
'We are just at a loss': Family searches for answers a year after son's disappearance at Quebec ski resort
CBC
Almost once a month for almost a year, Kathleen Toman has left her home in Balsam Lake, Ont., for Mont-Tremblant, Que. This weekend, she’ll make the 500-kilometre trip again, meeting her ex-husband, Chris Toman, there.
Together, they’ll try again to find anyone or anything that could help locate their son, Liam.
“Anything that would've happened might be a small clue,” Kathleen said in an interview. A selfie, an awkward encounter, a bit of small talk — no detail is too small.
“Every time I do go back, however, I find out a little bit more information about something. Every single time.”
And yet, so far, nothing explains how her son, Liam Gabriel Toman, vanished from the ski resort in the early hours of Feb. 2, 2025.
On Friday, Jan. 31, 2025, Liam, 22, and two friends, Kyle Lemmings and Colin Warnock, hit the road for a long-anticipated ski weekend. As they rounded the last bend before Tremblant, the five-hour drive from Whitby, Ont., paid off.
“It just opens up, and then there's the hill with all the cabins on the side of it, and then the mountain just goes up,” Lemmings told Radio-Canada’s Enquête. “It's a pretty big eye shock for us because we don't see something like that very often.”
They checked into their hotel, the Tour des Voyageurs II, and eased into their holiday.
Saturday unfolded as planned — a day on the slopes, a pizza dinner and a few drinks at a bar called Lucille’s. By then, it was freezing out, around –25 C. Just after 11 p.m., Lemmings retreated to the warmth of the room, leaving the other two to join clubgoers at Le P’tit Caribou.
“We had a couple of more drinks and then kind of split up inside,” Warnock told Enquête. Shortly after 2 a.m., as the club began to empty, Warnock texted Liam. When he didn’t hear back, he called it a night.
Liam didn’t return to the room that night. His friends assumed he’d crashed elsewhere, but still concerned, they pinged him again and took to the hill Sunday morning.
“I called once every hour,” said Warnock. “And then after a couple hours, I was calling him twice an hour. And I started calling him three times an hour, and 20 calls later, we're, like: ‘OK, maybe … something is up, for sure.’”
By day’s end, they raised the alarm, contacting Liam’s family and the authorities.
Liam’s father, Chris Toman, remembers getting the call just before 6 p.m.













