“Starting Over”
Looking for a place to call home, Ralph found a very private twelve-acre parcel of land a short distance north of Kathy’s property on Rosalie Road. He moved a small trailer onto it as a temporary shelter while he built a new home.
The design was based on a Cape Cod style with 3,174 square feet on two levels, four bedrooms and three baths, offering far more creature comforts than the one he had shared with Kathy all those years.
“Unlike the log home I shared with Kathy, this one was well insulated.”
Of special interest are the findings of the current owner. Early during their time on the property the new owner found a early model Remington rifle buried near the lab / barn. More recently he has located a Sea-can buried half way between the house and the road.
Fearing the possibility of it be rigged, it is yet to be opened so the intent or contents are yet to be discovered. I will keep you posted.
Images of Ralph’s new home.
“Dispatching the Pres. – Part 2”
On April 30, 1993, the Nanaimo RCMP received word that 56-year-old Edward “Zeke” Mickle, president of the Nanaimo Hells Angels, had returned from a trip to Vancouver where he had picked up a couple of the club’s ceremonial death head rings and then he vanished. An initiation event was planned for the evening where two prospects were to receive their full colours along with the club ring. Such events are important to all club members.
All anyone knew was that Zeke’s truck was found parked on the east side of the Harewood Arms Pub in Nanaimo, locked, with no keys to be found.
Within hours, the cops’ wire taps were humming as members of the local chapter exchanged threats of war against any man or group responsible for his disappearance. There was so much phone chatter that it was clear they had no idea who may have offed their leader. With more zeal than the authorities, they were scrambling for clues, anything that would put a face to the act.
In reality, the word on the streets suggested Zeke owed the club a ton of money from a cocaine deal that went off the rails.
The bikers had so many theories to run with, ranging from a personal debt long overdue, to inter-club ill feelings, to a jilted lover. Taking Zeke out was something almost anyone could do if they got the drop on him, but making him disappear is something else altogether.
Whether the cops made a sincere effort to locate Zeke’s whereabouts three decades ago will never be revealed but it’s general knowledge the RCMP won’t invest a whole lot of time trying to locate one of the boys or one of their puppet members when they go missing. As long as it’s a situation not involving an innocent bystander, the cops view it as resolution by attrition. Until now, only a handful of Ralph Harris’ close confidants have known the truth behind what really happened that night.
Image Zeke and the east side of Harwood Arms Pub
“Dispatching the Pres. – Part 1”
During the evening of Monday April 26, 1993, Michael Edward Mickle, aka Zeke, then President of the Nanaimo Chapter of the Hells Angles, paid Ralph Harris a surprise visit at his home on Rosalie Rd. in Ladysmith.
The visit was not so uncommon, but the reason was totally unexpected by Ralph.
Ralph had always insured he was in good standing with the bikers as to do otherwise would have led to less than pleasant results.
As Zeke forced his way in the front door, he proceeded to threaten Ralph with a fabricated indebtedness of $20,000, a debt Ralph knew he didn’t owe. As Ralph refused to pay up, Zeke and his buddy began to lay their fists into Ralph otherwise perfect facial complexion. With this having no result in changing Ralph’s position on the matter, they turned and left.
As the door closed behind them, Ralph uttered the words “You are a dead man.” Normally these words would have lingered in the air only for Ralph to hear but on this particular night he had been entertaining a rather lovely lady, the same of which hid behind the bedroom door to witnessed Zeke’s rage.
Ralph was never a man to make idol threats. Three days later Zeke vanished and has never been heard from again.
While the RCMP and the bikers know of Ralph’s involvement in the event, thanks to an informant who plays for both teams. Neither made any effort to approach Ralph on the matter and to date, the authority’s state it is an unsolved and open case.
Image of Ralph’s Rosalie home.
Source “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“Murder 101”
While Art Williams was a decorated war veteran, he wouldn’t tolerate violence within his criminal enterprise, in fact when those in his distribution network stiffed him for what they owed, he would yell and howler, wave his arms like he meant business, possibly kick the odd garbage can, but in the end walk off and tax it up to a business expense.
This is where the similarity between Art Williams and Ralph Harris ends.
Ralph was prone to violence and was more likely to administer lethal violence than a cautionary beating.
