Victims Serve Life Sentences, while Privileged Perpetrators Walk
Honouring the Neville-Lake children and their grandfather who died at the hands of a drunk driver
My community of Vaughan, Ontario, and the entire country of Canada, for that matter, is reeling after learning that the man responsible for the death of Jennifer and Edward Neville-Lake’s children, Daniel, 9, Harry, 5, and Milly, 2, and their grandfather, Gary, has been granted full parole.
Marco Muzzo, 34, only served 6 years out of a 10-year sentence. He chose to get behind the wheel with a blood-alcohol level that was three times over the limit. But it is his status as white, rich, and male that many are citing for his full parole. That is the hard pill to swallow, and it is especially unsettling and triggering news for all victims, especially for victims of drunk driving.
The rest of us have been swallowing these pills for far too long. Now, these pills are poisoning our hearts, minds, and spirits. From the countless stories of silenced sexual assault victims, to victims of drunk driving, the message is loud and clear: some lives are more valuable than others due to privilege.
The accident happened about ten minutes away from my home in Vaughan. I still remember that day: a quiet, late Sunday afternoon on September 27, 2015. I was home with my two children at the time, ages 5 and 1, when I heard the devastating news on our local network.
Muzzo had been driving home from Toronto Pearson International Airport. He had just returned from Miami on a private jet, after celebrating his bachelor party in Las Vegas. He was speeding when he ran a stop sign in his Jeep Cherokee and hit the family’s minivan.
But Muzzo wasn’t just anyone: he came from a prestigious family of wealth estimated at $1.7 billion, according to Canadian Business Magazine. Enough money to have been able to hire a fleet of drivers to get home safely – for the children and their grandfather to have come home safely.
But instead, he got behind the wheel of his car and killed 4 innocent human beings. These three precious children were sons, daughters, students, grandchildren, and friends. Their deaths impacted many who knew them and then eventually all that came to know of them.
The mom’s angst particularly left a hole in our hearts, as we witnessed her move from shock, to grief, to resistance and advocacy. Her leadership role in sharing her children's legacy and raising awareness about drunk driving has been nothing short of amazing.
At the time of the incident, Muzzo had been working for the billion-dollar construction empire founded by his late grandfather. Since, then his family has donated millions to a new state-of-the-art hospital, Cortellucci Vaughan Hospital, where the tragic accident occurred. Consequently, the hospital has since named a wing after two families — the De Gasperis – Muzzo Tower.
I don’t know about you, but I do not want to be reminded of his name. I don’t need to be reminded of his name every time I see news headlines. I don’t need to be reminded of his name in the community. I understand and appreciate, the philanthropic efforts of his family, but given the devastation that Muzzo caused on the streets of Vaughan, I would have much rather seen the wing dedicated in memory of the victims. But that’s just me I guess.
That’s just the way a middle-class mom of 3 children thinks. I also think that every single mother out there is crying with Jennifer. And so is every victim who was ever robbed of justice, and then silenced and retraumatized by knowing that wealth, race, or status is to blame for absolving perpetrators. The fact that privilege made Muzzo’s outcome more favourable, while children’s lives were robbed – stings.
The news of Muzzo’s full parole was a hard day for all victims who fight an inner battle day in and day out: a life sentence that the parents are serving while Muzzo walks.
Lindsay Soberano-Wilson is a mom, poet, teacher, and freelance writer. Her debut chapbook Casa de mi Corazón: A Travel Journal of Poetry & Memoir (Poetica) is coming soon. Find her on Medium, Instagram, or Twitter @Poetry Matters.
