I could imagine the consternation of the female police officer on duty in Grenada, confronted with a seemingly ordinary man, who proceeded to pour out two decapitated bleeding heads from a bucket onto her desk.
It was probably a hot day, as it often is in Grenada, the sun perhaps broiling concrete buildings with impatient heat. She was probably used to domestic altercations, the odd praedial larceny complaint (“dey tief me damn callalloo!”), occasional rumblings and breaches of the peace after a few overloaded glasses of overproof rum at the local rumshop, and slices of juicy gossip in between. She probably thought nothing of the man heading towards her with a bucket. It could have been ripe purple melongenes, ready for the selling, bunches of home grown carrots, fresh from the earth, pleading to be bought and consumed, or sea scented slippery fish, recently skinned and gutted.
She certainly did not expect to see the freshly dead faces of two men, one with eyes bulging, caught by surprise at an act of sheer lunacy. She was probably right to faint, as I can imagine no rational, sane reaction to this wanton depravity. For, in the unruffled verdant green forest environs of the Balthazar area, Steve Gorrie, a handsome, seemingly normal, 32 year old machine operator, fond of landscaping and farming, allegedly hacked or sawed off the heads of two men with whom he shared a meal only moments before, with no evidence of an altercation or a dispute. My grandmother would say "Am ouais!"
According to unconfirmed reports, the proprietor of the farm, an ex police officer, a respected and intelligent business man with an interest in resuscitating the farming industry in Grenada, invited Gorrie and a friend to assist him with some task in his nearby property. My cousin Yvonne says the word "if" is weary and weighted and on this occasion it certainly was. Stories of cheating and tabanca and grudges were conceptualised and dissected, then hastily dismissed. No one could understand what motive would have persuaded a man to eat and drink with his compatriots and then to chop not one, but two heads off ten minutes thereafter, as easy as Sunday morning. Gorrie allegedly said that he “felt” like killing the victims. I have heard reports of him requesting a bucket of KFC as a meal on the night of the killings. The fact that he had no reason actually does not surprise me, the evidence points to a suspicion on my part that he is deeply and clinically psychotic.
What puzzles me, however, is that there are a number of very salient questions to be asked and holes in the account that has been related. It is not easy to kill a man by hacking off his head. A particularly sharp instrument is needed; something along the lines of a Samurai sword. Secondly, the person swinging the instrument must be very strong. And thirdly, an incredible motion or swing would need to be levelled to ensure that the vertebra is cut straight through. Gorrie may have had Olympian swing, but a machete that is used to cut coconuts or grass is hardly sharp enough to execute such a lethal blow, not when combined with the seemingly underpowering strength of his lithe, small frame. Then, having established that it is not easy to cut a person’s head off with a swing of a machete, I find it difficult to conceptualise how a man could be able to do such a thing twice, without the aid of suppressive measures. This leads me to believe that the heads were decapitated when the victims were already dead.
Why then? And how would Steve Gorrie, mechanic operator, be able to kill two men, the first a bright proprietor and former police officer, the second, a ruddy labourer? And all within the short space of time between the Last Supper at the rumshop and the Heading to the Hills? There was, apparently, no dispute. Gorrie was apparently fed and watered at the home of one of the victims. Who knows, however, what discussion ensued such that Gorrie decided that he would act on this overwhelming feeling to kill his companions? The property was reported as less than 100 metres away from the home of one of the victims- it was odd that no witnesses have reported hearing or suspecting anything.
Did Gorrie then plan the attack and administer a lethal substance? Did he deliver a lethal blow that rendered them both unconscious? Surely someone must have heard a cry, a bawl, a chainsaw (if latest accounts are to be believed). A murder in open air without witnesses, without a sound, is highly suspect. It either suggests that he did not act alone or he acted with calm, calculated premeditation that ensured that he was fully out of sight and that there was no soundtrack to his violent feature. Premeditation is not usually a mark of the clinically insane. Or was the decapitation the first step towards removing all members of the body, to suppress the evidence? Did he get cold feet and decided that since he was last seen with the suspects, it was likely that he would be suspected and that the court of public opinion would convict him in any event? Or is this overanalysis and was he just a madman with good planning skills, a build like Rambo and almost obsence bravery?
(Onlookers at the courthouse where he was charged)
I doubt that I will have answers. In any event, we may not have coherent ones. Gorrie has been meted out the injustice of not even been granted a lawyer (and yes, even a cold blooded killer deserves the right to be represented so that when justice is served, it is seen to be served and will not be under attack). Regardless of whether or not these questions are answered, it underscores our need to understand the causes of psychoses and mental illness in the Caribbean. To my knowledge, the scenario of a person cutting of another's head has happened twice before in Grenada relatively recently. The latest incident I recall was of a young, mentally ill man who last year who cut off his grandmother's head and was seen eating from it. The New Today also reports a killing ten years ago in the St David's area where a man killed his ex girlfriend and her new lover by cutting off their heads and parading them in the streets. Gory stories like these happen all over the world (although undue attention is given to this by the media) but what is clear is that on many occasions in the Caribbean, mental illness remains largely undiagnosed and untreated. No one would have thought that a man who had the presence of mind to jump on a plane to visit his father in Brooklyn last year, who had a good job and a home life that did not appear disturbed, could have the capacity to commit such a heinous crime.
In the USA, it was reported that Black Caribbean males have an elevated risk of developing schizophrenia (National Study of American Life) but in more recent studies, it was found that Caribbean males had no greater risk of developing this condition but were more than five times likely to be hospitalised because of a lack of early treatment (Policy Studies Institute, University of Westminster). PAHO identified mental health as one of the main target areas for Caribbean cooperation. In the Grenada National Strategy Health Plan, it was reported that mental health services were provided in two locations- Mt Gay Hospital or Richmond Home but anyone who visits these institutions would know how basic the treatment facilities are. There is an obvious lack of a quality, structured approach to mental illness training. Dalhousie University in Canada has offered some support and has produced a document which focuses on mental health training for professionals in low income countries focusing on diagnosing and treating psychotic disorders, mood disorders, anxiety disorders and substance abuse disorders as well as cognitive behaviour counselling and psychopharmacology. The aim is that community health workers and nurses would be trained to spot and treat those who are in need of help, to prevent stories like these making the front page of the BBC, Yahoo News, the Huffington Post and parading all over Twitter, making out our small island paradise to be some haven for the depraved.
In the meantime, I am now suspicious of any unstable man with a bucket. I-bear, the man I buy my beloved Copee mangoes from in Grenada, is a tad unbalanced, gets naked on occasion for no reason, and is prone to random fits of cursing and swearing over nothing at all. He often walks with a machete stuffed into a dirty "fine-bag" and I engage in general banter with him on my verandah. I usually refuse to capitulate to his "expat tax" demands of an extra twenty dollars for five mangoes. After this incident, I am on my guard. I think I will take my chances and brave the stifling heat and gossipy mosquitoes and head to La Source Hill to source my own Copees.
All photos by my brother Mikey Hutchinson. All rights reserved. Thanks Mikey!
