So, as stated in a previous Blog:

… How do you help a victim like my sister, Cindy James?

I would think that first of all we would have needed to firmly establish, with documented irrefutable proof, whether Cindy was indeed orchestrating some of her harassment or not. That’s where I believe 24-hour surveillance on Cindy and her premise would have been crucial!

If only the police had bit the bullet and provided intense 24-hr surveillance of Cindy, for as long as necessary, until the perpetrator was caught.

If surveillance had proved Cindy was doing some of those things to herself, maybe she would have been willing to receive the psychiatric help she needed, once confronted with the evidence. And, doctors would have also needed to establish if any of her symptoms were the result of some combination of medication side effects, sleep deprivation or physical illness.

Even if we were, for the sake of argument, to put a clinical label on Cindy (and say maybe she was mentally ill with DID—Dissociative Identity Disorder, or Borderline personality, or PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or whatever), for Cindy, her terror, her amnesia, her confusion and her walling off of feelings were real and she needed help!

And even if surveillance had caught her “in the act”, do you think that means she did all the harassment against herself? (What about when she was in the presence of other people, such as Agnes, when her phone lines were cut? Or how about the fact that a police officer was with Cindy when a harassing call came in?)

It isn’t that cut and dried, is it?

More than anything, it absolutely wrenches at my heart to entertain the thought that someone knew definitively what was going on and didn’t say anything in time to get Cindy the help she deserved but perhaps assisted her in her death instead. (I’ll talk about that theory in another Blog.) That is so distressing to me because beyond any shame, guilt, fear or whatever associated with “the hiding” or “helping” her is the belief Cindy would have been alive today—to hug, to share life’s precious moments with.

But what if the surveillance had proved someone outside of herself was harassing her? …

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

No matter whom you listen to for the story of Cindy James, one thing is clear. Her premature death was preventable.

If only her family, her friends, her co-workers, and the social support services and institutions pulled into Cindy’s world had dug a little deeper. … To my knowledge, nobody had the whole story. And the saddest thing is that whatever information most people had—well, they neglected to share it freely in time to help her. I suspect, since privacy is sacred, people wanted to be respectful of Cindy’s’ rights as an adult.

But do we collectively shoulder the blame for her demise?

There are so many “if only’s” …

If only forensic science had been more advanced in Cindy’s time so that the police had tested the cigarette butts found after her attacks, the foreign hairs on her body, and the saliva on the licked envelopes that encased the threatening letters and notes.

If only people who dealt with her (police, psychotherapists, etc.) had done their job efficiently instead of falling back on gut feelings and resorting to rudeness, belittlement, ridicule, tampering with evidence, and implying disbelief.

If only secrets had not been kept in my family.

If only her ex-husband had not been banished.

If only people had told the truth instead of hiding behind silence, lies, half-truths and manipulation, whether out of ignorance or deliberate deception.

If only Cindy had talked.

If only (and I have a lot more) … But you can’t live with ‘if only’s’.

In my next Blog I’ll talk about the biggest “if only” in my mind…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

While I was researching for my book Who Killed My Sister, My Friend I came across some interesting things:

· The receipt for the groceries Cindy purchased on the day she died. (Police never found that receipt. They speculated she had purchased the nylon stockings that were wrapped around her neck at death—the receipt shows she didn’t. And it shows where she purchased the groceries—and it wasn’t where the police thought she had.)

· Three 81/2 x 11-inch pages of her writing—Cindy wrote about how several deaths affected her in her lifetime. She also wrote about the loss of her job at Blenheim House, her fear of sleeping in the dark, and her experience of standing frozen in the back yard when the man came through her gate in the second attack (at the end of January 1984). And she wrote about her private investigator, her ex-husband, and another doctor.

· I also found 11 pages of handwritten accounts by Cindy (never seen before) that she had squirreled away in a safe place. (I found them by accident.) The undated papers of varying sizes appear written at different times by Cindy and I speculate she must have hidden them inside the picture frame of a photo of our parents, from where they fell out of, for safe keeping. Cindy wrote about some of the major attacks and the sailing trip of July 1981.

· And more …

I will remember her always; her voice, the love in her eyes, her embrace. I am glad she is not suffering anymore.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

OK, I know I said I was going to tell you about the information that would help you make a more informed decision about what happened to Cindy. But I’m going to delay that because I have to share this awesome story that I remember hearing at Hospice Yukon (You’ll love it):

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their spouses and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn’t hear the band – he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed. One morning the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside his window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”

EPILOGUE… There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have that money can’t buy.

