PART 2: Retracing Samantha’s Footsteps

Fleur De Lys is a quiet fishing community on the Baie Verte Peninsula in Newfoundland. In February, 2000, it was the focus of the entire province, country, and beyond. On February 6, 2000, 13-year-old Samantha Walsh went missing. People near and far searched, prayed and hoped. After 17 days, Samantha’s body was found murdered at the hands of Michael Lewis. The shock felt then still lingers in the close-knit community. Join me as I reflect on my brief time in Fleur De Lys, and the legacy of Samantha Walsh. This is part two of a three-part series.

My second day in Fleur De Lys began much like day one ended. The day before, I arrived in town and stood at the door of Sam’s Place, Samantha’s Saltwater Joys Museum and Café. This beautifully designed and vibrant structure serves as a legacy to Samantha Walsh. The night before was filled with amazing conversation that brought tears, dismay, reflection, and wonderment. 

This morning, Millie Walsh, Samantha’s mother, has a potent pot of coffee brewed ready to be enjoyed. She has been up since before daylight, as usual. Her mornings are not spent turning over for an extra hour snooze. The baked goods, jams, soups, and sandwiches available daily at Sam’s Place are produced in Millie’s kitchen. Millie tells me I just missed early morning coffee with Dottie. Missed it?  Exactly what time did she get up? Dottie is Millie’s sister, and as Millie states “the most dependable and supportive person imaginable”. Shortly after, the phone rings. A brief 30 second phone call ends with, “I love you, talk soon. That was my brother Jim. He is wonderful.”

Photo courtesy of Millie Walsh

We waste no time beating around the bush. She knows my mission is to seek understanding and tap into her recollections, events that have come to direct her path the last 26 years since Samantha’s murder. As Millie works away, I sit at the island. She recounts that her late husband George, herself and Samantha had gone to George’s mom’s for supper on the evening Sam disappeared. Sam had spent the day skiing in Baie Verte. As Millie is recounting, she is also reliving to some extent. With each recollection the urgency in her voice, knowing what was to follow that very evening, is obvious.

Photo courtesy of Sean Kenny

“Sam left to go home to finish some homework at five to seven. I told her to put wood in the stove which she was fine to do. She had on her jacket and a pair of pajama pants. It was a really cold evening, but she usually walked that in no time. George and I came home at five to nine. Sam’s boots were not there and the house was cold”, Millie recalls. “As soon as I came in the house, I knew something was wrong.  That was not like Sam. It was Sunday night, she had homework. The house should be warm and the stereo on,” Millie states. It was not spring or summer, it was a harsh cold spell in February.

We continue to talk. She is generous with her time and imparts her thoughts openly. She says, “Sam never did reach home. Michael Lewis took her on the bike, possibly Sam asked to go to the shop. Because there is no way she agreed to go into the country 8 km in pajama pants!” Millie tells me she called the few places Sam could be, but likely was not. No one saw her. Millie looked in ditches, along the roadside. Nothing only despair with each passing minute. What lay ahead was a 17-day nightmare. Seventeen days where Michael Lewis was asked, begged, to tell what he knew. The lies and deceit were not restricted to just Michael. When George and Millie set up an account at the nearby gas pump for people to charge their gas as they searched for Sam, Michael Lewis was the first to fill his tank.

This has been heavy conversation for early morning. Shortly after, Millie takes me on a tour of Fleur De Lys and surrounding area. We stop into the Fleur De Lys Dorset Museum. This is an amazing structure undergoing a renovation and expansion that is beyond significant. The staff are kind and welcoming. Millie, who is part of the volunteer group here, leads me through the details of the changes, the enhancements that will make this a place of renown.

As we resume our drive, after a short way, we turn onto a dirt road and stop at the end after turning around. “This is where we were the night Sam left for home on February 6, 2000”, Millie laments. She was right – it was so close to their home, so close to Samantha being home safely. Just a short jaunt on this road, down a short stretch past the place that now bears the name her disappearance created, then up the driveway into the house. To think about it in those terms is heartbreaking and maddening. I look at Millie as she shares her thoughts. Her look is far off, to a place of “what if’s”. The journey has been long in every way.

