Site demo latest chapter in decades-long dispute with Jackie Vautour and family
Vautour died in 2021, family say they will continue fight for land in Kouchibouguac National Park
Parks Canada removed the home, two recreational vehicles, a teepee and several wooden sheds during an operation that took most of Tuesday. The access points to the land were destroyed by creating ditches and are now blocked with concrete barriers.
Jackie Vautour's son, Edmond Vautour, was among a crowd of more than 25 people on Wednesday surveying what had become of the land. He said the move by Parks Canada took him by surprise.
"It's hard to realize, it's like a dream," he said. "I can't believe the mess."
Family members were briefly approached by police after starting a campfire on the site. (Alexandre Silberman/CBC)
The removal marks the latest chapter in a decades-long dispute over a 175-acre piece of land around 98 kilometres north of Moncton.
Jackie Vautour, who died in 2021, fought against the expropriation of land from families living in the area. The process was part of the creation of Kouchibouguac National Park.
On Tuesday, RCMP and Parks Canada officials closed Route 117 north, about eight kilometres away from the Vautour's camp.
As the operation to remove the Vautour's belongings was underway, about 35 family members and supporters gathered at the road blockade.
Kent North MLA Kevin Arseneau said he disagrees with how Parks Canada approached the situation. (Alexandre Silberman/CBC)
After the road reopened, family members made their way to the contested property early Wednesday morning to survey the scene. There was little left to see, with pieces of metal and wood scattered on parts of the ground.
Near a tree, flowers mark the spot where the family says the ashes of Jackie Vautour and one of his sons are buried.
Kent North MLA Kevin Arseneau was on scene speaking with family members. He said he disagrees with how Parks Canada approached the situation.
"It's really the lack of sensitivity and no communication. I know it's been an ongoing issue for many years, but I think, you know, continued dialogue would have been and is always the way to go," he said.
End of an 'illegal occupation'
Parks Canada said Tuesday it packed up the belongings of the Vautour family and removed them to end the "illegal occupation" of the park. It said in a statement it tried to work with Jackie Vautour's widow, Yvonne, to move them to a "desired location" outside the park, but the offer was refused.
Under a 1987 agreement with the New Brunswick government, according to Parks Canada, Jackie Vautour said he would leave the land in exchange for 110 acres outside Kouchibouguac Park and $228,000. It says he accepted the money and land, signed the agreement, but refused to leave.
Edmond disputes that his father made an agreement with Parks Canada.
Jackie Vautour continued to live on the property until his death. His son, Joseph John Vautour Jr., was living there until Tuesday morning.
Edmond said his family will continue to fight for the land and is "not backing down." Several family members gathered near the former site of the home and started a small campfire.
"We're going to put teepees and tents and we're going to continue. We ain't going to stop because they did that."
Acadian activist who fought expropriation of land for Kouchibouguac has died
Jackie Vautour, 92, fought decades-long battle to the end
"Acadian Society president Alexandre Cédric Doucet says Acadians have lost one of their great symbolic figures of the 1960s protest movement.
On Twitter, he said Vautour's fight will "remain forever in our memories."
Parks Canada boxes up Vautour family's belongings to end 'illegal occupation'
The late Jackie Vautour and his family fought expropriation that allowed Kouchibouguac National Park
Parks Canada is packing up the belongings of the late Jackie Vautour's family and removing them from Kouchibouguac National Park, hoping to end what the agency calls an "illegal occupation" of the park on the eastern New Brunswick coast.
On Tuesday, family members gathered at a roadblock in Kouchibouguac, fearing Parks Canada was going to push them off the expropriated property they've been trying to hang onto for decades.
In a statement issued Tuesday evening, the agency said it had offered to work with the Vautour family to help move the belongings of Vautour's widow, Yvonne, to a "desired location" outside the park, but the offer was refused.
As a result the personal belongings of the family are now being removed from the park.
"The family's belongings are being carefully boxed and securely stored outside of the national park," the statement said. "Parks Canada will ensure the family has the details on how to retrieve these items."