“Today is a gift, that’s why it is called the present.”

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

Someone recently wrote to me, “When she [Cindy] turned up dead by ‘suicide’ [according to the police theory] I was flabbergasted that she had managed to hog tie herself and that everyone was buying it.”

In another email someone pointed out that there are a number of key points that point to murder rather than suicide:

1) An absence of drug paraphernalia where Cindy’s body was found at, or near her abandoned car. (I’ll explain this point further in another Blog because there are so many thoughts that go with it.)

2) Failure of the RCMP to check residences along the route from Cindy’s car to the site at the abandoned house to determine if anyone had seen a petite blond walking to the site, staggering if she had the drugs in her at that point.

3) The Coroner’s jury could not say whether it was suicide or homicide after hearing all the evidence the authorities were able to muster.

4) Not one of her friends or acquaintances indicated there was a hint of suicide in her actions or conversations during the period leading up to the disappearances. (I’ll also explain in another Blog what some of the early cues and signals are in suicide.)

5) Her psychiatrist said there was no hint of a multiple personality.

There is more information that people need to hear about and read, in order to make a more informed decision as to what happened to Cindy.

And I’ll tell you all about it in my next Blog.

In the meantime, let’s focus on giving. To give, in any way you can, is to love—your life will have meaning and your heart will have peace.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

Ever since I created my website that focuses on the mysterious death of my sister, Cindy James, and before my book was finished, people have been contacting me through it.

It has been wonderful to receive so many messages from people all over the world. And it is very rewarding to have contact with real people having genuine affection and empathy for Cindy’s ordeal.

It is also interesting to hear the different theories from people as to what they believe happened to Cindy.

There have been hundreds of messages from people ranging from, “I can’t believe that she killed herself” to “I’m 60% sure she did it all to herself” to “I don’t believe she intended to kill herself. That much I believe was an accident!” to “I too am torn as to how she died.”

Some people believe she was a victim of a serial killer and that her murder was the perfect crime. Others believe Cindy had multiple personalities or was a paranoid schizophrenic or had a borderline personality disorder. Some people think her death was an assisted suicide.

“She didn’t act like a normal victim would act but there were other instances where it seemed like she couldn’t be responsible,” commented one person.

Although Cindy’s case is seen as “mind boggling” with “a lot of theories,” the undercurrent of love and empathy for Cindy touches my heart and gives me hope that maybe people do understand that this is more than just a tragic story—it has affected real people:

“This is really a sad case. I really felt bad for Cindy” and “I truly feel bad for Cindy. She was a beautiful lady whose life was wasted.”

“I really look forward to hearing your thoughts and theories about what happened to Cindy and why. Also, I really admire your strength and courage. May God bless you and your family,” wrote one person to me.

Thank you, everyone, for your interest, your support and your encouragement. And please feel free to comment directly on this Blog and any of my other Blogs.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

A heartfelt thanks to Saphra, Justin, Russ, Tony, Peter, Vivian, Marita, Johan, Fredric, Sophie, Sara, Dean, Dwight and nameless others (all from their various corners of the earth), who recently lifted and supported my family and me in prayer and meditation, hoping we would find true peace and a closing to Cindy’s mysterious death.

Together we are making the world a giant family!

Thank you for passing on your deepest regards, love, strength and support.

I’m blown away, not only by the fact that entire families lit candles for us, but also by the fact that a request was put forth for a tree to be planted in the Middle East for us!

To those of you who also lost a loved one in death—not necessarily a daughter, a wife, a mother or a sister, but perhaps a brother, a husband, a father, a son, a friend or other relative—may your memories comfort you.

Love leaves a memory no one can steal.

As Tony so eloquently wrote, “… I know how hard it is to miss your sister. I miss mine. And when I do, I just visit her in my memories and I feel her with me again.”

Blessings and strength to each of you!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

I believe society failed my sister, Cindy James, through a lack of proper support over a span of years.

I believe Cindy was a victim—a victim of society’s ignorance and a victim of abuse, unable to know where to turn for help or who to trust or what to do.

During her seven years of terror (she was kidnapped, slashed, stabbed, injected with drugs, nearly strangled, received obscene phone calls and notes, phone lines were slashed, windows were broken and dead cats left in her yard, etc. … All from an unknown perpetrator), Cindy was a distraught individual genuinely fearful for her life. As evidenced in her journal and other writings, she felt trapped, confused, guilty, alienated, angry, ashamed and alone—some police officers didn’t take her harassment seriously and neither did many of the doctors trying to help her.

