Life Goes On

After my sister, Cindy, died, I was amazed that the rest of the world went on as usual. This immediate sense of isolation hit full force when, from the window of a limo en route to her funeral, I watched the world go by.

Before the limo picked us up for the funeral, some family pictures were taken. We all looked so morose. I sat in the back of the limo between my parents and held mom’s hand. Her hand was very warm whereas my own hand felt like ice. I looked at mom. She looked at me. She squeezed my hand. I felt like a zombie.

The limo driver was a young woman who took us along the waterfront around Richmond, B.C. Canada.

It was a long ride on a sunny day.

I looked out the window and watched the people, the trees, the water, the birds, everything go by.

Life was still carrying on out there.

Life was at a standstill for me.

I dreaded arriving at the funeral home, wondering what it would be like. I thought, “My God, we will be paying our respects to Cindy. She is dead. She must be. If everyone is acting this way and going to her funeral, then she must be dead.”

Oh God, I hadn’t wanted it to be true.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

I knew I would be publishing Who Killed My Sister, My Friend one day, because of a dream...

...I am walking under a canopy of branches and heading down some stone steps that are cool to the touch, until I arrive upon a breathtaking beach. On this sweltering summer day I seem to have found my perfectly secluded spot.

Stepping onto the hot sand, I am mesmerized by the ocean's waves licking the shore. My tongue detects salt in the air. The magical pan flute of Zamfir tickles the hair in my ears. I hum along.

Looking far to my right, I see someone already soaking up my perfect day. She is reading a book while lying on a fuzzy purple beach towel large enough for two people.

She is alone.

There is something familiar about her and curiosity draws me closer.

It does not come as a surprise that it is my dead sister, Cindy. She looks radiant. She is so engrossed in a fascinating book that she does not take notice of me until I am right beside her. She calmly lays the book down, turns her eyes to me, and smiles an approving smile. As soon as I glance at the book I know immediately what I will do one day. The book she is reading is called My Sister, My Friend - and I, Melanie Hack, am its author.

She wants this story, this incredible mystery that was her life, shared.

And she wants me to write it. Realizing all stories without an end never go away, I understand the message veiled in her eyes. It relates to how she wrote on June 2, 1988, almost exactly one year prior to her body being found, "I feel a strong need for justice that I have to accept will never occur."

Melanie Hack
author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Did You Know Cindy James?

Imagine my surprise when I recently received an email from a young woman, now living in North Vancouver, who had been a Blenheim House client of my sister, Cindy James, three or four years before Cindy’s mysterious death in 1989. She said, “Cindy told me there were really bad people in this world and that it’s normal and ok to be scared (little did I really know at 4) but that you had to place your trust in someone, anyone. She was my someone. I would like to thank you and your family for raising a daughter and sister that was my safe place. We were close. She came to scatter my mom’s ashes. She was at my baptism. She gave me strength and hope. I could go on for hours. I miss her as everyone does. … I have spent many years going over news clippings from her murder. I am firm that that is what it truly was. Murder. Cindy was the only person I would trust. Cindy gave me the faith to trust. I would love to give it back.”

Does that sound like someone children needed to fear? Would it surprise you to know a secret C-237 RCMP report had stated in 1986, “Conversation with a (Force) psychologist, who does not know Makepeace [Cindy James] but was advised of Makepeace’s history [7 years of threats and harassment against Cindy], finds the following:

“Makepeace … should be considered as a dangerous person around children. … Further, it was suggested that, because she works with children with behavioral problems (Blenheim House), the school should be notified.” Within weeks, Cindy’s employment at Blenheim House was terminated. It is outrageous to think that someone who never even interviewed or spent any time with Cindy, could come up with such a belief and that the police would act on that opinion as if it were a fact.

And I believe that when Cindy lost her job, the course of her life took a downward turn. This was something she never recovered from. Her kids, her job, and her coworkers were her lifeboats in a world of turmoil. Years later I would discover Cindy wrote about losing them--within the hidden papers I found.

This young woman who recently contacted me, haunted by dreams of Cindy since she was 10, wrote in an e-mail to me, "My dreams, she is sitting in her office at Blenheim House and she's petting her black dog saying that she's scared of people too and that it's ok. She repeats this over and over. Others are when she visited my adopted parents house and she was pushing me on the swing in our yard. In this dream she is asking me how the air feels, almost begging me to tell her it's fresh and cool. I truly don't know the meaning behind these at all. As I have said, she haunts me. Or maybe I feel the need to help her the way she did for myself."

If you have any memories of Cindy, or any information about her life and death, please contact me.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Who knew there was an Unsolved Mysteries message board?

