LEGALISED CHILD ABUSE AT SCHOOLS IN THE CANBERRA DISTRICT DURING THE 20TH CENTURY.

LEGALISED CHILD ABUSE AT SCHOOLS IN THE CANBERRA DISTRICT DURING THE 20TH CENTURY.

   Matters relating to very serious child abuse that occurred during the 20^th century have been brought to the public's attention during the last 20 years and are well-documented. I refer to the theft of Aboriginal kids, sexual abuse of kids in institutions and the abuse and virtual slavery of Pommie orphans who were placed in Australian institutions after WW2.
  It is because corporal punishment in schools during the 20th Century was mainstream, of a less immoral nature than child theft or sexual abuse and usually carried out with the permission of parents, the matter has been virtually ignored and is not at all well-documented. With this in mind the purpose of this particular yarn/rant is to record incidences of legalised child abuse in schools in the Canberra district during the 20th century which involved humiliating kids or perpetrating acts of physical violence upon them.
   It of course occurred throughout Australia during this period, but as this blog is Canberra and districts-centric I am confining the documentation to Canberra and surrounding districts. 


   Corporal punishment was a part of the culture at the time, and this was probably because of the biblical notion of sparing the rod and spoiling the child, although such ideology based on Christian dogma obviously spread into secular society.    
  I can recall while attending Maclean Public school in 2nd class (Year 2) seeing one particular lad whacked because he was writing with his left hand. Apparently there is some primitive association in Christianity between left handedness and Satan.
   In documenting abuse in Canberra and district schools I will start with the public school system. I will begin by recounting what my mum told me about the violence she witnessed while she attended a public school in Queanbeyan in the 1930’s, during the Depression.
   She recalled to me how during that period she saw poverty-stricken kids come to school in the winter with bare feet. Some kids had burst eardrums from untreated infections and others suffered rickets, goiter and other diseases caused by poor nutrition. 
   She also told me of one particular lad who came from a very poor family who was a bit slow, and at the age of around 7 or 8 he was regularly beaten over the knuckles for not being able to answer questions which were obviously far too difficult for him to answer. He would stand there sobbing, and of course my mum and other more sensitive kids suffered vicariously. She also told me of one little girl who was made to stand up inside a chimney and how the teacher beat her because she got soot on her dress.
   In regard to my own experiences, when I first came to Canberra in 1961 I was 8, turning 9 and in 3^rd class (Year 3) attending North Ainslie Primary. Not long after I arrived I received a hard caning (2 cuts) on the hand from a male teacher who held a senior position and I almost passed out from the pain and trauma.
   During my 4 years at North Ainslie I saw and experienced much in the way of physical and verbal violence towards kids. When in year 4 my mates and I were whacked regularly on the arse, usually 3 or 4 times, with a large blackboard ruler. It was very painful and left bruises. I suspect the perpetrator got a sexual thrill from it.
    The worst form of humiliation at North Ainslie I witnessed was that of a mate who, like me, had no interest in school. When he didn't know what a verb was he was asked to stand up for an extended period. Several kids from years below us were asked to come into the classroom and tell our class what a verb was in order to humiliate him by demonstrating how far behind he was in his work. I think he was caned after the humiliation but I am unsure. 
   Violence seemed completely acceptable in those times, or at least not taken too seriously. I can recall when I was in 4th class seeing a fight between a large kid in 6th class and a smaller kid about the same age, where the smaller kid was knocked unconscious. He was dragged away to the sick room by a teacher. Apparently the perpetrator received a couple of cuts of the cane, which would have been no more than what he would have received had he have been sent out of class for talking. Today such an offence would have been taken much more seriously. 
   I was contacted by a person who attended North Ainslie primary several years after me who had the following to say regarding physical abuse by way of the regular caning of a lad who may have turned out to be gay. If so it would have been the equivalent of caning a little girl. I have copied and pasted that person’s words below.
  "When I was a student at North Ainslie Primary School in the late 1960's the boys were often caned and the girls received a ruler to the back of the legs, as was the norm in all schools at that time. This however was just the physical punishment received by those who had allegedly erred. Psychologically the ripple effect was also at play. What still stays with me today is hearing the sickening pleas and cries from a boy in the classroom next door to mine when in Year 4 or 5. He would cry and plead "Please Sir, please don't hit me" and when I would eventually hear the inevitable thwack from the cane hitting his hands, he'd scream at the top of his voice with every stroke. Inside our classroom, and possibly inside the others along the corridor within earshot of the caning, we would all be absolutely silent and our heads would be bowed down at our books trying not to listen. I remember feeling like I was going to be sick. I can still hear the terrified cries today and remember how it affected me at the time. I can't imagine the effect it must have had on him." 
       Another person who contacted me regarding North Ainslie Primary was 3 years ahead of me. He told me of a bloke who came to the school on several occasions to give students IQ tests, which would have eventually guided the high schools in regard to which classes kids should have been placed in.
   When he mentioned the IQ tester's name I could recall the man, and my memory of him produces in me visions of a bloke I thought at the time was angry, violent and bullying. According to the bloke who contacted me, just before his class was about to sit for one of their final IQ tests the apparent sadistic bully gave a lad a hard slap across the face. If this did occur, with the shock of it all I can only imagine how poorly the boy performed in his test on that day and how his poor performance would have affected how he was placed when he reached high school. 
   When I went on to Dickson High in 1965 the caning culture continued along with other forms of physical and psychological abuse. One particular male teacher at Dickson High who was there in 1965 was an absolute psycho. I won't name him, but any student who was at Dickson High at the time will know exactly who he is. 
   I was in 1st form (Year 7) and aged 12 turning 13 that year, when he walked past our classroom. We were making a noise as our teacher had to step out, so when he saw my mate, Jan Aamodt, and me turned around and talking to the kids behind us he walked over to us and slapped us both across the face. Jan got one hard slap but I got 2 and felt some concussion at the time. I was very frustrated by the fact that I did not have the physical capacity to give him a hiding. I was told however, he received a couple of hidings from older kids at various times during his teaching career. What a piece of shit! I really hope he's dead. 
    A year later I was picked up and thrown by a very powerful teacher, and a year after that he caned Slob Kirby and me. I once received 6 on each hand from another teacher but there was no comparison between the 12 I received on that occasion and the 4 we each received on the occasion I am referring to. I don't know how it didn't break the bones in our hands! We each had bruising and blood blisters running the entire width of our hands from each stroke we received and the pain after the event was intense.
   The male teachers were by no means the only perpetrators of violence and therefore not the only ones who should be vilified for acts of child abuse. Most female teachers were more  than willing to send kids to male teachers knowing full well it would result in the kids being caned, which meant they may as well have been doing it themselves. It's no different than a person paying a hitman to murder someone and then somehow trying to claim he is less immoral than the hitman.  
    I can also remember a female teacher we had ordering the late Bluey Cowan to put a small rubbish bin on his head. He quite rightly refused, so she threatened to send him to the headmaster to be caned. He then told her that if she sent him to the headmaster he would get his father involved. So realising the repercussions of the situation she backed down, but when doing so she called him a weak person for resorting to the use of his father. 
   Even at that age I could see the large flaw in her argument. She was happy to bully him when she thought she had the weight of the Australian government backing her up but she thought Bluey weak for threatening to use his father to challenge the system. What a sack of shit she was!   
    In regard to Catholic schools, there was also obviously abuse, although I never went to one. I have however, debated over the years with some of my mates who went to Daramalan College as to whether the teachers at Dickson High were more brutal and abusive than those who taught at Daramalan. 
   As far at the secular vs religious schools brutality debate goes, from what my mate who bordered at Yanco Agricultural College told me it would seem that the secular schools were far more brutal, at least as far as boarding schools were concerned. Having said that, I do not know anyone my age who went to a Protestant or Catholic boarding school. When my mate and I started the equivalent of Year 7 in 1965, (he went to Yanco and I went to Dickson High) the most senior year was Year 11 (or 5th form). My mate tells me that at Yanco during that period their prefects, who would have been kids who were 16 turning 17, were given the authority to cane kids who they thought were misbehaving after school hours. Apparently they did not hesitate. My mate needs to write something about his experiences at Yanco Agricultural College. I will not say anymore in this post about the place because this site is Canberra and districts centric. If anyone who went to Yanco Ag College during that time thinks I have it wrong let me know and I will publish your comments.
   I was also told by a mate who went to Marist College here in Canberra many years after I had left school that Marist kept a large, thick strap, and many parents signed a note giving permission for it to be used on their kids. The older teachers at Marist also apparently continued to use the cane for some time. 
   I received the following from a mate who attended St Pat's in Braddon in the fifties.
   I started primary school at St Pat's School in Braddon in 1957. A few years later they changed the name to "Our Lady of Mercy" but a more appropriate name could have been "Our Lady of No Mercy." I remember a nun who taught me in second class who was prone to violent outbursts. She must have had training in martial arts as she did not use weapons to discipline children and instead used her hands and fists. She would grasp the child by the hair from behind, reef the head back and simultaneously punch them in the back. I can't remember it happening to me most likely because I was careful to avoid doing anything to warrant such treatment.

