Why? That’s a question that Angus and Linda Lavallee have asked countless times over the last six years.
Why was their Flin Flon-raised granddaughter taken from them so violently at such a young age?
Why did they feel shunned by the Crown prosecutor in the ensuing murder case?
And now, in light of a disturbingly similar homicide in central Manitoba, why did the man who took their daughter’s life receive a much lighter sentence?
“My granddaughter’s dead like the other girl,” says Angus. “They were both beaten to death. They both lost their lives. Why did one [murderer] only get…56 months and one gets life?”
On July 12, 2009, Angus and Linda’s granddaughter, Natasha Moar, was beaten to death by her common-law partner on Crane River First Nation northeast of Dauphin.
Leslie Grant McDonald later pleaded guilty to manslaughter and received a 56-month sentence. Due to statutory release rules, he was to be incarcerated for just over three years.
The Lavallees have been slowly accepting the loss of their granddaughter, but a recent Winnipeg Free Press article ripped open old wounds.
The article detailed the death of Leanne McLean, 23, who died after being attacked inside a Dauphin River First Nation home in 2012.
Earlier this month, McLean’s common-law partner, Aaron Charles Anderson, received a mandatory life sentence with no chance of parole for 10 years – far harsher than McDonald’s punishment for killing Moar, then 20.
The Lavallees can appreciate that Anderson was guilty of second-degree murder, a more serious crime than the manslaughter charge to which McDonald pleaded guilty.
“[But] why is one murder and why is one manslaughter? Nobody ever explained that to us,” says Linda.
It couldn’t be that Anderson was intoxicated when he committed murder, because as Linda points out, McDonald was also said to be on drugs and alcohol when he took Moar’s life.
Nor could it be that the system had misgivings about doling out a lengthy sentence to a man as young as McDonald. Both he and Anderson were 23 when they committed their murders.
All that’s known for sure is that Moar’s life was as tragic as it was short.
•••
Natasha Moar was just six months old when her mother died in Waterhen, a reserve not far from Crane River. The death was ruled a suicide, but the family suspects foul play.
Motherless, Natasha became the subject of a custody battle between her stepfather and the Lavallees.
“We spent a lot of savings fighting, but we won in the end,” says Linda, a Métis woman whose short brown hair frames a pleasant, grandmotherly face.
Growing up in Flin Flon, young Natasha won over pretty much everyone she met.
Once, during a drive to Flin Flon when she was just 18 months old, she had to use the washroom in Wanless. She took one look at the available outhouse, said “yuck” and took off with her tiny overalls flapping in the wind.
Then there was Natasha’s penchant for racing into her aunt’s bedroom dancing every time the Vanilla Ice song “Ice Ice Baby” was playing. She would bounce around the house for hours reciting the lyrics.
She was also witty from an early age. When her Grade 6 catechism class was asked to name the patron saint of dairy workers, she piped up, “Saint Beatrice?”
Natasha grew into a beautiful and popular young woman. She earned spending money working at McDonald’s and entered the Queen Mermaid pageant.
“She was a very pleasant person and she always wanted to please,” says Angus, a trim, soft-spoken Aboriginal man in a ball cap.
When she was 16, Natasha left Flin Flon to attend school in Winnipeg. While in the city, she reconnected with her Aboriginal roots by joining a drumming group.
“She wasn’t really sure yet what she wanted to do – she had different ideas,” says Linda. “We just told her that she’ll know when she gets there: ‘Even though you don’t know right now, all of a sudden it will come to you, what do you want to do?’”
Like many young people before her, Natasha at some point developed a drug problem. Linda believes that is what ultimately kept Natasha in Crane River, where she moved into a suite with McDonald.
When the Lavallees received word that Natasha was in an abusive relationship, they tried to bring her back home. Both times they travelled to Crane River, however, she was nowhere to be found.
Shock and grief overcame the Lavallees when they learned of Natasha’s death. Linda was so overwhelmed that she suffered a heart attack on the way to the hospital where Natasha lay.
An autopsy would find that Natasha had died of blunt force trauma.
•••
Just as the Lavallees fail to comprehend McDonald’s sentence, they do not understand the treatment they say they received from the Crown in the case.
As far as they’re concerned, the prosecution seemed more concerned with McDonald’s rights than those of Natasha and the loved ones she left behind.
Particularly bewildering to them was Crown attorney Dale Harvey’s decision to share with the sentencing judge their concerns that their granddaughter was not getting the justice she deserved.
As journalist James Turner wrote on his blog, the judge was told that one side of Moar’s family had an “acrimonious” relationship with justice officials due to their “lack of faith in the justice system to do its job properly.”
Such lack of faith, if it can be described that way, stemmed in part from the small number of witnesses Linda says were called to testify for the prosecution.
While the Crown reportedly discussed evidence that McDonald had previously abused Natasha, Linda says more witnesses could have been summoned to illustrate that point.
•••
The Lavallees aren’t the only ones who have raised questions about the Moar case.
In a 2013 editorial on the Police Insider website, James G. Jewell wrote that the case made him “wonder if the Canadian Justice System is high on crack.”
Jewell expressed indignation at McDonald’s effective sentence of a little over three years in jail “for the brutal killing of a young woman.”
Added Jewell: “Leslie Grant McDonald did not have the right to take her life and committed the ultimate crime in doing so. For that, he should receive meaningful punishment.”
On his blog, journalist Turner pointed out that no victim impact statements were filed in the case.
And although McDonald’s sentence stemmed from a joint recommendation between the Crown and defence, Turner wrote that he didn’t know what to think of the punishment.
•••
Nearly six years have passed since Natasha Moar passed away.
Angus and Linda continue to work through the phases of grief, but they don’t think anything will ever be quite the same.
“I dream about her,” says Linda, fighting through tears. “The worst thing for me is at night, I can hear her calling for help and I wasn’t there to help her. That’s the worst part. I think about it a lot. I can hear her calling for help.”
The Lavallees have known more than their share of tragedy.
First came the death of Natasha’s mother, Rhonda, the daughter of Linda and stepdaughter of Angus.
Linda’s son Clarence died last year, his frozen, beaten body found in Winnipeg. Angus’s son died of a heart attack and the couple lost an infant grandson to health problems.
While Linda misses all of her loved ones, she says the murder of a family member is especially wounding.
In the case of Natasha, she feels a lack of closure due to McDonald’s sentence and the prosecution’s handling of the case.
“If you’ve been wronged and you think it shouldn’t have been, and if you don’t fight back, what’s going to stop them from doing the same thing to other people?” Linda says. “You have to speak up.”