He once had a friend named Richie who boarded with him in his new home on Rosalie Rd in Ladysmith and while Ralph would often leave a quarter million lying about on the kitchen counter, the day came when he felt Richie had stolen $150 from him.
He never bothered asking Richie whether he had taken it or not, but rather planned his retaliation for the presumed offence.
Now keep in mind, Richie was no saint for he had boasted about binding some guy’s hands behind his back on Island View Beach just outside Victoria, then fitting a car tire over his torso before dousing him with lighter fluid and lighting him ablaze.
Just the same Ralph asked him to lend a hand digging a hole in preparation to dispatching one more of Ralph’s victims. Gullible as the day is long, Richie jumped in along side Ralph digging a hole deep enough to bury a man for all eternity.
As the final shovel fulls were tossed to the surface, Ralph pulled his favourite revolver out of his pocket and popped poor Richie in the back of the head. Ralph climbed out without much of a sense of conscience and started filling the hole.
He told a mutual friend of ours, “I stopped when I noticed the blood spurting up like a fountain out of the hole in his head as his heart beat its last and stood mesmerized by it.”
Image of Ralph and his revolver.
Source is Ralph’s life story “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“Achilles Heel” If Ralph Harris ever had a weakness or Achilles heel as they call it, it is his inability to keep his pants zipped up when he’s away from home. I’ve found no report that Ralph was unfaithful during his first marriage to Yvonne, but when it came to his second marriage something within him changed. Having met his second wife and their mutual family I can see no reason why that relationship would have spurned him to change his ways, but something definitely triggered an ongoing lust for anyone in a short skirt. I asked one of his ladies what it was that caused her to hook up with Ralph and she replied, “I met him at a party and he seemed like a nice guy after which he approached me without making it clear what he wanted, so I blurted it out ‘What do you want Ralph’. His reply was pretty straight forward ‘I want you’. I knew he was married but that didn’t seem to matter in his eyes and everything evolved from there. “He was a real charmer, generous and his manly feature was incredibly large which made for some interesting times together. I’m just pleased he didn’t have sufficient blood flow to render it firm as it would have caused me some serious damage.” Ralph wasn’t happy with a single side affair at any given time but rather kept three women busy by juggling his Rolodex like a seasoned Wall Street broker. The lady I spoke with offered, “While one of the three women refused to accept the fact that she wasn’t his one and only flame, truth is we all knew of the others but it just didn’t matter. He was worth sharing.” His wife knew of his affairs but by some divine power she chose to ignore it in favour of keeping the family structure together for the sake of their girls. On one occasion their eldest daughter, who was about fifteen at the time, came home early from school only to find her father entertaining one of his girls in the master bed. Three feet behind her entered her mother, saddened that her daughter had to witness her father’s indiscretions. As one of her friends suggested, “She should be canonized by the church as a saint as she just forgave him on his promise not to do it again. She knew Ralph would again transgress, it was like in his DNA or something.” While his eldest daughter to this day loves her father dearly, she finds herself unable to forgive him for shaming her mother the way he did. Image of Ralph with a couple of his girlfriends. 
“Where is your stash Ralph?” Constable Wakely asks
“I don’t have a stash, because there’s no coke around. There’s been no keys coming north at all. It’s too hot down there. You know that. I know all about the dope, who’s got it and who hasn’t. The whole works. There is the odd flap out there, but that’s all there is. It just hasn’t been coming in since last July and you know that to be true.”Ralph replied.
Wakely: “What we do know is that Nanaimo is the first port it comes to and when it hits the rock it comes to you, then it filters down through God knows how many hands before it reaches the street. We know you have a stash and unless you tell us where it is, we are going to charge your wife with conspiracy to traffick based on the two flaps we found in your living room.”
“Leave my wife out of this, she has nothing to do with it.”
“Tell us what we want to know or her career will be finished.”
“If I show you where I hide my stuff will you leave her alone?|”
At this point Ralph led Wakely out behind his shed onto the adjoining property where he moved a large rock to uncover a hidden canister, The canister was empty.
The matter proceeded to court with Ken Westlake defending Ralph and another fellow representing his wife.
