Justices of the peace, as lay members of their communities, have a unique role in the Northern criminal justice system.

In Southern Canada justices of the peace, or JPs as they're commonly known, preside mainly over bail hearings. They assist in swearing "informations" containing criminal charges, issue search warrants and hear only minor provincial offences.

Justices of the peace in the Northwest Territories also hear uncontested minor criminal cases, accept guilty pleas and impose sentences. Some even conduct criminal trials in less serious cases that do not involve Charter of Rights challenges or expert witness testimony.

The justice of the peace system in the NWT dates back to the 1950s, before the territory had resident judges, Chief Judge Robert Halifax observed recently. While the justice of the peace court is "virtually extinct" in most of Canada, it is a necessity here. "To be quite frank, if we had to do them (cases handled by JPs) in territorial court, I would need at least three or four judges. We're talking thousands of cases a year that they deal with."

And who are these justices of the peace? They are lay members of the communities they live in. Halifax says, ideally, they know the local history of their community, demonstrate maturity and wisdom, and bring their life experience to the post.

While they receive some training through the Chief Judge's Office, JPs are not judges or lawyers.

"You have to have a general interest in people and you certainly have to have a thick skin," JP Erik Kieken told Yellowknifer. Exactly. Common sense and wisdom are fundamental attributes of justice. Lawyers and judges, like the rest of us, do not enjoy a monopoly when it comes to those virtues.

In a city where land is at a premium and grassy fields are even more rare, soccer has been forced indoors.

It's a sweet sport, tailored to any ability, open to both sexes and is one that comes at very little cost to players. All you need are some boots, shin pads, shorts, and a willingness to run and you're good to go.

Thanks to that and the sport's popularity, Yellowknife's Aurora Minor Soccer League is growing. This past season it had 561 players signed up. That's more than minor hockey (444) and more than gymnastics (400-plus).

Despite continued growth, as long as the Aurora league is confined to the city's gymnasiums, the sport will be handcuffed.

Small gyms limit skill development and restrict continued growth.

League officials know that and have put a lot of time and effort into a proposal to build a indoor soccer facility.

Unfortunately, their pitch comes at a difficult time. The city's new twin-pad arena is $2 million over its $11.3 million budget. The gymnastics club has been fund-raising for years to build its own facility. A committee is trying to raise the $2.8 million it will cost to build the second pad this fall, rather than waiting until the city has enough money in the bank.

That shouldn't kill the idea. Soccer deserves its place in Yellowknife.

The city knows it and in its 10-year capital plan calls for spending $2 million on an indoor pitch and indoor running track, "the most important recreational facilities lacking and needed in the community." The city hopes to have enough money to build them by 2007.

Whether or not we can wait that long is another thing.

The soccer league wants a facility as quickly as possible and will boost its fee by $25 a person next season to start a building fund.

It's up to city council -- and all those soccer moms and dads -- to make sure the new pitch doesn't fall off the agenda.

Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News

There can be no denying the tremendous pressure the Nunavut government found itself under to offer a quick solution to the bad gas dilemma.

We applaud how expeditiously the government moved on testing the gas, setting up a compensation package for those who have suffered engine damage and working to find a long-term solution to the problem.

That being said, we have grave concerns about the government's decision to drop the price of gasoline by 33 per cent at the pumps.

On the surface, it appears to be a good-will gesture to pacify those who are upset over paying top dollar for sub-standard fuel. However, the move is also prompting people to fill up their machines even more with gas already proven to damage engines.

The price cut could easily be viewed as a move by the government to encourage people to purchase more gas at a discounted price to go through the supply faster.

The problem this creates is twofold. First, with people racing out to take advantage of the discounted price, it is inevitable that some of them are going to find themselves in trouble using this gas. Whether it's stranded on the land or stranded on the water -- people using this gas are going to have their machines break down.

It's been happening since the supply arrived and it's not going to stop now simply because it's cheaper. Reducing the price of the tainted gas by 33 per cent isn't going to make it any better.

Second, we fail to see how increased consumption of the tainted gas is not going to lead to even more compensation claims against the government before all is said and done. The move to discount the gasoline now could, in effect, lead to a much larger price tag for the government to pay in the future.

Having moved so quickly with the compensation package -- taking for granted it will be fair and easily accessed by those who truly deserve it -- the government has already earned itself good reviews for addressing the problem.

It would have been better thinking on its behalf to leave the price as it was in hopes people would only use what they absolutely needed.

In fact, an argument could be made that the government would have been better served to have come up with a rationing formula to keep the purchase of tainted gas at a minimum until such a time as a successful way to improve its quality was implemented.

When it comes to buying tainted gas at any price, the song being sung is still a sour one. And, sooner or later, somebody's going to have to pay the fiddler.

Editorial Comment
Terry Halifax
Inuvik Drum

It's encouraging to see that emergency services here are working together to learn from the recent thin ice tragedy in Inuvik.

Those grieving can at least take quiet comfort that initiatives are at work that may save a life.