RCMP and Parks Canada closed Route 117 northbound, which leads to the area where the Vautour family has a camp.
The arrival of an excavator and the road closure followed a letter that Parks Canada sent last year warning family members they had to be out of the park by March 31.
Jackie Vautour, who died in 2021, fought unsuccessfully against the expropriation of land from 228 households, affecting about 1,200 people, more than 50 years ago. The expropriation was part of the creation of the national park.
Linda Vautour, Jackie Vautour’s daughter, said she heard about the road closure after getting a phone call from her niece about the police activity in the park. (Alexandre Silberman/CBC)
Vautour lived on the property until his death, and his son, Joseph John Vautour Jr., has continued living there as well.
More than 30 people, including friends, family members and supporters gathered at the roadblock Tuesday afternoon.
Linda Vautour, Jackie Vautour's daughter, said she heard about the road closure after getting a phone call from her niece about police activity in the area.
She said police on scene wouldn't answer her questions or say whether anything was happening to her father's camp.
"It's heartbreaking," she said. "I was seven years old in 1976, when they first bulldozed the house down, seeing everything that day. It was just like reliving the whole experience over again. When my niece first told me, I started shaking."
The 175-acre piece of land includes the same camp Jackie Vautour once lived in, along with an RV, a portable toilet, a teepee and three other camps on the opposite side of the road.
Joseph John Vautour Jr., who goes by Rocky, was in the crowd in front of the roadblock.
More than 30 people, including friends, family members and supporters gathered at the roadblock on Tuesday. (Alexandre Silberman/CBC)
"I came out and then the excavator went by," Vautour said, referring to the construction equipment several witnesses on scene said they saw early Tuesday afternoon.
Parks Canada also told the family to leave the property by March 2022.
Jackie Vautour's son Joseph John Vautour Jr., who goes by Rocky, was part of the crowd on Route 117. (Pascal Raiche-Nogue/Radio-Canada)
Spokesperson Cpl. Hans Ouellette told Radio-Canada the RCMP are assisting with the closure of a road. He directed all other questions to Parks Canada.
All visitor services in the park are suspended until further notice, according to the statement from Parks Canada.
"Only basic critical operations will be carried out at this time. Visitor facilities such as day use areas, the Visitor Reception Centre and the Pijeboogwek shelter will be closed temporarily. The public should not visit Kouchibougac National Park at this time."
Corrections
- An earlier version of this story said incorrectly that land was expropriated from 1,200 families. In fact, the expropriation directly affected 228 households and about 1,200 people.Apr 12, 2023 10:13 AM AT
Mi'kmaw group accuses Vautour family of cultural appropriation in claim to parkland
Family continues to claim right to land in Kouchibouguac National Park, despite eviction notice
Mi'kmaw chiefs in New Brunswick are speaking out to oppose the land claim by the family of the late Jackie Vautour involving property within Kouchibouguac National Park.
The Vautours have claimed they are Acadian-Métis and have the permission of Steven Augustine, a hereditary chief of the Mi'kmaq Grand Council, to remain on the property on the province's east coast.
In a statement issued Friday, Mi'kmaw chiefs in the province say the Mi'kmaq hold title to the land that includes the park and the rights have not been extended to the Vautour family or to people the Vautours call Acadian-Métis.
"The Mi'kmaq, the Métis National Council and the Societé de l'Acadie du Nouveau-Brunswick have all rejected the notion that 'Acadian-Metis' are a distinct Indigenous group," the chiefs wrote.
"For the Vautours to continue to claim they have a right to the lands in Kouchibouguac through the Mi'kmaq is wrong, and it must stop."
The chiefs also say they have seen an increase in the number of individuals and groups claiming aspects of the Mi'kmaw culture in order to advance their own personal interests. They say it is a form of cultural appropriation.
Jackie Vautour staged a 50-year battle against expropriation after the park was created in 1969, living in a cabin without electricity until his death in February 2021.
Parks Canada has written a number of letters to the Vautour family asking them to remove their belongings and leave the park.
