Aron Firman was a son, a brother, a friend.
He was also a troubled young man, whose life was increasingly being
taken over by schizophrenia and drug use.
Four weeks after he died during a confrontation with OPP officers,
his family is still coming to terms with the circumstances of his
death.
All that's known, publicly, is what was in a terse news release
from the province's Special Investigations Unit; the SIU is called in
when a death or serious injury results during an interaction with
police.
On June 24, around 5:30 p.m., officers were called to St. Marie
Street group home where Aron lived. There was an altercation with
another resident, and when police arrived, Aron became "combative"
with officers, assaulting one of them.
One of the officers used a conductive energy weapon--otherwise
known as a Taser, after the company that manufactures the device--on
Aron.
At that point, according to the SIU's news release, he became
"unresponsive" and could not be revived in spite of the best efforts
of the police officers on the scene.
Marcus Firman and his wife Christine Cowley were at a restaurant
with Christine's son when police tracked Marcus down to give him the
news his son was dead.
"To hear he may have assaulted a police officer... it's difficult
to draw a line between what Aron was, and what happened (with
police)," says Marcus.
The incident is still under investigation by the SIU, and family
members still don't know what happened that afternoon, aside from what
they've picked up from third parties.
What Aron Firman was, according to friends and family, was a
generally gentle individual, full of ideas and creativity.
Listening to Marcus and Christine, retelling the story is clearly
cathartic; but it's more than just the days that followed in the wake
of Aron's death, or the days and weeks that led up to his fatal
confrontation with police. It's also the months and years of living
with an individual who has a mental illness-- and in that respect, it
becomes tale, both cautionary and inspiring, for others who may see
similar patterns in a friend or family member.
Aron's symptoms of schizophrenia didn't begin to manifest
themselves until his late teens, says Marcus.
After the break-up of his parents' marriage in 2002, Aron quit
school in spite of good grades, especially in Math and Science.
Marcus found him a job in construction, and he excelled at it. But
earning money brought other issues, such as recreational drug use.
He started to mess up. And then, as Christine says, "the TV started
to talk to him."
That was the beginning of hearing other voices inside his head.
"Aron always had his idiosyncrasies; he would rub his hands
together, for instance, but he would rub them until they were
calloused," said Marcus. "But he'd been doing that since he was a
baby, so I never really thought anything of it."
He could be artistic and creative, "but he gave up because he
couldn't do what he wanted to do," said Marcus. "Whatever medium he
was working with, he could not get whatever was in his head, out."
"He didn't think his work (art or writing) was good enough," added
Christine, noting Aron was fascinated that Christine--as a
writer--could write a sentence or a paragraph, and "be happy with it."
When Aron began to live with Marcus and Christine, who were married
in 2004, the couple started to clue in to Aron's obsessive compulsive
disorder, and that it was much more than just "teenage angst." His
compulsive behaviour had progressed to a point where he was
self-harming; not suicidal, but cigarette burns to his arms and legs.
There were appointments with doctors and specialists, and eventually,
an assessment that identified Aron as paranoid schizophrenic.
Schizophrenia is characterized by a disintegration of the process
of thinking, losing contact with reality. It can manifest as auditory
hallucinations (hearing voices), paranoia, delusions; a person with
schizophrenia may appear to be incoherent or unintelligible, and be
physically agitated. Drugs--both recreational and prescription--can
cause or worsen the symptoms.
It is frequently confused with dissociative identity disorder, or
as it's commonly referred, multiple personality disorder.
Depending on what statistics you're reading, schizophrenia is
prevalent in one in 100 people, to one in 200.
There are a variety of factors that could lead to an individual
becoming schizophrenic, including genetics, social causes, and drug
use; a study released earlier this month suggested it could be linked
to defects in proteins in the junctions between nerve cells.
Treatment includes medication, or psychotherapy.
After Aron's diagnosis, the decision was made to take him to the
mental health centre in Penetanguishene.
"He didn't like it, but there was also a certain security to it for
him, and there were rules he had to obey," said Christine.
After four months, Aron returned to Collingwood. He qualified for
ODSP and moved into his own apartment, while the couple searching his
condition.
Even Aron was convinced he could control his symptoms, and every
few weeks would come up with a new scheme to handle his schizophrenia.
But it was clear it wasn't working-- especially as he would fall into
the frequent pattern of smoking dope.
"He would come home and tell us about (his grand plans), but it was
so heartbreaking because he believed it," said Marcus. "But there were
lots of lucid moments, and it was our hope that if he understood his
illness he could control it."
He couldn't, and he was frequently in and out of care in
Penetanguishene; he also spent time at Georgianwood, a residential
program attached to the mental health centre for people with both a
substance use problem and a mental illness.
When he came out, the family discovered they couldn't give him
money, or give him things that could be hocked or swapped; invariably,
the money would be spent on pot. The more he smoked, the less
effective were the drugs he was taking to control the symptoms of his
schizophrenia.
"It was constantly, 'let's try something until we can find a plan
that works', but nothing ever worked," said Marcus. "Even when he was
lucid, he would still think there was a message, there would be a
compulsion to believe it was a message, even though he was on
medication and he realized that it wasn't possible."
And he hated being on medication.
"As a person with schizophrenia, you so relate to the voices that
you don't feel whole without them," said Christine. "When the meds
stopped the voices, he felt like something was missing... he wasn't
'him' anymore without the voices.
"He knew they weren't real, but he couldn't believe that they
weren't, either."
"The strangest stuff meant something to him, which we learned is a
symptom of the disease," said Marcus.
They would be out for a walk, and hearing a dog bark would be
enough to convince him that the animal was sending him a message he
was being "watched" by mysterious "others."
Eventually, he went to live at the group home on St. Marie Street,
though that didn't stop the problems. He started to have run-ins with
the law: break-ins or thefts--incidents that appeared to be cases of
Aron hanging around with the wrong individuals-- that resulted in him
being incarcerated for short lengths of time.
His legal troubles drew the attention of Immigration Canada; Aron
wasn't officially a Canadian citizen--he had been born in England, but
the family moved to the Middle East when he was eight weeks old and
had lived in Canada for 20 years. Because of his criminal charges,
Immigration Canada began the process of deciding whether to deport
Aron back to England.
Becoming the focus of the authorities only served to increase his
paranoia.
He became convinced he was under surveillance at the group home.
The 'voices' fed on his paranoia, or made him delusional. But they
never drove him to violence--which is why the family can't understand
the circumstances that led to his death.
"If he had an episode, we would tell him to lower his voice, or
leave, if he was going to shout," said Marcus, "and he would calm
down. We knew how to deal with him in that heightened state-- which is
mainly to give him lots of space and speak calmly.
"We've got far more questions than answers, and we don't know if
we'll ever get to the truth."