I had no idea so many people were still avidly debating the death of my sister, Cindy James. I was recently invited to post a message on the UM message board after someone wrote a note to me by gaining access through my website. It has been wonderful to receive so many messages from people all over the world passing on condolences and wishes to my family. I just want to say thank you, and I appreciate all the support that has been shown. I have spent several years meticulously pouring over police files and inquest notes looking for the missed information to solve this case. If you would like to be notified when the book is ready, drop by my website.
Thanks again for your support.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Canada's Pickton Trial Horror

The Pickton trial started today and I find myself concerned for the families of the victims. To read how one couple left the courtroom sobbing, breaks my heart. Then when I saw the mother of one of the murdered women exclaim on TV how you can never be prepared for the gruesome details that are presented at trial, I thought how true that is.

When my sister, Cindy James, died and I saw the pictures of her decomposing body, I thought the photos were horrific and her death seemed unreal. Her face was black and her mouth was open with the teeth on the right side of her head exposed. In another photo, I saw her trussed body. I saw her naked and partially mummified body. The photos were so cold, so impersonal, and my heart was clutched in an icy grip and my brain went numb from grief.

Then when I read her autopsy report - that was worse. I thought I had been catapulted into Hell because the written words were chilling and gruesome and such a violation of my beloved sister.

But, in court, watching a police video of the death scene showing Cindy’s body from several angles as well as the abandoned house and the general area where she was found, and more video showing Cindy’s uncovered body lying on a gurney, on her stomach with her arms and legs still tied behind her and the stocking still around her neck while Dr. Sheila Carslile, an expert forensic pathologist in the Coroner’s Service in the Fraser Region of B.C. was talking on the video as she examined the ligatures during this post mortem, I was in shock. I wanted to escape that room and run and never look back, but as surely as my heart was bleeding from pain, I wanted an answer to her death, so I felt compelled to endure the horror. I listened to people talk about Cindy as if she was a body and not a real person, and many times I felt like screaming, “That is Cindy you are talking about—not Cindy James! She was more than just a name!”

So I empathize with the families of the victims who have to endure the horror of the gruesome details of a loved one's death and remains being broadcast in the courtroom as they sit in anguish, helpless, deep in despair and grief. It is absolutely horrifying!

Thank God counsellors have been made available to them! Even so, such an experience never leaves your heart - never leaves your soul!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Phoenix rising from a lock of hair!

After my sister’s death I felt I had lost a mirror for my heart and had wanted to keep connected to her. So for 17 years I cherished photos of Cindy James – and photos of us together – and kept special mementos and belongings. I even wore some of her clothes for a while because in wearing them I felt closer to her. And sometimes I revisited the clothes and ran my fingers through the material and smelled their familiar scent. This important ritual did wonders to soothe my tortured soul! (For me, even wearing Cindy’s favorite color, purple, allowed me to feel close to her.) Over time I was able to say goodbye to some things and let go.

Several years ago the police passed on to my parents the clothing Cindy wore on the day she died. When I found out dad had thrown it all away, I was devastated. He said the smell and the constant reminder of Cindy’s tragedy caused him to chuck it out. But I would have taken it all, just in case there was forensic evidence that could have been reevaluated in today's modern labs. Then I wondered if there was ANY evidence, like hair or fibers, left in the police files (which I found out were closed as “suicide” even though they were supposed to remain open because of the undetermined verdict at the inquest). In fact, was there anything left of Cindy, anywhere? We had cremated her so I assumed all vestiges of Cindy were now long gone. Well, I was wrong! – Before me is a three-inch-long lock of Cindy’s golden hair, sealed in a plastic bag, at the back of a photo album recently put together just for me. Someone who also loved Cindy mailed it to me. So here I sit with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I’m overwhelmed. I wasn’t expecting the hair to be there. So excuse me as I take the time to gently run my fingers over the hair, and slowly devour the album one photo at a time.

Melanie Hack

Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend -
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Who Killed Cindy James?

I've spent the last two years trying to figure out what happened to my sister, Cindy James. She endured seven years of attacks and harassment from an unknown assailant before her tied-up body was discovered beside an abandoned house. I was devastated and confused, unable to understand what had happened to her, and just wanted her back (if only for a few minutes, I pleaded to the universe) But I found myself pulled along an incredible journey. Not only a journey of healing, but a quest for the truth in what happened to her. I was shocked when I uncovered secrets and hidden papers - information nobody had - and her story was examined at the longest and most expensive inquest in British Columbia history! So I decided to write a book and tell her tragic, true story, just like she wanted me to. You see, I had a dream...well that's another blog. So I'm sharing with you what I learned along the way - what Cindy wants you to know about her life and death - what she wants you to know about your life too - what society NEEDS to know!

Melanie Hack

Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend -
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James