Eighteen years ago today, a gunman walked into the engineering school of the Ecole Polytechnique in Montreal, separated out the women and opened fire after declaring his hatred of "feminists."
I remember exactly where I was at the moment I found out, how I felt as the details emerged. I also remember the outrage and pain I felt in the aftermath, when mainstream Canada refused to accept that these women were killed because they were women, aspiring to work in a male dominated field.
No one disputes that fact now.
They call it the Montreal Massacre and the killer has achieved the kind of recognition posthumously that he sought in life.
I will not re-print his name here.
I will, however, name each of the young women who died that day. Twelve of them were engineering students, one an administrator and one a nursing student. They would all be my age (or very close to it right now). When I think of all I have lived since December 6, 1989, I am reminded that these women and those who loved them were robbed of a very great deal.
Geneviève Bergeron.
Hélène Colgan.
Nathalie Croteau.
Barbara Daigneault.
Anne-Marie Edward.
Maude Haviernick.
Maryse Laganière.
Maryse Leclair.
Anne-Marie Lemay.
Sonia Pelletier.
Michèle Richard.
Annie St-Arneault.
Annie Turcotte.
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz.
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