Candace House opens its doors to victims, families
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Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/11/2018 (2239 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
Their hands wrapped around mugs of coffee, seated at a cozy kitchen table, Wilma and Cliff Derksen run through a mental checklist tallied over the 34 years they’ve spent as parents of a homicide victim.
They call to mind all of the coffee-shop meetings they had with police investigators, the search-party gatherings, doorway debriefings, public washroom run-ins, interviews with journalists, courthouse confusion, the marble-walled, auditorium-style courtroom gallery that put them on show as they first heard the sickening details of their 13-year-old daughter’s death.
All of those times, they wished they could be sitting right where they are now.
“This would’ve been perfect,” Wilma says, her eyes bright as she takes in the space around her. It’s almost exactly as she imagined it would be, she says.
Candace House is having its grand opening Monday as the first-of-its-kind refuge for victims’ families.
The former office space less than a block away from Winnipeg’s downtown court house has been transformed in memory of Candace Derksen, who went missing Nov. 30, 1984, and was later found dead.
Her legacy has led the Derksens here, preparing to unveil a space they hope will help other families cope in private as they navigate the justice system or grieve an unsolved death. It’s a place they can prepare meals during court breaks, meet with prosecutors, nap in a sound-proof room during jury deliberations, or even take time to cry.
“We wanted something very homey but professional,” Wilma says.
The conventional grey, tiled ceiling has been remodelled in warm white and dropped down, giving the space a more comfortable feel. All of the decor — from the basket of slippers by the door to cushy easy chairs to the bookshelf packed with victim-support resources to softly-flickering flameless candles to the teal dishware stacked in the open-concept kitchen — has been designed to make this a safe space.
“You need your private time, because you have this huge volcanic emotion, and you never know when it’s going to erupt”
– Wilma Derksen
“There’s no marble floors and walls here. Marble is beautiful, but it’s harsh and it echoes. It’s very industrial, official and cold. And this is totally the opposite,” Cliff says.
The private washroom is a particularly “magical” element of the space, Wilma says. It means victims’ families, in their most fragile moments, won’t be lining up for public stalls in the courthouse alongside the accused or their supporters, for example.
“You need your private time, because you have this huge volcanic emotion, and you never know when it’s going to erupt,” she says.
Candace House — its name a nod to making space for victims amid courthouses and jailhouses — has received $30,000 in provincial funding this year, apart from the $25,000 the province provided to help cover the cost of renovations. It mainly relies on private donations.
Leading up to its grand opening, it has already played host to one family who was attending a murder trial earlier this month, and is arranging for victim-support groups to hold meetings on the premises. Another family contacted Candace House when they needed a spot to meet with police for an update on an unsolved case.
“Especially for families who haven’t yet gone through the court proceedings, to know that this is where they’re going to come kind of eases them into that,” Candace House executive director Cecilly Hildebrand said.
Manitoba Justice’s victim services unit is expected to co-ordinate with families and schedule use of the daytime space. It’s already being scheduled into next year.
The Derksens reflect on the time it has taken to see their years-long vision come to life.
“Doesn’t it seem like such a simple concept?” Cliff says, smiling, a pot of green succulents on the table before him, a photo of Candace beyond the french doors in the next room behind him.
Why do they think advances in victim support have taken so long?
“Because nobody’s had to live with it for 33 years,” Wilma says. “The underlying thing is that people like to blame the victim because then it feels safe.
“There’s not a lot of compassion around crime victims. It’s not an easy thing.”
katie.may@freepress.mb.ca
Twitter: @thatkatiemay
Katie May
Reporter
Katie May is a general-assignment reporter for the Free Press.
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