parking lot. Your deposit is used up. Always.

WHO PROFITS FROM HOSPITAL PARKING LOTS?

Has anyone ever looked into this? Who owns the hospitals' parking lots? Who profits by charging patients and visitors such high rates? Parking arrangements can be made for patients who must go to hospital regularly for certain medical treatments, but why is there no consideration for hospital visitors, especially those who must come day after day - sometimes for weeks or months? I have asked these questions many times. The answers are: It is not a priority - and - Government budgets do not provide funds for parking. Those are not satisfactory answers. The problem is serious. These lots have a monopoly and users have little choice.

Access to hospitals is vital.
When you cannot get to the hospital there is no "access".

I propose that you, the readers, ask some questions on your own:
Who owns your hospital's parking lot? Who pockets the profits? Why is there no reasonable provision for parking for visitors and for out-patients? A hospital is not a luxury. We go to hospital because we must! Will these problems be solved by the proposed MUHC monolith? Will the parking lots there be owned by the hospital or by private interests? Who will pocket the profits? Will there be sufficient, accessible and inexpensive parking available for patients and for hospital workers and visitors ?

Recently I appeared on a television news program. The reporter asked a hospital administrator who owns the parking lot. He stated that the hospital owns the lot and receives thousands of dollars in profit from the proceeds. Considering the needs of our hospitals and their important work, one might consider this a good thing. But not everyone who has to go to the hospital can afford to contribute.

If you are sick and alone, how do you get to the hospital? You can't drive. You are too sick to use a taxi. Call an ambulance, of course! Wrong! If you are not covered by welfare or insurance, you may want to think twice before calling because - an ambulance will cost you well upward of one hundred dollars for the luxury ride.

I have been very sick at times, and the thought of calling for an ambulance made me sicker. I was afraid that I would not be able to pay the bill. I wonder if people have died while deciding if they should call for an ambulance. We will never know. They can't tell us.

Special Transport

Most patients are elderly and getting to the hospital is often a very serious problem. Some use special transport provided by the Montreal Urban Community. My dad used to spend hours on the telephone day after day just trying to get through to the service provider. The lines were always busy. The process is frustrating and wearing for people who are already debilitated. I rode along with my dad and earlier, with my husband, in those special transport vehicles. The rides were exhausting. There were long and frequent stops as the driver picked up one person in a wheelchair and another on crutches and waited for a third who was delayed and so on. The interior of the vehicle was sometimes too hot and sometimes too cold. We couldn't open the window. The van shook and rattled until, on one occasion, I had to ask the driver to make an unscheduled stop for me as I rushed outside to vomit. And it was not unusual for the driver to be smoking a cigarette in spite of the 'No Smoking' signs. If I, in my blessed good health became so sick, how much worse is it for frail and ailing people? WHO CARES?

The true character of a nation can be judged
by how it cares for its weakest members.

Phyllis Carter
Victims’ Voices

JUSTICE WANTED/THE WAY WE THINK

I don’t have all the answers: In fact, I have mostly questions. When I was a little girl, I drove my father to distraction by asking him again and again, “DADDY, WHY?”


My father always had good answers, and when he didn’t know the answers, he knew how to go about finding them. He taught me how to do that. Later on, I learned that this art is called “research”. But there are so many questions for which classical research methods provide no satisfactory answers. Now that my father is no longer here to help me understand, I ask these questions in my own mind again and again. WHY ? WHY ?


For example, at the start of the 21st century, we see former U.S. president Bill Clinton playing the role of a Johnny-come-lately saviour of the oppressed. It’s never too late to do good. But when people speak of his record, he is remembered for the sordid tidbit with Monica Lewinsky.


1. Why don’t we remember that he lied and he lied and he lied? No one mentions that. I think it’s more important than his personal affairs. All powerful men are tempted because women are drawn to them and they can’t resist enjoying the goodies. That issue was between him and his wife. But he lied to the people who elected him and who depended on him and who paid his salary, and I can’t find any way to justify his bald-faced lies. Why lie unless you are afraid and/or power hungry? Was the White House that comfy?


2. Even more important is the fact that Bill Clinton deliberately turned his back on thousands of men, women and children while they were being slaughtered in Rwanda when he had the power to act. I can’t figure out how a man can live with himself knowing that he has the power to save innocent people from being butchered and he decides not to do anything about it. Why is it that no one talks about that? Why? When we fail to study history, we are doomed to repeat it.

3. And then I wonder how much we are influenced by the superficial. Our society is fixated on beauty. Would we think about Bill Clinton differently if he were a homely looking person? Are we moved too much by George W's or Stephen Harper's smiles and friendly waves? This might appear to be a trivial question in the light of the previous one, but, perhaps it is something we really need to think about. When we decide to vote for someone, are we looking at the person's character and his or her record, or are we swayed by the images they project with the help of their spin doctors? It's worth some serious consideration. When we cast one vote, we help to tilt the world.

Phyllis Carter
Victims' Voices

SO MANY QUESTIONS

Justice Wanted

As I watch news reports from around the world, I have so many questions:

Everyone talks about the problem of Mexican people crossing into the United States illegally to find work.

1. Why don’t the wealthy people of the world create jobs for the Mexicans IN Mexico?

2. Why is the Vatican still refusing to allow scholars access to the archives covering the reign of Pope Pius XII and World War II ?

If the secrets can be kept for a few more years, those who remember the Holocaust will not be able to tell, and those who don't remember the Holocaust, won't be interested in finding out.

3. Why is there almost no news coverage of the suffering of little girls forced into prostitution in Thailand and India - except on PBS?

4. Why are criminals entitled to so many "rights" under Canadian law, while police and elected members of government tell me that crime victims have no rights ?

Yes, I have so many questions. But I have such a small voice. Maybe things would get better if other people also started asking these questions out loud.

Phyllis Carter
Victims’ Voices

JUSTICE WANTED

My name is Phyllis Carter. I am what is called in polite society, a senior citizen. In fact, I am senior to many people because I have survived for quite a while, at times in danger and at times in life threatening circumstances. I am a citizen of Canada.

My purpose in creating a blog is to have a platform where I can voice my concerns and frustrations about many injustices which "the system" chooses to muffle, stifle, avoid or bury.

As I become accustomed to this new platform, I will be informing any and all who choose to enter here about what I have seen and heard and lived to tell.

My blog is called Justice Wanted - that is not just for myself but for all the innocents who have no voice.

Phyllis Carter
Victims' Voices
September 19, 2006