Thursday, September 30, 2010


Phyllis Carter  >  Global National:
    • To Richard Dagenais,
      Global National
      September 30, 2010

      You say the public is quick to make decisions about politicians. I have been pleading for justice for more than thirteen years ! I have not been patient, but I have been polite, determine...
      d and law-abiding in spite of everything I have suffered at the hands of the criminals - Dawn McSweeney and those she boastfully calls her "partners in crime" on her own blog - and the Montreal Police.

      I have reason to be cynical about politicians. Marlene Jennings, MP twice stated at public meetings in 2008, that my rights had been violated three times. But the Montreal Police continue to ignore what Dawn McSweeney and her partners in crime have done to me and to my family. All my pleas to Members of Parliament, Members of the Quebec Legislature, ministers, and so-called "human rights" agencies are simply ignored. And, of course, the media are more interested in people who wear dead meat than they are in the suffering of the multitudes of crime victims.

      Quick to decide? I don't think so. More intelligent members of society are just better informed and experienced. We see how incompetent, cold-hearted and even corrupt politicians and the police really are. And now we have ways of saying so for all the world to see.



September 30, 2010
DON'T KILL YOURSELF because some lame-brained bullies have nothing better to do than tease you. Bullies are twisted ! If they were not weak and inferior, they would not be trying to focus attention on someone else. If you are different that makes you an individual. God made you one of a kind. If you are dead, you cannot contribute anything more to those you love. You leave your family and friends with heartache and grief that will last all their lives. You will hurt them most of all.

Instead, report the bullies. Even if no one responds, keep on telling the truth again and again and again. I was attacked and robbed by my own family members. You cannot imagine the agony I have suffered day and night for years. I have bone cancer because I was so completely depleted, worn out by my suffering.

The Montreal Police have done nothing but help the thief, Dawn McSweeney and those she boastfully calls her "partners in crime" on her own blog. But I just keep reporting the crime again and again because, somewhere there is someone who will do something about this outrageous abuse. I LIVE to fight for justice and you should too. You can see my story at You can fight back too. Don't give up !

Monday, September 27, 2010


September 27, 2010
Phyllis CarterCBC News: Michael Ignatieff suggests that a better way to fight crime (than building prisons) is to tackle the problem of social inequality in the country: "If you don't, you can build all the prisons you want and it won't make a damn bit of difference."
    • Michael Ignatieff suggests that a better way to fight crime (than building prisons) is to tackle the problem of social inequality in the country: "If you don't, you can build all the prisons you want and it won't make a damn bit of difference."

      But what do you do about the criminals who have already injured the innocent, Mr. Ignatieff ? Kiss them on all their cheeks and tell them to go back to school? What are you going to do with the criminals who robbed my family with the help of a Montreal Police officer? You don't answer. But I will keep telling the world.

      Marlene Jennings, MP, twice stated in 2008, before public assemblies in Montreal, that my rights were violated three times. But the Montreal Police keep covering up these crimes. And you, Mr. Ignatieff, don't answer. Of course, it is not in your jurisdiction. Right.

      Why on earth should any crime victim support you, Mr. Ignatieff? You live in a lofty tower that ignores our suffering. All the tea parties, whistle stops, and sport shirt events won't change that reality.

Saturday, September 25, 2010


September 6, 2010
Phyllis Carter  >  CTV Montreal:
BILL SHATNER: How we adored Kirk ! We were dedicated Star Trek fans. Great admirers of the brilliance of Gene Roddenberry. We followed the Star Trek Conventions, bought the books and pins, even had the pleasure and honour of meeting him at a summer theatre in Falmouth, Cape Cod. On that occasion, he was a delightful gentleman who posed for pictures with us even though he was really sick with a cold. We had stars in our eyes about the whole Star Trek mythology - even when Bill himself seemed to scoff at it - and at us. But Bill Shatner has fallen from grace. His recent efforts are an embarrassment and a betrayal of the idealism Star Trek instilled in a couple of generations.  
September 25, 2010 

Phyllis Carter 

" HOW WILLIAM SHATNER CHANGED THE WORLD ". He didn't. Gene Roddenberry did. But Bill has changed himself from a beloved world hero to an arrogant, coarse, vulgar clown who has let us all down

