MANITOULIN ISLAND—In the cool, unyielding light of a Canadian dawn, two families—each scarred by loss yet burning with a fierce desire for truth—stand at the crossroads of history and the present. Though separated by decades, their stories echo with the same urgent cry for justice.
For Meggie Cywink, the relentless search for answers began 30 years ago with the brutal murder of her sister, Sonia. Found in a lonely ditch near London, Ontario, partially clothed and bearing the unmistakable marks of violence, Sonia’s death was shrouded in mystery and marred by investigative oversights. Sonia’s body was discovered just outside of London, Ontario at Iona Station Earth Works on August 30, 1994.
“I do not believe my sister would go to a place like that willingly,” Ms. Cywink insists. “The location where she was found… is quite a ways inwards. I believe she was killed somewhere else and brought there.”
Her voice, resolute yet haunted, carries the weight of a lifetime spent questioning every misstep of the past. With the help of a retired police officer and evidence linked to Larry Fink—a man who confessed to luring Sonia into dangerous situations using crack cocaine, admitting in a recording “I strung her out, I got the dirtiest crack cocaine I could find and I strung her out” —Ms. Cywink’s tireless pursuit has forced a long-overdue review of the case, culminating in two women coming forward with different accounts of the cause of Sonia’s death.
One woman claimed she had witnessed a party dispute tangled up in drugs. Another, cloaked in anonymity, alleged that Sonia was beaten to death by a member of a criminal organization at “the clubhouse”—a place where women were trafficked, their lives traded like currency.
A year after Sonia’s death, a pathologist delivered the final word: though her body bore multiple contusions, bruises darkening her face and neck, it was her toxicology report that sealed her fate in the eyes of the system. Sonia was also pregnant at the time of her death.
What remains undeniable is this—too often, the violent deaths of Indigenous women are dismissed, their struggles reduced to substance use, their lives weighed against their choices rather than the forces that led them there. Meanwhile, the perpetrators walk free, and the systems that failed them remain untouched.
In 1994, Sonia was a familiar face at a late-night spot tucked away in a garage run by Mr. Fink—a man whose name would later echo with darker undertones. That year, Mr. Fink wasn’t just mixing drinks; he was also stirring up trouble with multiple run-ins with the law. Just months before Sonia’s tragic end, he faced assault charges in London. Two witnesses, preferring the shadows over the spotlight, later revealed that they had tipped off the police about him. And in a moment of relentless pursuit for truth, Maggie recalls questioning Fink about Sonia’s mysterious London life. Mr. Fink was the father of Sonia’s unborn child at the time of her murder.
Fast forward to nearly six months ago, October 4, 2025, and another heartbreak unspools on Manitoulin Island. Juanita “Winnie” Migwans, a missing Indigenous woman, has vanished into a silence that stings with the echoes of past neglect. In a community where whispers of loss grow into a roar, local families are mobilizing—a campaign to raise awareness and funds, to light up dark highways with billboards that scream for answers. The plan is as ambitious as it is poignant: billboards costing roughly $3,500 each, with printing expenses adding up to $3,600. One such billboard, already standing as a beacon of hope thanks to Winnie’s aunt, Mary Dale Ashcroft, advertises a $100,000 reward. It’s a call to arms—a public declaration that these stories and lives deserve more than fading into the night.
Peggy Simon, a volunteer and fundraiser, sums it up with a mix of pragmatism and passion:
“It’s coming along quickly, and it’s rewarding that there’s such an interest in our cause and that people want to help. A lot of people wanted to help, but they didn’t know how. Yeah, and it’s like, ever since the RHT (monies were dispensed), a lot more (First Nations people) are going missing also.
Her words edged with urgency, capture the spirit of a community that refuses to be sidelined. They’re not waiting for bureaucracy to catch up—they’re taking matters into their own hands, enlisting local students, the Chief and Council, and every willing heart to bridge the gap between despair and deliverance. Juanita “Winnie” Migwans went missing on October 4, 2024, and her bank account with her portion of the historic settlement remains untouched, pointing to foul play in her disappearance.
“How, in this day and age, does someone just disappear off the face of the earth like that,” Ms. Simon implored. “If someone is scared to speak out, it tells me they’re worried for their safety. Here in Manitoulin, we’re a close-knit, caring community—neighbours who know each other. If we join our hearts and minds, I truly believe we can bring Winnie home. That’s why I started the ‘Bring Winnie Home, Angels’ campaign. While some have embraced the hashtag #WinnieWarriors, I’m not out to wage a battle—I’m here simply to advocate for love and light.”