Earlier this month, a spokesperson for the federal Crown agency said it was sticking to a deadline of the end of this month for the Vautours to leave.
Last year, the New Brunswick's Court of Appeal dismissed an appeal by Jackie Vautour that was based on his claim to represent more than 100 people of Métis Acadian Mi'kmaw background seeking title to the park area under the Canadian Constitution.
The federal and provincial government argued the case was an attempt to re-litigate something decided by courts as high as the Supreme Court of Canada.
Vautour's son Edmond says the family still has legal options and is waiting now for a court hearing on some issues.
Edmond Vautour, the son of Jackie Vautour, insists the matter of the land is still before the courts and no action should be taken until it's decided on by a judge. (Shane Magee/CBC)
"The court needs to decide, and not them," Vautour said in an interview Friday after the chiefs issued their statement. "Let's go to court and let the proof be on the table, and a decision will be rendered."
Vautour questioned the timing of the statement from the chiefs.
"Why would those chiefs say such a thing right now when we are so close to having a hearing on the matter? Why are they doing this now? What are they afraid of?"
Vautour said the chiefs need to think the impact of their position on his nieces and nephews, who consider themselves Mi'kmaq.
Vautour and others plan to hold a protest march at the entrance to the park on Saturday.
Acadian activist who fought expropriation of land for Kouchibouguac has died
Jackie Vautour, 92, fought decades-long battle to the end
The 92-year-old had liver cancer and pneumonia and had been hospitalized since Thursday, confirmed his son, Edmond Vautour.
He said he had been able to speak to his father in recent days.
"He told me that he did all he could for the expropriated families and he wants them to continue the battle," Edmond Vautour told Radio-Canada. "He is proud of what he has been able to accomplish."
Vautour went to his father's camp on Sunday and broke down. He said he "cried and cried and cried" because the place spoke to him about all the suffering his father has experienced over the years.
He said he's sad his father wasn't able to see "the saga" resolved. He vowed to continue his father's court battle to get the families' land back and said he will try to get it to the Supreme Court.
"I'm going to try to be heard," he told Radio-Canada.
He described his father as "a fighter, he's a hero, he loves the people, he always believed in justice and the rights of the people."
Edmond Vautour, the son of Jackie Vautour, vows to continue his father's court battle. (Shane Magee/CBC)
In his "last few words," Jackie Vautour said he did the best he could for the people who lost their land in the expropriation.
"I told him, 'You did more than anybody else could do," said Edmond Vautour.
Acadian Society president Alexandre Cédric Doucet says Acadians have lost one of their great symbolic figures of the 1960s protest movement.
On Twitter, he said Vautour's fight will "remain forever in our memories."
Vautour was known for his decades-long fight against the expropriation of land from 1,200 families to create Kouchibouguac National Park. From 1969 to 1971, the province expropriated land from residents and transferred it to the federal government for the park.
Vautour also fought for the right to hunt and fish in the park because of his Indigenous ancestry.
Appeal dismissed
Late last month, New Brunswick's Court of Appeal dismissed an appeal by Vautour, filed in 2017 on behalf of more than 100 people claiming to be Métis Acadian Mi'kmaq whose land was taken.
The federal and provincial government argued the case was an attempt to relitigate something already decided by courts as high as the Supreme Court of Canada.
The Court of Queen's Bench agreed and dismissed the case last year. That prompted Vautour to appeal. The case was heard by a three-judge panel in October.
The decision issued on Jan. 28 agreed with the federal and provincial governments, concluding Vautour's case was an abuse of process.
Vautour was ordered to pay the province $5,000 for costs related to the case.
Vautour unsuccessfully argued in a previous case that as a Métis person, he had the right to fish for food in the area of Kouchibouguac. The appeal court ruled against him in that case, and the Supreme Court of Canada declined to hear the case, upholding the appeal court decision.
With files from Radio-Canada
"It's totally mixed, it's divided," said Prof. Rudin, whose book details the creation of the park and the experiences of the expropriated families.
