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Victim impact statements: The mother and sister of Corrine Burns have their say

Victim impact statements read in court after Christopher McDonald pled guilty to manslaughter in the 2008 death of Corrine Burns
corrine
Corrine Burns

On Wednesday, April 25, Christopher McDonald pled guilty in a Guelph court to manslaughter in the 2008 death of Corrine Burns. He was sentenced to 10 years in jail.

He had originally been convicted of first degree murder, but that conviction was overturned on appeal.

Victim impact statements were provided from her mother, Mary Tyrell, and her sister, Candice Griffin.

Both women were in the court Wednesday but preferred to have the following victim impact statements read out loud by the crown attorney.

Their following statements are reprinted verbatim with no editing:

Mary Tyrell, mother of Corrine Burns

“In May of 2008, 2 police officers came to my door to inform me my 29 year old daughter Corrine Burns was dead. It was the most devastating day of my life.

A mother should never have to plan her daughter’s funeral. To look into the grave of ones child is devastating enough. It is not supposed to happen this way. The nightmare was just beginning….

Two years later I was informed Christopher McDonald had been charged with first-degree murder for the death of my daughter.

In May of 2012 his trial began. Only then did I find out what had really happened to Corrine. It was more horrific than my worst nightmare. How she suffered in the final moments of her life….after spending 21 agonizing days of listening to experts and key witnesses deliver evidence and accounts, I knew in my heart Christopher McDonald was guilty beyond a shadow of doubt. The jury came to the same conclusion and he was subsequently convicted of first-degree murder.

It would seem that the victims have no rights, but offenders have all the rights in the world. The trial took three weeks. There were pictures of Corrine taken after the attack, which I was advised not to look at. The visual is very powerful and would leave emotional scars in my mind for the rest of my life. I had to position myself at the back of the court with people in front of me so I would not accidentally see the pictures. Just one of the horrors of listening to a parent’s worse nightmare.

I have never felt such relief as that I had experienced when the trial was over and the guilty verdict read. Justice had finally been served! My daughter, a vulnerable young woman with schizophrenia and bi-polar struggling with addiction issues, preyed upon by society’s worst predator, could now rest in peace. I, myself, could now begin the process of healing, slowly putting the shattered pieces of myself and my life back together.

Then Christopher McDonald filed an appeal.

In October 2016, I went to the Ontario Court of Appeal in Toronto and once again was forced to relive the details of the case. For 8 long months the weight of the Court’s decision hung over our heads, like a dark cloud, and when the Appeal was approved it struggled for so long to heal. I could not believe a new trial had been ordered.!!! The nightmare just doesn’t end…

The road I have had to travel during the past ten years has been long and tortuous, a journey I did not choose. My emotional health has been battered and bruised. Christmases and birthdays have almost lost all meaning and joy, and are instead occasions that I must simply ‘get through’ now that Corrine is no longer here. This road is strewn with insurmountable obstacles: the anniversary of Corrine’s death, the trial, the verdict, the Appeal. The list goes on.

I only work part time now. It is difficult to concentrate and I don’t seem to have the energy I used to. There is a hole in my heart that will never be filled. There is no way I can put into words how to describe the pain and anguish. To lose a daughter is bad enough but to hear how she die will haunt me to my dying day. I wouldn’t wish these last 10 year on my worst enemy.

I so miss her phone calls; she would call almost every day to let me know she was okay. It upset her that I worried about her so and she knew just the sound of her voice would reassure me she was all right. She was so caring and sensitive.

When most people look at a park, they see a peaceful, serene picture. Children playing, a place where families can come and enjoy the outdoors. When I look at a park, I see the violence and brutality with which Cori was killed. Every park I look at brings the same disturbing images.

Cori wrote me a poem some years ago, which I carry with me always - it is all, I have left of her, my memories, and the lilies she planted on the last day we spent together. I don’t feel brave and strong anymore. A part of me is gone and will never come back. There is a sadness and loss now, which can never be filled again. I know this and will have to live with it the rest of my life.

By entering this plea - Christopher McDonald has admitted his guilt and consequently will be unable to appeal again. Perhaps I can pick up the shattered pieces of my life in knowing justice has finally been served and my beloved Cori can rest in peace….

Candice Griffin, sister of Corrine Burns

The murder of my sister has changed my life and who I am in a magnitude that can’t be quantified or even fully explained.

