Standing By Him
The extraordinary tale of Marlene and Steven Truscott
A worn paperback lay open on the kitchen table of the Gilles family’s Guelph, Ontario home, one autumn afternoon in 1966. Sixteen-year-old Marlene Gillies couldn't tear her eyes away from the story, her hands trembling slightly as she turned each page of "The Trial of Steven Truscott." Outside, the autumn wind rattled fallen leaves against the window, but Marlene barely noticed.
She was lost in a different world—one where a 14-year-old boy had stood in a courtroom seven years earlier, his future crumbling as a judge sentenced him to hang for a murder he swore he didn't commit. She read the passage again, then again, her throat tightening. The boy in the book was now a young man, still behind bars, while she sat here in her mother's kitchen, free to close the book and walk away.
But she couldn't walk away. Something about Steven's story had wrapped itself around her heart, refusing to let go.
When her mother passed through the kitchen and saw her still sitting there, hours after she'd first picked up the book, she asked, "Everything alright, dear?" Marlene looked up, her eyes bright with a fire that would burn for decades to come. "No," she said quietly. "Everything is not alright. And I think I need to do something about it."
"The Trial of Steven Truscott" was more than just another true crime story to her. This was the moment that would set her life on an entirely new path—though she had no way of knowing that the boy in those pages would one day become her husband, or that she would spend the next forty years fighting to clear his name.
This is a Canadian love story, but it’s not the kind you read about in fairy tales.
It’s about Steven and Marlene Truscott—a couple who faced misfortune from the moment they met. If you ever wondered whether determination can overcome nearly impossible odds, their story offers an answer. It’s a story of wrongful conviction, lost youth, years of quiet effort, and one woman’s decision to stand by the man she believed had been badly wronged.
Steven Truscott was born on January 18, 1945, in Vancouver.
He was part of a military family that moved all over Canada—Vancouver, Winnipeg, Edmonton—until settling on the Royal Canadian Air Force base in Clinton, Ontario. The Truscott home was orderly, and teenage Steven showed no signs of trouble. He loved sports, played with friends, and did well in school. By all accounts, he was a polite, ordinary teen.
But in 1959, when he was just 14, his life changed forever.
That year, Lynne Harper—one of his classmates—was found murdered. Almost overnight, Steven was arrested, put on trial, and then convicted of her rape and murder. The evidence was largely circumstantial. Steven had told police that he’d given Lynne a ride partway home before dropping her off at the intersection of the County Road and Highway 8 before reaching the bridge that crossed the Bayfield River.
Truscott claimed when he reached the bridge, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw Lynne get into a “late model Chevrolet.”
However, police were convinced that Truscott had taken Harper into a wooded area off the County Road known as Lawson’s Bush, where he committed the heinous acts. The entire investigation and trial moved quickly. Because Truscott was the last person believed to have seen Harper and largely due to an autopsy report that concluded Harper died at the precise time consistent with when she was last believed to be with Truscott, Truscott was found guilty.
Despite his young age, Steven was sentenced to death by hanging, making him the youngest person in Canada at the time to face a death sentence.
He spent four months on death row, certain he would be executed, until public outcry prompted the government to commute his sentence to life imprisonment. Still, the damage was done: as a child, Steven began serving a life sentence for a crime he insisted he didn’t commit.
Steven’s teenage years were spent in cells and prison yards instead of classrooms and movie theatres. He was moved between different institutions. During one stretch, he lived at Collins Bay Penitentiary, surrounded by adults who treated him not as a kid but as a killer.
The experience left him constantly frightened and isolated. He struggled with being separated from his family and faced the never-ending weight of having been labelled a murderer.
Meanwhile, in Guelph, a young woman named Marlene Gillies came across Steven’s story in 1966, a full seven years after his conviction.
She had read an excerpt from The Trial of Steven Truscott by Isabel LeBourdais, which questioned whether Steven had been fairly tried. LeBourdais was critical of the speed of the investigation, its narrow focus on Truscott as the perpetrator, and apparent lack of pursuing other possible leads in the case. That book changed Marlene’s life. She felt an overwhelming sense that this was something she was meant to read.
She quickly threw herself into petitions and campaigns that demanded Steven’s release.
At the time, Marlene was a teenager herself—old enough to be outraged but still young enough to be called impulsive by some who heard her talk about the case. When her mother pointed out a newspaper article featuring Steven and the question, “Is he innocent?” Marlene looked at his photograph and felt a deep ache. Soon, she was going door-to-door, asking neighbours to sign petitions to help free a person she had never even met.
Between 1966 and early 1967, the Supreme Court of Canada conducted a review of the case and heard from witnesses and Truscott himself, who had not testified during his original trial. However, they ruled that the original findings were adequate and denied Truscott the chance at an appeal.