Attention to the land fight has faded over the years. Prof. Savoie believes people are tired of hearing about Mr. Vautour's plight.
Some locals roll their eyes at the mention of his name. Many believe he was fairly compensated due to his receiving a $228,000 payout (a far greater sum than any other expropriated family) and a deal for off-park land from then-premier Richard Hatfield in 1987.
"That's a fair chunk of change, but he didn't move," Prof. Savoie said. "That's why people think they've heard enough of him."
Mr. Vautour acknowledges receiving the money, which he says paid for his legal costs. He denies agreeing to vacate.
'Rebel' of New Brunswick national park fights for expropriated land on borrowed time
In 1976, Jackie Vautour's house was expropriated for a national park in New Brunswick. Today, the 88-year-old is still squatting inside the park, living with his wife in a two-room house without hydro or plumbing, and still waging a struggle through the court system to reclaim the land, Jamie Ross reports
Jackie Vautour, 88, sits in the shack where he lives in the middle of New Brunswick’s Kouchibouguac National Park. The province expropriated the land in the 1970s, but while all other ex-residents of the park land have moved on, he has not.
"It is because of you that the government is making us suffer as you can see," one reads. "Have a good look."
"Avis," the other continues. "Parc Canada sont defendu d'empieter." Which roughly translates as "Warning: Parks Canada are not to trespass."
Mr. Vautour has squatted here, on the side of the highway in the middle of Kouchibouguac National Park, for more than 40 years in protest of the 1976 expropriation of his home, a government land grab that uprooted more than 1,000 people in seven neighbouring communities – about an hour's drive north of Moncton – as work for the national park began. It's where he raised nine children with his wife, Yvonne.
In more tense times, this two-room house overlooking Kouchibouguac Bay was central to a resistance movement waged by locals against provincial and federal authorities, a saga marred by violence from both sides.
Today, all other banished park residents have moved on. Tensions long ago subsided, but Mr. Vautour's resolve has not. Undeterred by decades of legal roadblocks, aborted or failed court challenges, waning public support and the fact that he's now 88, Mr. Vautour continues to fight the expropriation.
Warning signs in French and English urge Parks Canada employees ‘not to trespass’ on the Vautours’ shack in Kouchibouguac. It was once part of a community called Fontaine that was cleared away in the 1970s expropriation that built the park.
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THE GLOBE AND MAIL, SOURCE: MAPZEN; OSM; NATURAL EARTH; WHO’S ON FIRST
The Rebel of Kouchibouguac (a nickname he hates because he believes it implies he is doing something wrong) is mounting his latest challenge with the Court of Queen's Bench of New Brunswick, asserting Métis heritage on behalf of himself and 126 other former park families.
Mr. Vautour and co-plaintiff Stephen Augustine, the hereditary chief for the region's Mi'kmaq people, are seeking aboriginal title to the park land. If successful, it could mean the end of Kouchibouguac National Park.
With this playing out at a time when Canada is attempting reconciliation with its First Nations people, Mr. Vautour's lawyer, Michael Swinwood, is hoping for a similar outcome to the 2014 Supreme Court decision that granted title of 1,700 square kilometres of land to Tsilhqot'in First Nation in British Columbia.
No statement of defence has been filed, but Mr. Swinwood expects the provincial and federal governments will argue that no Métis community ever existed at Kouchibouguac, a similar position taken against Mr. Vautour and his son Roy in a 20-year-old hunting– and fishing-rights case pending appeal at the Supreme Court of Canada.
It's another verse in Mr. Vautour's exhaustive attempt to have the land he lives on returned to him.
"The only way I keep moving is the almighty Lord and the strength in my belief," he says.
"No one can understand why I keep going. It's quite a thing. Just one day at a time."
'There is a folklore that he is the lone ranger'
A tear falls from Mr. Vautour's left eye onto the page in front of him.
"I'm not crying," he mutters, wiping the drop away with a tissue. "It's just that I have a bad eye. Had that ever since they pepper-sprayed my eye. I have a hard time crying. If I was a person like that, I'd have cried myself to death by now."