We continue to make our way to several towns nearby. Coachman’s Cove is incredibly unique, stunning in every way. The views here are like no other. This is a place that must be seen to be truly appreciated. From there we go to Bair Verte, then Seal Cove and finally Wild Cove. The natural sights, artistry and even icebergs, provide a backdrop that comes from living with respect for the land and the sea.

When we stop for lunch in Baie Verte, our conversation pulls us back in. Millie tells me she knew things were seriously wrong the second she entered the house that evening. “There was no where for Sam to be,” she exclaims. “If she wasn’t home doing her homework, then something was wrong. She may have gone for a bag of chips on her way. Wherever she encountered Micheal Lewis, she may have said ‘give me a run to the shop Micheal.’ Sam did not agree or plan to go 8 km into the country on a cold night dressed as she was”, Millie continues.

We make our way back to Fleur De Lys. As we drive in, just as we are about to reach Millie’s house on the right, she turns left up a dirt road, Barrett’s Road. Almost immediately, we stop. Millie points out where the shop would have been, the house where Michael Lewis lived, and where he parked his bike later that night. Near the top are a few houses and an area where one can turn around. To the right is a worn trail, a bike path, that leads into the country. This was the trail Micheal Lewis drove with an unassuming Samantha as his passenger. Right here! A sense of panic rises within me. It would have been obvious to Sam quickly that something was not right. As we rejoin the main road, it is only a minute to turn off for Millie’s place. That is how close Sam was to getting home.

The ATV trail off Barrett’s Road

Earlier in the morning, I asked Millie about a certain road visible from her kitchen window. “That leads to the cemetery,” she shared. Now, we were driving up that rugged road. This is the old cemetery. George and Millie decided to lay Samantha to rest here because she would have grandparents already passed there to “watch over her.” We make our way to a grave marker close to where we park. I had seen pictures of Sam’s grave, but this was different. Two names etched in the granite – George Walsh and Samantha Walsh. I am not sure what I felt; a collective heaviness, a sadness. George Walsh, innovative, creative, a voice and presence in any room he entered, died twelve years after his daughter Sam was murdered. Samantha Walsh, a smart, and energy filled beautiful girl, just on the cusp of a life of adventure. Both now resting side by side. Standing beside me, Millie Walsh, a woman who has dedicated herself to the betterment of Fleur De Lys, who has lived her life sharing in George’s ideas, now standing at their graves. There is no need for us to talk. It is quiet here; there is peace. Some things are impossible to describe but can only be felt.

After we get back to the house, I take a notepad and go to Sam’s Place. It is empty. Outside on placards and billboards are details about the search for Samantha, poignant articles by Ryan Cleary and others reliving all aspects of the trial of Micheal Lewis. But, inside this purple and yellow emotional oasis there is … HOPE. The “Saltwater Joys girl” can be felt in all stages of her life.  Sam’s story is more than a disappearance, more than the panic and desperation brought to bear on this town, much more than meeting her end and the hands of Micheal Lewis. All around me are memories of all Samantha represented. As I sit in one of the alcoves at Sam’s Place, it is as though I can hear whispers, as though a distant breeze is blowing, to the sound of children playing. Samantha Walsh laughed, she knew joy, she joked and she sang. Sam’s Place allows us to be touched by everything that made Samantha the girl remembered by us all. Looking at her guitar on the wall, I can hear her 10- year-old voice singing “I was born down by the water and it’s here I’m gonna stay”. Samantha Walsh was a girl of Fleur De Lys, her mother’s daughter and her father’s pride and joy.

Millie and I spend the rest of the evening just as we have the past couple of days – reflecting. The conversation goes on for hours. The journey thus far has been unlike anything I have experienced. The woman I have talked with the past two days is very strong, yet I know she has endured a great deal. “Now, most days I am OK. I love traipsing to the ponds, picking berries, and well I guess I walk my way to healing,” Millie says. Sam’s Place is her way of giving back to all who live in Fleur De Lys, her way of being a beacon as she greets whoever visits Samantha’s Saltwater Joys Museum and Café. While Sam’s Place resonates hope, joy and togetherness, Millie herself, every day, gets on with life, because, in her words, “what else are you going to do.” 

Coming soon, Part 3 of Sam’s Place: Remembering Samantha Walsh. On day 3 of my time in Fleur De Lys, it’s coffee time at Sam’s Place, “No Justice for Sam”, and beyond Barrett’s Road.

Photo courtesy of Millie Walsh