Arctic Predator

I am drawn to moments in the writing process, especially with non-fiction and the research required for this work, when a writer can remember their first moment of encounter with the subject matter that will become a major focal point of their writing for a duration of time, without knowing.

For journalist and writer, Kathleen Lippa, this moment was a news story about the burning of a school portable in a back-issue of Nunavut News North newspaper that stood out for its emotional weight and imagery. Lippa had been studying back-issues of the newspaper to prepare for her new role in 2003 as editor. When she came across a story about people throwing rocks and sticks, as well as screaming at a school portable set on fire, a physical space where young boys had been abused for decades, this was a story that would not leave Lippa for decades.

The structure was almost an embodiment of the sexual predator himself, Edward Horne, Canada’s most unknown and notorious sexual child predator of Canada’s north in the 1970s and into the 1980s. One of the worst criminals in Canadian history, due to the nature of his crimes and duration, but also, one of the most unknown criminals reflecting the ongoing deep rift between media coverage between the north and south, and systemic failures of the country’s legal system. Lippa recalls, ““People were throwing rocks and sticks and screaming at the burning structure as if it embodied Horne, and I just thought there was something about the story,”…“I felt there was more to it.””

And what began as a moment of encounter became over 20 years’ worth of writing, researching, interviewing and re-connecting the pieces of a story that has caused immense inter-generational trauma and left a deep wound in Canada’s arctic. The investigative non-fiction text, a True Crime piece that grew from this writing and researching is “Arctic Predator: The Crimes of Edward Horne Against Children in Canada’s North,” published on February 25, 2025 by Dundurn Press.

Edward Thorne, a young schoolteacher and later principal from British Columbia began committing crimes of child sexual abuse amongst his students from 1971 until 1985. These crimes rocked the most vulnerable communities of Canada’s arctic resulting in lasting damage for generations. Charismatic and perceived as a stellar educator, Thorne had seduced the educational system going undetected and unquestioned as he jumped from one community to the next abusing children and young men. Speaking Inuktitut and providing educational resources for the northern boards in the local language, Horne was revered for his athletic programs, high attendance and sliding amongst communities proclaiming a Mohawk native identity. It would take years for the man’s crimes to catch up to him. Disrupting the communities of Sanikiluaq, Apex, Iqaluit, Kimmirut, Grise Fiord and Cape Dorset (now Kinngait), Thorne had assaulted, violated and documented his abuses of male students.

Lippa works through Horne’s abuses in detail providing a contextual narrative of victim and family testimony, interviews with Horne’s co-workers, and transcripts from court proceedings. Lippa even sat down with Horne himself to carry out interviews of the events after she had written the manuscript from a survivor input first. Her work surfaces the systemic failures of the time that enabled a man like Horne to continue to perpetuate such abuses amongst arctic communities undetected and without punishment.

Kathleen Lippa is a Canadian freelance journalist, writer and photographer. Her work in Arctic Predator was integral to the arctic communities because of her experience living in the north herself. Lippa has worked out of Yellowknife and served as Bureau Chief in Iqaluit, Nunavut. After living for some time in Iqaluit, she settled in Ottawa and St. John’s. Born in Toronto and raised in St. John’s, Newfoundland, she studied to become a professional dancer before switching careers to journalism. Lippa has worked at different newspapers throughout her career like The Express (St. John’s) where she won a Canadian Community Newspaper Association award, The Hanover Post (Ontario), 24 Hours (Toronto) and the Calgary Sun. Arctic Predator is her first non-fiction work.

Lippa is explicit in the ethical perimeters of integrating testimony and interview notes into the overarching narrative. “The people that talked to me, as difficult as it was, they ultimately understood that the only way that things can improve or get better is if people know the truth and it’s not hidden anymore.” This was not an easy book to write, and to spend two decades, on and off, with the subject matter of this text, as well as meeting Horne in person, reflects the dedication that Lippa has to the writing and to the people she serves.

Arctic Predator has been received with complex emotional responses. One reviewer deemed that Arctic Predator should be a book that all Canadians read, much like in a reading space like Canada Reads. Other readers worked through the text for context to understand to support Northern communities today. Another reader hoped that “the decision to publicize this information was made in consultation with the victims, and that this book honours the wishes of those impacted. I hope that the profits of this publication go toward further supporting these communities.” Previous colleagues of Horne spoke out that the book showed both “Ed the man, or Ed, the convicted sex offender.” An uncomfortable, but necessary book for Canadians, one reviewer pointed out that Horne never re-offended, but that does not excuse him from the abuses he committed and the pain he caused. “The pedophile, Horne, is detestable. He reminded me of Ted Bundy in terms of narcissism, his belief that he's a special genius, and his failure to take any real responsibility for the damage he caused. He should have been in prison for 30+ years,” one reviewer stated.

A story of an Arctic Predator is not an easy or comfortable read to work through, the narrative fixed around the behaviour of a man, from a position of domination and abused authority, despite the care to braid through victim voice and testimony, I was left with residue of a pedophile that sought to dominate and take control of the story. I did not like that.

As a teacher, there were times I wanted to put the book down, and many times I needed to sit in silence after reading periods. I hope for a day in the process of a communal receiving of this text into the public that a victim takes hold of the narrative and rises up to regain control and shift focus to a reclamation of identity and surviving, without the presence of Horne’s voice. If that can be done, and if I am not projecting my own wants onto the events.

Lippa began the book with an image of a burning portable and ended with an experience of a survivor facing pain and healing in a similar space. The image of a man crying in the corner of another portable classroom where he was abused, then telling Lippa it felt good to face that, was a powerful craft of storytelling for this disturbing account.

Simultaneously, I perceive another text that explores, with focus, the psychological core of Horne in digging further through interviews with the man of glimpses of dialogue and accounts of the tests that were done on him in hospitals that there is something deeper lurking of the psychological make-up and workings of a man that committed sexual assault on children for the length of time he did. I caught moments of emotional separation, lack of empathy and hints of an underlying condition echoing of almost serial killer tendencies. A verbal denial of the repercussions of his crimes and suicide was another moment during Lippa’s interviews that made me feel that a whole other book was there. But, then again, such a text, again, positions Horne at the centre of the events and perhaps gives him what he craves now, attention.

I had a hard time tracking the man down as I read. He moved around so much and resided in Mexico for some time. A visual timeline of his movements would have helped me navigate the text more readily in order to help provide a springboard for deeper analysis of scrutinizing the topographies of his behaviour. A wall with pin boards and strings, or, just leave it be. At the end of the day, do we have to try and understand why someone would be capable of carrying out the sexual abuse that Horne did? Moving forward, how can Canada help heal and support generations of people who have suffered from the single actions of one man?

I recommend this text for educators to read, for accountability and in understanding how trauma presents in humans. The intergenerational trauma shown in a transparent lens of this text can be applied to other indigenous youth currently suffering, currently being misunderstood.

Thank you to Kathleen Lippa, Dundurn Press and River Street Writing for the complimentary copy in request for an honest review.