Rather than engage in an interview, Mr. Vautour reads from a statement that takes more than an hour to get through.
As he grumbles his way through events like the creation of the park, the expropriation and its effect on his family, and his role in the resistance, Mr. Vautour barely skips a beat.
Known for his bureaucratic prowess, Mr. Vautour keeps files that stretch back to the days when Louis J. Robichaud, the Acadian premier responsible for first creating the park in 1969, was in power. He recalls names of long-forgotten government ministers who came to visit him. He remembers dates and places.
But his rhythm is interrupted, and he goes off-script, when he reaches the details of violence that played out in the park's early years, specifically his family's removal from a motel at the hands of police in March, 1977.
The Vautours boarded in nearby Richibucto on the government's dime after police evicted them and bulldozed their home when they refused to abide by the expropriation.
When the province stopped footing the bill for their stay, the family refused to leave. To remove them, police used axes and tear gas before dragging Mr. Vautour and his sons to jail.
The melee was indicative of the tense and frequently violent climate around the park at the time between authorities and resisters. One former warden described the battles as "force against force."
Mr. Vautour shakes his head at the memory and sheds another tear. This one appears to surprise him.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," he says.
Mr. Vautour's toughness and resilience is the stuff of legend. Many view him as a folk hero.
He is a short, stoic man with a perpetual scowl. What's left of his cream-coloured hair is slicked back. He has sideburns and a handlebar mustache fit for a biker.
"There is a folklore that he is the lone ranger, standing up against big government," said Donald J. Savoie, the New Brunswick political scientist who grew up in nearby Bouctouche. "He became a symbol of resistance."
Jackie Vautour's popularity exploded when the public saw images and video of a government worker bulldozing his house in 1976. To that point, he was a community organizer, employed by a government agency, arguing for better deals against what were viewed as low-ball offers made to local landowners who lived in the park as the province, which was responsible for removing the inhabitants, tried to buy them out.
After his home was demolished, he became the face of a movement. In those days, Mr. Vautour was a mainstay in the press, drawing media attention from across the country. Reporters flocked to New Brunswick to report on the unrest in the park, which finally opened to the public in 1979.
With that exposure came praise and backlash, especially in Kent County, a largely Acadian area that also includes anglophone and First Nations communities. Mr. Vautour's actions earned him both followers and detractors. He became a polarizing figure for his outspokenness and grandstanding.
He says he's been targeted by death threats and campaigns to discredit his fight. There have also been innumerable visitors who've shown up on his doorstep asking to shake his hand.
Ronald Rudin, a history professor at Concordia University and author of the 2016 book Kouchibouguac: Removal, Resistance and Remembrance at a Canadian National Park, said for every person he interviewed who admired Mr. Vautour, there was another who resented him.
"It's totally mixed, it's divided," said Prof. Rudin, whose book details the creation of the park and the experiences of the expropriated families.
Attention to the land fight has faded over the years. Prof. Savoie believes people are tired of hearing about Mr. Vautour's plight.
Some locals roll their eyes at the mention of his name. Many believe he was fairly compensated due to his receiving a $228,000 payout (a far greater sum than any other expropriated family) and a deal for off-park land from then-premier Richard Hatfield in 1987.
"That's a fair chunk of change, but he didn't move," Prof. Savoie said. "That's why people think they've heard enough of him."
Mr. Vautour acknowledges receiving the money, which he says paid for his legal costs. He denies agreeing to vacate.
Mr. Vautour hopes his legal challenge will let him build the home he’s always promised his wife, Yvonne, left.
A kerosene lantern was the Vautours’ only source of light in the house until a small solar panel was installed.
Roughing it in the 'castle'
With the exception of a two-year period following his eviction, Mr. Vautour has lived on this property since 1934. It was once part of a community called Fontaine. All that remains is the Vautour "castle," which was rebuilt after he and his family returned to the land in 1978.
There is no running water in the house. Jackie and Yvonne Vautour use a portable toilet and bathe "the old-fashioned way."