There are split-second, life and death choices that must be made in these types of emergencies and transportation shouldn't be one of those choices.

In winter, it's a snow machine; in summer, it's a boat and in between...

In between there is no choice here.

If an option was available at the time, no doubt a hovercraft would have been the first rescue option.

Getting to the scene is the primary goal of any rescue effort and they need not be having to make decisions on how to get there.

The Delta offers an environment unsuitable for either land or water craft this time of year. It's a risky, treacherous soup of land, water, mud and ice.

There are a few seasonal stories that Northern reporters dread writing about each year: one of them is when someone intoxicated falls asleep in the snow and another is people dying under ice.

A close friend of mine died in a combination of the two -- drinking and diving. Kelly Stone died SCUBA diving under the lake ice, with fishing line tied to his belt that never stayed tied.

Kelly never found his way back to the hole and it was four months until anyone found Kelly.

Everytime I think about thin ice, I think about Kelly. Down there in the dark, running out of air, smashing and clawing at the ice above. I think about his friends on the surface, frantically cutting holes with a chainsaw, jumping up and down on the ice and shining a puny flashlight on a string down the hole.

I think about his family, who had to wait until spring, before they could inter his body.

I think about those things and it's enough give me goosebumps and way more than enough to keep my feet off thin ice.

Last week, someone told me of a race, where people would bet thousands of dollars and pink slips to see who be first to drive their truck from Aklavik to Inuvik on the new ice.

There's a thin line between brave and crazy, but driving a ton of steel across thin ice is a long way from brave.

Roderick Simon wasn't after a pink slip or money, he just wanted to go shoot a few geese, like he'd done every spring.

When Roderick went hunting, the river was soft and opening up all over.

At some point, there must have been a question; there must have been a doubt that was never acted on.

At some point, he knew he was pushing his luck, but he didn't turn back.

He never knew my friend Kelly but if he did, he might have thought twice about travelling the river and that's why I told you.

When the geese are on the wing and the moose is on the rut, we all think about spring and fall hunts, but we should also think about thin ice and the ones who've gone before.

Think about my friend Kelly and your friend Roderick before you answer the question and before you take that first step.

And if the ones who've gone before aren't enough to make you play safe, think about the ones you might leave behind.

Editorial Comment
Deh Cho Drum

No easy job Acho Dene Koe band members in Fort Liard obviously went to the polls with change in mind last week.

Change is what they got.

Floyd Bertrand, an approachable and soft-spoken individual, replaces Judy Kotchea, who shares the same qualities and who had spent the past two years learning the ropes as chief.

Only two members of the former Acho Dene Koe council, elder Stanley Bertrand and Floyd Diamond'C, have been returned to office. Two other former councillors, Kim Deneron and Phillip Betthale, chose not to run again, and, sadly, former long-time councillor Daniel Lomen perished in a plane crash last year.

The learning curve will be substantial for the new chief and council, but it comes with the territory.

It's hard to fault Judy Kotchea, the first female chief in Fort Liard, for the job she did since June 2000. She was often a lone voice at the Deh Cho First Nations' assemblies, fighting for the Acho Dene's interests. Whether one agreed with her outlook or not, it took a great deal of courage to stand firm.

The Acho Dene Koe were also the only ones in the Deh Cho region to sign on with the Aboriginal Pipeline Group (APG) last year. Their band council also undertook a community oil and gas review and told oil and gas companies that there would be no further land issuances until the band's land claim is settled. That, of course, is a very ambitious project, as the Acho Dene are trying to reclaim traditional lands in an adjacent province and territory.

Being an elected leader places great demands on one's time. In addition to regular council meetings, in the case of Fort Liard, there are numerous business engagements. Not to mention that people tend to stop elected leaders in the street to ask questions, share concerns or chastise them. As well, elected officials are expected to be present at practically all community events, often as guest speakers. This isn't an easy balancing act, particularly when a chief or a mayor has a family to consider.

So when the nostalgia flies about chiefs who used to consult with community members by going door to door, it's important to remember that that occurred in a different era when communities were smaller and demands on a chief's time weren't as extreme. Today, it's up to band members and constituents to attend community meetings or schedule an appointment with the chief or mayor at the office, or at least approach a councillor with questions or misgivings. While an elected leader is expected to be accountable, the public must also make an effort.

Convoluted process

Canadian Zinc is just the latest example of a resource development company stymied by the cumbersome regulatory regime in the NWT, and it's not the company's first exposure to a prolonged delay. While the Mackenzie Valley Environmental Impact Review Board has detected some legitimate areas of concern, after lengthy review that same board made recommendations as to how these concerns should be addressed. For other agencies, which are sometimes accused of being bloated bureaucracies (yet the people at the ground level are often scurrying to keep up with the workload), to add another several months to the wait is ludicrous. There has been plenty of talk of streamlining the regulatory authorities in the NWT, but there's no proof in this situation that any such improvements have come to pass.