WARNING: This article contains details heard in court that may disturb some readers.
Friends and family of Ashley Schwalm read agonizing, grief-filled victim impact statements in a Barrie courtroom on Monday at the sentencing hearing of her husband, James, who pleaded guilty to killing her.
Schwalm has admitted to a charge of second-degree murder and he will be sentenced to life in prison.
But Superior Court Justice Michelle Fuerst must determine when the Collingwood man, who was a Brampton fire captain when he killed his wife, will be eligible to apply for parole.
Fuerst put the matter over to Feb. 10, 2025, when it's expected she will set the parole eligibility requirement somewhere between 13 and 22 years, based on the ranges of submissions by Crown attorney Lynn Saunders and defence counsel Joelle Klein.
Ashley’s father, Ian Milnes, was the last of 15 oral submissions and spoke about how the family could never have imagined her dying so cruelly after the family had lost her mother, Shelley, to cancer.
“I always assumed I’d be next,” Ian told court, standing tall and speaking proudly of his family of four grown children and eight grandchildren, two of whom are Ashley’s kids.
The “monstrous crime” that took his daughter, was “perpetuated by a smart man,” Milnes told the court, turning to address his former son-in-law.
“He did the opposite of what he was trained to do,” added Milnes, a clear reference to the cruel irony of a firefighter killing his daughter and attempting to cover it up by setting her body ablaze.
Most of the other people who addressed the court spoke about the guilt of not being able to protect Ashley, of mounting therapy bills to cope and of dark days in what one friend called “an endless loop” of anger that has so negatively impacted survivors.
“I’ve lost track of how many people called (Ashley) their best friend,” said Saunders, during her submissions as proof of how deeply loved and respected the murdered woman was by those who knew her.
James Schwalm’s friends now are of an entirely different sort. In contrast to the collection of dignified and respectable folks who spoke so lovingly of his wife, he filed letters of support from seven new friends he has made in prison.
According to Saunders, five of them are serving sentences for sex crimes.
“Not the sort of people you look at for their moral compass,” the Crown told the court.
Schwalm pleaded guilty in June. He had originally been charged with first-degree murder.
The details were replayed in court again on Monday. The now-40-year-old planned the grisly crime for weeks, going so far as to get the victim to buy gasoline that would later be used as an accelerant in setting a fire that burned her body beyond recognition after he set her Mitsubishi Outlander down a steep slope off Arrowhead Road, just outside Collingwood.
The Crown contended in June, and reaffirmed again on Monday, that Schwalm killed his wife to avoid the financial hardship that would come by dividing their marital assets.
The couple was on the verge of separating after 10 years of marriage and both had become involved with other people, although it was unclear how serious either new relationship had become, court heard.
Schwalm feared the cost of a break-up, communicating with a friend that he would have trouble climbing back on the “property ladder” once support payments were put in place.
As a Brampton fire captain, he earned a salary more than $140,000 per year, and there likely would have been a significant equalization payment coming to Ashley, who was working locally as a project manager at a construction company at the time of her murder.
Court heard how Ashley tried to call police when the couple began arguing late on Jan. 25, 2023.
That call was never made, and she was dead by the wee hours of Jan. 26.
“She would have fought like hell for those kids,” her sister, Lindsey, told the court.
Schwalm addressed the court, in a halting, soft voice, where he spoke of his shame at what he had done. He told Fuerst that he “is where I belong.”
But he never clearly apologized or uttered the word “sorry,” nor did he turn to address Ashley’s family or the dozens of other relatives and friends who were sitting in the public gallery.
Schwalm also never made mention of the couple’s two children, instead speaking about getting to a place where he can do “good again” in society.
If the Crown gets its way, that time will be as many as 20 years down the road, factoring in the two years Schwalm will have served by the time Fuerst formally passes sentence in February.
Klein countered with a request of 13 to 14 years before her client can be considered for parole.
Several of Ashley’s family and friends could be seen shaking their heads in disagreement.
Though he dabbed at this face with a tissue a few times during the victim impact statements, Schwalm showed little emotion other than when he spoke. He was well-groomed, wearing a charcoal grey suit and crisp dress shirt with no tie. His hair was neatly brushed, and it had recently been cut. It was only as he turned to leave court just past 3 p.m. that a small tuft of hair on the back of his head could be observed as marginally askew.
