The dispute was over Mohawk land, over which the mayor back in 1990 wanted to build a golf course. On July 11, the Sûreté du Québec — Québec’s provincial police force — was called in, guns blazing.
I remember hearing the first-hand account from my father, who was in the famed Pines that morning, where it all unfolded. He was manning the ambulance still owned by our family today. I remember looking out the window and seeing streams of cars heading down the road, five-and-a-half kilometres away, to help.
I witnessed my neighbour jumping in a car with other men, brandishing a rifle, prepared to fight.
The look on their faces was of defiance. If the fight was coming to us again, so be it. We wouldn’t back down.
The police left that morning with their tails between their legs, as one of their own lay wounded. Cpl. Marcel Lemay later died, marking July 11 as a dark day for his Québécois family to mourn along with us.