Excerpts from Pine Box Parole

Sample from Ch. 1 of the audiobook

Narrated by Lorene Shyba

Introduction to Part 1, The Terry Fitzsimmons Story

I am a Canadian lawyer who defends criminals and penitentiary inmates. I am also a citizen that wants to live in a safe community where the law is fairly, impartially, and humanely applied. Because of my work, I realize that there are inequities in not only our laws but more so in the way they are applied that can result in our society being less safe.
Part I of this book tells the story of my dealings with Terry Fitzsimmons and my quest to halt the imposition of the use of solitary confinement. This story is not told in linear fashion. I begin with Terry’s demise and then try to explain what led to the tragic outcome.
Part II is included to tell the stories of other cases that I have worked on in order to show that even with successful challenges to solitary confinement brought by others after Terry died, our judicial and correctional systems continue to be flawed.
In a sense, the way the Terry Fitzsimmons story is set out is how I envision it would be told if this were a television miniseries. The difference is that while a dramatic presentation would likely include the words, “Based on a true story,” or “Inspired by a true story,” this is actually a true story.

Timeline of a Short Brutal Life
Terry Fitzsimmons was born in 1964. He dropped out of school at age 15. He had a series of run-ins with the law as a youth but at age 18 received his first penitentiary sentence of 3 years. While on that sentence he was involved in a prison stabbing that added another 9-year sentence.
As a result, of the new offence, Terry served a total of 6 years in solitary confinement before being released directly to the street on December 31, 1992. Release did not go well. He violated the conditions of release on April 23, 1993 but his suspension was cancelled on July 13. He bolted from release once again making his way to Toronto and over the span of five days committed three murders. Once returned to prison, he died on March 30, 1995 by strangulation.
Accurate Portrayal
I took careful notes during my discussions with the persons named in this account and I am confident that when I put their words in quotations, it is an accurate portrayal of what they said. Dr. Stuart Grassian was even so kind as to review the section of the book dealing with him and to confirm the accuracy of the description of our meeting.
I want to assure readers that in telling the stories in this book, I am careful that I have not breached lawyer-client privilege by disclosing information intended by the client to be kept confidential. Everything recounted in the following pages is information from public records or material the client has allowed me to repeat.
Terry Fitzsimmons challenged me to make our system of justice and corrections better. By telling his story and the stories that follow, I am hopeful that others might be inspired to work toward what we all want: a system of justice and a system of corrections that is rehabilitative, fair, and humane. In the end, the result will be a society less terrorized by crime and its perpetrators. The punishment for crime need not be brutal.

— John L. Hill, 2022

From Chapter 1, 1995: The End of the Beginning

How can you defend someone you know is guilty? As a criminal defence lawyer, especially one who looks after penitentiary inmates, it is a question I hear often. In most cases, I simply reply that I never ask whether a person is guilty or innocent. After all, proving innocence is not my job. There is a constitutional right in Canada and in the United States to be presumed innocent unless proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt before a court of competent jurisdiction—not the court of public opinion. It is the prosecution’s responsibility to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. At the heart of the question, however, is an ethical dilemma: Am I not supportive of criminal activity if I provide excuses as to why criminal activity took place?
What follows is the true story of Terry Fitzsimmons, which was told to me by Fitzsimmons himself. It is also my recollection of the thought processes that I endured while acting on Terry’s behalf. It’s my answer to the question of how I can defend someone I know is guilty.

Behind Locked Doors
Nobody knows what goes on behind locked doors. That is especially true in the historic and picturesque city of Kingston, Ontario and in the Kingston Penitentiary, located on the shores of Lake Ontario. Built in 1835, there have been daring escapes, riots, and even a visit from British author Charles Dickens. It was not the exciting times for which the prison was appreciated; it was the drudgery in the day-to-day lives of the two hundred to four hundred men and the custodial staff behind locked doors, many in solitary confinement.
It came to pass that on March 30, 1995, a male correctional officer made his hourly rounds on an upper tier, expecting to see nothing out of the ordinary. His flashlight discerned the lifeless body of a young, caged man. A call went out to other guards that the cell occupant had “strung up.” Nothing had alerted staff that an inmate had decided to kill himself. Indeed, it would have been rare for such an intention to have reached staff. Every institution has a Preventive Security Officer whose job it is to collect and ascertain the validity of rumours, but the system breaks down when those rumours are not spread.
The dead man was Terry Fitzsimmons. He was wearing the typical inmate garb: green shirt, jeans, and running shoes. He was 31 years old but looked younger than his calendar years. His brown hair was cut short, close to the scalp (as he had worn it since shaving his head two years previously). His body was short and compact, well-defined from years of lifting weights. His clothing was never disheveled in life or in death. Although Terry believed he did not care about much, he was meticulous in ensuring that he was clean and dressed as neatly as possible. He was also clean-shaven. He sported a neatly trimmed beard at one point in his life, but it too had been removed at the time he shaved his head and he made no attempt to regrow facial hair. Since returning to Kingston Penitentiary, Terry had no plans whatsoever for the future. Starting a beard would be just an excuse to live longer. He had no intention of doing that.
Most people put up a struggle even while attempting suicide. Not Terry. He had a mission, and he was out to achieve it. In fact, the whole procedure had not taken long. He made a plan as he always did—just wait until an officer passes by while doing his rounds and then secure a cord that he had pilfered from maintenance snuggly around his neck and kick the storage trunk out from beneath him. He tried with all his might not to make a sound, but a loud gasp was inevitable. He had planned it to go smoothly, but his legs flailed about in search of a solid surface. His hands grasped inadvertently at the ligature around his neck but it was so tight he could not squeeze his fingers between his neck and the cord. Suddenly, all motion ceased. He had taken his last breath. He had taken his fifth life: his own.