Friday, September 24, 2010


September 24, 2010
Global Montreal TOP COP :: Montreal's new police chief says he has an opportunity to deal with racial profiling by some of his officers, and he is seizing it.
    • You don't have to be Black or young to be abused by Montreal Police. I was a 60 year old widow recovering from cancer treatments when a Montreal Police officer helped Dawn McSweeeney to rob me of everything I had worked for all my life. When I was being attacked in my home, I called 911. The Montreal Police who were sent to rescue me - helped the thief instead. Since then, the Montreal Police have refused again and again to take any action against Dawn McSweeney and her accomplices who she boastfully calls her "partners in crime" on her own blog. Marlene Jennings, MP, declared twice in public meetings in 2008, that my rights were violated three times. But the Montreal Police refuse to take any action against the criminals. Please read all the facts at THE DAWN MCSWEENEY CASE - I have been pleading for justice day and night since October 7, 1996. Now Quebec Human Rights says I am too late for justice.
    • Where is Cliff Carter's badge? Dawn McSweeney stole it from 4995 Prince of Wales, NDG, Montreal on October 7, 1996 along with all my most precious jewellery and much more. Whatever she did with Cliff's badge, it has to be somewhere. Cliff wore that New Jersey Deputy Sheriff's badge with pride. It is more precious to me than gold. It is somewhere - and I will pay a handsome reward for its return. I will pay an even bigger reward to see Dawn McSweeney in prison. Can you help ? I'll make it worth your while.


Where is Cliff Carter's badge? Dawn McSweeney stole it from 4995 Prince of Wales, NDG, Montreal on October 7, 1996. Whatever she did with it, it has to be somewhere.
Cliff wore that Deputy Sheriff's badge with pride. It is more precious to me than gold.
If Dawn McSweeney thinks that I will ever give up looking for it, she is sorely mistaken. Whatever she did with it, it is somewhere - and I will pay a handsome reward for its return.
I will pay an even bigger reward to see Dawn McSweeney in prison.
Can you help ?  I'll make it worth your while.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


September 21, 2010
hi friend, I'm at the library in Wollongong Australia, I can use the computer for two hours free every day, I read all of your Dawn McSweeny case. Its sadly a familiar story. I know it all to well. What a couple of cops with a bee in their bonnet can do when you speak out. Sounds like they had already made their decision on your case before they attended when you phoned 911, Can you please tell me if you have had problems with police taking your reports prior to the night you were robbed, it may help me to understand the situation better....Are there a lot of teenagers in your local area, if so what do they get up to at night, besides robbing national treasures such as yourself.......
When I called 911, I don't believe they had any intentions toward me. It was the individual officer who botched the job. He took me out of my home after he told me in front of my assailant that I could not take anything with me and I must never come back to the house. Then he did not file a police report. That Montreal Police officer destroyed our lives. Dawn McSweeney would surely have pilfered - but that Montreal Police officer gave her everything I had worked for all my life. And since the Montreal Police refused to take any action against Dawn McSweeney, these thieves later stole my parents' home and all their money too.

There is a lot of crime in my area. We hear the police sirens at night and racing cars. Every day on the news, we hear of big drug busts and even shootings in NDG, Montreal. But the Montreal Police are blind, deaf and dumb when it comes to this case where a Montreal Police officer helped Dawn McSweeney and her partners to destroy our family.

The cover-up in this case is so thick, so many officers are involved in covering up one after the other right up to Quebec's Police Ethics Commissioner Denis Racicot who just said "the case is closed".

It is clear that this case was never opened. The police just kept covering up, so current young officers prefer to pretend we don't exist. But we do exist and the crimes did take place and the Montreal Police did help the thieves and they have been covering up ever since.

I am glad that people all over the world are taking an interest in this case now. All the way over in Australia, you now know that the Montreal Police have incompetent and corrupt officers and a corrupt system. Tell your friends. Write about it. The only weapon I have is the truth and the truth will bring us justice, because somewhere in the world there is an honest person who has both authority and a true love of justice. Like Diogenes, I am searching for that one honourable, courageous person who loves justice more than money.
I had no experience with the police before I was robbed.

