Author Topic: Jeanne Sivret - murdered 1986 UNSOLVED  (Read 2068 times)

jellybean

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Jeanne Sivret - murdered 1986 UNSOLVED
« on: August 24, 2016, 11:44:57 AM »
https://pre.pub.rcmp-grc.gc.ca/en/nb/unsolved-homicides-suspicious-deaths

Sivret, Jeanne : Murder - File: 1986-184
Jeanne Sivret

On May 11, 1986, Mrs. Jeanne Sivret left her residence to take a walk after a dispute with her husband, Ernest Sivret. Mrs. Sivret was last seen by witnesses at 11:30 p.m. the same day. She never returned home. The next day she was reported missing by her husband before he went to work. The body of Mrs. Sivret was found late that evening by a search team. The investigation revealed Mrs. Sivret was the victim of a brutal murder.

Anyone with any information on the murder of Jeanne Sivret is asked to contact the RCMP Major Crime Unit in Bathurst at 506-548-7774 or Crime Stoppers at 1-800-222-TIPS(8477).

lostlinganer

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Re: Jeanne Sivret - murdered 1986 UNSOLVED
« Reply #1 on: August 24, 2016, 11:56:34 AM »
some old adages come to mind in this case.... I won't say which ones. ::)

GSAR_Mbr

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Re: Jeanne Sivret - murdered 1986 UNSOLVED
« Reply #2 on: June 07, 2017, 02:11:33 PM »
Historical News Article Published in The Times - Transcript; Moncton on August 22nd 1998

Their animated smiles captured in snapshots on the night they married are a rare find in the stacks of old family photographs chronicling the stormy union of Jeanne and Ernest Sivret.

His heavy drinking and late-night rage often left her crouching down in fear. The children spent some nights in hiding, waiting for their mother to tell them it was clear, that their father had finally passed out.

Time after time, the children begged their mother to walk out on him to escape a homelife steeped in alcoholic fury. But every time she summoned the courage, his threats of violent revenge kept her from running.

The quiet, hard-working mother of four who always put her children first never got the chance to run. On May 11, 1986, Mother's Day, Jeanne Gloria Sivret, 43, died the way she lived -- in fear.

On that day, she and her cocker-spaniel named Misty, set out for a morning walk along a trail behind their rural home near Bathurst. The next day, friends and family found her beaten and bloodied body in a section of woods not far from home. Her dog, unscathed, was still at her side.

She was beaten so horribly that her family said it looked as if she had been attacked by wolves.

Some 12 years later, police have yet to bring her killer to justice. In this time, her adult children have lived by a code of silence instilled at a young age by their father, who insisted that what happened in the family, stayed in the family. His orders were usually accompanied by threats.

Today, some of her children and close relatives are finally breaking their silence about the hard life of Jeanne Sivret at the hands of a husband she feared.

Ernest Sivret now lives alone in a small bachelor apartment in Bathurst, where he spends most afternoons smoking strong cigarettes and watching daytime television.

"I'm the No. 1 suspect," he declares. He portrays himself as a victim of overzealous police who have knocked on his door too many times to count.

The long arm of the law has yet to reach him and may never will. He has not been charged with any crime and there is not enough evidence to win a conviction against anyone in the case, according to prosecutors.

So as the case goes cold, some of her children are finding it more and more painful knowing her killer is walking around free. They feel that if people are told the full story about their mother's life, and the terrifying years leading to her murder, that someone, somewhere may come forward with fresh evidence.

And until that happens, police say there is nothing they can do.

Their life together began after meeting by chance one day while Jeanne was babysitting. She was 16, quiet and reserved. He was 22 and carried the reputation of a bad boy who drank hard and settled things with his fists. Her parents always thought she deserved a better man and flatly refused to accept them together.

Her parents were so discontented with her love interest that they never let him inside their family home, forcing him to meet their daughter in the backyard.

One year later, Ernest landed work as a miner in northern Ontario and it was not too long before he sent for his teenaged lover. She told her parents that she was going only for a week's holiday but ended up marrying him and living there for more than two years.

They returned home years later after Ernest got hired as a miner in Bathurst, where the couple went on to raise three daughters and one son. She worked hard inside and outside of the home, taking a cashier's job at a local department store.

She never missed a day's work. And she kept her home troubles secret.

It was a life that few could endure yet, somehow, Jeanne Sivret kept on, perhaps driven by her deep affection for her children. Some of her children, now adults, said their father routinely threatened to take his anger out on the children if she refused to obey him.

They also said he warned that if she left him, he would track her down.

Some nights were worse than others, depending on how much he drank. To see him smashing dishes and pushing her around seemed to be a weekend event in their family home.

He had a fast temper from the moment he arrived home from work until he passed out for the night. He mouthed off at her and the children all night and sometimes got so worked up he ended up throwing one of them around.

"He used to say that he owned each of us until we were 18 and that he could do anything he wanted to us -- anything," said daughter Melinda Roy, 30.

