An Arresting Experience

I really missed Jean…I hadn’t seen her, in all actuality, throughout most of 2009. That’s why we finally set aside some time at the beginning of December to head off on one of our legendary Vancouver day trips, partaking in touristy activities, courtesy of her tourism passport. Today’s destination was the grisly Vancouver Police Museum, which we had attempted to visit earlier back in 2008, but they were closed. We parked Jean’s jalopy (which I love) downtown and boarded the “Big” Bus which would take us down into the seedy corridor of the Downtown Eastside, where the museum is located.


Apparently we are the only tourists today.







The museum was pretty quiet even though it was a Saturday. The displays started off harmless enough…some regalia, old motorcycles, different articles…you know, kid stuff.




BEST BIKE COP EVER!


The bathrooms kind of felt like drafty old church bathrooms. Creepy.

As we kept on moving through the museum, eventually it turned more violent: a wall display case filled with homemade weapons – brass knuckles, flails, maces, spiked shin-pads, etc. To think people made these items to use just makes me uneasy. Then we got to the rooms with graphic content advisories – these are the actual rooms of the old city morgue. They still had the body shelving units in the wall, a la CSI. There were body-type objects inside but I was too creeped out to look closer.





Some of the articles they had on the wall were downright disturbing – they had photographs taken of murder victims, still lying in their own pools of blood, and photos of homes after a murder spree. Gak! I’m too young to see these things. I didn’t take any pictures of those, don’t worry. They also had a boy who accidentally shot an arrow through his eye and into his head…and then the arrow was on display! Not even enclosed in a display case! I could have touched it if I wanted. Gross. They had the original autopsy beds still out…with the original tubing. It was dirty. Me and Jean eventually felt so ill we had to leave.

Outside the museum was a different kind of uncomfortable feeling…we were waiting for the trolley car to come take us back downtown, but as it was off-season, it didn’t come around very often, so we had to wait. And we waited. And waited more. Eventually a prostitute came by and started to solicit on our block. She had a long blonde wig and a bright pink dress on. There were potential customers…that’s all I’ll say without grossing you out anymore than you already are. Eventually the trolley came…and I couldn’t climb on fast enough.



After a bit of shopping and picking up a smoothie, we headed home. I think that was enough for one day…and who is hungry after all that? YIKES!