I first heard Ed John’s name mentioned when a large and nasty thug shoved his arm into my throat and bellowed in my ear,
“Eddie John is pissed off at what you’re doing here, so cut it out now!”
The ruffian was named Dean Wilson, an enforcer with the Carrier-Sekani Tribal Council in Prince George, British Columbia. The day of his assault on me was June 13, 1998, during the opening session of the only independent Tribunal ever conducted into the Canadian Indian residential schools holocaust.
Dean was a feared man at our Tribunal that weekend. Aboriginal men and women would literally scurry away whenever he entered the hall where a dozen unsuspecting judges from around the continent gathered to hear what torture victims had to say about the Christian death camps. Nobody dared to ask Dean Wilson to leave.
“That’s one of Ed John’s goons” said a native man to me nervously.
“And who’s this Ed John?” I asked him, more than annoyed.
The guy shook his head and muttered,
“You don’t want to know”
I read this week that the same “Chief” Ed John has just been appointed to head the United Nation’s prestigious Permanent Forum on Indigenous People. I wonder if he’s bringing Dean Wilson with him to New York. They seem to like hit men there. News on this here
It isn’t every puppet Indian politician who gets to head up the Indigenous Forum, and Eddie isn’t just any apple. He’s one of the richest Indians in Canada, and a government insider who even got the B.C. government to fund a lawsuit for him in July, 2002 to silence his public critics with a ready-made Supreme Court gag order. And Mr. John has brokered the selling off of the lands and resources of his own people and many other west coast tribes too often to keep track.
It gets worse.
On the same day that Dean Wilson passed on Eddie’s inelegant warning to me at our Tribunal, two members of his Carrier-Sekani Nation spoke in private to me and Tribunal official Rudy James. They told us that Ed John had tried to have them killed.
“He wants our land and that’s how he gets land” said Helen, one of the witnesses. “He’s knocked off lots of people to get their trap lines and mineral rights. He had my cousin killed. He signed away all our water to Alcan and anyone on council who objected got a one way trip to the lake.”
Her partner Frank added,
“Eddie’s the big power up north and he keeps everybody in line by grabbing their kids. He runs all of the drugs and the child trafficking around Prince George with some of the Mounties and local judges. The feds look the other way ‘cause he does what they want. That’s his payoff.”
These folks weren’t just two malcontents with a grudge against a politician. My own aching neck told me that Ed John was somebody with muscle, and a motive to exercise it.
So why doesn’t he like our Tribunal? I asked Frank and Helen.
“I told you!” exclaimed Frank. “Eddie’s the government’s boy and he was even when he went to residential school. You think he wants what he did to all those others kids there to ever come out?”
Mind you, all of this is sacrilege in mainstream Canada, who adores Ed John. He’s the Indian always quoted in the press, including at the recent stage-managed “truth and reconciliation” fiasco where his crocodile tears were caught live on television as proof that aboriginal people “finally forgive” Christian Canada for doing to Indian kids what Ed apparently did as well.
Maybe Mr. John Boy and I knew each other in another life, or something, because our paths keep crossing all the time.
In the spring of 2010, just before I was forced off Vancouver Co-op Radio’s airwaves for documenting aloud the RCMP’s involvement in the murder of native women, a man named Les Guerin asked to see me. Les lives on the Musqueam reservation in Vancouver, and is the grounds maintenance worker there. He’s also a neighbor of Ed John and his charming wife and fellow government insider, Wendy Grant.
Les met me at the Ovaltine restaurant and handed me a pile of documents. One of the pages was a signed letter from a now-deceased Musqueam band member named Jim Kew, who claimed to have seen Ed John participate in a group beating of a disabled native man at Musqueam in the fall of 2004.
“Jim didn’t last long after he wrote that. You can look at it but I can’t give you a copy. Not if I want to live” said Les laconically.
Les went on to describe how Ed and Wendy run the Musqueam reservation like their own private fief, evicting opponents from their homes and grabbing their children and property at will.
“The feds call it Agenda 21. They want Ed and Wendy to get rid of half the people on the reserve by denying them services and housing. Just toss them out on their ass and kill ‘em off. The cops can’t lift a finger to stop them.”
Les hesitated, and handed me another document.
“That’s a forensic report” he said quietly.
“So where did you find these human bones?” I asked him after reading the report.
“Dave Pickton buried them at Musqueam. Ed John hired him in 1999, it says so right there. I guess somebody knew that Eddie gets rid of bodies”.
Dave and Willie Pickton were part of the disposal crew who cleaned up the mess after powerful men, including some Canadian senators and military brass, had raped and tortured perhaps hundreds of native women to death. Willie Pickton, the poor sap with an idiot-level IQ, is Canada’s “lone gunman” nowadays, rotting in jail as the prepared distraction so that the bloody elites can carry on their sick pastime and snuff films – with the help of celebrities like “Chief” Ed John.
For those of you who are worried that this article may cause Dean Wilson to do a repeat performance on my throat, or that some heavy duty court summons will clap me in jail, or worse, I wouldn’t fret.
Gangsters like Ed John don’t like drawing more attention to bad publicity about themselves – especially when they know it’s all true. Nor do they worry much about people like me when they’re being groomed by the global elites for bigger stakes: like completing the extermination of those few aboriginal people still on their land, to secure Canada’s vast water and uranium resources for the highest bidder.
Of course, you never know. Life is uncertain, even for people with all the protection and exposure in the world. And even, I might add, for a truly ab-original man like Ed John who thinks he’s swimming with the big sharks now and has the world by the cajones.
I’m so sorry, Ed, but I’ve got bad news for you. You’re still a dark-skinned flunky to the big boys, and you always will be. So at the end of the day, will it all have been worth it?
I’ve often asked myself the same question. And I guess we’ll find out one day, you and I, in the place where fear has no dominion.
This article is very troubling.