Municipal Justice Building changes faces over years
During the 90 years it's stood at the corner of Halifax Street and 11th Avenue, the Municipal Justice Building (MJB) has seen a lot.
It's been both a police station and a courthouse.
It witnessed the Regina Riot and stood watch as a wounded police officer died near or even within its then-walls.
The MJB stood its ground as the neighbourhood around it changed. Now out of use, the building's future was uncertain.
Currently housing little more than a few stubborn pigeons, it's expected to find new life as a neighbourhood community centre as well as a fitness and training space for the Regina Police Service — the result of a public survey on a redevelopment plan for the historic
building. Those who have worked in the building have a variety of views about their time there.
For those in the court system, the makeshift courthouse — which it became after police moved into their current headquarters — left much to be desired in terms of both its layout and its functionality.
But for a number of now-retired police officers, the old MJB carries plenty of good memories.
For retired Const. Marv Kereluke, with those good memories comes the feeling of home.
“It definitely is home, there's no question,” he said.
“It's just exactly like a country school … When you're going to a one-room country school, you're spending most of your active time there, and it's the same with a police force. With a building like this one, you're there every day, so this does become a home sweet home to you.”
THE EARLY DAYS
Built in 1930 to provide a new headquarters for the city's police force, the MJB saw tragedy only five years later when the Regina Riot broke out more or less next door, near the location marked by current RPS headquarters.
Retired Staff Sgt. Bob Koroluk has become a historian for the force, collecting documents, photos, articles and memories for his website reginacity.com. The site contains a recorded interview with the late Sgt. Dan Magee speaking about his memories of the riot and the death of Det. Charles Millar — one of two RPS members killed in the line of duty during the force's history.
“We heard lots of stories and read up about it,” said Koroluk of the riot. “It's part of our history.”
He said he was given a briefcase containing the personal police belongings of Magee. Among items inside were letters with details about Millar's death, including one by former member Alex Hill, seen in the well-known photo trying to assist a wounded Millar.
Hill recounted rioters “advancing on us with shovels, two by fours and tossing stones and other missles (sic) at us.”
“I got hit just about the time I had turned around to try and lift Charlie, a heavy man, onto my shoulders,” Hill wrote. “The hit was to my ear, and I today am reminded of that incident by the fact that my hearing is gone in the ear, and my natural balance is somewhat affected.”
Magee said Hill managed to drag Millar into the MJB'S garage, following which Magee took Millar to the hospital in an old police wagon.
“I knew Millar was dead,” he said, adding he had the task of returning to headquarters and reporting his colleague had died. “Stuff like that stays with you.”
According to former city police chief Arthur George Cookson in his book From Harrow to Hawk, his initial response to the MJB was anything but positive.
Cookson — chief from 1954 to 1971 and described as a “no-nonsense, forthright man” on the RPS website — said his first impressions of the station included excessively dim lighting and a “pungent” odour from the cells area, then located on the main floor.
“I was appalled at the condition of the building interior,” he wrote of his first 1954 experience. “The lights were so dim as to cause eyestrain in certain areas. I recalled Constable Clifford Leach, doing turnkey duty at the front counter, with his nose within six inches of the docket book, trying to decipher an inmate's name.”
He added the place was “badly in need of redecorating,” with old furnishings, filing being done in the hallways and overcrowded office space.
The chief's office, located at the rear, fared little better.
“The carpet in the chief's office was so threadbare that it exposed the underlying floor in many places,” Cookson wrote. “White curtains graced the lower half of the three office windows. When I tried to feel the texture of one of them, the material disintegrated in my fingers. That is how old they were.”
Despite those initial impressions, the building quickly became like home to members who worked there.
PRANKS
Standing outside on an unseasonably warm January afternoon, Kereluke pointed out the door on the east side once used to transport prisoners down to cells. He recalled getting to work one bitterly cold night and stumbling upon a situation in which a released prisoner didn't want to leave when he got his first taste of the weather.
“He turned around and went back in,” laughed Kereluke.
While policing was often serious business with its share of unpleasantness and risks, retired members have plenty of stories — such as the persistent chill within the building or an old elevator that wouldn't work unless you continually held the button.