Corrine was a unique person with an expansive personality and infectious laugh. She was also someone who suffered for the majority of her life with schizoaffective disorder, a debilitating mental illness that slowly chipped away at her self-confidence and independence. Over the years I watched certain aspects of her fade and disappear; however, her kindness and compassion towards others and her dedication and belief in higher power were elements that persisted over time. This was the core of who she was.

But the stigma of mental illness that exists in society causes people struggling with severe mental disorders to become isolated and forgotten, often unable to earn a living or function in within societal norms. It is not uncommon for these individuals to turn to substance use and subsequently struggle with addiction. Similarly, compounding Corrine’s schizoaffective disorder was her substance use disorder. What was originally an escape from her troubled thoughts associated with the disease and the emotional flattening associated with the medications became a trap from which she struggled to escape. Cori expressed countless times how she wanted to quit using, and actively tried with repeated rehab admissions and narcotics anonymous meetings, but this was a monster that held her tightly in its grip.

As a young teenager, I watched as my mother fiercely and tirelessly advocated for Cori year after year, always maintaining hope that she would overcome her mental illness and later her addiction. I have never witnessed such dedication and passion as a mother fighting for the wellbeing of her child. Then on May 25th, 2008, we received the heartbreaking news that she had been found dead, learning later that she had in fact been murdered. As a family we were stunned by this tragic end. This was not the outcome we had fought for or even imagined would be possible during the previous twelve years.

Cori’s death tore an emotional wound that, for the subsequent years, would be retorn over and over again. Losing my sister suddenly and tragically left me with an intense sadness and sense of loss, and subsequently enduring a murder investigation, trial and an eventual appeal and prevented me from truly finding closure, as one would hope for when losing a loved one. With every new development in the investigation, including when Christopher McDonald was charged two years later, and then every court session that I attended, I was met with the same all-consuming grief I experienced the day I learned Cori died. Having to repeatedly suffer through and relive the death of someone you love is something no person should have to endure. It chips away at who you are, isolates you from those around you, and leaves you with a cynicism and resentment that you carry around every day, all day long.

The initial trial against Christopher McDonald began in 2012, and for three weeks my mother, stepfather and myself persevered through as every negative aspect of Cori’s life was dissected, criticized and then published in the media. A one-sided account seemed to emerge that dismissed the fact that my sister was a human being with a life and a family who loved here’ a family who were devastated when she was ripped suddenly from their lives. We sat in the courtroom, each day dying a little more inside, as we heard the heart-wrenching details of her injuries and the degrading way in which she was found, and we agonized over what the final decision of the jury would be. It was an emotional rollercoaster that I was not prepared for, a combination of pain, sadness, resentment, fear and, worst of all, helplessness. It was truly the toughest period of my life.

When the jury found Christopher McDonald guilty on all counts, it was as though for the first time in years the sun had broke through the dark clouds that had been hanging over me. But it was naive of me to think at that moment that this tragic story was over and that my family and I could start rebuilding our lives, try to forget about the monster who took her life, and focus on remembering Cori as the kindhearted, gentle yet troubled soul that she was. I was mistaken in thinking this because you can’t just shake off a burden of this magnitude and simply walk away. It becomes a part of you, stays with you and haunts you in everything you do, every encounter you have, every moment of your life.

The appeal was yet another devastating blow, but I’m hopeful that hearing the words ‘I’m guilty’ today will be one more step towards closure, perhaps finally allowing Corrine to rest in peace. At the very least it is a step towards protecting other vulnerable people. It will do nothing, however, to bring Cori back or to reconcile her death, and it will in no way lighten the burden of grief that my family continues to carry. So when I say that this decade-long experience has changed my life I mean that it has irreversibly blown me apart, forcing me to put myself precariously back together. What is left now is simply striving to do better and to do more, and hopefully become the person that my sister would have been proud to know.

In essence, I have lost a period of my life and a piece of myself that I will never get back, but this is miniscule compared to losing my beloved sister. I would give anything to have her back or at least have the chance to say goodbye. All I have now is the reassurance of knowing that her life held meaning and purpose, and in her death Cori impacted others in a positive way. It’s comforting to know that certain individuals who were struggling with drug addiction found the strength to get clean because of this tragedy. When she was alive Cori would do anything to help those around her, and in her death she ended up changing people’s lives.


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