She was bathed in doubt and humiliation and fear and loneliness. To her journal she shared how vivid images of some of the more frightening things she could not talk about left her feeling “so alone … no one in the universe will ever understand … like I somehow live on a different planet from everyone else. Like I’m existing alongside them but always separate.”

So how on earth do you help a victim such as Cindy when you do not even know what is really going on (the confusion of whether someone has a self-generated problem to begin with or whether circumstances around her could be from an outside source—or both; was Cindy tormenting herself as many people speculated or was her harassment the work of a sadistic perpetrator outside of herself, or maybe some sort of a combination of both)?

How can a case such as Cindy’s be handled effectively?

I have some ideas.

But what do you suggest?

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

“It must be so hard not knowing what happened to your sister.”—I hear that a lot!

So here’s the big question—how do you (Or can you?) come to a resolution with your grief if you aren’t even sure if the person you are grieving for was murdered or committed suicide?

Or how about if you don’t even know whether the person you are grieving for is dead? Maybe the person was kidnapped or is missing in action. (You think, “There is still some possibility I have not lost her/him yet,” or you think, “She’s OK. She’s somewhere and we’ll find her.”)

That’s a glimpse into what my world was like for quite a while—that sense of “unknowing” (or uncertainty over the loss—my sister, Cindy James, was missing for two weeks before her body was found). So for two weeks I wondered if she had disappeared for her own safety. Or had she been abducted and tortured and left somewhere to die? Or was she being held somewhere?

And then after her body was found there were theories and speculation supporting both notions of suicide and murder being thrown around and amplified in the media for years—at the inquest, in magazines, in books and on TV shows!

How was I supposed to live with the not knowing?

How was I supposed to put it to rest?

How was I supposed to move on?

What would you do in this situation?

Would you pick an answer just so you could move on (whatever answer you could live with that was less painful)?

Would you stagnate?

Would you always wonder what the truth was—what really happened?

Or would you do like I did (when the timing was right) and go over all the related material you could get your hands on in hopes of getting some kind of an answer (thinking maybe there were things people missed or things you hadn’t fully comprehended before)?

And would you compile all your information into a book (even the shocking and horrific details and never seen before evidence) so that society could learn from a tragedy such as this?

What if it might be difficult for some people to read?

And how about if it potentially put your life at risk—if there was a murderer or someone who allegedly assisted in the suicide—maybe s/he would be mad enough for revenge.

I’d really like to know—what would you do?

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James

OK folks, it’s time for cozy winter evenings—snuggling up on sofas, with warm, fragrant drinks that fill you with good thoughts and cheer. Use this recipe to keep that holiday feeling for a while, or use it tonight as you ring in the New Year.

You’ll need:

· A litre of apple juice

· A litre of ginger ale or ginger beer

· Whole cloves

· Whole allspice

· Whole nutmeg

· Cinnamon bark or a cinnamon stick

·Dried lemon or orange peel

1. Put the spices (except the cinnamon) into a teaball. (Add or subtract amount for desired taste.)

2. Into a large saucepan goes the apple juice with the teaball and cinnamon. Bring to a simmer and add the ginger ale/beer. (You can float some of the dried peel or if you are really wild you can forego the teaball and let the bits fall where they may.)

3. Simmer gently uncovered (15 minutes or so) while the fragrance of spices drive you crazy with thoughts of holiday cheer and evenings with nothing more to do than read or watch a favorite movie while curled up in a comfy blanket.

4. Serve with gingerbread, gingersnaps or oatmeal cookies.

If you need to make this and leave it while you do other things, dump everything in the pot and let it simmer all at once. The scent is the same. “To your health”…

Cheers…

Prost…

Fisehatak…

Joy…

A Votre Sante…

Topa…

Salut(e)…

Pura Vida…

Na Zdravi…

Proost…

Tervist…

Kippis…

A votre sante…

L’chaim…

Pro…

Kampai…

Chukbae…

Sanitas bona…

Salud…

Skal…

Na zdrowie…

Budem zdorovy…

Slainte…

Gesondheid…

Maisha marefu…

Proscht…

Choc-tee…

Budmo…

Chia…

Lechaym…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the death of Cindy James