It’s three weeks after the death of her son, and I’m sitting at a table with Donna Foote Matthews in her home in Fortune as she talks about what happened and her determination to see justice served for him.
The rain is sheeting down outside. Her heart is broken and you can feel it. He’s there, too – literally and figuratively. If I close my eyes, I can still easily visualize the scene.
Jeff Matthews was a year younger than me. We went to the same high school, though I did not know him well. Jeff was involved in an altercation with soldiers from another country at a bar in Alberta, where he had moved after high school. He died in a Calgary hospital three days later.
His death was sad. He left behind a young daughter and family who loved him dearly. He was planning to move back to Newfoundland soon, according to his mother. It’s strange to think how one event can change things so dramatically.
I wouldn’t use the word “favourite” to describe this story. Certainly, “memorable.” I would rather it needn’t be told at all, but It did. I was determined to see it done well.