Brandon Harder
Regina Leader-Post
Jenny Leigh McKay lived once. Her life meant much to many.
But because of how it ended, and what came after, in the minds of those who loved her she’s died again and again.
Jenny was only 33 years old in September of 2017 when her 45-year-old husband Jason Daniel McKay — impaired by a cocktail of booze and prescription medication — viciously attacked her. According to a pathologist’s opinion, some of the wounds he inflicted were made after she was already gone, including the one in her chest from which police found a butcher knife protruding.
The brutality has played on repeat in the minds of many of those who knew Jenny, through Jason’s slow trajectory to his trial. Through his conviction. Through his appeal. And to the eve of a second trial, ordered by Saskatchewan’s highest court, which set aside Jason’s initial murder conviction.
And after he unexpectedly pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in January, earning him a mandatory life sentence, the violence and tragedy once again surfaced. It was referenced in grim details by lawyers who argued Wednesday about how long Jason should serve in prison before he’s eligible for parole.
The Crown, represented by prosecutor Adam Breker, suggested 18 years should pass before Jason is eligible to apply. Defence lawyer Mike Nolin suggested no more than 15 years, specifically putting forward 12 years as appropriate in his written submissions. Parole ineligibility would be calculated from McKay’s date of arrest — Sept. 6, 2017.
Nolin reminded those in attendance that Jason is not guaranteed to get released on parole once he becomes eligible. Some offenders are never granted release.
Release, from grief, is also not guaranteed to those who loved Jenny. Grief has “no end date,” as put by one of Jenny’s aunts in a victim impact statement read into the record by Breker.
Grief clung to the descriptions applied to the slain woman, as further impact statements were read into the record.
A dreamer, a poet and a musician. A rebel with a free spirit. A woman who shared her love. A human being who desperately wanted a life free from addiction and abuse.
Grief is in the photos into which Jenny’s mother Glenda Campbell wants to crawl to embrace her daughter — a smiling woman with bright, sparkling eyes.
It lives in the heart of Jenny’s father Doug Campbell, a former church pastor who struggles to find forgiveness. He remembers the visit he paid Jason in jail. He does not remember seeing remorse in the man who took his first-born child.
The grief is generational.
It’s in kitchen knives, which now radiate a darkness when handled by Jenny’s brother Ben and sister Allison. It’s in the stories told about Jenny to the nieces and nephews she never met.
It was there two days after the killing when Jenny’s grandmother suffered a stroke. It’s there now as Jenny’s mother vigilantly watches interactions between her other married daughter and her husband.
While Jason’s daughter grieved Jenny’s death, she told court she also grieved the memories she had of her dad. She spoke bravely and clearly to the judge about her own “silent battle” through guilt and mental health challenges after the incident.
She’s had two kids since Jenny died. They’ve met Jason in jail. Her oldest has seen photos of Jason and Jenny. He asks questions.
The young mother’s voice broke mid-sentence as she told the judge she knows her dad and Jenny would’ve enjoyed being grandparents.
Largely at issue in Wednesday’s proceedings was whether and to what extent the court should view Jason’s mental health challenges and addictions, as well as his guilty plea, as mitigating factors, impacting his parole eligibility.
Justice Beverly Klatt plans to deliver her decision on parole ineligibility later this month.
Breker suggested that the court record, including texts Jason sent himself, indicated the convicted man knew that mixing alcohol with medication prescribed for mental health was a recipe for disaster.
But he chose to do so anyways, leading to the fatal incident, the prosecutor said.
“He cannot now stand to benefit from his impaired state of mind,” Breker told the judge.
Nolin rejected this premise.
“That’s reducing mental health to a choice, which is a mistake,” the defence lawyer said.
Nolin took efforts to convey to the judge that his client’s mental health struggles ran deep.
When Jason was eight, his own father committed suicide after which he suffered abuse from his mother’s next partner and sexual abuse from a stepbrother, the defence lawyer relayed.
Jason would go on to make many efforts at self harm, including an attempt to hang himself only months before he killed his wife, and further suicide attempts in custody afterward, according to the defence lawyer.
Breker pointed out Jason’s guilty plea to the offence as charged came only days before his second trial was scheduled to begin and over eight years after the killing, arguing that it should not weigh significantly in the judge’s decison.
Nolin told court his client pleaded guilty to “end the suffering” for all others involved, including Jenny’s family and his own. This offered certainty, and that is the reason why guilty pleas are viewed as mitigating, the defence lawyer asserted.
When given an opportunity to speak himself, McKay’s words were limited.
“I’m just sorry for this horrific tragedy. I hope that everyone can move on from this,” he said.
“I think of Jenny every day.”
Nolin said his client, whose family immigrated from Northern Ireland when he was young, never gained citizenship and will be deported as a result of his crime. A lifetime of separation for the father of three from his family is something the judge can consider, the defence lawyer submitted.
Jenny was originally from Nova Scotia. Among her prized possessions was a painting of a beach there. She had plans to go back.
She did, according to the statement of her aunt, Kim Campbell.
“Her ashes are on the beach she adored, and on a quiet hilltop next to her ancestors under a stone that bears her name.”
bharder@postmedia.com
