In a perfect world, Colette Salemink would have been here to celebrate her 60th birthday this weekend. Her daughter, Erica Salemink, knows all too well how imperfect the world is. Erica recalls how her mom would have turned 60 on Sunday, and remembers how she dearly wished to become a grandmother. A single mother who lived in Coquitlam, Colette had worked hard at her two part-time jobs at Lougheed Mall to pay the bills, including paying off her house, and provide for her children. But Erica isn't throwing a party and won't be cutting into a cake this year for her mom. The 33-year-old is still sifting through an insurance claim nightmare -- the only thing that remains after a fire tore through her mother's Burian Drive home on April 19, 2010, and took Colette's life.
"It feels like it was only two weeks ago," Erica says. "The first two weeks you're not even functionable. It's a constant shock. But then later, you'll do something that's normal and then, bam, shock again. I don't get it still. I don't understand." Erica not only lost her mother that day. Her brother, Blake, has been charged with manslaughter as a result of the fire, and is in custody at the Forensic Psychiatric Hospital. Blake was her baby brother, 10 years her junior, and had struggled with mental health issues since high school. Erica recalls how Blake's interests became obsessions and his outbursts became louder when he was 16. "At first I didn't know if he was turning into a terrible teen. Then I thought, 'Maybe he's really passionate about his social studies class,'" she says. "But then he would argue things and not let it go. That's when you realize, 'No, this is not quite right.'"
Blake was diagnosed with schizo-affective disorder in Grade 11, undergoing treatment at Royal Columbian and then Riverview hospitals. Once a balance in his medication had been struck, he returned to Centennial Secondary, to the delight of family. The chef at Centennial's culinary arts program took Blake under his wing, coaching him and suggesting he pursue post-secondary studies in the culinary arts. After graduating with his peers, he attended Malaspina College (now Vancouver Island University) in Nanaimo for training.
"I thought maybe a change of scenery, some independence would be good for him," Erica says. He finished the program and got a job cooking in a restaurant. With some money in his pocket, Blake decided to go on a trip to Mexico. This ignited a passion in the young man, who enjoyed the country so much he would work for a few months and then go south several times a year.
His stability would come and go, Erica recalls, as he would stop taking medication that had a strong sedative effect. He would go periods when he slept all the time or couldn't sleep at all -- and the periods of no sleep would see him overly aggressive or unaware of his boundaries. On at least two occasions, Blake had to go to Riverview for one-month stays to regulate his medication.
The last time he left the hospital, Blake was put on extended leave -- meaning the Salemink family could bring him back if his condition worsened. Erica says he was doing well on injections of medicine every two weeks, but Blake soon insisted he wanted the freedom to travel and only wanted to take pills. The weekend before the fire, Erica got a phone call from her brother. Blake was concerned about several things and wanted his sister to go with him to the psychiatrist for his appointment the next week. Colette had phoned police that weekend as Blake's condition worsened. She asked police to revoke his extended leave, but the officers couldn't find a record of his stays at Riverview. Erica says police told her mom they couldn't take Blake away unless she had a restraining order against him. Mental health services, she recalls, wouldn't find housing for Blake unless he no longer had a home. "We weren't expecting one call to the police would fix this. We knew this was a process," Erica says. "Things were building up, not looking good, and police were called ... We were just going to take it one step at a time -- basically on Monday, we'll get a restraining order."
But that Monday, Erica woke up around 4:30 a.m. when a childhood friend who lived down the street from her mom called. "She called me and said, 'Don't freak out, but your mom's house is on fire.'" Erica, who lives in Port Moody, raced down to Burian Drive. She saw the flames, crossed the police line and tried to flag someone down who knew where her mom was. "I'm sure they've got my mom out at this point, and she might be coughing," she recalls. "At first they said they didn't find anyone in the house ... but then I didn't know they had gotten her out until she was gone in the ambulance." Her immediate response was to head to the hospital to see if her mom was OK, but police insisted she go with them to the RCMP detachment. She tried to get out of it, but relented. She was brought into a room with a victim services worker and escort officer. An investigator came into the room, sat down and began asking questions about her mom's death. "I said, 'What?' I thought she had smoke inhalation. That's when I said, 'Stop, stop. I'm not talking to you.'" The victim services worker ended the interview, telling the investigator to find someone at the hospital to speak with Erica, who was in shock.
She received a list from victim services of things family members should do following a death, including to contact the insurance company immediately. Claims adjustors came the next day to begin the paperwork, and the actual investigation of the house was stalled for a few days pending fire and police investigations. Erica recalls going through the list of contents in her mother's house, assuming things were going smoothly with the claim -- focusing more on healing, as most bereaved family members do.
But six months after the fire and hearing a few people drop hints that she should get a lawyer, she realized there was a one-year time limit to file a claim. The insurance company kept mentioning it needed to speak to Blake before the claim could be processed. "But my brother's in the Forensic Psychiatric Hospital. There's no way they're going to be able to talk to him," she said. "That's when I realized they're not going to deny me. They're just going to wait me out." She contacted a lawyer and found out that her brother's alleged involvement in the fire could allow an insurance company to deny the claim.
"If someone is insured under a contract and they do damage to a property, there's no coverage for that. Most people get that," explains Scott Stanley, the Murphy Battista lawyer Erica hired for the claim. "What most people don't get is that, if you're an innocent homeowner -- as Erica's mom is alleged to have been -- and your son or estranged spouse destroys the property but they're insured under the same contract, the insurance company can take the position lawfully there's no insurance coverage because they're also covered under the contract." Stanley says he has seen similar cases three times in the last four years, and he took a Maple Ridge case to court just last year.
That's why the province revised the Insurance Act to make it more consumer friendly, with measures passed in the legislature in October 2009. "It was affirmed and received assent, so it was a good law, but it was not in force," Stanley says. One of the amendments to the act bans insurance companies from using contract clauses that limit recovery for innocent people. In the case of the Saleminks, Colette would be covered for her losses, and Blake, were he to be found to have started the fire, would not have his personal items covered.
"If the law had been effective, the family would have been covered," Stanley says, adding that the ministry is working with stakeholders to communicate the changes before enacting the law. "They may say it's retroactive, but we'll have to see what the regulations are. Right now, if the claim was brought forward, it would probably be defeated if they could prove the damage was done intentionally." Aviva Canada, Colette's insurance company, would not answer any questions Thursday. Company representative Glenn Cooper would only read the following statement: "We are unable to comment on any individual claim as it would require us to release personal information about our customers that we simply do not share." Stanley says Aviva has the legal right to deny Erica's claim, but no responsibility to do so. "They're entitled to take this position. I've also seen other companies just pay the claims or make partial payments of the claims in anticipation of the new law, to keep in spirit of the new law," he said. Erica admits it's a lot to grasp.
All she was able to salvage from the house were some photo albums and a mug with her mom's name on it. Because of this insurance no-man's land, she stands to inherit a strip of land with a burned house that she can't afford to demolish. "I have to take the house down. It's $15,000 to demolish the house," she says. "My mom worked hard for that insurance. It seems like a waste. But it's not just the money; it's the help. Insurance -- it's supposed to be peace of mind of someone else having to do all this."