Ken Westlake is still a high profile criminal defence lawyer from Vancouver who had made a name for himself defending the Hells Angles individually and as a club, plus the likes of serial killer Clifford Olson. He was not the type of fellow an unseasoned prosecutor wanted to go up against.
As the matter was presented to the judge, he quickly dismissed all charges again Ralph’s wife so he could focus on Ralph. Westlake wasted no time in pointing out that while the cops had stated they had no warrant at the time of the search and seizure, none was ever produced even then at the time of the trial.
The judge dismissed all the charges against Ralph, even though his fingerprints were all over the evidence. Once again Ralph was a free man with his electronic scales, score sheets, and bankroll returned in full. The unregistered pistol that was found in his bedroom however was not returned.
Images of Ralph’s buried canister, his pistol and other evidence
Source: An abbreviated narrative from “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“Life Sucks – Part 2”
In the hour preceding Ralph being brought back to his Yellowpoint Rd property, his wife responded to a knock at her door only to discover a half dozen RCMP pushing their way in. When she asked what this was about, she received only ‘A warrant is on its way and should be here shortly’.
While witnessing the ordeal up close and personal, she already had her hands full tending to her two infant daughters of which one was in dire need of a fresh diaper.
As Ralph remained in the driveway imprisoned in the backseat of the patrol car, he could only imagine the situation his wife was facing.
Inside the home she stayed riveted to the same spot in the living room until she could no longer deny her youngest a change in diaper. She excused herself and took care of the matter in the bathroom merely ten feet down the hall that led to the bedrooms.
On her return the lead officer stood in front of their fireplace holding a silver serving tray that had previously been sitting on the fireplace mantle. “What are these” he asked, while pointing to a couple of cardboard wrappers on the tray. “The look like wrappers from industrial razor blades” she replied.
Cop, “No, they are flaps of cocaine”
Wife, “Well you must have put them there as they are not ours. Neither Ralph or I use cocaine.”
Cop, “This is your house is it not, registered in your name”
Wife, “Yes”.
Cop, “Then they must be yours”
How convenient she thought; nothing is found until I leave the room and then all the evidence they need suddenly appears on a silver tray which had been sitting at eye height the entire time, yet unseen until now.
Just then one of the officers searching the master bedroom returned and told the cop in charge they had located a secretive hiding place in the master dresser, which it seems was empty.
Cop, “We are going to have to take you to the station and book you on conspiracy to traffic unless you could tell us where your husband hides his stash. If not, this could end in a twenty-five year stint and the end of your career.”
Wife, “I wouldn’t know where his stash is. I wasn’t even aware he was dealing in coke.”
The cops remained in the home for an additional six hours finding nothing further.
Three days passed before her attendance was requested at the Ladysmith station where formal charges would be laid, she would be finger printed and a mug shot taken.
Image of cocaine flaps, Ralph’s living room and bedroom dresser hiding place.
Source: An abbreviated narrative from “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“Life Sucks – Part 1”
January 23, 1990 started out like every other day for Ralph Harris. He was an early riser who enjoyed a good breakfast of waffles, then off he would go to juggle all the different balls he had in the air.
Shortly after leaving the Yellowpoint Rd property he shared with his wife and family, two Ladysmith RCMP officers pulled his black GMC pickup over and placed him under arrest for ‘Conspiracy to Traffic in a Controlled Substance’.
When he inquired what evidence they had to justify the arrest, he only received silence. At the RCMP detachment in Ladysmith he was booked, asked if he wanted to call a lawyer and then placed in a cell for what seemed like an eternity.
In reality an hour later the same two officers returned and placed him in the back seat of their car and drove him back to his home. When they arrived the place was a beehive of activity. An officer stood off to the side of his driveway entrance recording everyone’s license number who slowed down or attempted to enter the property before realizing it was one place they didn’t want to be at that particular time.
The following day was welfare Wednesday when cheques were issued to the less fortunate and the day all his penny distributors would need to be well stocked in anticipation of multiple sales.
Other cops were milling about the shed he used to mix his stash, a cop with the dog was crisscrossing the property in a grid left to right, hoping to find the windfall. Others were clearly having a heyday tearing the house apart.
