A Poison Stronger than Love: The Destruction of an Ojibwa Community
In the early morning of November 7, 1976, I climbed into a pickup truck in front of the Holiday Inn in Kenora, Ontario, and set out on a journey that would profoundly affect my life. My destination was a small Indian reserve called Grassy Narrows, about 1,200 miles northwest of Toronto, my hometown, and 120 miles east of Winnipeg. I did not know at the time, and could never have foreseen, that it would be my destiny to live in this village for two and a half years in order to bear witness to...
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In the early morning of November 7, 1976, I climbed into a pickup truck in front of the Holiday Inn in Kenora, Ontario, and set out on a journey that would profoundly affect my life. My destination was a small Indian reserve called Grassy Narrows, about 1,200 miles northwest of Toronto, my hometown, and 120 miles east of Winnipeg. I did not know at the time, and could never have foreseen, that it would be my destiny to live in this village for two and a half years in order to bear witness to an awesome human tragedy. For unlike the natural order of things, this community was headed not toward growth and renewal but toward self-mutilation and death.
