How a homophobic hate crime changed Hamilton

It was a Friday night in February 2004 when Ronn Mattai left his downtown Hamilton restaurant and jazz club to go for a drink a few blocks away.

He met a couple of friends at The Werx, a gay bar on Hughson Street. Then he headed to Absinthe bar on King Street East.

Mattai, then 38, was well known in the community. He owned The Junction Café in a historic building in the International Village. He was pleasant and affable, and he believed in the downtown at a time when other business owners were leaving.

By the time last call came at Absinthe, Mattai was seriously wounded from a violent assault and required more than 200 stitches to his face. A 19-year-old attacked him with a broken whiskey glass and said after: “That homo got what he deserved, I’ll tell you that much.”

Hate crimes still happen in Hamilton. In 2013, police investigated 16 hate crimes or bias incidents against members of the queer community, from verbal abuse to outright assaults. 

But to hear local activists tell it, it’s a different Hamilton from 10 years ago. And Mattai’s attack, as tragic as it was, has something to do with that.

* *

In the days, months and years after the attack, progress happened on many fronts as the city woke up to the need for something to change. The Well, an LGBTQ resource centre opened; Positive Space training happens around the city; police made public shows of support; politically the city created an GBTQ advisory group. In October, Hamilton elected its first openly gay councillor, Aidan Johnson of Ward 1. 

Recently —and perhaps most symbolically—a new gay bar and tapas restaurant, the Steel Lounge, has opened in the same King William Street location that was home to Mattai's Junction Cafe. It's owned by Emily Groom, who is a former board member at The Well and the daughter of a steelworker. On Dec. 20 Groom held a grand opening of her venture, with its stylized steel-themed interior and upstairs dance floor. Most places in Hamilton are queer friendly, said Groom, but she is certainly  aware of the symbolism of her new bar and restaurant. The Steel Lounge is just "a place to call our own."

“It’s fine that we as a community have grown, and that we’re accepted in many spaces,” she said. “But it’s nice to have some place to call your own, a place you feel comfortable to be out. It’s for allies and friends too. It’s an inclusive space.”

**

Mattai, who moved back to Hamilton three years ago, doesn’t like to talk about the incident. 

But details of the attack are in court records of the time. At Absinthe, Mattai sat near a horseshoe-shaped booth downstairs, where 19-year-old Michael Cordiero sat.

Sometime near last call, Mattai heard Cordiero call from the hallway, asking where the coat check and washroom were, the court heard at the time. Mattai went to help, and Cordiero shut the door behind them and smashed him in the face with a glass.

Reaction from the community was immediate, said Deirdre Pike of the Hamilton Positive Space Collaborative.

(It) was one of those defining experiences, I think, for our community, and not one you’re likely to ever forget.- Larry Di Ianni, former Mayor

Police, politicians, clergy and Mayor Larry Di Ianni formed an emergency meeting at city hall to discuss the attack and rally behind Mattai. News of the incident spread across Canada.

Di Ianni and other civic leaders knew it was important “to make a very strong statement,” Di Ianni recalled.

“It was just an instinct. It was something that felt right, and it was right.”

The outpouring “was one of those defining experiences, I think, for our community, and not one you’re likely to ever forget.”

The community raised about $20,000 for Mattai. He received about 5,000 get-well cards, all of which he still has.

From that financial outpouring, The Well formed. Mattai contributed some of his own money to co-found the wellness centre, which offers support, counselling, advocacy and training. It filled a void, he said.

Around the city, other changes were happening. The pride celebration that year was the largest ever. The shift in mood wasn’t always tangible, Pike said, but it was real.

“Even in my own personal journey, it was the time that I said, ‘It’s not enough to hold my partner’s hand. We need some systematic change,’” she said. “That attack was catalytic in our community.”

Mattai’s professional life suffered after the attack. He tried to keep the Junction going, but “I came back too soon,” he told media in 2006. And the once-flourishing café in the 1853 building closed.

'It's a different world today'

But the city itself has undergone what Di Ianni calls “a sea change” when it comes to equality for LGBTQ people.

“It’s a different world today,” he said.

Groom was at Absinthe the night of Mattai’s attack. “It was scary,” she said.

“It was scary to think that as a queer member of this city and this community, you could potentially be attacked and potentially have harm done to you or your friends and family just for being in a social space.”