The two officers made no effort to leave their car but rather enjoyed watching Ralph squirm as those in his shed piled his bankroll on the floor by its entrance.
After a moment Ralph pointed at a vinyl pouch that clearly held a significant amount of cash. “How did you find that? I had it hidden behind a false electrical socket in the panelled wall.”
Cop replied, “Only an idiot would hide his bankroll in the same spot as his weed. We brought our dog into the shed and he went straight for it.”
Image of Ralph’s shed to the right of the driveway, the money found as evidence and it’s interior following the raid.
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“There is Always a Rat in the Woodpile”
Ralph Harris never allowed moss to grow beneath his feet; if there was an unreserved hour in his day he was going to spend it in the most profitable manner possible.
With his Ecstasy lab running smoothly and without interdiction, he focused on importing Colombian cocaine onto his home soil. Having few contacts south of the US / Mexico border he managed to track down a major player in California who promised to keep him well supplied. They mutually agreed on a price and from there it was up to Ralph to bring the bacon home.
Ralph recalls, “This was about 1980, but once I had the stuff here, I cut it with Cow Brand baking soda before packaging it ready for the street.”
With a network of street level distributors already in place, it took Ralph no effort to wholesale his first load, bury what money he didn’t need for a second shipment and the cycle began.
This cycle continued until January 23, 1990 when a couple of his street level dealers, John Takala and John Hanney were picked up and decided to rat Ralph out rather than face time in the iron hotel.
Image of the shed on Ralph’s Ladysmith property where he mixed his coke and put it into flaps ready for distribution.
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“In Search of Riches – Part 2”
With Shirley Ferguson out of the way, Ralph Harris and Ray Ridge proceeded to scarify the Westdowne Rd property using Art Williams’ tractor in hopes of uncovering some buried treasure. Art had an aversion to banks and therefore buried a large amount of his riches from the drug trade within munition canisters.
With no success the boys turned their attention to locating the journal that Art stated he kept on all their illicit activities, naming each and every one of them coupled with their personal misdeeds. This is something neither Ralph nor Ray wished to fall into the authorities hands.
Having searched Art’s barn / lab, Margaret’s’ cabin and Shirley’s’ duplex, plus all the added outbuildings with no reward, the two chose to torch the entire lot thereby insuring nothing which could cause them grief would suddenly appear.
They first lit up the barn / lab in two locations, followed by Margaret’s cabin. The duplex on the other hand was a stubborn beast as it would not take. With flames reaching into the sky and sirens wailing in the distance, their time was running out, so they left the duplex for a future date and fled into the woods south of Art’s property.
Image showing an aerial view of the Westdowne property defining the location of all the buildings, the fire on Westdowne Rd and what remains of the barn / lab.
Source “85 Grams: Art Williams – Drug Czar”
“In Search of Riches – Part 1”
With Art and Margaret Williams now removed from their Westdowne Road property in Ladysmith, the only remaining obstacle facing Ralph Harris was Shirley Ferguson, Art’s girlfriend who remained fixed within the walls of the Williams’ duplex.
Shirley was faced with a constant barrage of threatening phone calls that came daily and well into the night. As a safeguard she nailed all her windows shut to insure there would be no entry without her approval.
Even so when she was forced to leave her home in search of groceries or other purposes she would return home and on most occasions find the nails in her windows removed, clearly suggesting someone had entered her home during her absence. When Ralph Harris and Ray Ridge were confronted on the matter they had no comment to offer.
In time the constant harassment wore Shirley down to the point where she bundled up her two boys and fled to a more friendly soil in Chemainus.
Image of Shirley’s Westdowne Road duplex
“A Tragic End”
While Ralph Harris was a familiar face about Art Williams’ Ladysmith property, he became even more familiar following the disappearance of Art during the evening of Nov. 30, 1977.
It was rumoured that Ralph was so frequent in his visits with Margaret Williams that he must have been having an affair with the lonely lady, but when pressed on the subject he told me this was not the case, he was simply a friend.
Prior to his disappearance Art had left $90K ($440,000 in 2023) in the care of is friend Guy Antilla on the understanding that should something happen to Art it was to be divided equally between Margaret and Shirley Ferguson. When Guy decided to move to Atlin BC he gave the entire sum to Margaret for safe keeping.