Monday, September 20, 2010



September 12, 2010
Phyllis Carter  Global National:
MONTREAL POLICE TURNED OVER ALL MY LIFE'S POSSESSIONS TO MY ASSAILANT. Which Quebec statute permits a Montreal Police officer to evict from her home the victim of an attack who called 911 for help - a 60 year old widow, cancer patient, evicted without any justification, warning or legal procedure - to leave her homeless and destitute in the streets of Montreal in October without so much as a coat, and to give all her personal possessions to her assailant, without any court procedure? To this day, the Montreal Police refuse to take any action against the thief who robbed me and my family. To this day, the Montreal Police have not answered this letter. See PHYLLIS CARTER'S JOURNAL at
Phyllis Carter   CBC News: :
LETTER TO MONTREAL POLICE STILL UNANSWERED. - I am a victim of the Montreal Police. I have been pleading for justice since I was attacked and robbed in my home at 4995 Prince of Wales, NDG, Montreal, Quebec, on October 7, 1996. While I was being attacked, I managed to wrestle the phone from my assailant and call 911. The police I called to rescue me - helped the thief instead - and the Montreal Police have been covering up ever since. On October 28, 2002, I sent the following letter to - -
Commander Francois Anger,
MUC Police, Station 11,
6255 Somerled,
Montreal, Quebec
H3X 2B7.
Dear Sir,
Thank you for taking the time to write to me and thank you for the copy of a letter from Commander Paquin. I find no record of the original and I do not recognize the contents.
You tell me that the case is closed, but there are many questions that remain unanswered:
Can you tell me why the Police at the Mariette Station refused again and again to file a report of the October 7, 1996 attack and robbery - until March, 1997?
Can you tell me why Sgt. Det. Sylvie Laverdiere told me, the victim, to do the investigation myself and send her the reports ? In normal practice, I believe, the detective should have followed up my leads and sent me the police reports.
Can you tell me why, in the middle of March, 1997, the police officers at the Mariette Station told me to go to the house (4995 Prince of Wales) and ask for my jewellery?
After mocking me and laughing in my face, Dawn McSweeney (who had robbed me) called the police while I stood outside my home in the cold begging for my own belongings. And the same two police officers came to the house and asked me to leave.
Who had such power to intimidate those officers? A teenage thief ?
Can you tell me why the Police Ethics Commissioner, Denis Racicot,  never spoke to me, never interviewed me? Can you tell me why he was so eager to close the case ? Is it because, as the letter from his assistant, Maitre Monty, says, the MUC Police have "large powers and vast authority" ? Large powers to help criminals? Vast authority to rob widows?
Can you tell me why, for six years, I have been denied a copy of the police reports on my case? I believe that police reports - certainly of "closed cases" - would be Public Record available to any citizen.
The police at the Mariette Station told me that all my belongings would be returned to me if I would "just be patient". I have been waiting for six years. I never rest. My husband cannot rest in peace while I am still going through this nightmare. Cliff could not rest while the badge he wore with dignity, courage and devotion is in the hands of the thief.
You can bury the file, refuse to pursue the criminal, refuse to make any serious effort to recover the stolen goods, close your eyes and your ears to the truth, but there will be no closure to this case until my belongings are returned or the thief is in jail.
The investigation is accelerating and will expand until everything Dawn McSweeney stole is returned. I will be presenting my case to Human Rights and Civil Rights organizations.
At present I am bringing my case to government representatives, commissions and agents including those of the United States. Several of the items Dawn McSweeney stole belonged to my husband who was an American and an officer of the law in the United States. He served proudly as a deputy sheriff in the State of New Jersey - hence the badge Dawn stole - and he was entrusted with confidential work by the U.S. Department of the Treasury.
My husband was loved and respected wherever he went. He was an honourable, decent, courageous man. I have reason to believe that American law officers who knew Cliff early in their careers will also be interested in his widow's plight.
We require the following pertinent information: Copies of all police reports relating to this case. Since all citizens have a right to know the laws of the land - the number, date and source of the statute upon which the policeman acted on October 7, 1996:
Which Quebec statute permits a Montreal Urban Police officer to evict from her home the victim of an attack who called 911 for help - a 60 year old widow, cancer patient, evicted without any justification, warning or legal procedure - to leave her homeless and destitute in the streets of Montreal in October without so much as a coat, and to give all her personal possessions to her assailant, without any court procedure?
Thank you in advance for your good faith.
Phyllis Carter
Copied to: Marlene Jennings, M.P.
Russell Copeman, M.N.A.
Marcel Tremblay, Montreal City Councillor
This letter was never answered. My battle for justice continues.
The concerned reader will find detailed reports of these crimes at
Sent to: The Montreal Police at, and at,  and to,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Sunday, September 19, 2010


