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The next development in the Michael White saga was Liana's funeral.

That happened on Wednesday afternoon (July 27th, 2005) at the Connelly-McKinley Funeral Home on 114th Street, just south of Jasper Avenue.

I walked into the funeral home with Ajay Bhardwaj, a great guy and a top-notch crime reporter who was then with the Edmonton Sun.

As Ajay and I entered the hushed chapel we were met by an usher who handed us memorial cards.

I turned back and grabbed a second card.

The room was packed. Ajay and I sat together, near the back.

The speakers chose their words carefully, as often happens at funerals of homicide victims.

A number of hymns were sung.

To my right sat an older gent who asked, in a thick Irish accent, why I wasn't singing. I explained I was a reporter and I was covering the funeral.

The old fellow sang at the top of his voice.

He later leaned toward me and whispered that he didn't personally know Liana, but felt terrible about what happened to her.

Ajay and I made notes about what we heard and saw.

At the front of the room was Liana's closed, wooden coffin. To the left of the casket was a large, beautiful picture of Liana, the one where she has a crooked smile.

To the right, were flowers and a podium where people stood and talked about Liana.

Mourners sobbed throughout the service.

Many were Liana's co-workers. I later learned they collected about a thousand dollars to help pay for Liana's funeral.

When the service ended, I made my way to the front of the room.

So did the old Irish guy. He walked right up to Liana's coffin and in a very soft voice said, "God bless your soul."

Liana White's coffin was then wheeled out a side door and slowly slid into the back of a shiny hearse.

The hospital unit clerk with the crooked smile was on her way to the Holy Cross Cemetery in St. Albert.

I didn't go to her burial.

I stayed back, in the parking lot, to record some interviews. One was with the Irish fellow who sang at the top of his voice.

The parking lot was ringed with TV news cameras and newspaper photographers, all trying to get shots of mourners. It wasn't hard; a great number of people were hugging each another and crying.

At the courthouse the next morning, I slipped my business card and Liana's memorial card into an envelope I got from a clerk in the building's second-floor library.

I addressed the envelope to "Inmate Michael White" and dropped it into a mailbox on the main floor of the Remand Centre.

I returned to the courthouse and went down for a coffee in the cafeteria. There half-dozen media folk were having juice, coffee or hot chocolate and talking about whatever.

I nodded "Hello" and walked upstairs to the 630 CHED bureau to begin another day of chasing court cases and filing stories.

I wondered if Michael White would ever call.

White would soon have my business card which had my work, cell and home phone numbers. That's right: my home number was on my business card – I've always insisted on that.

I'd also given Michael White a photo of Liana. My thinking was that the accused-killer might not be as privileged as the police plant and have photos of his wife.

In a day or so, White phoned to say thanks for the picture of Liana. He said it was the only one he had and went on to say it was up in his cell.

White mentioned he heard one of my radio reports on his wife's funeral and asked if I noticed his daughter Ashley there. I told him I saw no children at the service.

White phoned several times after that. I recorded one of his calls as a formal interview, convincing him it was good to get on tape 'his side of the story.'

I also explained to White that it was also good to have his voice recorded in case he was murdered.

"Murdered?" he asked.

I said yeah, that happens from time to time.

With Michael White's okay, we later broadcast a portion of that interview. But before the clips went to air, 630 CHED News Director Bob Layton checked with me to make sure I had White's permission. That was good journalism.

Michael White's voice hit the airwaves. He continued to profess his innocence.

Again, no one but CHED and its three sister stations had the voice of an imprisoned Michael White.

A sheepish-sounding White then called to say the broadcast on CHED led to another tongue-lashing from his lawyer – who by now must have been chain-smoking cigars.

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deadmonton - michael white - the untold story - 4