Margaret was not unfamiliar with handling large sums of money as she hid in a bucket within her woodpile immediately outside her front door $56,000 ($275,000 today) to cover her day to day needs.
The gist of this story is that Ralph Harris had a strong suspicion that Margaret was holding onto a large amount of money and dearly wanted to put it to use, so he propositioned Margaret with an equal sum of his own money to join forces and bring to Vancouver Island a sizable shipment of cocaine from Los Angeles.
Feeling she could run a drug empire as well as her former husband, she jumped at the idea with the understanding that the profits would be shared equally as well. In May of 1978 she and Ralph drove to LA to consummate the deal.
When Ralph advised her that their load had not made it to the Vancouver ports as designed she immediately assumed Ralph had shafted her and flew into a rage demanding her money back plus what she was entitled to in profits.
Anyone who had done business with Ralph knew that he never stiffed anyone. If anything he was a man of his word, even if that was a promise to inflict severe pain on an individual. Just the same Margaret threatened to expose all that Ralph was involved in to the Feds, a threat that Ralph could not take lightly. The die was cast and unfortunately Margaret refused to back down.
Image of Margaret, Ralph and Guy Antilla.
Source ’85 Grams: Art Williams- Drug Czar’
“What Shaped the Man”
There seems to be no single event that moulded Ralph Ross Harris into the life he chose.
He grew up in a loving home that welcomed complete strangers who had no where else to go. His father was a well respected owner of Chemainus Sash & Door which in turn offered Ralph a skill set in how to marry two pieces of wood together seamlessly, while his mother had all the makings of a Saint.
It is true he took the life of a man while he was still in his youth, but few of us would not have had similar ambitions had we been standing in his shoes at that exact moment in time.
While still a young man his first wife Yvonne deprived him of his first three children by vanishing during his night shift at the Crofton docks, never to correct her err in judgment until long after his children were fully grown and embracing families of their own.
But in fairness, his involvement in the drug trade had been well rooted by then.
Unlike his pal Art Williams, he was not driven towards this anti authoritarian view on life by a destructive event crafted by the very government that was elected to protect his interests.
He had a couple of cousins who danced back and forth along the fringes of the law but none of his immediate family strayed far from that straight and narrow line between right and wrong.
So the question remains; ‘What Shaped the Man?
“Seemingly Untouchable”
Where Art Williams’ career as a producer of synthetic drugs ran for approximately 10 years, Ralph Harris operated for close to thirty years without interdiction.
During that period of time, the social taste transitioned from MDA ‘The Love Drug’ to MDMA ‘Ecstasy’ or ‘Molly’.
This came about as the ‘Rave’ scene exploded onto the night club / youth social calendar and therein laid the recipe for a social drug that out performed MDA yet remained somewhat non-addictive.
The youth demanded something that would rev them up during their secretive dance parties in addition to calming them when they faced term exams or stress filled endeavours.
The drug affects the brain’s chemistry by releasing a high level of serotonin, which plays a role in regulating mood, energy level, empathy and pleasure.
As a qualifier, it should be noted; with time its extended use did prove to lead to addiction, memory problems, paranoia and difficulty sleeping, while deaths have even been reported due to increased body temperature and dehydration.
Like MDA, Ecstasy was a German invention that saw the light of day in 1912. A 2016 study revealed 21 million people were using ecstasy.
Below are images of Ralph’s lab in Nanoose
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“The Boys”
Over the years Ralph Harris developed strong connections with both the bikers and the mobs across Canada, locking the contact for each away in the back of his mind rather than resorting to your typical Rolodex.
In contrast to the doctrine promoted by the authorities and media, he never once found them to be an “Organized Criminal Enterprise” but rather a group of guys who wore the same colours after which they somewhat dance to their own drummer. Many he encountered had no outward affiliation to criminal activities but wishing to avoid incarceration, they left that to their brothers.
When it came to doing deals within the bikers, there was a handful at best who called the shots and took the risk to invest in any of Ralph’s endeavours.
As example; when it came to importing a large volume of Cocaine for the East Coast Russian mob, communication flowed through David Giles of the Kelowna Chapter, Hell’s Angles, in concert with his ‘Banker’ directly to Ralph. While other members of the club were present during his negotiations – for security reasons, none other was involved in the transaction.