September 19, 2010

Pat Brown Why do they ask you the date and day of week at the hospital to see if you are okay? I don't hardly ever know the right answer....
MONTREAL POLICE DETERMINE SANITY: In Montreal, police told me that my mother was mentally stable because she knew the names of her children, the date and her address. They didn't ask about her tea leaves, crystals and the telepathic beings who landed their UFO in our back yard. My mother was a loving and devoted parent, but she had problems and the Montreal Police did nothing to help us. See THE DAWN MCSWEENEY CASE -
  • My dear dead mother could not read or write but actually was very smart. At one of her hospital stays a stand in doc came into her room. He said hello...blablabla. Mrs.W do u know what today is? No, Do u know what year this is? No. Do u know who the president is? No,do you? Ah,mam I'm very concerned that you can't remember any of these basic facts. I sat there as long as I could. Trying to hide my smile I said"she can't read or write and really doesn't keep up with day to day things." BUT...ask her who her Doctor is and his phone #. She shot that off to him,1 2 3. Ask her my whole name and my phone #,she spit that one out. I told him...we can give u more examples of phone #'s if you want. He left out of the room and my mom said"thats the stupidest Doctor I've ever met. " He has a degree and asking me stuff he didn't know. I still get a belly laugh outa that one. She couldn't read/write/never drove a car but held down jobs. that amazed me.
  • Liz, that's what happens because people in authority go by the book. They don't think. They don't consider the individual. They act like puppets. And that is why so much injustice is visited on us when we are at our most vulnerable. It makes you want to scream. But if you do, they will say you are mentally unstable. So don't scream no matter how stupidly you are treated by people who are given authority over your life.

    In response to American experiences with their own Injustice Systems.
    September 19, 2010
    My own case involves robbery and the tearing apart of my family, but I am still running into the same problem - " Case closed !" That's the way the authorities try to shut you up. The Montreal Police hold all the power. Crime victims are powerless unless they can afford expensive lawyers and long, drawn out court processes. So all the police have to do is say, "Case closed". They don't have to speak to you, or hear any evidence, or discuss anything. I have provided them with documents, appraisals, photographs, receipts, insurance papers, detailed inventories, and diskettes full of facts. They don't have to answer any questions or explain their actions. They just shut the door in your face. That is Montreal, Quebec, Canada where there is justice only for the rich. Case - never closed as long as I can speak and think and write. See THE DAWN MCSWEENEY CASE -


    September 19, 2010

    Apart from caring for the victims, there is nothing more important than catching criminals and seeing to it that they receive the punishment they deserve. The problem with Canada's Legal System is that it does not include JUSTICE. It is a game where lawyers hold all the cards and criminals have all the rights. The police stand by waiting for orders while trying to find their discount coupons for Tim Horton. The politicians contemplate their navels - what's in it for them. The victims? No one seems to care. Oh ! Canada. We stand on guard for - what ?

    Saturday, September 18, 2010


    September 18, 2010

    Phyllis Carter Domestic Abuse Awareness NetworkCANADA IS PARADISE FOR CRIMINALS. I am a 74 year old Canadian journalist, crime victim and cancer patient. I was attacked and robbed in my home in Montreal. I managed to call 911 The police I called to rescue me - helped the thief instead. Since then, the Montreal Police have refused again and again to take any action against the thief, Dawn McSweeney, and her self-proclaimed, "partners in crime." All the details of these crimes are reported on my blogs: PHYLLIS CARTER'S JOURNAL at and I do not want money. I will not accept any compensation. I want justice.
    Yesterday, I  reported this case to someone in Australia. The details of this case and the truth about Montreal, Quebec and Canada's Injustice System - are being talked about by people all over the world now - and I will keep reporting these facts until justice is done. 