In a synchronistic moment, CBC’s The Fifth Estate revisited Sonia’s case in a revealing piece on March 14, the same day that the first billboard for Juanita Migwans was unveiled. Now the narrative is expanding, linking the decades-old tragedy with Winnie’s modern plight. It’s a collision of time—where the past’s unresolved wounds meet the present’s active struggle for accountability.
Islander Richard Orford, Sonia’s roommate in London at the time of her disappearance, told The Fifth Estate that he believes himself to be the last person to see her alive.
“I remember that night clearly. I stepped out the front door in East London and saw Sonia getting into a red car with a man I’d never seen before—a guy decked out in jewelry. She leaned toward him, and before I knew it, she was gone. We’d only lived together for a few months, and there were always parts of her life she kept private. I’ll never forget that car, red with white seats.”
On that fateful Thursday, August 25, 1994, Sonia disappeared into the night. Days later, her sister awoke with an unshakable unease and set off for London. The next day, a work-worn sister returned home with a tremor in her voice: ‘I heard on the news—a woman’s body found at the South Walled Earthworks, partially clothed.’ Suddenly, disbelief gave way to the bitter realization—it was Sonia. That same evening, as the police delivered the shattering news to their father and frantic calls filled the night, their world was irrevocably split by grief.
Both families are bound by the belief that every Indigenous woman deserves the truth. In a country where statistics reveal a harrowing disparity—11 percent of missing women being Indigenous compared to four percent of the total population—each unsolved case is not merely a personal tragedy but a stark indictment of systemic neglect.
As the community campaign gains momentum, the billboards are poised to become more than just advertisements; they will be symbols of resilience and defiance—a public demand that silence and indifference give way to answers. The road ahead is fraught with questions. How did Sonia’s body end up in that desolate park? How can a society justify the slow, often reluctant march toward justice? And most hauntingly, where is Winnie?
As the community campaign gathers steam, organizer Peggy Simon issued a stirring call to action. “Join us on this vital mission—one that stretches far beyond mere awareness—to demand justice and dignity for the Indigenous women we cherish,” a letter by Ms. Simon declares. “Juanita ‘Winnie’ Migwans’ disappearance is not just a personal tragedy; it is a painful chapter in a national narrative that haunts communities across our land. With six long months passing as of April 3, the urgency to raise awareness has never been greater.”
The initiative seeks to strategically deploy billboards at key junctures on Manitoulin Island and along Highways 69 and 17, including a dedicated placement at M’Chigeeng First Nation. With the generous support of landowner Sophie Pheasant—who has offered her property for one of these signs—the plan envisions billboards as beacons of hope. Each sign, costing roughly $3,500, represents a modest investment in the fight for visibility and justice.
“Imagine a billboard along the bustling corridors of Highways 69 and 17, a constant reminder of the crisis facing Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls,” the letter continues. “Statistics are chilling: Indigenous women account for 16 percent of female homicide victims and 11 percent of all missing women, despite making up only 4.3 percent of our population. Moreover, 13 percent of Indigenous individuals suffer violence from current or former partners—a figure alarmingly double that of their non-Indigenous counterparts (Source: Assembly of First Nations).”
The campaign humbly requests contributions of $500 or $1,000 from local organizations, with every dollar illuminating the path toward change. “Together, as angels of our community, we can amplify the voices long silenced and bring the urgent need for justice into the light.”
The community campaign is more than a plea—it is an act of resilience. With billboards poised to transform from mere advertisements into symbols of defiance, local students, the Chief and Council, and every willing heart are uniting to bridge the gap between despair and deliverance. The reward for information leading to Sonia’s murderer now stands at $75,000, while Winnie’s reward has been raised to $100,000.
As past tragedies collide with present struggles, the burning question remains: How did Sonia’s body come to lie in that desolate park? How can a society continue to silence the voices of its most vulnerable? And most hauntingly, where is Winnie? In the interstice of these unanswered questions, hope flickers—a hope that through relentless advocacy and unyielding community spirit, the past might one day be reconciled with the present, and the long silence finally broken.
For those willing to join the fight, Ms. Peggy Simon of M’Chigeeng First Nation seeks donations to propel the billboard campaign forward, every dollar counts, no matter how small. You can contact her at peggysimonmfn@gmail.com
