THUNDER BAY – I have 1,400 friends on Facebook. That number used to mean something vibrant—a reflection of life, community, connections forged through family, work, friendships, shared struggles and laughter.
But recently, as I scrolled through my list of friends, a much darker truth emerged.
Eighteen names. Eighteen faces.
Gone.
All young.All Indigenous.All now memories.
Some were taken by addiction. Some by alcohol abuse. Some overdosed. Some were murdered. Each name represents a life that was once full of potential, of stories unwritten, of dreams deferred—permanently.
🖤 A Personal Grief Becomes a Shared Reality
To say I was astonished is an understatement. I’ve tried to be a supporter, an ally, someone who walks alongside my friends and neighbours—especially Indigenous youth—through the hard times as well as the good. But the magnitude of loss in such a short span of time shakes me deeply.
These are not statistics. These were people I knew.
Eighteen lives.On one person’s friend …