Some of the moments that moved me most during my campaign were at the doors of senior citizen LGBT people who never thought that an openly gay candidate would ever mount a credible campaign, never mind win.- Coun. Aidan Johnson

Johnson was a grad student at the University of Chicago in 2004. He remembers hearing the news and being “shocked and horrified.” It reminded him of his own experiences of homophobic violence, including when some classmates poured urine on his head when he was a student at Westdale Secondary School.

“Any gay person who’s suffered any kind of physical violence, which is probably most gay people, were reminded in a visceral way of their own experience,” Johnson said.

Johnson feels the sea change too. His marriage to partner Stefan only came up in positive ways during his campaign.

“Some of the moments that moved me most during my campaign were at the doors of senior citizen LGBT people who never thought that an openly gay candidate would ever mount a credible campaign, never mind win,” he said.

Court decisions made a difference

“There were senior citizen lesbians and gay men greeting me with deep emotion and joy. That was quite transformative for me.”

Johnson attributes part of the shift to the legalization of sam-sex marriage. When the courts lead, he said, society usually follows.

“The change in federal and provincial and municipal laws around discrimination and equality have had a very significant impact on the culture,” he said. “Those can’t be underestimated.”

Overall, “in terms of lesbian and gay equality rights, we’re at a very hopeful, positive moment,” Johnson said. Although “transphobia is still a huge problem in Canada.”

Sexual orientation third highest cause of hate crime

Even with the strides of the past decade, things aren’t perfect.

Sexual orientation is the third highest cause for hate crimes or bias incidents, second to race and religion, said Det. Carmen Pietroniro, who forms the police service’s one-person hate crime unit. It has accounted for 65 incidents in the last four years.

Hate crimes are when an actual crime is committed. An incident is when no crime is committed, but conflict happens involving hate or bias. This includes if two neighbours argue and one utters a slur.

More people need to report bias incidents, Pietroniro said. If they don’t, police can’t quantify the problem.

Hate crimes still under reported, but police can't force it

“I wish I could say that we know of all of them, but that can’t be 100-per cent accurate,” he said. “A lot of people don’t report it because they’re fearful, and we can’t force someone to make that report.”

It’s not something you can look at from a win or lose perspective.- Det. Carmen Pietroniro

Police are trying to spread the word through the queer community to report incidents. Officers also tweet reminders from @HPS_VOC.

“Our relationship with the LGBTQ community is good, and we’re very proud of that,” said Pietroniro.

“From what I’ve seen in my time here, I would say that things are getting better. But it’s not something you can look at from a win or lose perspective. I don’t think we like to look at it that way.”

The queer community is more visible now, and that helps, Pike said.

'I want to tell a different story'

“I used to monitor the media to see if there was ever a story about gay people — and back then, it really was all gay (men) — and there was hardly ever anything,” she said. “When stories about LGBTQ people started going up, I saw the language change.”

“It’s really a very different climate in terms of being able to be out.”

**

Mattai is done telling the story of his assault.

His attacker served two years in prison for aggravated assault. In 2010, Mattai won a civil lawsuit against him. This is part of his back story now, but he’s done letting it influence his narrative.

“I want to tell a different story — a positive story,” he said.

I’ve gone in to Hess Village and had a beer, and I never felt threatened. I feel comfortable wherever I am.- Bernie Marcoux

He sees the evolution in a broader perspective. Nearly every bar and restaurant is a queer-friendly space, he said. He particularly likes Locke Street and Augusta Street, where he always feels welcome.

Mattai is doing well, working in the hospitality industry and enjoying being back in Hamilton. Plans are percolating, including plans for another business venture.

Gay couples hold hands and 'no one seems to bat an eye'

His friend, Bernie Marcoux, owned Gomorrah’s Books from 1996 to 2004. He sees the change too.

“You’ll see two people of the same gender walking down King Street holding hands and no one seems to bat an eye,” Marcoux said. “That’s probably indicative of where the city is at.”

“I’ve gone in to Hess Village and had a beer, and I never felt threatened. I feel comfortable wherever I am. I think a lot of LGBT people are integrated now.”

As for Mattai’s future in Hamilton, “I support everything he does,” Marcoux said.

“He’s very ambitious. He’s a go-getter."