At
9 p.m. Tuesday, about 2 million Quebeckers turned on their
TVs and tuned in to Radio-Canada for the last chapter of Les
Lavigueur, la vraie histoire — The Lavigueurs,
the real story. The miniseries chronicles a family who won
$7.6 million on April 1st, 1986, which proved to be the ticket
for an instant — and unwanted – celebrity. It
was the hit of the season on French television.
Since it first advertised the serial drama, Radio-Canada claimed
many times its goal was to set the record straight and to
repair injustices committed by reporters during the months
and years following their win. “They were a united,
simple family, who loved each other,” said Mario
Clément, director of programming, when he launched
the series. “They went through an incredible human
drama. As a public broadcaster, we wanted to rehabilitate
their name.”
As Clément points out, more than twenty years after
the events, the story of the Lavigueurs is still a relevant
tale of the interaction between citizens and the media.
The lottery winning on April 1st, 1986, was reported as a
fairy tale for the Lavigueurs, representing the promise of
better days. The audience discovers the close-knit family
when Loto-Québec introduces them at a press
conference as the recipients of the largest amount of
money ever won in Quebec history.
Jean-Guy Lavigueur, his children Sylvie, Yve and Michel, their
uncle Jean-Marie and a man who found the winning ticket after
Jean-Guy lost his wallet and brought it back knowing what
it was worth, all made the front page of the Journal de Montréal,
Montreal’s tabloid, the next day.
The matriarch of the family, Marie Daudelin, died in 1983
from a heart condition. Two other children also died at early
ages. When Jean-Guy Lavigueur purchases his winning ticket
he is unemployed, after losing his 34-year-long job at the
United Bedding Company. He is analphabet, an illiterate who
doesn’t know the alphabet, and relies on his oldest
daughter, Sylvie, to take care of the family.
Despite their seemingly good fortune, their winning proved
to be the beginning of a Greek tragedy for the Lavigueurs.
Making colorful statements to the media, the Lavigueurs made
the headlines several times, and the spin was rarely positive.
The youngest daughter, Louise, eventually sued her family
to get her share of the prize. She had been excluded because
she was not living with the rest of the family at the time
of the winning. The process, followed by the media became
an easy source for dirty stories – among them rumors
that Jean-Guy was abusing his daughter. Then, the family bought
a 22-room mansion worth $850 000.
For many years, the Lavigueur have been the subject of many
jokes, spoofs and mockeries in the public sphere. During the
same period, a Dutch comedy showing a family on social assistance
was dubbed in Québec and translated under the title
“Les Lavigueurs déménagent”.
Twenty-two years later, only two of the eight Lavigueur are
still alive. The others are dead, one of them by suicide.
Most of their fortune is now gone. After Yve’s struggles
to solve his problems with drug addiction, he wrote a book
about his experience, in an attempt to restore his family
name.
That’s the insider story the miniseries is telling,
and, to the credit of the artisans, with not only commercial
success – they received amazing reviews –even
from reporters. But ironically, the “truth” the
series is trying to show is subject to controversy. In trying
to shed new light on this family, Jacques Savoie, the screenwriter,
decided to portray the story from the inside. Even though
he claims to tell a story, a greater truth, he changed some
of the facts and of the chronology in the story for dramatization
purposes.
Individuals surrounding the Lavigueur – reporters, lawyers,
Louise’s lover, and even the real estate agent who sold
them their house - are depicted as reptiles who’d do
anything to make money.
Herein lies the main problem. The reporters and lawyers the
story shows never existed. They’re composite characters.
It ‘s not even confirmed that Louise’s lover had
any influence on her suing her family.
Le Journal de Montréal wrote several pieces to correct
the “mistakes” made in telling the true story
of the Lavigueurs. The mean reporters were complete fabrications.
The lawyer for one of the family members issued statements
saying he was unhappy with his depiction, and even the realtor
who sold the family its mansion complained that her depiction
was unfair.
By trying to repair an injustice, the miniseries itself is
creating another flow of injustices.
Despite the controversy, there’s much to learn from
a reporter’s perspective about the consequences of our
reporting. Throughout the 80’s the Lavigueurs were an
easy target for radio talk shows, news reporters and even
satirists. Depicted as welfare bums who were dilapidating
their fortune, the Lavigueurs weren’t allowed any sympathy.
The news stories, however, hid a darker story. A drama the
media failed to represent accurately, even though their reporting
was mostly accurate and based on facts.
What is the public interest in following a family who won
the lottery? What are the ethical implications surrounding
the coverage of stories with people who make news not because
they want to, like politicians, but because of a particular
fate?
Small details, mistakes we make have a bigger impact on those
we report on. Jean-Guy Lavigueur, whom the media depicted
as a “BS”, someone on welfare, a title attached
to many prejudices in Québec. He was not a “BS”.
No doubt the mistake had an impact of the perception of the
man. After he won, his former status as a “BS”
made it acceptable to laugh at him without consideration for
his suffering.
There’s also hope that a story like the Lavigueur’s
wouldn’t happen today. The Lavigueurs were unprepared
to face the media circus inherent with such a situation. Loto-Québec
has since improved its support to winners. And reporters are
more and more aware of their impact.
When the sixth – and last – episode aired Tuesday,
I was there to watch the conclusion of their story. And by
doing so, I thought about the responsibility of reporters
when chasing stories about public figures who happened to
become the news without being prepared.
Yet, I wonder if artists too, when they claim to tell the
“real story” shouldn’t also follow a strict
media ethic. They too, in claiming to tell the real story,
have a duty to provide a fair and balanced account of the
events they are reporting on.
As for the Lavigueurs, we may never know the real story. The
truth is probably somewhere in the middle -- between the depiction
the media, who witnessed the story from the outside, gave
of them and the recounting of Yve Lavigueur, who lived the
story from the inside.
FRANCIS PLOURDE is a graduate student
at the UBC School of Journalism. He works part-time at Radio-Canada
in Vancouver, where he often asks people if they speak French.
The accomplishment he is the most proud of so far is snagging
a phone interview with a French-speaking cab driver in Whitehorse.
His writing has also appeared on The Tyee and in magazines
in Montreal.
