Yesterday, the Ottawa Sun had an article entitled, “Police prowl for parole jumpers” The subheading was, “Violent robber who threatened to gun down cop top of list”
Here is part of the article:
Det. Brian Samuel doesn’t consider one parole violation more important than another.
“They’re all important but for different reasons,” Samuel says in his office at the police detachment on Greenbank Rd.
He quickly thumbs through some papers and pulls out a sheet. “But this guy will be always at the top of our list.“
That guy is Robert Barry Dale, who has been on the lam since April 1995.
He was convicted for several violent robberies across the
country in the ‘60s and ‘70s, but local police know him best as the man
who in 1976 pressed a 9-mm pistol to the back of a cop’s head and
threatened to execute him.
Dale, now 64, received a 30-year sentence.
He has a son in Ottawa but it seems not a single relative knows
what happened to him. Police have a computer-aided sketch of what Dale
could look like today. The length of time elapsed since Dale first went
missing is of no concern to detectives.
“It doesn’t matter. He still has to pay for what he did,” Samuel says.
The article is about my dad. Actually, I should say, it’s about the guy who makes up part of my DNA. He never really acted as my father per se.
And yet, he has influenced my life greatly.
As a child, growing up without him around (he was in prison), I had no male influence in my life. My mom would date different guys, but none of them ever got involved in my life, at least not in a memoriable way. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that she met Gary, and I was introduced to motorcycles. Still, Gary was just like a big child, and seemed to be more of a buddy than a father. Don’t get me wrong, he was and is a great guy, I just never saw him as a father-figure.
Robert Barry Dale did influence my life, however. By not being there. I regret very little about my life, but one of the things I wish had been different is having that male role model. The guy who would play catch, or make me feel safe, or teach me to work on an engine, or show me how to treat a woman right. I realize that many of you want to say, “Yeah, but …” and then tell me about the terrible role model your father was, and how he didn’t do any of those things. I realize that. I realize that sometimes no role model can actually be better than a bad one. Fair enough. But, I’m talking about my experience here, and what I do wish could have been different.
There were a couple of times after my dad got out of prison when I met with him and invited him into my family. He was invited to my wedding, but he didn’t show. Then, just after Brit was born, he was given the opportunity to start fresh. Sure, he couldn’t be there as a dad, but he could be there as a grandfather. He never did.
I don’t feel any anger toward him. He had a lot of demons he was fighting. Drugs and alcohol played a major role in his life. I’m sure he battled immense guilt for most of his life. His own home experience wasn’t the greatest. No, I don’t feel anger toward him. I feel sadness. More than once, we reached out to him in love, and yet he simply couldn’t find it in himself to receive it. I have no doubt he felt unworthy of it.
If he were to show up on my doorstep tomorrow, he would be welcome into my home. He would be invited to eat with my family, and would be introduced to my children as their grandfather. And no, I would not let ROPE know if he did.
And yet, I don’t expect that day will ever come.