   Let's however, go back in time to when Benedict House in Queanbeyan, which is now a cafe, restaurant and craft shop, was running as St Benedict's Convent. If the following information supplied to me by a person who recently visited the place is correct it would seem the abuse at St Benedict's was rife until its closure.

     "Last month I had lunch at the cafe at Benedict House. As I was interested in the story of the old building I asked one of the women working there about its history. She explained the rooms downstairs were once classrooms and the nuns and the female students slept upstairs. She said that many nuns and ex students had visited in recent years and their memories have been written down and a book has been produced. She said there seemed to be too much of an emphasis in the book on the punishments the nuns gave the girls rather than an emphasis made of the positive happenings at that time. Therefore they weren't making the book available for sale to the public." 
  Footnote on the above- If anyone would like to contact me disputing the information I was given regarding the said book about St Benedicts being withdrawn from sale for the reasons stated please do so. 
   The Australian historians who, through self-censorship during the 20th century, decided to distort our history by not telling students about Aboriginal massacres and the abuse of Aboriginal children, are now despised for revisionism by way of ommission. If the previously mentioned book that records memories of Benedict House is not being made available to the public because of a desire to censor history those responsible should also be condemned.
   In regard to further comment about abuse in Catholic Schools, I can recall many years ago being told by a girl several years older than me who had attended Catholic Girls' High in or around 1960, (It is now called Merici College), about a nun allegedly hitting a little puppy which was running around the playground on the head with a heavy stick, causing its death. I worked with a temporary worker about 10 years ago who had attended the school during that period and when I asked her about it she told me she had witnessed the event and that what I had been told was accurate. She also told me she cried her eyes out for the rest of the day and all that night and that it caused her a lot of trauma.
  If anyone would like to dispute the event regarding the puppy occurring please contact me. 
   This post will be an ongoing project with stories of abuse I receive added on as I receive them. If anyone would like to contact me giving details of abuse they have suffered or witnessed in schools in the ACT or surrounding districts during the 20th Century please do so by email by clicking on the contact button above. Your name does not need to be published and the teacher/s responsible for the abuse will not be named. 
Dave Wheeler
UPDATE 12/2/16
I received yesterday the following email. For legal reasons I am not publishing the name of the author of the email or the teacher he is referring to. 