    Thursday, September 16, 2010


    To the Jewish General Hospital Complaints Commissioner
    April 23, 2009
    I am home right now, Rosemary, but I don't know if I'm coming or going.
    Dr. Very Stern said he wanted another test done today but he would not let me stay overnight. I had to go home and come back in spite of the stress and the cost of taxis. Dr. Stern told me that if I could not come back for the test, it was my own problem. He said,  "You are responsible for your own life."
    A male nurse named Yannick pulled the painful catheter from my wrist leaving me with blood running down my arm and onto my gown, the papers and the floor.
    As I was leaving Number 33 Red in Emergency, an older nurse with long blonde hair grimaced at me and said, "You have the best doctors here. Why aren't you satisfied?"
    I said I was satisfied with my doctors.
    She said, "Then why don't you just go home and stop complaining?"
    I told her she doesn't know my circumstances. I live alone and I am very weak.
    She told me to ask my neighbours to help me.
    I do not impose upon my friends and neighbours. They all have their own problems.
    The nurse told me to go out into the neighbourhood and do good for others and then maybe someone would help me.
    I needed that !
    It took me about twenty minutes to walk from the taxi to my apartment yesterday. I arrived at about 8:00 PM. I was so totally exhausted it was after 10 AM when I woke up and I have been too tired to do anything but sleep all day.
    My appointment for the "duplex" test was at 10:45 AM and there was no way I could go. I phoned the coordinator nurse. She rescheduled for tomorrow. It will be an ordeal to walk to the taxi but I will do it somehow.
    I've lost track of time. I've been bounced around so much and tortured with needles and catheters.
    I had an appointment at 1:30 in nuclear medicine. It would have been Tuesday, the 21st.
    My brother dropped me at the door at Legare. When I started walking the pain that I had in my left shoulder blade increased and a new pain started in the chest, left side. I couldn't walk anymore and it was hard to stand.
    That's when I asked the young security guard to get someone to bring a wheelchair and take me to my appointment in nuclear medicine or to the emergency.
    He said there was nothing he could do. He refused to do anything or call anyone. I managed to walk over to the room nearby where you get the hospital cards and I told one of the registrars I had a pain in my chest and I needed help.
    She told me to ask the security guard. I told her that he said he can't do anything. She said something like, "What does he mean, he can't do anything! Go tell him to call Emergency."
    I went back to the security guard and he said there are no porters and he is not allowed to leave his post and Emergency doesn't answer and... and...
    By that time I was lying on the floor and one of the crowd said, "The woman is going to die right here in front of us! Do something!"
    The guard complained again, "I can't do nothing!"
    I said, "Then call 911!
    And the security guard said, " I can't call 911. You are in the hospital."
    And people just kept walking past me, even a few in white coats. There were people selling jewellery nearby and people selling coffee. Nobody paid any attention.
    I heard the security guard, apparently talking on the phone. In French he said I had a pain in my estomac. (stomach). I said, "I have a pain in my chest," and again he said he couldn't do anything. He said he would lose his job.
    If you want another perspective, I invite you to contact the one person who acted and took it upon herself to get me to the emergency.
    This wonderful person ordered the guard to help her and they both pulled me from the floor to a wheelchair. Then Bonnie, a patient herself, I learned later, wheeled me to Emergency.
    It reminds me of the story of Sodom and Gemorrah where Abraham argues with God appealing with Him to spare the sin cities ... if there were even ten good men ...
    There was one decent human being in the Legare lobby of the JGH that day. Her name was Bonnie Fraser - a gift from God.
    September 16, 2010. Of course, excuses were made. No one did anything wrong. No one was responsible. The young guard is still working at the same job to this day.
    Phyllis Carter

    Tuesday, September 14, 2010


    After many years, grown-ups learn that voting is pretty near futile. Once in power, politicians do what pleases them and their own interests. They contemplate their own navels. But what is the alternative? Maybe Facebook and Blogs where, for the first time, ordinary people can speak out, make their cases, air their views. Using these precious platforms, we might even encourage others to speak out and, in time, raise up armies of speakers to shame selfish politicians.
    Then again, can politicians feel shame? If they could, wouldn't things be better than they are for Canadian crime victims ?  I am a 74 year old Canadian journalist and a crime victim. My family was destroyed because Montreal Police helped the thief who was robbing me. Marlene Jennings, Member of Parliament, acknowledged publicly that my rights were violated three times. But who cares? Not the Montreal Police. Not the politicians. Not the so-called "human rights" agencies. But I can tell the world. Here is my vote - for justice.

    Monday, September 13, 2010


    September 13, 2010
    Phyllis CarterCanadian Crime Stoppers Association: YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE BLACK OR YOUNG TO BE THE VICTIM OF BAD POLICE OFFICERS. I am a 74 year old Canadian journalist, cancer patient and crime victim. I have been pleading for justice since I was attacked and robbed in my home in Montreal, Quebec, on October 7, 1996. While I was being attacked, I managed to wrestle the phone from my assailant and call 911. The police I called to rescue me - helped the thief instead - and the Montreal Police have been covering up ever since. I have been pleading for justice day and night all these years. Marlene Jennings, MP, acknowledged publicly that my rights were violated by the authorities three times, but the Montreal Police still refuse to act. All the details at 