Image of David Giles, aka Gryator (on right)
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“The Family Man”
With all that is about to be written or read as to the life of Ralph Ross Harris of “Nobody’s Boy” fame, he was at all times a family man.
Where he may have had difficulty keeping his pants zipped up when away from home and therefore demonstrated his inability to remain loyal to his spouse, he never squandered a minute of time when he could be with his two daughters sharing with them as any loving father would.
Ask either of his daughters what they think of their father today and they will express a deep love and affection just like any other healthy father / daughter relationship and this would be done without reservation.
Ralph was always quick to respond in like manner; ‘I would never allow anything to happen to those I love and if anyone should try to harm them, they would get to know me in a very personal way.’
Ask either of his daughters if they knew of his criminal activities and they will hesitate to respond. Neither are slow witted, nor are they unable to read the media or those one on one signals that a parent can inadvertently give off, but both were completely in the dark when it came to certain activities that even Ralph would not speak of openly.
While he may have passed 5 years , this month the positive moments in his life live on with his family.
As for the writing of “Nobody’s Boy”; it would not have been possible without their desire to fulfill their father’s expressed wish to have his life’s story told, no matter what the cost to them publicly.
Image is of one of the many competitions Ralph would participate in. (I know he is in this photo, I just don’t know exactly where.)
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection
“They Can’t Stop the Flood”
Authorities were dumbfounded as they were forced to acknowledge that Art Williams and Dale Elliott had been supplying 85% of the West Coast market in MDA and this they did with a combined use of two kettles.
It was their belief, that if they could remove the manufacturer from the chain of flow then they would suppress the product altogether from reaching the streets,
Such a foolish thought as we now know from intelligence gained through studying the mob and cartel history; it is impossible to stop the flow.
As Ralph Harris picked up where Art and Dale left off, he did so with not two but with eight kettles.
What the authorities had previously considered a social drug flooding the streets of every city from California to Alaska and east to Winnipeg; they now witnessed a tsunami spreading across the continental North America with no idea of its source.
Image is police evidence of Ralph’s lab and his 8 kettles
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection
“In The Beginning”
Ralph Harris’s interest in the production of MDA was not his first foray with drugs. He had been cultivating marijuana since his youth, firstly for his own personal use and then for the growing market.
During an interview he was bold enough to suggest that the high potency pot that has placed British Columbia on the Global drug map was in fact a result of him cross pollinating numerous seeds he had procured from around the world.
He started growing in his youth well away from prowling eyes on the east slopes of Mt. Brenton in Chemainus. Numerous logging roads crisscrossed the mountain allowing him easy access to the mossy outcrops that punctuated the slopes.
In the 1950’s the RCMP neither had the helicopters nor the ability to patrol the remote areas as they do today, so his enterprise grew without interdiction.
Image of Mt. Brenton eastern slopes
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“The Connection”
Ralph Harris and Art Williams had been business and social acquaintances since the mid 1960’s during the time when Archery had found new life in the sports circles.
With Art’s development of the Williams’ Bow, Ralph along with his wife Yvonne discovered they had what it took to send an arrow in the direction it needed to go.
Knowing Art’s darker activities, Ralph asked a number of times if Art would dial him into the MDA production but that was not to happen. Art was reserving his enterprise to a close knit few, this however did not stop Ralph from participating in the distribution end of things should he wish it.
As expected his marriage to Yvonne faltered as more and more of his illicit business relations found their way into the family home.
Ralph and Yvonne had three young children by that time leaving Yvonne feeling at risk for not only the safety of her children but herself as well.
Image is of Ralph and Yvonne testing their skills with Art’s latest invention; a retractable archery target system. This system is now standard issue in most indoor gun ranges.
Image is of Ralph Harris and his first wife Yvonne
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
“Holy Molly”
Andree from Window Seat Books is making sure “Nobody’s Boy” becomes a best seller just like “85 Grams”. Yesterday was her 5th provision of copies in the past two weeks.
Stop in at her Wesley St outlet and encourage her when you have a moment.
“Seven Days Left”
It seems like this past year has just flown by and yet it has consumed the same number of days as it did the year before.