There are also tales of camaraderie and practical jokes that
occurred in and around the MJB.
Kereluke recalls many such jokes occurred in the darkened parking lot at the end of shift. He laughs while recalling he and his partner piling spare tires atop the inspector's car and adorning it with streamers at 3 a.m., then sitting in the dark to await the show. While they waited, another officer walked out, saw what was up, then added his own spare tire and some traffic cones.
“When the inspector came out, he started yelling my name because I used to always be back and forth with him and little jokes on each other,” Kereluke said. “We were sitting in Market Square in our car, just laughing our heads off.”
Kereluke — an officer from 1966 to 1992 — eventually moved over with everyone else to the new headquarters when it opened in 1978. Police retained some use of the MJB over the years, including its gym, a weight room and additional unit and storage space, but police moved out fully in 2015.
Koroluk said by the late 1970s, the department had grown and space was at a premium.
“You need a good environment to work out of …,” said Koroluk, who worked with the RPS between 1979 and 2016. “In the old days, everybody kind of had little offices and you had to run across the hallway if you wanted to confer about a file. Now their office space is set up so it's more conducive to these large, major investigations. I think the environment you work in makes quite a big difference, especially in the complicated cases.”
COURT
As police outgrew the building, municipal and provincial courts made themselves a temporary home there.
Now-retired judge Bruce Henning is grateful for the temporary aspect. Appointed to the bench in 1978, Henning sat for a while in the MJB before the current provincial court building was constructed on Smith Street in the mid-1980s.
For Henning, it was clear the MJB was showing its age.
“I remember once I was in court and fly larvae started falling out of the ceiling,” he said with a smile. “So I adjourned court for a few minutes and called the caretaker, and he said, `I'll vacuum these up and we'll fix it all.' And it happened once or twice.”
While it's rare to be distracted by outside noise in the current building, not so at the MJB. Henning recalled a story about another judge whose matter was interrupted by loud music from a public event outside. He told a security person to go out and put a stop to it, but was soon after informed security couldn't meet the order. The judge decided to take matters into his own hands and headed out to the gathering himself.
“Then he noticed the mayor and the premier there so he sort of backed off at that point,” Henning said with a chuckle.
Amusing stories aside, Henning — who acted for many years as administrative judge for court facilities — noted the MJB wasn't ideal in a number of more serious ways, including privacy and security. It wasn't unusual to find lawyers forced to meet with clients in the public hallways or lobby area or to see prisoners escorted through the public. While the setup sometimes allowed for informal out-ofcourt settlements of cases given all parties were present in the hall, it could also be detrimental — particularly when an intimidating
accused had to be escorted past witnesses or even a victim.
And given judges' offices — Henning 's own overlooked a brick wall — opened into public areas, they often opted to wait to venture out until much of the building was empty at the end of the day.
The current Regina Provincial Court building on Smith Street was purpose-built, Henning pointing out it contains three separate circulation systems — one each for staff, people in custody and the public.
Aside from being more functional as a courthouse, Henning noted another difference between the MJB and the current building is that a purpose-built courthouse commands a certain sense of respect or gravitas.
“The facility does have an effect on the perception of justice and the importance of justice …,” Henning said. “That's why you need good court facilities. It's not to make the judge feel good or even the lawyers. It's really for the public, to make it easier for the proceeding to be conducted and reach the proper conclusion in it without unnecessary stress, intimidation or confusion to the witnesses or other participants. So when we went from a poorer court facility to a better court facility, there is no question but that you observed that people who appeared in court conducted themselves better, addressed the court more formally and with more respect, and conducted themselves toward the proceeding with a greater degree of respect when the building and the whole manner of conducting it encouraged that.”
GOING FORWARD
Those who worked there said they're pleased the MJB is getting a chance at rejuvenation rather than seeing it demolished.
For Kereluke, he's glad he'll be able to drive past the place from time to time and point out to people where he used to work.
“It was a good place to work at, it was a fun place to work at, and it was like the home …,” he said. “There was always a lot of kibitzing going on and a lot of exchanging of jokes and sharing notes about what you investigated that night, and everybody was sharing memories of the day. After a while, you've got memories for years.”