Home Invasion

I’m not sure what to make of this story, but to call is fascinating is an understatement.

Do you remember the song Sometimes When We Touch? It was a minor hit circa 1979 by a Canadian singer-songwriter Dan Hill. He lives today in Toronto. His story is long, and details what amounts to a home invasion by his (now 19 year old) son David and three friends. The friends are all gone now, murdered.

Eric out of the picture, I was forced to come to terms with something I’d been painfully slow to figure out, perhaps because I didn’t want to face it: there were a lot more Erics out there, that really, Eric was a symptom of a far greater, potentially life-threatening problem of David’s. Even though he was only bringing the “good” kids back home, he hadn’t lost his puerile fascination with the out-and-out thugs, whose behaviour was criminal to the extreme. They never hurt David, but they stole from him constantly, something he took to be the price of admission. Hanging with this crowd was like hanging with the mob: easy to get in, damned hard to get out. And the price kept getting higher.

It’s a tale of drugs, race, raising children in false safety with little discipline, and a tale of pure evil.

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