    Friday, September 10, 2010


    I was just watching - for the umpteenth time - a video tape of Expo '67 - The Canadian Experience - CBC.
    One of the featured stories is about Charles De Gaulle's infamous "VIVE LE QUEBEC LIBRE" shot from the balcony of Montreal's City Hall the day before he was scheduled to appear at Expo'67. It was July 24, 1967.
    The Summer of 1967 was a thrilling, glorious time for Montrealers who suddenly found themselves hosts to visitors of every description from around the globe and, at the same time, guests themselves at a gigantic outdoor party in their own home town. We each held in our hot little hands our own treasured passport to be stamped at the entrance to every gorgeous pavilion - Thailand, Burma, Ethiopia, France - even Russia staring down the United States' Biosphere a stone's throw away. 
    The memories of Expo '67 still thrill me all these decades later. I can feel the reflected blue water where I cooled my feet in the fountain in front of the glistening blue-tiled pavilion of Iran. In my sari, I sat on the rim of the pool dangling my toes and entered into conversation with tangerine robed Hare Krishna visitors. We dangled pleasantly together in the warm atmosphere of our Islands of Peace, while outside of the fair grounds, Quebec separatists had to be held at bay.
    Expo'67 was Utopia. The rest of Montreal, not so much. There were angry demonstrations in the streets of Montreal. And by 1971, there were bombs and there was kidnapping and there was cruel murder. But that summer on the Expo islands, we were blindly ecstatic in paradise. Even the usual summer shadfly plague was eliminated - by secret spraying that also killed birds and fish. We were not told. Like happy children, we were protected from ugliness that wonderful summer.
    Night and day, we would ride in little open cars above the crowds to see gay musicals, to be lured by overwhelming aromas into exotic restaurants - the pungent fragrance of coffee wafting in the air from the crimson roofed Ethiopian pavilion still tickles my nose  - to be hopelessly and helplessly tempted in dozens of gift shops that displayed the craftsmanship and splendid creations of people from Africa to India and our own Great White North. As never before, we could see, hear, smell and touch and eat and eat and eat. We watched Inuit artisans carving whales in soapstone. We savoured delicately buttered Chicken Kiev. We saw a happier chicken playing a little piano and, before Star Trek spoke of it, we saw triticale - a hybrid wonder grain - growing before our eyes. And Ravi Shankar, sitting cross legged under a tent, strummed his sitar.
    The present was exposed to the future and - in brilliant colours - fine silk saris, silver necklaces and translucent glass beads, exotic dance, magnificent floral displays. We gazed in ecstasy at the great works of Renoir in the French Pavilion. The wonders of nature, art and science blazed before our eyes on gigantic screens that made life come alive even for the most naive and sedentary among us. Everyone was excited, thrilled, happy - and friendly. If you never finished school, you received a university education that summer at Expo'67.
    There were many National Days highlighted at Place des Nations on the Expo Islands featuring different countries and cultures. Famous world leaders and movie stars appeared. There were national dances on the stage, and around the grounds, soft music put a dance step in our tired feet as we strolled for hours. The aroma of international dishes floated on the air easing us into their web.
    Between shows, we rubbed shoulders with Danny Kaye and saw Queen Elizabeth on her early morning visit in the mist just across the narrow canal. Another day, Robert Kennedy and his family came shooting down the water slide. It was a time of dreams come true. We were all in Wonderland and everyone talked with everyone in whatever language they pleased to do so.
    The National Days at Place des Nations were open and free to everyone, as was almost everything else. The public sat in the bleachers enjoying treats from around the world. But on the day that De Gaulle came to Expo'67, there was a notable difference.
    I worked at the Canadian Maple Leaf Tartan Shop close by the Biosphere and the Russian Pavilion. I lived at Expo day and night all that summer. I attended every event, shopped at every shop, strolled among the fragrant flower beds and talked with people from every land.
    On the day De Gaulle was scheduled to appear at Place des Nations I arrived on the site to find to my surprise - to everyone's surprise - that ropes had been tied around the bleachers so that the public had to stand back behind the tiers of empty seats to see the war hero, the great general. This had never happened before. The seats were there for the public. We always sat there and watched the performances and listened to the stars and world leaders while seated there.
    I was shocked. I stood, numb. I looked into the faces of the visitors. I looked back down at the stage being prepared for De Gaulle's arrival. I looked down at the ropes. And I was getting angrier and angrier. Why was this day different from every other day?  It wasn't Passover !
    Ah! Yes. The day before, Charles De Gaulle had attacked Canada and incited Quebec's separatists to break free of our oppressive regime. And now, the famous World War II general entered the great space of Place des Nations, and, surrounded by security, he appeared to us in the distance. Unlike the Kennedys and Queen Elizabeth, and all the other famous leaders from nations around the world, Charles De Gaulle was set apart from us, separate from his hosts. Far below us, he was being held above the people.
    Suddenly, it just burst out of me: "A BAS LES BARRIERS !" I shouted - in French ! In French? Where did that come from? I must admit now that it felt like the Holy Spirit had struck me. And - in a flash - the throng broke through the ropes. And we, the people, all took our seats. Our seats.
    The great General De Gaulle and I never met but, in that moment, from that distance, an ordinary Canadian citizen touched Charles De Gaulle and all his security and power did not impede us. Like Expo'67 itself, it was a quick flash of light in a dark world. I doubt that anyone will remember it, but in that one shining moment, I felt in my bones that I had changed a little bit of history for the better.
    "Vive le Quebec Libre", De Gaulle had proclaimed on our sovereign territory. That day at Expo'67, July 25, 1967, I  shouted, "Let my people sit!" And they did.
    General de Gaulle lost the Battle of Place des Nations to the free people of Canada that day in The Bleachers of Expo '67.
    Looking back these forty three years later, I feel proud.
    Phyllis Mass Carter
    September 10, 2010