"When people ask, I tell them, 'The same way your great-grandfather would've,'" Mr. Vautour says.
There is no cellphone service, nor do they have access to telephone or hydro lines.
A small solar panel powers the lights inside the house. Prior to its installation, a kerosene lantern was the only source of light. Any leftover juice from the panel is put into running a small television and DVD player given to them by their children.
"We've played a lot of solitaire," Mr. Vautour says.
The inside of the tiny home – a kitchen and small bedroom – is a shrine to Mr. Vautour, his fight and his family. Pinned up all around the house are old editorial cartoons, newspaper clippings and photos of the man they call the eternal rebel.
In the summer, the couple grows vegetables. Fried green tomatoes are a staple. They consume an array of boxed and canned foods like corn flakes and Kraft Dinner, while storing meat and produce in a cooler that costs about $7 worth of ice a day.
Every morning, Mr. Vautour gets up with the sun and goes for a walk down the road. He'll spend at least an hour working out in his home gym, housed in the garage. He'll bench press a rusted barbell, go through cable workouts on an old all-purpose machine and do some light cardio on a stepper. For breakfast, he eats tomatoes fresh from the garden, with a pair of eggs over easy and a bowl of cereal.
Yvonne Vautour, 85, keeps fit by skipping and jogging in the yard on sunny days.
Summer can be lovely, but winter is difficult to cope with as they grow older. A wood stove is the couple's only source of heat.
Their son Edmond Vautour worries during those cold months. As the child most involved with his father's legal fight, he is the contact for a majority of Jackie Vautour's affairs. He and Mr. Swinwood, the lawyer, are seeking approval from the government to build a home more appropriate for the winter. But because the Vautours reside in Kouchibouguac illegally, Parks Canada forbids it.
In a statement, the federal agency said it "will not and cannot authorize the installation of new services or dwellings for illegal occupants in the park."
In keeping with recommendations in the report of a 1981 special government inquiry, Parks Canada will not forcibly remove the Vautours, but the denial of services leaves the couple in a perpetual standoff with the government, neither side willing to budge.
Rather than leave, Mr. Vautour has always said he would die here.
‘The only way I keep moving is the almighty Lord and the strength in my belief,’ Mr. Vautour says. ‘No one can understand why I keep going. It’s quite a thing. Just one day at a time.’
'I never get tired of fighting'
The land-claim lawsuit may not change anything; Mr. Vautour could spend the rest of his days on the side of Highway 117, living illegally on land he used to own.
There are two parts of Jackie Vautour that people will remember, Prof. Savoie says. The first is the romantic idea portrayed in poems, songs, stage productions and documentaries of a man and his land, standing alone against the government.
His more tangible impact, however, is on public policy and how he changed the way land is expropriated, says Prof. Savoie. Governments no longer use the same heavy-handed approach employed at Kouchibouguac.
"What's the saying? 'Come the moment, come the man.' The moment came, and there arrived Jackie Vautour. Give him that. Someone had to do it," Prof. Savoie says. "For anybody, an individual, not a prime minister or a political organization, just a man, to have that kind of impact on the machinery of government, for that you have to give him some credit. That is no small achievement."
A verdict in his latest case could take years. But Mr. Vautour is long on patience.
He said he would like to see his fight settled in his favour before he dies. In the meantime, Mr. Vautour says he'll do what he's always done.
"I never get tired of fighting."
"It's totally mixed, it's divided," said Prof. Rudin, whose book details the creation of the park and the experiences of the expropriated families.
Attention to the land fight has faded over the years. Prof. Savoie believes people are tired of hearing about Mr. Vautour's plight.
Some locals roll their eyes at the mention of his name. Many believe he was fairly compensated due to his receiving a $228,000 payout (a far greater sum than any other expropriated family) and a deal for off-park land from then-premier Richard Hatfield in 1987.
"That's a fair chunk of change, but he didn't move," Prof. Savoie said. "That's why people think they've heard enough of him."
Mr. Vautour acknowledges receiving the money, which he says paid for his legal costs. He denies agreeing to vacate.