Hi Dave,
I read your piece on corporal punishment and violent Canberra teachers. I wonder if you have any information on a teacher called Mr----------- who was at Campbell Primary school around 1969 and the early 1970's. He was a true sadist and psychopath. He was obsessed with building canes in the craft/woodwork room and loved caning children. He provided his caning service for all the school with such a passion and urgency. He actually whimpered audibly with excitement when he did it.
Aside from caning he could be very violent physically and I was one of many kids that was violently assaulted by him. Today he would be jailed for a fraction of what he did to children.
Regards,
-----------
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DICKSON HIGH KIDS LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS IN 1975

DICKSON HIGH KIDS LOST IN THE 

MOUNTAINS IN 1975

By Louise Lyon

   It was March 1975, a time before personal computers or mobile phones. I was in Sixth Form, or Year 12, at Dickson High School, now called Dickson College and we were all going on a school excursion to Guthega for 5 days.
   Our year filled one large bus and a mini bus which travelled together in convoy. During the entire trip those of us on the large bus enjoyed ridiculing those friends on the mini bus and they ridiculed us in return. Their bus resembled the small buses that were used by Koomarri, which was a place for the mentally and physically challenged at that time. Chants of “Koomarri, Koomarri” continued and served to annoy those on the mini bus. So the trip began, two buses full of young people oozing with excitement and high spirits. On arrival at Guthega we were soon organised into our chalets which were roomy with large central lounge areas and real fires crackling in the hearths. It was late summer, so there was no snow, it was a time to enjoy this new environment and study it.

   Our first work was an organised walking expedition which was meant to take about half the day. The  plan was to travel by buses to Thredbo, then catch the chair lift up to the mountain range behind Thredbo, and go on a half day walk. We had at least 4 teachers with us and we all looked forward to the experience. The day was fine and sunny so wearing wet weather gear we thought was unnecessary.

   Soon after alighting from the chair-lift and walking for half an hour or so, the weather changed dramatically. We seemed to be engulfed by a misty fog, the temperature dropped, the wind came up and it began to drizzle and sleet. We thought the teachers knew the way, so we all confidently followed along behind only to become increasingly wet, cold and miserable. There was no actual path to follow, perhaps if there was the meadow grass had covered it over spring and summer. Due to poor visibility we were glad the teachers brought a compass to follow. One of the students at the front of the group held the compass, none of us realising until too late that his large wristwatch interfered with the magnetic field of the compass, sending us in completely the wrong direction.

The above photo is of us at a stage where we had the feeling we were lost but were not quite sure.

   Our clothes were not waterproof and it didn’t take long for us to realise things were going wrong. We were told to stop at intervals while the teachers seemed to confer with each other in worried whispers with much hand pointing. One teacher walked up onto a rocky outcrop to view our surroundings which proved futile with the fog shrouding us. The wind and sleet were coming at us sideways. Like penguins we clustered for warmth in groups of three and four linking arms to trudge on. A few students were showing worrying signs, one complained of severe cramps and others were slowing and lagging behind. One of the girls had recently recovered from anorexia, and still being under weight, we were very concerned for her as she was really feeling the cold and leaning on her friends for support.

   The teachers called a halt when we noticed we had gone in a complete circle. We followed the teachers down into a natural valley or hollow where the wind wasn’t as strong, then they asked us to gather around closely. The senior teacher announced “We are lost” which was no news to us. He then suggested as it was now almost dusk, that we should try and sleep the night where we were standing, in the slightly sheltered hollow. We had no camping equipment, no food, in fact nothing except the wet clothes we were standing in. None of us moved, while contemplating his words. Another teacher seemed to have a discussion with the head teacher after which he announced we would make one last attempt to find our way. Two students, Peter Tuckerman and Peter Colquhoun and two teachers were to walk in four separate directions but they were not to walk further than their line of sight to us. They were asked to look for landmarks I presume. 

This photo shows us when we were cold and miserable and waiting for the look-outs to find a way of ensuring we did not perish.

   Unbelievably one of the four look-outs came across a lone hiker. The hiker came over to us and spoke to the head teacher instructing us to walk in a certain direction for another mile or so along a narrow track, then we should see a line of snow poles and a blue metal road which we should follow to Seaman’s Hut which would give us shelter.

   By this stage my lower back was cramping from the cold, I couldn’t feel my hands or feet, my ears were burning, icy water dripped from my hair and squelched from my shoes. It was foggy and grey, wet, windy, cold and miserable. We continued slowly on, and finally reached Seaman’s Hut, a two roomed hut made to shelter walkers at times like this.

   I found out later that the hut was built in 1929 with finance from the parents of Laurie Seaman who died in a blizzard in 1928 close to the hut’s location. Laurie’s mate also died in the blizzard. I’m sure the Seaman family took some solace knowing the hut would save the lives of many over the years. The hut is fairly close to the summit of Mt Kosciusko.

