Robert “Stretcher” Kribs, the man who terrorized a city and stole a childhood, remains behind bars. After nearly five decades, his bid for even a single day of escorted freedom was denied, a stark acknowledgement of the enduring danger he represents.
The year was 1978. Twelve-year-old Emanuel Jaques, newly arrived in Toronto with his family, vanished. The search quickly focused on the grim underbelly of Yonge Street, a notorious stretch then known as the “Sin Strip.” What investigators uncovered was a horror beyond imagining.
Kribs and his accomplice, Saul Betesh, lured Emanuel to a squalid room above a body rub parlour. There, the boy endured hours of unspeakable sexual torture before being drowned, his small body concealed in a bag on the roof. The crime shattered the city and left an unfillable void in the Jaques family.
Now an aged man, Kribs is a shadow of his former self. His six-foot-five frame is stooped, his hearing failing, and he relies on a walker after suffering two strokes. Yet, the darkness within seems undiminished. He claims to be 86, though official records state he is 79.
During a recent parole hearing, Kribs expressed no expectation of full release, only a desire for a day pass to explore programming at another institution. His narrative, however, was fragmented, drifting between justifications and admissions. An eagle feather lay on the table as he spoke of his past.
Kribs recounted a brutal childhood spent in a Manitoba residential school, a place he likened to a concentration camp, where he was told he was “a nothing person from a nothing people.” He spoke of escaping and being forced into desperate acts of survival on the streets.
But a board member challenged the connection between a horrific upbringing and the monstrous act he committed. “Many people have horrific childhoods and don’t go on to rape and murder a young boy,” she stated, her voice unwavering. Kribs’ composure immediately fractured.
He has consistently maintained he only held Emanuel’s legs while Betesh drowned him. Yet, Betesh, recently granted a temporary absence, directly contradicted this claim, asserting Kribs forced the boy’s head underwater. The board pressed Kribs on this point.
“You killed the boy,” the board member accused. “No, I didn’t kill the boy,” Kribs retorted, his voice rising in defiance. “I denied ever since I came to jail, I denied it in court. I had sex with him but I would not kill.” He acknowledged learning, through years of therapy, that forced sex is unacceptable.
When questioned about possessing photos of young males in 2018, Kribs claimed to have his urges under control, even after discontinuing medication. He even offered a chillingly detached observation, suggesting his crime led to the cleanup of Yonge Street.
Pressed to consider the impact on his victims, Kribs struggled to articulate any understanding of their suffering. “Oh, I couldn’t tell you,” he admitted. “I really have a hard time feeling or even understanding what other people do.”
In a rare moment of startling honesty, Kribs offered a damning self-assessment. “If I was one of you, I wouldn’t trust me at all,” he said. “I deserve everything I got. I deserve to be in prison. I deserve to be dead.”
The parole board, after deliberation, concluded the risk of releasing him, even for a single day, was “undue.” Kribs, seemingly resigned, simply shrugged. “I personally didn’t think I was going to get it. I don’t care really. I’m not going to give up,” he vowed. “I’m going to apply again in six months.”