One winter night she'll never forget was the time her father grabbed her by the throat and threw her up against a wall as a warning to keep their family life secret.

Her mother pulled him off and she ran outside in sock-feet, waiting for her father to pass out. "My mother used to say He's asleep now, it's safe to come home.'"

"I spent most of my childhood hiding under the bed or in the closet."

Another time, she remembers her father beating her as she lay on the floor.

"He wouldn't have stopped if my brother hadn't pulled him off."

And no matter what he did the night before, he could never remember it come morning.

Since her mother was murdered, she has seen her father only a few times, the last time on New Year's Eve 1992. She says she rang in the new year that night by locking herself in the bathroom after he came running at her with a steak knife.

"He was acting more like a jealous boyfriend than a father," she said, her eyes blank.

That night, he was charged with uttering death threats and assault, according to his criminal record. Two years later in Bathurst, he was again charged and convicted of assault.

On Sunday, May 11, 1986, Jeanne Sivret, wearing a white blouse and blue trousers, set out for a morning walk with her dog. At 11 a.m., she left through the back door, walked across the yard, past the small shed, and finally made it to the railroad tracks. She walked those tracks a hundred times over, always turning back for home once she reached an old railway bridge some two-and-a- half miles away.

On her way back, a man who police think is a relative, attacked her. In the struggle, her glasses fell on the tracks. She managed to break free from his grip and started running for the woods.

Her attacker caught up to her, threw her down to the ground, picked up a long piece of wood, likely a branch from a dead tree, and began swinging it at her head. He hit her so many times that the piece of wood broke in two.

He then grabbed her by the shoulder, dragged her a short distance and rolled her down a slight embankment, leaving her for dead at the foot of a spruce tree.

Her bra and blouse had been pulled upwards, partially exposing her chest. There was no evidence indicating that she had been raped.

Day turned to night, and she still hadn't returned. Her purse was still on her old Singer sewing stool and her light blue, two-door Chevette hatchback parked in the drive. More, Jeanne Sivret was not the kind of person to simply take off without telling anyone. It was Mother's Day and her son was thinking of coming up for a visit and the neighbors had invited them over for supper that night.

By morning, there was still no sign of her. Her husband left for work that morning as if it were any other day, rolling out of the drive in his beige, navy-trimmed Ford Ranger.

Twenty-three hours had passed since she went for that walk and still no one, not even her husband, had called the police.

She was reported missing on May 12, 1986, at 11 a.m., the 24th hour.

Her children grew worried after learning that she wasn't around and didn't make it to work that day. The news ricocheted through the family, with calls to almost every relative, most of them showing up to help search.

The night before, Melinda Roy woke up in a cold sweat. She was screaming for her mother. She passed it off as a bad nightmare and went back to sleep.

A day later, she was huddled with her sisters at the old family home in Rough Waters. It was getting dark and she was getting tired of waiting for the phone to ring.

Around 8:30 p.m., the sight of a grim-faced brother-in-law walking up the drive drained all hope that her mother would return alive and well.

That week, at her funeral, emotions ran high, eventually dividing the family.

The police mounted an intense investigation, questioning several people, including her husband.

The investigation dragged on for years and, every now and then, people came forward with new information that kept them pointing fingers at one suspect. The police filed a brief in 1996 but prosecutors never laid charges against the suspect because they didn't think they could win a conviction.

"They won't leave me alone," says a rumpled Ernest Sivret, 61.

Hours away in Woodstock, his estranged daughter is still pressing authorities for justice. She has promised herself to never stop fighting for answers -- no matter if the police investigation, in her mind, is moving sluggishly.

"I don't think the police are doing enough. They are not going out of their way at all," she charged.

She is not alone. Several family members have been writing authorities about the case for years. They are always told the same thing -- that there is not enough evidence to win a conviction against the probable author of Jeanne Sivret's slaying.

Their contempt for authorities and the murder of one of their own has left the Sivret family in tatters -- the family has virtually fallen apart with sisters turning against sisters. One family member changed his name to escape life as a Sivret.

The murder and the family fallout that followed left Melinda Roy, only 18 at the time of the killing, seemingly alone. "I felt more or less that I grew up alone."

One of her worst fears is that her mother, and her murder, will be forgotten -- just another old, cold case collecting dust in a yellowing police file. "I don't want it to be put on the back burner."

The truth is that the police investigation is at a virtual standstill and shall remain so until fresh evidence is uncovered or someone comes forward with new information. They, like Melinda Roy, are hoping that they can, one day, crack the case once and for all.

In life, Jeanne Sivret deserved better. A compassionate mother who kept her problems to herself, she endured too many years of torment from the man she married.

In death, she is, and will always be, remembered by a family divided. Her children, like their mother before them, have, until now, kept their pain and their stories of family strife a private affair. Slowly, they are learning to speak out with the hopes that something will lead to a break in the case -- or, at the very least, that recounting the life of their mother, however troubled, may help heal their wounds.


GSAR_Mbr