   We all stood shoulder to shoulder crowded tightly together in the little stone hut, while one or two suffering early signs of hypothermia were attended to in the other small room and placed in the beds there. One of my best friends kept having to rush outside to vomit, another sure sign of exposure. Soon the warmth from our bodies coupled with our wet clothing caused a new mist to rise all around us in the hut. It was so foggy in there that it was difficult to see the person beside you.

   There was no form of communication in the hut that we could use to call for help and by now it was dark. Two students, Peter Colquhoun and Peter Tuckerman and a teacher volunteered to walk down the road in front of the hut which was then called Summit Road, now it is Summit Walk. They walked perhaps for a few miles, to Charlotte’s Pass to the hotel to alert the authorities and get help. They were our heroes that day as they did exactly that. Rangers in two Landrovers arrived with their headlights beaming and shuttled us back and forth to Guthega, beginning with those most affected by the cold. Two students were admitted to hospital overnight. 
   I remember we were met at our chalet by Mrs Clarke, the home science teacher, who handed each of us on arrival a steaming mug of minestrone soup. That soup is the most delicious soup I have ever tasted to this day. Others I have spoken to since, agree.

   Needless to say due to this experience occurring in the first day or two of the planned excursion week, very little was asked of us for the remainder of the week. In fact we had absolutely no work given to us and we made it clear we were not willing to do any as a group. We partied every night and the boys even stole the male teachers’ beer from their room but remembered to leave a thank you note and money. There were no repercussions.
   I clearly remember waiting in the sun on the last day for the buses to collect us to take us back to Canberra.  Standing near me were all my friends, including Sharon Selley, who was very attractive and curvaceous. As we chatted in groups, one of the teachers began to hold up the lost property. The last item held up was a very small cupped, tiny lacy bra. The teacher held it over his own chest and exclaimed “Who owns this? ... There’s one thing I can say for sure, it sure isn’t Sharon Selley’s!” There was much laughter sealing the end of a never to be forgotten school excursion.
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CANBERRA BOUNCERS, CANBERRA COPPERS AND AN INCIDENT AT THE KINGO ON CHRISTMAS EVE OF 2011

   CANBERRA BOUNCERS, CANBERRA COPPERS AND AN INCIDENT AT THE KINGO ON CHRISTMAS EVE OF 2011
by Dave Wheeler

   

   To begin this yarn/rant I will remind readers that it was not so long ago there were strict physical restrictions, primarily in regard to height and weight, when it came to recruiting members of the Australian Federal Police force. 

   The restrictions were based on the assumption that police had to use their bodies at times to apprehend criminals and perform other physical work, and that those who did not have certain physical attributes may have been unable to perform their tasks as well as those who did. 

   The intent of the restrictions had to a degree a rational basis, even though some of the restrictions they had are not necessary. Even now technology has not been able to fully compensate for the human body/s and handcuffs when it comes to finding a way of controlling violent members of the public without risking the health or the lives of such offenders. 

    To elaborate, physically weak coppers without grappling skills using guns, tasers and chemical sprays may be able to overpower violent persons, but in doing so they are at times not only risking inflicting on the offenders permanent physical damage or death; they are putting themselves at risk of losing their jobs or even being locked up should a court decide they have gone overboard in the use of such weaponry or its use was not necessary.

   Maybe one day scientists will come up with a gadget which will render violent people harmless without their long term health or lives being put at risk, but I would not hold my breath waiting for it. Such technology is a long, long way off, and there is a good chance there will be a genuine cure for baldness and cancer by the time it arrives. 

   Until that time as a taxpayer I am conscious of the fact that I would get better value for my money if police management hired more coppers with physical and psychological abilities (or very good grappling skills. They don't have to be enormous.) which ensured they rarely needed weapons to subdue violent but unarmed members of the public. Surely two or more non-snag and reasonably strong coppers with handcuffs and some relevant training should be sufficient in most cases?

    Having said what I have said about dropped physical standards when it comes to recruitment of police, I readily admit that some of the former physical restrictions were not at all rationally-based. I know of many highly successful physically powerful mixed martial artists/grapplers who would have been ruled out as being too short or light to have made any Australian police force in earlier times, but would nonetheless be a real asset in any police force when it comes to subduing violent persons. And does it really matter if someone does not have perfect vision? The ex world bantamweight boxing champion, Johnny Famechon, had pronounced short-sightedness at the time he won his world crown, and for that reason he would have been rejected at the time had he applied to be a copper anywhere in Australia. 
    Unfortunately politicians and high-ranking coppers threw the baby out with the bathwater by overreacting when it came to easing physical standards for police recruits. Many of the coppers I see nowadays are appalling physical specimens who could not knock shit of a shovel. When I drove past one recently who was booking a motorist I thought it was a bull-lesbian trying to look masculine, but on closer examination I could (just) make out it was a bloke, of a sort.

   Don't get me wrong; I am not saying all AFP members are physically weak and cowardly, as there are a significant number of AFP members who are very tough, both physically and psychologically. I am saying there should be no piss-weak coppers working within the AFP irrespective of size unless their tasks are purely clerical, but that is plainly not the case. 

