sharing their memories. My brother-in-law, who was sixteen at the time, remembered being stopped at a roadblock when Cook was on the loose from Ponoka. He said just being stopped made him feel that he must be guilty of something . And he was. At sixteen, he didnât have the category of licence to be driving the farm truck. No one took note. Another relative in Camrose, Pat, knew several people whoâd partied with Cook during the brief times he was out of jail and around the area. She was mesmerized by the murder case, she said. On November 14, 1960, she stayed awake listening to her transistor radio until the news sometime after midnight reported that Cook had been hanged. She still wondered if the right man was executed. During the years I was to spend writing this story, Pat would often ask what new pieces I had found to fit into the puzzle.
By now I had newspaper clippings, notes from casual
conversations with people who had lived in the area in 1959, recorded interviewsâsome enlightening, many just recounting the same archived information Iâd already foundâand no idea how I was going to use any of the pieces. Or why I wanted to. I tried once again to separate Louiseâs story from the Cook murder story, tried to use what I was gleaning about Daisy Cook to add some veracity to Louiseâs fears, and yet I couldnât find any real evidence that Daisy was frightened, or in factâif those who so fervently maintained that Bobby Cook was innocentâthat she had reason to be. For now, Daisy and Louise were entwined.
Some kind of sisterhood of stepmothers? If youâre thinking Daisy and I are members of the same chapter, Iâm cancelling my membership!
You donât get to vote. Youâre fictional, remember?
Are you sure? Doesnât Daisy feel like fiction too? All of this gets a little blurry sometimes, doesnât it?
A week later I called Mrs. Anderson again, without much optimism that she would have more to add. And that was how it began. She had not, she said, been able to dredge up much memory at all of Daisy, but to my surprise she said that she had been phoning other long-ago residents of Hanna to ask them what they remembered. The same details came up over and over again: Daisyâs red hair, her gift for the piano, and the shock to the community when the news of the murders broke. Mrs. Anderson recalled her sisters going to dances with Daisy, knew that they were very fond of their fun-loving friend. Marion Anderson had left Hanna by 1959. She heard the news of the Cook murders on television and phoned her sisters who were both living in Calgary at the time. They were stunned, unable to believe such a thing could befall their friend. But, she said, life goes on, and it was long ago. I suggested meeting with her, but she declined, saying she didnât think it would be worth my time, but sheâd be happy to chat now if I had questions.
I asked if she remembered Robert Cook, and she did indeed, but only as a small boy. She and a friend often babysat Robert and his cousin, Garry Bell, when the two boys were about four or five years old. Marion remembered that she and her friend played with paper dollsâthey were that youngâwhile they sat awake. They were not allowed to sleep when they babysat, even though the boys were already in bed when they arrived. The parents often went to dances. Bobby and his cousin were pests when they were awake, knocking on the door at Marionâs house, pleading with the girls to play with them. She remembered the boys in the kitchen, watching her mother bake cookies. Bobby was a cute boy, she said, and she was surprised later to hear that heâd become a bit of a bully in Stettler, that he picked on other kids. She didnât remember how Daisy dealt with her stepson. Marion had left home by the time Daisy married Ray Cook.
I read Clara Bihuniakâs comments to Marion from the Pecover book and she said this sounded
By now I had newspaper clippings, notes from casual
conversations with people who had lived in the area in 1959, recorded interviewsâsome enlightening, many just recounting the same archived information Iâd already foundâand no idea how I was going to use any of the pieces. Or why I wanted to. I tried once again to separate Louiseâs story from the Cook murder story, tried to use what I was gleaning about Daisy Cook to add some veracity to Louiseâs fears, and yet I couldnât find any real evidence that Daisy was frightened, or in factâif those who so fervently maintained that Bobby Cook was innocentâthat she had reason to be. For now, Daisy and Louise were entwined.
Some kind of sisterhood of stepmothers? If youâre thinking Daisy and I are members of the same chapter, Iâm cancelling my membership!
You donât get to vote. Youâre fictional, remember?
Are you sure? Doesnât Daisy feel like fiction too? All of this gets a little blurry sometimes, doesnât it?
A week later I called Mrs. Anderson again, without much optimism that she would have more to add. And that was how it began. She had not, she said, been able to dredge up much memory at all of Daisy, but to my surprise she said that she had been phoning other long-ago residents of Hanna to ask them what they remembered. The same details came up over and over again: Daisyâs red hair, her gift for the piano, and the shock to the community when the news of the murders broke. Mrs. Anderson recalled her sisters going to dances with Daisy, knew that they were very fond of their fun-loving friend. Marion Anderson had left Hanna by 1959. She heard the news of the Cook murders on television and phoned her sisters who were both living in Calgary at the time. They were stunned, unable to believe such a thing could befall their friend. But, she said, life goes on, and it was long ago. I suggested meeting with her, but she declined, saying she didnât think it would be worth my time, but sheâd be happy to chat now if I had questions.
I asked if she remembered Robert Cook, and she did indeed, but only as a small boy. She and a friend often babysat Robert and his cousin, Garry Bell, when the two boys were about four or five years old. Marion remembered that she and her friend played with paper dollsâthey were that youngâwhile they sat awake. They were not allowed to sleep when they babysat, even though the boys were already in bed when they arrived. The parents often went to dances. Bobby and his cousin were pests when they were awake, knocking on the door at Marionâs house, pleading with the girls to play with them. She remembered the boys in the kitchen, watching her mother bake cookies. Bobby was a cute boy, she said, and she was surprised later to hear that heâd become a bit of a bully in Stettler, that he picked on other kids. She didnât remember how Daisy dealt with her stepson. Marion had left home by the time Daisy married Ray Cook.
I read Clara Bihuniakâs comments to Marion from the Pecover book and she said this sounded
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