    Wednesday, September 8, 2010


    September 8, 2010

    Phyllis Carter > Global National, CTV and CBC News :

    News reports that women protesters at the G-20 demonstrations in Toronto were threatened with rape by Toronto Police. The first time the "partners in crime" had me picked up by the Montreal Police for protesting the robbery by Dawn McSweeney, the police officer who arrived on the scene in a fury threatened me with a full body search. I will post the whole story at PHYLLIS CARTER'S JOURNAL - in the next few days. The piece is titled - I HAVE BEEN A COWARD - and it was published originally in my news letter, VICTIMS' VOICES, and distributed to members of government and the media. After all these years and after all that Dawn McSweeney and her partners in crime have done to me and to my family, the Montreal Police still refuse to take any action against them.
    Victims' Voices
    An independent, non-profit newsletter
    dedicated to victims' rights
    Copyright: Phyllis Carter, Montreal, Quebec, Canada,
    Founded September 15, 2000
    Montreal, Quebec, May, 2001
    I started publishing Victims' Voices in September, 2000, after trying everything I could think of to get the MUC Police to take action and recover my belongings stolen in 1996. Through Victims' Voices, I am publicizing my story and my observations about other injustices - particularly those that affect people in the Montreal area - as well as the stories other people tell me. My purpose is to focus attention on injustices in our so-called Justice System. Stop telling victims to forgive and forget ! We deserve justice. So I encourage silent victims to speak up.
    But I have been afraid to tell one aspect of my own story. I have kept quiet about the events of May 23, 1998 when an MUC Police officer with some personal problems of his own took action to intimidate me, to humiliate me and to destroy my credibility. I have been afraid to publicize this part of my story because I was afraid that people would believe exactly what that policeman hoped people would believe. I have kept this part of my story quiet - except for my repeated appeals to the Police Ethics Commissioner. But Me.Denis Racicot and his lawyer, Me. Paul Monty refused to act. I suddenly realized that my silence is exactly what these officers of the law have wanted all along. So here is the truth for all  the world to see:
    A Montreal Police Officer sent me to hospital
    for "thirty-days' mental evaluation".
    This is what happened: On May 23, 1998, I was walking in the vicinity of  the teenage thief's house. My purpose for being there was to draw attention to the robbery. After appealing for help to the police and many other authorities for two years, I felt I had run out of options. When every reasonable effort had failed,
    I decided that PEACEFUL PROTEST was all I had left
    It was late afternoon. I was walking along the street by the curb across from the thief's house. I was not on private property. I was not impeding anyone's movements. I was not blocking traffic. I did not approach any vehicle, dwelling or person. I was not making any sound. I was not threatening anyone in any way. I wore posters saying why I was there. I walked slowly along the street, praying silently for protection and for justice. I prayed that someone in authority or perhaps the media would hear about me and would care enough to help my case. I carried a wooden cross - because it was my Christianity that had made me an easy target for my niece. The thief, Dawn McSweeney knew that my mother felt terrible about my conversion and she used that to turn my mother against me and set me up for the robbery.
    As I walked along the curb, an MUC police car came up from my right, did a 180 degree turn and screeched to a halt immediately in front of me. I stood absolutely still, facing the officer as he jumped out of his car. Red-faced, he demanded "What's going on here!"
    I explained. The officer ordered me to leave the area immediately. I laid down my cross carefully on the lawn beside me to avert any concern on the part of the nervous policeman.
    I told the officer that I would not leave because "I believe we have a right to peaceful protest in this country." I said that, if he believed I was doing something illegal, I was ready to submit to arrest and an opportunity to have my case heard in court.
    He just glared at me. He was so edgy. He paced back and forth in front of me making offensive, aggressive comments each time he passed close to me. "You're no goddamn Christian! I'm a Christian! You're no goddamn Christian!"
    I offered to remove my placards to assure him that I had nothing hidden. He burst out, "No! No! You wear them! You wear them!" (Yes, he did repeat himself that way.)
    Then he said that, where I was going, I would be subjected to a thorough search. His tone conveyed a frightening image. He meant it to do just that. My heart started pounding, but I wouldn't let him see my fear. I took a deep breath and prayed.