   If you click on the appropriate box above and download "Tales of a Canberra Boy" you will be able to read some of the adventures of the legendary Jack Dealy, an ex Canberra copper and wrestler. He was of the opinion that if he had to use weapons against someone who was not armed he should not have been a copper. 
   If I make it to my nineties and become crippled with arthritis, should I be knocked off my mobility scooter and sexually assaulted by seven Albanian tourists wearing Bermuda shorts and socks I don't want some piss-weak snag of a copper with a university degree and no martial skills coming to my aid. I would rather see my taxes spent hiring tough knockabout coppers, even if they only have basic literacy, common sense, a good sense of empathy and good self-control.

   I don't want to see my argument misconstrued. When I was a teenager in the sixties it was not uncommon for coppers to get away with bashing people, and I am in no way wanting a return to that situation or in our having more of a police  state. I find the powers police currently have under anti-terrorist legislation an obscenity. 
 

  I am saying we want the best sorts of coppers possible for the job, and that does not necessarily mean discriminating in favour of prospective recruits with university degrees at the expense of more suitable people who do not have university degrees. 

   Unfortunately since the physical standards were virtually removed many coppers they hire nowadays do not even have the psychological capacity to deal with violent unarmed people without resorting to the use of weapons. I am not making a meaningless statement; there are many instances on the public record in Canberra and elsewhere of scared coppers panicking, and as a result using sprays, guns or tasers on violent persons who could have been overpowered by the use of the human body and handcuffs had the right sorts of coppers been present at the time.  

    This brings me to the matter of how bouncers and private security companies are being relied on a great deal more nowadays than they previously were because governments are too tight and stupid to recruit more coppers of the right sort. Also, politicians have been sucked into the privatisation ideology which has been extended to the keeping of law and order, which brings me onto the question of how bouncers and coppers interact.

  I have been told many stories by bouncers, particularly those who work in the Civic area, of the ineptitude of many physically and psychologically weak AFP members when it comes to dealing with violent patrons. Many they say metaphorically (or literally) shit themselves when confronted with physical violence. They cannot deal with it on either a physical or a psychological level. They are reluctant to use their weapons for obvious reasons and are more than happy to let bouncers deal with violent patrons inside and out the front of nightclubs.

    

   I was told recently by two persons of a brawl they said they witnessed at the Kingston Hotel on Christmas Eve of 20011 which involved certain alleged actions by an Australian Federal Police member. I believe what they told me was true because I know the witnesses well and consider them highly credible people. The incident was also corroborated on hearsay by a young copper I know who was aware of the incident but not present at the time. 

    What in a nutshell allegedly occurred was that after a brawl had been well-contained by bouncers an AFP member panicked and unnecessarily sprayed a chemical in the direction of the brawlers, and the bouncers who had just contained them. As a result those who were brawling, some bouncers, another copper, some innocent patrons and the copper who did the spraying all inhaled the mist that was formed by the spray. All parties fell down like sacks of shit, coughing their lungs out. 
   If there are any coppers or other persons who witnessed the event I just described on that night and dispute what I am saying allegedly occurred, or would like to corroborate it, please feel free to contact me by hitting the contact button above and I will make appropriate additions to this yarn.

   In regard to more specific complaints I have heard from many bouncers, they say that although the Australian Federal Police rely on them to a very large degree and are often not able to adequately back them up because of the coppers being insufficient in number and too physically weak and snagish, some coppers are very eager to have bouncers charged with assault when complaints arise which allege that the bouncers used excessive force on patrons. 
   I am not saying bouncers should not be charged when it is warranted, but from what I have been told some coppers try to have them charged even in situations where the bouncers are being attacked and have no choice but to use attack as a form of self-defence. 
  I reiterate, I do not want my message to be misconstrued. I am not saying there are no thuggish bouncers around who should be free to lay into people without fear of being charged by the police; I am saying that very few people know what it is like to be a bouncer, particularly when they have to deal with violent subhumans who are affected by alcohol and/or amphetamines, and at times bouncers have no choice other than to be physically violent in order to defend themselves and/or others. 
   

