Two Jails For Julie, by: Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe
TWO JAILS FOR JULIE
by: Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe©copyright, all rights reserved
My family life in the mid 1950s was the usual life of the baby boomers. My Dad worked, Mother stayed home and cared for the household. We lived in a small white bungalow with a grassy backyard, a shed, bicycles, and sun chairs. We were active children who rode bikes, and played ball with our friends. We were living in the community of Burgeo, Newfoundland.
However, our lifestyle was different from that of our friends Our house was a RCMP Detachment, the shed held a generator that supplied electricity to the detachment, as the community did not have electrical system. Only half the house was our living area, while the other half was the �Mounties� Office�, a room for a jail cell, and other secret nooks.
The RCMP was a big part of our lives. Often there would be a prisoner in the cell and they would be noisy and bang the bars, but my father would tame them down in his calm no-nonsense way. If the cell was empty, it became a play area for us.
One incident from those days has stayed with me. Anyone who had psychiatric problems, and was a danger to the public or themselves, had to be held in a cell until they could be flown out of our community for treatment. The �Mountie Boat� would pick up the individual, and take him/her to the nearest jail cell. Nursing stations were unable to manage violent people, so medical care had to be given to the patient in the cell. We would all wait eagerly for the RCMP plane to arrive. Seeing somebody so sick in a jail cell was horrific.
I cannot ever forget Julie, or the day we were startled by shrieks coming from the cell. Mother explained that a �very sick� woman was in the cell. The term � mental patient� was often used, but not by us. To say nothing was the acceptable thing, and we learned confidentiality.
Julie was in a cell for �protective custody�. She banged, bashed, cut and bruised herself, and Father and Mother would open the cell door. Julie would be calm for my Mother, probably because she was so far along in a pregnancy, she instinctively knew not to hurt her. Mother would help her with personal hygiene, encourage her to eat, and take her medication. She was well cared for by a young Mountie and his wife. This situation was for a lengthy period as the weather was bad, there were no roads, and the float planes could not get to us.
When the screams came from the cell, my parents both responded. Julie already liked my mother, and she became unafraid of a policeman because of the gentle approach of my father. The woman was a prisoner of her mind, and a prisoner in a cell, and often I would hear my mother comforting her. Gentle reassurance and unwavering kindness, always calmed Julie.
Finally Julie left us to seek treatment, and she did well. I believe her release from her prisons started in a jail cell where a young policeman, and his wife showed her, through basic human kindness, that she had worth.
How terrifying to be a captive of mental illness and imprisoned? How fortunate she had Cst. Stephen Jarvis and his wife who cared? With them she took her first steps to health. She learned to trust. Through the �Mountie� and his wife, with their kindness and gentle care, she learned she had worth.
�We underestimate the power of the tiniest touch of kindness�
Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe
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