Magda Konieczna
mkonieczna@guelphmercury.com
GUELPH — Alison Lall had lovely, flowing red hair and a beautiful smile. She always remembered the special occasions, showing up with homemade cupcakes to celebrate a friend’s daughter’s birthday. And she had three lovely, lively daughters of her own.
Alison was found dead in her Calgary home in May, killed, along with two of her daughters and a tenant, by her husband, Joshua Lall.
It’s hard to imagine what the family went through. But now Alison’s mother, Sheila Fisher, seems collected. She’s focused on telling her daughter’s story, and on finding some small good in the tragedy that rocked a Calgary suburb and family and friends at home in and around Guelph, where both Alison and Joshua were raised.
More than six months later, Fisher says little about her grief during an interview at the Mercury, only that she did such a good job putting away the photographs — she had a hard time looking at them after all that happened — that she’s had trouble finding them.
Much has been said and written about the role of mental illness in the tragedy. It’s a difficult topic in the best of times. But if any small good is to come of the deaths, Fisher hopes it is an increased awareness of the dangers of undiagnosed mental illness.
“We’re just hoping somewhere along the line, someone will want to put this together as a case study,” she said. “It’s important not to dismiss the signs.”
The family has created a scholarship in Alison’s name at McMaster University, hoping it might fund ongoing research into mental health.
Fisher said she agreed to tell Alison’s story to a newspaper because she wants to honour her daughter.
“I want to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else. Maybe that’s too much to ask.”
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Alison was the second of four children — three girls and a boy — who grew up on a farm just north of Guelph. They were close in age — five years between the youngest and eldest — and the family remains closely knit, Sheila said.
Alison’s younger brother, Tim Fisher, attributes that to the relative isolation of the farm, where the kids spent their days playing outside, building forts, skating and cross-country skiing on the property.
“That environment, where you didn’t necessarily have a neighbourhood with a subdivision and lots of kids around your age, meant we were closer friends,” he said. “We grew up together and were very close friends and siblings all the way through. We’re more like friends than other siblings are.”
Tim and Alison both attended McMaster University, and in Tim’s third year they lived together.
“In retrospect I’m so glad I had that year there, not knowing of course that she’d be gone so early in life.”
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Alison attended the former Marden Public School and St. Margaret’s School for Girls in Elora, then went to Guelph Collegiate for high school.
“She was always a very enthusiastic learner, right from babyhood,” Sheila said.
Alison worked at the library, at retirement homes, and was a candystriper at St. Joseph’s Health Centre from the time she was 12. That led her to study gerontology at McMaster University, her mother said.
She always had lots of friends and was involved in the youth group at Dublin Street United Church, attended and then was a counsellor at a local summer camp, and always excelled at school.
“Her jobs, activities around the family and candy-striping filled her days,” her mother said.
Alison earned degrees in gerontology and occupational therapy at McMaster, and met Joshua while they were both working at Freeport Health Centre in Kitchener. She had considered furthering her education, but they were married in 2000 and soon after moved to Calgary. Joshua wanted to study architecture, to combine it with his previous career in occupational therapy.
Alison’s parents — Sheila and husband, Norm — went out west often, to visit their daughter and son-in-law, and, later, a growing number of grandchildren.
“I was very happy when WestJet had a direct flight to Calgary” from the airport near Breslau, Sheila said.
And Alison often came home to Guelph to visit. She had planned to come in June with the girls, to give Joshua time to study for his architecture exams.
“She had a long list (of people to see), because someone was in Niagara Falls, someone in Toronto, and it was hard to get all the visits in,” Sheila said. “Many of her friends have been in touch with me — it’s a mutual keeping each other’s spirits up.”
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Alison’s daughters — Kristen, 5, Rochelle, 3, and one-year-old Anna — were “beautiful girls,” “full of life,” “full of fun and loving their cousins,” Sheila said.
Two of the girls died in the tragedy. The youngest survived.
“It’s hardest to choke out the fact that you’ve lost two grandchildren,” Sheila said.
The family wants to keep Anna away from the public eye, to give her a childhood far from the painful story of her past. Sheila said only that Anna is with family, and doing well.
The girls shared their mother’s warm, welcoming spirit, Tim said.
“Her kind and gentle spirit was really modelled to her children, and the way her children interacted with each other and with others was kind and caring,” he said. “It certainly was a very loving home and a warm home, a home where the children came first.”
That was epitomized by the advertisement Alison published for a part-time nanny when she went back to work after her most recent maternity leave. “One of the only elements of the job description said ‘light housekeeping duties will play a secondary role to the children,’ ” Tim said.
And it was that tremendous warmth that her siblings remember most about her.
“Alison loved, lived life to its fullest, and made a difference,” her sister, Julie Madott, wrote in remembrance. “My admiration for her has only grown stronger. I am proud of her and miss her dearly. But she is with me every day, and will always be my most special, red-headed sister.”
“Alison was certainly somebody who was accomplished as an individual, always excelled in school. But the things I’ll remember Alison for most have to do with her strength of character,” Tim said.
He called her “endlessly hospitable,” a “gentle spirit,” an “amazing listener.”
He recalled sitting in her busy living room, with lots of children running around.
“Yet she was always right there and engaged in the conversation. She was very present as an individual. That’s a trait I don’t think a lot of people have.
“She was always putting a hand on your shoulder and saying ‘I’m so proud of my little brother,’ even well into my 20s.”
One of Tim’s last memories with Alison is from autumn 2007, when he accompanied the Lalls to Banff. Joshua and the older girls went to the hot springs. “Alison and I stayed in the lower restaurant with the youngest child and had such a good conversation for hours,” Tim said. “Alison really put people at ease.
“The things that stick out are the everyday aspects of life and how much a joy it was to have someone like that in your life. She was a good friend — not just a sister, a good and close friend.
“Alison is missed by everybody around her. She was just so gentle and caring and present in your life that it’s a hole that’s not easily or really ever filled.”
Editor's note: This story was to appear in Mercury's print edition Dec. 30. The newspaper's male newsmaker of 2008 will appear Wednesday.
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