   History over the last 10 years clearly tells us that throughout Australia a relatively large number of bouncers have been bashed senseless by violent patrons and some have been killed.
   If coppers think they have it tough when facing violent people they should spare a thought for bouncers who have no weapons, no authority and run a far greater risk of being prosecuted when they take steps to defend themselves in ways which an ignorant and naive magistrate would not be capable of realising were entirely reasonable and appropriate.
   I did not have a high opinion of bouncers when I was a teenager because I had my share of confrontations with them, and many I came across were cowardly thugs who would pick on the timid and physically weak. Such people should have been rounded up and euthanised. It is however, easy to form an opinion of a group as a whole by how a minority behave, and I now know that many bouncers in those days were just ordinary blokes trying to earn a few dollars, as most are today. I can now relate to the plight of bouncers because I also bounced when I was a younger bloke in need of money.
   Other than the companionship and a few other aspects of the job, I did not enjoy bouncing, as I did not like being forced to defend myself against violent patrons who usually had no training in the fighting arts and were also usually handicapped by alcohol and/or other drugs. And like today's bouncers I did not like having the possibility of being charged with assault hanging over me even if I had used what I considered entirely reasonable force to defend myself. 
   I must admit however, I always enjoyed the action and the teamwork when it came to breaking up fights between patrons. It meant breaking the monotony of the shift by getting some physical exercise, but above all it was the antithesis of gaining a sadistic thrill by way of executing a violent and destructive act on a fellow human. I am saying that putting a hold on a violent patron and marching him out the door without delivering to him any physical damage can be described as a justifiable and positive form of very mild violence to the extent that it actually prevents the possibility of the patron injuring himself and/or others within the club.
   I also worked as a security guard for a private company guarding public buildings for 2 years about 30 years ago. The government had decided to get rid of the govie guards partly for ideological reasons but I believe the main reason was because certain political palms were greased. This however, led to my employment, and I was one of the first private security guards on the job. Privatising the guards was a really dumb idea as it has resulted in public buildings today being less safe than they should be. I talk about my experiences as a private security guard in "Tales of a Canberra Boy."
     We still have private security guards inspecting passengers at our aerodromes. They are paid a pittance and have no job security, so what motivation do they have for doing a good job? After the Twin Towers fell the USA began using government employees for the latter job as they did not want a repetition of what had occurred. Not so Australia. Both the Coalition and Labor are too stupid and ideologically-driven to take such steps.  I can recall hearing words attributed to a private security guard who was the first to arrive at the scene when the 2009 bikie brawl at the Sydney Aerodrome occurred. That brawl resulted in a fatality. When asked why he did not intervene he was apparently reported as saying something like, “Why should I? I'm on $16.00 an hour, I have no weapons and no authority."
   It is because bouncers have no real authority and no weapons or handcuffs their negotiating skills are tested to the limit; more so than any other line of work.
    To bounce well a bouncer must be courteous without appearing to be weak or appearing to deliberately intimidate. Above all it is essential that a bouncer lets potential troublemakers not lose face. The name of the game is prevention and the last thing a sensible bouncer wants is a physical confrontation with a patron/s.  
   Being able to do what I have stated in the previous paragraph as well as let patrons know in a very subtle way that they would be in trouble if they attempted to be physically violent is an extremely difficult balancing act. Bouncers with such skills are thin on the ground and they deserve top money. They do however exist in the Berra, but unfortunately many become ex-bouncers because they become disillusioned with how they are treated by the law. 
   

  It does not take them too long to work out that it is not in their best interest to stay in a job where one does a balancing act between attempting to prevent oneself, one's workmates and patrons from being seriously injured or worse by the violent and preventing oneself from being charged by the police for assault. And as the law is interpreted nowadays this is at times impossible! I am also led to believe that the DPP has become more politicised than ever in regard to its targets.  
   Here is where I come to the next problem faced by bouncers and to a lesser extent cops, and that is the law as it is written and how it is interpreted by naive magistrates. Why it is difficult is because the law allows one to use reasonable force to defend oneself, and what constitutes reasonable force is often decided by magistrates who have never been confronted with physical violence, know nothing about the implications of being threatened with physical violence and in particular know nothing about the physics involved in self-defence. They often do not realise that at times it is entirely reasonable for a person to perform a pre-emptive strike as a form of self-defence, particularly when one has a real threat from multiple opponents.
    I do not have  a high opinion of most magistrates. Obviously I can’t condemn all of them, but I do believe the great majority of them are very low quality, power hungry sacks of shit. Many are so conservative they could only be labelled as simple, and I base my judgement on having listened to them in court on many occasions over my lifetime. Can you imagine them contemplating such philosophical questions as whether we have contra-causal free will? Do they still wear those childish wigs? Many have never really grown up.
   The great majority of magistrates throughout Australia have led very sheltered upper middle class lives despite being exposed to the effects of the worse forms of human behaviour. It is one thing seeing the results of violence but another thing actually being directly confronted with it as it occurs. Other than being well-versed in law, magistrates should be taught some good rationalist philosophy, evolutionary psychology and neuroscience and be given a basic understanding of the physics of self-defence. After that they should be made to live in the real world before they are allowed on the bench. Many magistrates have done nothing in their lives other than go to uni then practise law.
   They should also have much of their power within the court removed. The arses expect people to stand up for them and bow when they come in and out of the court and address them in ways that are very servile and un-Australian. Most have appalling manners, and the Ombudsman is not allowed to act on complaints about their behaviour. Other public servants would be sacked if they spoke to members of the public in the same way many magistrates talk to people. Most humans abuse power in a manner that is proportional to the amount of power they possess. Magistrates are no exception. 
    While I'm at it, from what I've seen of ACT public prosecutors during my life many of their decisions in regard to who they prosecute appear to have been blatantly political and are also based on how much opposition is threatened. They seem to go for easy prey who are devoid of enough capital to adequately defend themselves. This allows the DPP to get his statistics up while leaving alone big fish with deep pockets who can afford QC's. And it is big fish and large corporations who usually do the most damage to their fellow humans.   
  In summing up, the purpose of this yarn/rant is to encourage the ACT Government to pay for more coppers, to hire the right sorts of coppers and to be a bit more sympathetic to the plight of bouncers, as very few people have been able to see things from their perspective. It may involve enacting new legislation. 
   Unfortunately the death of the cricketer, David Hookes, made bouncers the kicking boys for the herd; more so than they already were. This occurred even though it was found that the bouncer who caused Hooke's death did so in self-defence and was quite rightly acquitted. 
     He was first however, condemned by the gutter media and the public without them knowing anything about the circumstances that led to the cricketer's death, and I believe this was because of the bouncer's size, occupation and Slavic surname. To this day bouncers as a group continue to be vilified by the media and the public for similar reasons.  
   My advice to bouncers and possibly their employers is to organise yourselves as a group. That is the only way you will prevent yourselves continuing to be the meat in the sandwich when it comes to doing your job, because nothing will be done unless you speak and/or act as a group.There has been talk about Canberra bouncers conducting a strike for years. If they did the AFP and the ACT government would be in Shit street, particularly in Civic.
 