    A second police car arrived with two young officers. One of them was in the process of putting on rubber gloves as he approached. I was surprised! I'm a widow in my 60's, not a thug. I said, "Don't worry. I'm a Jew and a Christian." I spoke spontaneously to reassure the young officer that I was not aggressive. I had no way of foreseeing how my benign statement would be misinterpreted.
    The first officer suddenly exploded ! "My brother died of AIDS!" he raged. "Now I'm going to take care of you ! I'm not going to arrest you ! I'm going to send you to the hospital for thirty-days' mental evaluation !"
    I did nothing to oppose him. In fact I apologized to him quietly. I felt sorry that he had lost his brother. I had not intended to infer anything about people suffering from AIDS. I had only intended to assure the young officer that he had no reason to fear me.
    All this did nothing to calm the angry policeman. His manner, from the moment he arrived on the scene, was like that of a raging bull desperate to break out of his stall.
    A man and woman passing by stopped their bikes and also tried to calm him and reason with him, but he raged on. Through all of this unique experience in my life, I conducted myself with gentleness and dignity. Under fire, I hung on tight to God, and hope.
    The angry policeman called for an ambulance - an ambulance that might have been needed to carry a sick person to hospital. When it arrived, I asked the officer if I might move my car off the street to the home of a friend who lived close by. If I was to be hospitalized for thirty days, my car would surely be towed away.
    "You're not going to move your car!" he snarled. "I'm going to have it towed to the pound and it's going to cost you sixteen dollars a day!" I didn't say a word. I submitted.
    I stepped up into the ambulance and I was taken to the Royal Victoria Hospital, miles away from Pierrefonds where I had been picketing the home of the thief. It was a long drive.
    By the time I was seen, it was about midnight. Since my car was many miles away, I had no way to get home. I appeased the very strange doctor who wanted me to stay the night. I said I wouldn't mind spending the night in the waiting room. He said, "Do you see this? I am wearing a white coat. That means I am a doctor. You are a patient, so you have to wear this little blue gown." I was definitely not going to argue with him.
    Good friends came in the middle of the night to get my keys and my car registration so they could rescue my car. But I stayed until morning so as to avoid complications.
    In the morning, another psychiatrist noticed me in passing. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. "What are you doing here?" he asked. I wondered if he was someone I knew. As it turned out, he was just expressing surprise to see me there. He saw at a glance that I didn't belong there. I told him what had happened and he sent me home.
    I reported all this to the Police Ethics Commissioner, Maitre Denis Racicot, but he has refused to act on any part of my case. I advised him that the officer who was so enraged at me has the potential to do serious harm to anyone who might be less docile, but the Commissioner has closed the file, and his ears - and his eyes.
    Through all of this, since the robbery of October 7, 1996, all my requests for police reports have been ignored.
    There is another aspect to this story that is quite an eye-opener. I had attended a seminar in a Chinese church in downtown Montreal, earlier in the day that I was arrested: That is the correct term, because I was stopped by the police - from doing something that I believe is a human right. The keynote speaker was a Chinese missionary. During her presentation she reported that, in China, people are no longer sent to mental institutions for being dissidents. Ironically, in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, that very same day in 1998, a woman was sent to a mental hospital for committing a peaceful protest.
    In order to intimidate, discredit and silence me, in the year 2007, shortly after my mother's death, Dawn McSweeney's partners in crime obtained a court order declaring that I was insane and dangerous and, once again, Montreal Police arrested me, taking me this time to the Jewish General Hospital for a thirty-day mental evaluation.
    After a day, due to overcrowding in the JGH emergency department, I was transferred to the Royal Victoria Hospital, where doctors hearing my story were incredulous. They couldn't believe this could happen, as they told a reporter from The Suburban weekly Montreal newspaper. I was released unconditionally after a total of three days.
    The Suburban reported the story in two parts in September, 2007 under the headlines THE PHYLLIS CARTER DETENTION and CONDEMNED IN FOUR MINUTES ( in absentia.)
    See all the details of these human rights violations in Montreal, Quebec, Canada at