But not before doubt had been sewn in the public regarding Truscottt’s guilt. Marlene and several others concerned that there may have been a miscarriage of justice, continued doing everything they could within their power to rally support for Truscott.
Due to public pressure, and after 10 years of being a model prisoner, Steven was assessed and deemed not to be a threat to re-offend and was paroled in late 1969.
The conditions of his release were strict though. He had to check in regularly with his parole officers, required the court’s permission to move, and would never be allowed to leave the country. He first lived in Kingston with his parole officer and then spent some time in Vancouver before quietly arriving in Guelph.
He was living under an assumed name, “Steven Bowers,” to avoid the glare of reporters and curious onlookers.
Sometime soon after he stepped out of prison, Marlene was introduced to him by Isabel LeBourdais. At that point, Marlene had spent years following every detail of Steven’s legal battles. She had tried to write to him in prison, but her letters never reached him because she wasn’t on his approved contact list.
When they finally met, their connection wasn’t romantic right away.
They bonded over a shared conviction that he had been wronged. But as they got to know each other, those feelings evolved. Marlene later called it “an obsession that became a love story.” She came to realize that she admired Steven not simply for being an innocent man but for his gentle nature, quiet dignity, and resilience. He, in turn, saw Marlene as a beacon of hope in a world that had been cruel to him.
Her compassion, selflessness, and tenaciousness, paired with her unwavering belief in his innocence, was captivating.
In 1970, after only a short time together, Steven and Marlene decided to get married. But they knew the news would fuel more media attention, so they married in secret. They started life as newlyweds in Guelph, raising three children under the last name “Bowers.”
It’s hard to imagine the stress this placed on them.
Some neighbours might have suspected who Steven really was. Guelph wasn’t a massive city, and word travels quickly. Even so, most people chose to respect their privacy. Marlene later joked that “probably half of Guelph” knew who they were but decided to keep it quiet.
Despite the secrecy, Steven found steady work as a machinist and millwright.
He was determined to support Marlene and their children, especially given that he had lost so many years in prison. Over time, they moved at least nine times to keep their family safe, never knowing if someone would recognize him and cause problems.
While there was a large public outcry for a perceived miscarriage of justice in Truscott’s case, there were many who still believed that he was guilty.
Lynne Harper’s family, primarily her brother, were very vocal about their belief that the courts got it right when they convicted Truscott. They were sickened to think that Lynne’s killer was now free to move on with his life and spoke openly and publicly about their frustrations.
This, as well as living under a fake name, with the memory of prison always near, took its toll.
Steven had nightmares. He would sometimes wake up in a cold sweat, replaying the worst moments of his trial and that dreadful fear of the hangman’s noose. He avoided large social gatherings and was wary around strangers. Who could blame him?
Meanwhile, Marlene faced her own burdens.
She was juggling motherhood, a household, and a husband tormented by his past. She was the one who held him up on days when he couldn’t face the stigma any longer. Together, they tried to give their children as normal a life as possible.
But Marlene couldn’t stand the thought that Steven would never see his name cleared.
She told him, “I can’t let you go to your grave a convicted murderer,” and she meant it. She spent countless hours in libraries or at home, poring over court transcripts and piecing together documents. She never stopped believing that he was innocent—and that somehow, they would prove it.
By the late 1990s, Steven had learned to keep his head down and avoid any mention of his past. He was settled in Guelph, working, coming home to his kids, and living as quietly as possible. But Marlene was convinced that new evidence or thorough reexamination of old evidence could clear his name.
In 2000, she finally persuaded Steven to step back into the public eye. They cooperated with CBC’s The Fifth Estate for an in-depth look at the flaws in his original trial.
This was no small decision: it could easily have led to more unwanted attention or upset the fragile life they’d built. Still, they both realized that if they wanted a chance at full exoneration, they had to risk it.
The program was a turning point.
It drew attention to questionable eyewitness accounts, suppressed evidence, and shaky timelines that had all played a role in the 1959 conviction. The more people learned about the case, the more questions they had about it. Public sympathy began turning in Steven’s favour.
Marlene’s persistence finally paid off.
In 2004, the Minister of Justice referred Steven’s case to the for a full review. Lawyers from Innocence Canada (formerly AIDWYC) stepped in with fresh forensic analysis, and the court took a deep look at the original evidence. More modern information and techniques showed the autopsy findings of Harper’s time of death to be flawed. It was also revealed that key witness testimony was never shared with Truscott’s defence team.
One witness reported seeing a girl hitchhiking and two other witnesses claimed to have observed a strange vehicle with a man and a girl in it parked on the side of the road in the same vicinity as where Lynne Harper was found.
On August 28, 2007—48 years after Steven was first charged—the Court of Appeal quashed his conviction and declared him acquitted. It was a joyful moment but also a bittersweet one. Steven was now in his 60s, with his own children grown. He couldn’t get back the decade he spent in prison or the 50 years living under a dark cloud. Yet, at least he and Marlene had official recognition that the old verdict was a miscarriage of justice.