   Obviously AFP members have their own problems to contend with and my advice to them is to support their union and to stand up for themselves. They should learn by what happened to their weak and compliant predecessors who were thanked for their hard work and subservience by being placed on contracts.
    When I did a union delegates course several years ago the AFP were used as an example of how management shit on the weak. AFP coppers lost their permanency and were placed on contracts sometime in the 80's (from memory) and in the words of our lecturer at the time,"They lay down and took it up the arse!" 
    I reiterate, I am not saying all of today's AFP coppers are as gutless as the uniformed coppers who did not support industrial action when they were placed on contracts; nor am I saying all AFP coppers are piss weak snags who rely on bouncers. I realise there are some very tough boys amongst them and I know one in particular who is overused for his physical and mental toughness. Yet he gets paid no more than his weaker workmates., which does not please him and is grossly unfair. 
    After writing this yarn I have been told a private security company is actually contracted to patrol parts of Civic. It apparently has nothing to do with nightclubs and is paid by the ACT Government. They would obviously have no more authority than any other non-coppers, nor should they. 
    If this is true all I can say is, "What sort of idiots do we have running this place?" Talk about the ACT government abrogating its responsibilities! Again, if this is true AFP union members should feel like crawling under a rock in shame for allowing the ACT Government to get away with it. Do they have any pride, self-respect or sense of solidarity?
Dave Wheeler

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PAPERBOYS AT A CANBERRA NEWSAGENCY IN 1967

 PAPERBOYS AT A CANBERRA NEWSAGENCY IN 1967

By Ron "Slacky" Baxter

  In 1967 I was a 14 or 15 year old schoolboy attending Dickson High and working after school for a bloke I will call Ray McGillicutty who owned the newsagency at a local shopping centre. Why I know it was 1967 is because I can recall seeing headlines in the papers about the 6 day war in Israel for some time. I worked with two other paperboys, Brownie (Owen Brown) and Tag (Doug McTaggart), who were also in my year at Dickson High.

   We were not really paid by the hour. We were paid $2.00 for a 5 day week in which we worked for a minimum of 2 hours every afternoon. This came to 20 cents an hour if we worked two hour days, but we usually worked in excess of the 2 hours. Even though $2.00 could obviously buy far more than it can today it was still appalling money for the time, even at kid's rates. We had to supply our own bikes and got no allowance for it. The two dollars per week wage had apparently remained unchanged for several years.

   Our job entailed first making sure the papers had come in from Sydney. When they were late we had to sit around waiting for them, realising we were not earning extra money for our time and that we had to wait that much longer before we could knock off and go to the Dickson Pool. My run was the longest and hilliest. The other two runs were less difficult but by no means easy.

    The papers we had to deliver were the Mirror, and at a later stage the Sun, although it may have been the other way around. Things were manageable when we only had the one paper to deliver, but when we were given the extra paper it increased our workload by about 50%, and on Wednesdays, when the editions were extra thick, I had to go back to the newsagency to pick up a second load. I did not have the strength to take them all in one go. I did try once, but after going arse-up I did not try again. Having to go back of course delayed my knock-off time.

    If I was asked to give my opinion of our boss at the time, Ray McGillicutty, I would say he was a BLANK and a BLANK. He looked to be middle aged, and if he is alive today I would not be surprised if he still has his lunch money from preschool. When his wife came in to assist in the busier times she would not talk to him. I don’t know if this was because they had a close marriage and she was busy and entirely committed to staying focused, or if it was because she also believed he was a BLANK and could not stand him.

    We did not like the fact that we had to deliver the extra newspapers, as it meant more time on the job without any financial reward, so the three of us discussed our situation on the back landing. 

   Brownie and Tag decided that because our workload had increased by 50% we should hit McGillicutty for a raise of $1 per week, which would bring our wage up to a whole $3.00 per week, or 30 cents per hour. I agreed.

    We decided to draw straws to see who would approach him to ask for the wage rise. To do this Brownie got hold of some matches, and I drew the shortest match. It was only recently I found out Brownie had sneakily done something with the matches to ensure I got the shortest one.

    After accepting what I thought was my bad luck I went back into the store and sheepishly approached McGillicutty while the other boys stayed outside. I asked him for the raise, explaining to him that we thought it was only fair that we should be paid 50% more considering our workload had increased by 50%. McGillicutty probably thought our request was exorbitant but decided he would give some ground and offer us instead a rise of a whole 20 cents per week, or 2 cents per hour. He said it was a case of take it or leave it.

    I went back and told Brownie and Tag what his offer was, and I could see by Brownie’s face he was feeling a surge of rage after realising how much he thought he was being exploited and how powerless he was to do anything about it. After deciding we should all resign rather than take it Brownie was very keen to tell him the three of us were quitting, so he marched into his office and gave him the news.

   Rather than be dictated to by bolshie kids he told us we could finish up after our shift. We agreed, but it was a big mistake on his part because we caused havoc by giving people the wrong papers or throwing them into neighbour’s houses.

    McGillicutty confronted us when we came in after finishing our final shift and told us of the complaints he had received. He would probably have received many more after we left as his customers discovered their papers were missing. It was my first effort at industrial sabotage and it made me feel really good.

   After we had finished up we let people know what we thought of him and how badly we believed we had been exploited. 

   I am unsure if he found any replacement paperboys after we left, because for some time we saw him delivering the papers by himself in his VW convertible. We laughed whenever we saw him, as his combover would blow in the breeze, exposing his bald patch. I would give him the traditional two fingers; not the single American finger kids of today use.

