Dicking Around With Richie: A True Crime Feed
CASEFILE 1958-12-25: THE THOMAS YOUNG CHRISTMAS DAY MURDERS
When the Holiday Meant Nothing, and Justice Moved Too Fast to Look Back
Christmas morning, 1958. Ear Falls, Ontario. A place where winter doesn’t simply arrive, it settles in. Snow dampens sound. Roads harden into risk. Distance stretches everything, including time. In towns like this, neighbors rely on one another not out of kindness, but necessity. Help exists, but never quickly.
It was the kind of place where borrowing phonograph records on Christmas morning seemed unremarkable. Where danger was supposed to come from the wilderness, not from inside a home. That illusion collapsed before noon.
By the end of the morning, five people were dead. Among them was a police officer who responded alone, interrupted while opening Christmas gifts with his family. Within six months, the man responsible would be executed by the state.
This is not a mystery of who. It is a reckoning with what happened next, and how quickly justice can move when fear and symbolism take control.
The man responsible was Thomas Young. He was 27 years old. That detail matters. This was not a teenager acting in panic. Not an elderly man unraveling. A grown adult, capable of understanding consequence, capable of making decisions, and capable of carrying them out.
The violence that followed was not chaotic. It was sequential. The victims were not random. They formed a deliberate, devastating pattern that mapped directly onto Young’s personal world.
- Albert Young, 47 Thomas Young’s father
- Clara Gordon, 16 pregnant, newly married
- Walter “Jimmy” Gordon, 18 Clara’s husband
- George Williams, 47 a neighbor who ran toward danger
- Constable Calvin Russell Fulford, 29 Ontario Provincial Police
Clara Gordon was sixteen years old. Married for barely two weeks. Pregnant. At the very beginning of a life that had not yet had time to unfold. Evidence established that Clara was sexually assaulted. This fact is not peripheral. It is central. This was sexualized, possessive violence directed at a minor, folded into a spree of murder. Any attempt to soften this case collapses under that truth.
Constable Fulford was not an abstraction of authority. He was a husband, a father of three, and a member of the community he served. Rural policing in the 1950s was personal by necessity. When something went wrong, officers responded immediately and often alone. Backup could be miles away. Radios were limited. There was no tactical unit waiting in the wings.
Fulford arrived armed with a .38 caliber service revolver. Thomas Young carried a .303 Lee-Enfield rifle, a weapon designed for distance, penetration, and lethality. This was never an equal encounter.
Fulford was shot and wounded. And then came the moment that defines the case: Young approached the injured officer, took his revolver, and executed him. This was not panic. Not confusion. It was a deliberate decision to remove the final barrier to control. In that instant, the crime ceased to be only personal violence. It became an assault on the state.
The legal response was swift. Even by late-1950s Canadian standards, this case moved quickly: overwhelming evidence, surviving witnesses, recovered weapons, and no serious dispute over guilt.
But speed does not exist in a vacuum. Just days later, another family massacre occurred in Ontario. Newspapers began referring to the period as a “Black Christmas”, shorthand for a public mood hardened by fear. Multiple domestic massacres. A dead officer. A nation staring at itself through frost-covered windows.
In Canada, criminal prosecutions are brought by “the Crown”, a term that functions the same way “the State” does in U.S. courts. Under Canadian law at the time, the murder of a police officer carried a mandatory death sentence. Clemency decisions rested with the federal Cabinet. In theory, mercy was possible. In practice, it was politically impossible. When the victim wears a badge, commutation dies quietly in a cabinet room.
Thomas Young was executed on June 30, 1959, just six months after the crime. He was among the last people put to death in Canada. The speed of the process reflected not uncertainty, but certainty reinforced by symbolism. The state moved decisively. Efficiently. Without hesitation. The file was closed. The system moved on.
There is no credible dispute over Thomas Young’s guilt. This is not a wrongful conviction case. But it is a case that demands honesty about how justice operates when fear, symbolism, and authority converge.
It also demands that the victims, especially Clara Gordon, be remembered without euphemism, without dilution, and without excuse. Christmas did not soften this case. It sharpened it. Some holidays don’t bring peace. They bring truth.
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