Why are so many federal inmates dying shortly before their release date?

Kendal Lee Campeau spent most of his life in and out of prison. The last time he went in, he never came out.

He was serving a seven-year sentence for assault, escaping lawful custody and possession of illicit substances, among other charges. In 2021, less than two years from his statutory release date, the 31-year-old died of a methadone overdose. 

Campeau died at Pacific Institution’s Regional Treatment Centre (RTC) in B.C., a specialized prison for inmates with mental health issues. Prior to this, he had been transferred from Saskatchewan Penitentiary’s RTC to Kent Institution in Agassiz, B.C. 

“Kendal was a very wild child, he got into a lot of trouble with the law,” Campeau’s sister, Ashley Fontaine, recently told CBC News, while sitting on her plant-filled deck in Garson, Man.  

“All he ever said about his experience in jail is that you never want to go there.”

Campeau had a little more than a year and a half left on his determinate sentence before he would be eligible for release. It’s part of a larger trend of inmates dying with little time left to serve.

A “determinate sentence” means an offender has a fixed date of release, at which point, barring extenuating circumstances, they will be released on parole for the final third of their time. 

An indeterminate — or indefinite — sentence is awarded when the court finds the offender to be a “dangerous offender.” This means the inmate will still be eligible for full parole after seven years, but if it isn’t granted, their time in prison will continue indefinitely.

A package released to CBC in April by the Correctional Service of Canada through a freedom of information request showed the leading cause of death for inmates serving determinate sentences between January 2019 and February 2025 was suicide. Overdoses came a close second.

The data said 45 per cent of inmates who died by suicide on their timed sentence had already served more than three-quarters of it; 39 per cent had served more than half.

Anxiety over release

Of the total number of non-natural deaths — which includes not only suicides and overdoses but homicides and accidents — 72 per cent were inmates serving determinate sentences.

Suicide made up 47 per cent of non-natural deaths for those serving indeterminate sentences.

In other words, inmates with a fixed release date were dying more frequently than those who were inside indefinitely — and close to when they were due to get out.

Four days after CBC received the package of data from the Correctional Service of Canada, CSC sent CBC an email saying it had been sent in error and asked, “If you could please kindly delete the version you received on April 4, it would be most appreciated.” Attached to that email was a second version of the package. 

While the original contained no redactions, the new one was almost entirely redacted. CBC has decided to share the original findings anyway.

Toronto defence lawyer Alison Craig says release dates can act as a catalyst for already extenuating circumstances.

“Your release date comes, the door opens, they say, ‘Goodbye, good luck,’ and you’re out there to fend for yourself with no help, no support, no nothing,” she told CBC News.

The original CSC data showed that 60 per cent of inmates who committed suicide during their timed sentences had been released and subsequently re-incarcerated in less than three months. 

“Many of the people that are sort of on a course of just cycling in and out of custody are people who don’t have homes, they’re unhoused. They don’t have families. They struggle with addiction or mental health issues,” Craig said. 

“They want to be productive members of society. Nobody wants to spend their life going in and out of jail. But they also need help … and they don’t ever have it.”

‘You’re just breaking down’ 

Former inmate Richard Miller says the mental anguish of being incarcerated is often where the pot boils over.

“Emotionally, it’s very … disturbing. Your rights and your dignity is kind of stripped from you. A lot of times, people’s mental health, you know, plays a big part in it,” he said. “You’re just breaking down that you’re not worth anything.” 

Miller was incarcerated on and off at multiple federal facilities in Ontario for aggravated assault and subsequent parole violations between 2012 and 2017. He thinks he was moved around because he was speaking out about treatment from officers. 

He said a lot of time people bottle up the things they’re experiencing because they feel there won’t be repercussions for those who have wronged them on the inside. This creates a mindset of demoralization. 

“A lot of times guys are in there for a long time. They just give up. ‘What am I going out to? I don’t have any family.’ [They] might have been here 26 years. You know, their family and their loved ones are all gone,” Miller said. 

In some instances, the anguish comes from feeling a lack of safety, which was the case with Kendal Lee Campeau.

According to his sister, Campeau had long struggled with mental health and managing his well-being, which was only exacerbated by his experience in prison. 

Fontaine remembers when Campeau first told her he was being abused in prison. She was on her way to Banff, Alta., for work in September 2019. 

“I took a call on my headphones while I was driving, and I was trying not to cry because of the things he was sharing with me over the phone,” she said. 

When she later had a moment to process it, she was overwhelmed. 

“I just curled up into the fetal position. Those kinds of things that you just don’t hear. I knew his mental health was deteriorating.” 

According to Campeau, two correctional officers came to his cell asking him to mop his room. He initially refused, at which point he said the officers urinated in the bucket and proceeded to kick it over. From there, a physical altercation ensued, which Campeau had initiated in retaliation.  

Campeau told his sister the officers then rushed him, restrained him and raped him using the mop handle. He tried to take his own life shortly thereafter. 

In a statement to CBC, Correctional Service Canada said “CSC manages a complex and diverse inmate population which has a direct impact on the safety and security of institutions…. Our staff are trained to handle tough situations safely and professionally, with the goal of avoiding harm to anyone.”

‘I do not trust a person in a uniform’ 

Documents obtained by CBC News show Campeau had at one point gone so far as to file his own freedom of information request trying to obtain proof to corroborate an assault he claimed to have experienced. 

He also filed multiple grievances, writing things like “I am scared and living in fear for my own personal safety, I have self harmed as a result,” and “I wet the bed and pace more than usual. I do not trust a person in a uniform” and “I have attempted to discuss my concerns with the [security intelligence officer] department and several correctional managers.” 

When Campeau died on Nov. 14, 2021, of an overdose, it was his second one of the day. 

In their statement, CSC said, “Inmates are screened for suicide risk when they arrive and throughout their time in custody. Staff who work closely with inmates are trained to respond quickly to self-harming behaviour or to signs of suicide ideation.”

After a death in custody, an investigation is mandatory. The investigation report on Campeau’s death cites 25 compliance issues. Among them is the fact that upon his arrival at Kent Institution, a proper risk assessment for suicide and security was not completed, despite the fact that Campeau had a history of suicidal ideation and “self-injurious behaviour.” 

Evidence in his cell upon his death was also “not preserved and therefore not tested.” The report said the two correctional officers conducting the search “discovered a burned piece of tinfoil with what appeared to be remnants of illicit substances on it. Unfortunately, the suspected contraband was inadvertently disposed of in the toilet.”

Fontaine isn’t sure her brother’s overdose was an accident. 

“I go back and forth with it…. I believe something happened to him, but I don’t know if it happened at the hands of the guards or inmates or both.” 

She says her brother told her at one point that the officers gave him a razor blade and told him to kill himself. Records indicate he was found in the shower with large cuts on his arms and leg around this time. 

“Kendal spent a lot of time locked up. He mentioned to me during phone calls that he just wanted all of it to end.” 

Lack of support

Craig said that one problem is that there aren’t enough effective programs to help inmates transition to parole release.

“They focus on … your risk factors and how to avoid stressors and that sort of thing to avoid coming back,” she said. “But they don’t help you plan the practicality of release: where you’re going to live, who you’re going to live with, how you’re going to earn a living, those sorts of things.” 

Today, Fontaine wishes she could have just one more phone call with her brother. 

“Sometimes I just wish he could call me,” she said. “The only thing I have left is his voicemail…. When I’m struggling sometimes I’ll listen to that voicemail, and it’s not always positive, but there’s some humour in there that makes me laugh.

“It makes me sad that I don’t get to continue making memories with him, that my boys don’t get to have that relationship with their uncle.”