In 2008, Steven received $6.5 million in compensation from the Ontario government.
An apology arrived, too, from the province. Money doesn’t heal all wounds, of course. Steven and Marlene released a statement saying, “No amount of money could ever truly compensate Steven for the terror of being sentenced to hang at the age of 14,” and also for “the stigma of living for almost 50 years as a convicted murderer.” It was one more reminder not just of everything they’d fought for, but also of everything they’d lost.
During this time, Marlene received small recognition as well—an acknowledgment that her decades of research, her nights spent poring over dusty files, and her willingness to sacrifice her own peace of mind had led to this conclusion.
People began calling her a real-life hero, comparing her to figures like Erin Brockovich. But Marlene never sought fame; she just wanted her husband’s name cleared.
Steven Truscott’s story is sometimes called one of Canada’s worst wrongful convictions. That notion is grounded in the fact that he was a 14-year-old who narrowly escaped the gallows, and then spent decades buried under a life sentence and public suspicion.
Yet, when you look at photos of Steven and Marlene, you don’t just see a man who was once wrongly accused. You see a couple who stood together against unimaginable stress. She believed in his innocence from day one. He relied on her when he wasn’t sure he had the energy to keep going.
They raised three children in a world that knew their father as a convicted killer until those court rulings were overturned. Each of those kids eventually learned the family secret in their own way, and all of them grew up seeing what perseverance really looks like.
Some love stories revolve around candlelit dinners and grand romantic gestures. Steven and Marlene’s love story revolved around unwavering trust and the will to keep going, year after year. While you and I might not know the weight of a wrongful conviction, we can all understand how hope and loyalty can carry people through dark chapters in life.
Steven often said he wasn’t bitter.
“You can’t live day after day being bitter,” he told interviewers. He was just thankful that he had someone like Marlene, a partner who showed him a future he thought he’d never see again. Their life wasn’t all calm and quiet—relocations, changed names, nightmares, legal battles—but it was a life they faced together.
If you look for a couple that shows us the power of devotion in Canada’s history, you’ll find plenty.
But the story of Steven and Marlene stands out because it reminds us that love can fuel us even when we’re up against a system that seems impossible to beat. Sometimes, it takes just one person’s unwavering belief to free someone from years of sorrow. That person, in this case, was Marlene.
And that’s how I’d like to leave you—with a sense that love isn’t only about shared laughter and companionship, but also about standing beside someone through the darkest storms.
Their Canadian love story changed the path of our justice system and continues to inspire people across the country.
What Do You Think About Steven and Marlene’s Story?
Steven Truscott’s case was a big deal but did you know that his wife Marlene was so involved in the efforts to proclaim his innocence?
You often hear of people who become attracted to or enamoured with people while they are in jail and that sometimes relationships are made, some of which go on to be pretty significant. What do you think it is that attracts people romantically to people they are trying to help and believe have been wronged at the hands of the justice system?
Many people now think that Lynne Harper’s rape and murder will never be solved, and some think that it already was solved back in 1959. What do you think? I hope for her family’s sake that they are able to one day see justice. In writing this story about Steven and Marlene’s story, I do not want to take any of the focus off the tragedy of Lynne Harper’s death and the nightmare that her family has endured for the last 65 years.
Take a sec. to type a comment and share your thoughts and stories. As always, I look forward to reading them all!
Thanks a bunch for reading this story. It’s a pleasure to share Canadian stories like this with you.
Have a rad rest of your day!
Sources used to research this story
https://www.wrongfulconvictions.ca/cases/steven-truscott
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/steven-truscott-to-get-6-5m-for-wrongful-conviction-1.742381
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Truscott
https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/steven-truscott-case
http://netk.net.au/Truscott/Truscott.pdf
https://www.innocencecanada.com/the-latest/exoneration/steven-truscott/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Truscott
https://www.cbc.ca/news2/background/truscott/
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/victim-s-family-stunned-by-truscott-compensation-1.747261
https://www.cbc.ca/news2/background/truscott/timeline.html
https://www.wrongfulconvictions.ca/cases/steven-truscott
https://toronto.citynews.ca/2007/08/28/lynne-harper-murder-likely-never-to-be-solved/ https://toronto.citynews.ca/2007/01/30/steven-truscott-case-timeline-2/
https://torontosun.com/news/braun-new-film-details-the-battle-to-acquit-steven-truscott
https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/rp-pr/cj-jp/ccr-rc/sec690-art690/exec.html
https://www.canlii.org/t/1xcxq
https://ojen.ca/en/download/timeline-of-events-for-the-steven-truscott-case/
Remember his story, and Marlene's persistence to making the Judicial system take a deep dive into all the details. She's a hero, and Steve's a strong survivor of that miscarriage of justice. Whew... The stress both dealt with - extraordinary.