   
   If I am to reflect on the incident I believe that McGillicutty was not just a BLANK; I believe he was a stupid BLANK. His actions provided me with a very valuable lesson, particularly since I have been self-employed for most of my working life. I firmly believe that if employers are not prepared to pay their staff what they are worth they will usually be shooting themselves in the foot. 

   Footnote- Our mate, Brownie, who appeared in this story, died in October 2013. He was a good bloke.

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TEENAGE QUEEN

by Dennis Murphy 

   This true story was written by my mate Dennis "Spud" Murphy, who I went to school with in Canberra. Spud grew up in the Berra and began singing and playing the blues harmonica in local blues bands in his teenage years, as well as at "Folk, Blues and Beyond," a venue that was held in the hall at Corroboree Park. He has continued to sing and play the blues to this day but now lives in Hobart.

Dave Wheeler

TEENAGE QUEEN

By Dennis Murphy

   In September ‘59 my Uncle Frank picked my family up from the Woolloomooloo docks in a new, blue and white, FC station wagon. It was my first day in Australia and he drove us from Sydney to Canberra via Mittagong, Goulburn and Collector. We arrived in the ‘berra at dusk and the first thing he showed us was our new home - a block of land in the then infant suburb of Dickson with a slab of concrete on it.

Two days later my father, Tommy Murphy, an Irish bricklayer, was introduced to two other Irish bricklayers by my uncle. One of the bricklayers was named Paddy Prentice. The three men then proceeded to build a garage that was to become our home for the next eighteen months, until my father was able to finish building our house.

   Above is a recent photo of what was the Murphy family home at 81 Cowper Street, Dickson, showing the garage that is referred to in the last paragraph. Since this anecdote was published the old Murphy family home has been completely demolished, as has the house next door, probably by a developer. What a waste! The whole area it lies within in Dickson has become an overcrowded sewer since the developers bought multiple blocks, demolished the houses on them, and erected on them two story flats. Driving through the streets of Dickson is now dangerous, as the streets were not designed to take the volume or traffic they now experience.

    I can remember Paddy because he was often around at our house. He had a son “Kevin” who was a year older than me, a daughter Rosemary, who was the same age as my older sister (about two and a half years older than me) and a younger daughter who was at least five years younger than me. Paddy’s wife seemed quite tall and fair whereas Paddy was more olive in his complexion and short.

    I bumped into Kevin occasionally over the years and it was always in a pub. He inherited his height from his mother’s side of the family and as a result was a reasonably big bloke. His complexion was somewhere between his mum’s and his dad’s. Kevin was a bricklayer like his dad and a likeable larrikin. He was an archetypal Australian for his generation.

   I saw quite a bit of Rosemary as we visited the Prentices’ and they visited us. Rosemary also used to come around to see my older sister, Rita. I remember Rosemary lent my sister a couple of 45 singles. One was “Teenage Queen” by Johnny Cash.

   I was about eleven or twelve at the time so Rosemary would have been fourteen or fifteen. I liked her more than my sister’s other school friends because she was the friendliest and in my opinion the best looking of my sister’s friends.

   My sister lost touch with Rosemary as Rosemary left school early, probably to become a hairdresser. I say that because she always looked very glamorous and well groomed.  Looking back she had a beautiful face with big blue/green eyes. Her hair was dark.  A year or so later I picked up from a conversation between my mother and Rosemary’s mother, that Rosemary was going through a rebellious phase.

   The last time I saw Rosemary was when I was about 15. It was at the Canadian Hell Drivers show at the Canberra Showgrounds. The Hell Drivers were a bunch of four wheeled Eval Knevals’ doing death defying stunts. 

    I entered the showgrounds in dazzling fashion. The security guards who were dressed in white lab coats had cut off all the gate crashers at the only point where we could sneak in. Rather than turn back I decided to try my luck. 

   The security men were not very athletic so I broke from the pack of forty or so prospective crashers and ran at the guards. Playing on the wing in both league and union I had reasonable evasive skills and acceleration. I split the defence and most of the other crashers followed my example. The quicker kids made it through. 

    I sat down near a group of older boys who belonged to the bodgie subculture. Some of these blokes had girls. One of the girls sitting down was Rosemary who was probably seventeen at that time. She was sitting up against some lucky bloke. I caught her eye and we smiled and waved. It was sunset and she looked great. At this age I was experiencing the suicidal attraction that youths develop for the opposite sex.

   The next I heard of Rosemary was from my mother who was very distraught. She advised me that Rosemary had been  killed in a car crash. That was in mid 1960’s. Paddy an emotional man at the best of times, and his wife were devastated.

   I am still a Johnny Cash fan and I have played his songs for years but for some reason just recently “Teenage Queen” triggered off my dormant memory of Rosemary. Life is such a random thing.

Dennis Murphy
  The first photo below shows Spud Murphy in recent times accompanied by his blues harmonica, singing and blowing at a venue in Hobart. The drummer is Trevor Pearce and the guitarist is Rob Harwood. 

Dennis Murphy sings the “Breaker Morant Waltz” on the embedded youtube clip BELOW. 

The photo below shows Spud Murphy (on the left, running in front) and his mates in or around 1970, in the Berra. The expressions on their faces displays the exuberance of their youth.The lads running behind Spud from left to right are Rob Thomsett, the late Peter Spellman, Erik Olbrei and the late Tom Parvey. 

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