I wish to thank all those who have shown an interest in my FB pages and most particularly to those who have expressed interest in my published books.
I acknowledge my genre for subject matter has not been everyone’s cup of tea but it is what it is; “True, Local Crime That No One Has Taken The Time to Research or Write About”.
Writing about these subjects don’t happen over night but take years of research, interviews coupled with fact checking before I can even consider editing.
Just the same I wish you all a Very Merry Christmas and hopefully a New Year without stress, health concerns or worry.
“The Birth of a Sequel”
In late 1978 the Vancouver Island RCMP celebrated what they referred to as “The cutting off of the dragon’s head”.
In their opinion they had harnessed the flow of the synthetic drug MDA from the west coast of North America with the capture of Dale Elliott. The disappearance of Ladysmith BC’s own Art Williams on Nov. 30, 1977 was their first cause to celebrate but Dale continued to pump the drug out while he was on the lame. His capture was essential. Their quest was realized Feb. 2, 1979 at Lion’s Bay Marina in North Vancouver.
With the day to day flow of the drug onto the city streets halted with his capture, they celebrated the victory over having spent thousands of man-hours and millions of dollars bringing those involved to justice.
But their victory was short-lived as within a matter of days the flow once again started with greater vigour than it had before.
Little did they know that a relatively unknown man by the name of Ralph Ross Harris had recognized the vacuum created by Dale’s incarceration and swept across Art Williams land collecting anything that resembled lab equipment with the needed chemicals to pick up the slack.
Herein spells the premise behind “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection” becoming the sequel to “85 Grams: Art Williams – Drug Czar.”
If for one moment you think Ralph’s story ends here, you are sorely wrong.
RCMP’s surveillance Image of the house in Nanoose Bay that housed Ralph’s lab.
“Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”
I first met Ralph Ross Harris in the mid 1990’s as I was interviewing those who knew Art Williams from a social level.
At our first meet Ralph showed no expression as to whether I was accepted or rejected from becoming a page in his personal Rolodex. His eyes were ice cold and the look he gave me left me with the feeling my life meant nothing to him.
From that first visit I came away understanding that Ralph was a high-level trafficker of Art’s MDA in addition to being a primary supplier of his own high octane Marijuana throughout the Pacific North West.
Some time after this interview I received a request from him to meet at the Haida-Way Restaurant in Chemainus for the purpose of interviewing his first wife Yvonne and recording her life story. On the close of a number of meets it was clear she had suffered indescribable physical and sexual abuse at the hands of her mother, making her story one that definitely needed to be told.
Each time I met Yvonne, Ralph was there, leaving the impression there was more to his attendance than what met the eye.
During our last time together he asked if I would consider putting his life story to print. He stated it would be a no-holds-barred, names would be named and most importantly, for his own safety it was not to be published until after his passing, which happened peacefully during the evening of December 5, 2017
“On Guard”On one of the occasions I met with Ralph, I had no sooner arrived that he pointed his index finger at me in an accusatory manner and stated “We need to talk.”
Had I not had full control over my bladder, I would have wet my pants right there on the spot.
Ralph had already shared some very implicating matters leaving me with the concern that one day he would wake up with the notion I knew too much or I had betrayed him and that would spell the end of me.
The question at hand was: “Is this the day?”
Up he gets from his preferred booth in the Haida-way Restaurant and heads for the men’s washroom.
If you’ve ever experienced the men’s washroom in that place you will recognize there’s barely room enough for one body let alone two.
Ralph went in first, with me following. He was backed up tight against the toilet while I was leaning in and getting real personal in order to close the door behind me. With the door closed there couldn’t have been more than four inches between our vital parts.
I figured at this point, ‘If this was the end for me, there is no way in purgatory he is going to get the door open with my body in front of it.’
Signing a little relief, he proceeded to tell me how he was under obligation to do a deal with Mark Shelley of the US DEA and wasn’t sure if he was going to make it back. He wanted to make certain someone knew where he was and who he was working for if things went south.
With that off his chest, we unwound ourselves from the porcelain fixtures and returned to the safety of his booth in the furthest north corner of the eatery.
Source: “Nobody’s Boy: Ralph Harris – the Northern Connection”