14 minute read
Opinion
Opinion
Mark Carroll President Police Association of South Australia
Australians have responded to authority and leadership and flattened the curve in this COVID-19 pandemic. We have accepted the imposition of what some might have considered a police state. Australians would ordinarily have rejected isolation and social distancing, the closure of pubs, and the cancellation of sports fixtures. But we didn’t.
I suspect this is because, in part, we have granted our leaders the authority to lead us through this crisis. We recognized the need to let the tall poppies stand, and most of us accepted the need for mutual respect, support, and co-operation.
This COVID-19 pandemic represents the most significant disruption to our lives since, perhaps, World War II. Some early success, however, has given us a sense of victory in the battle and the expectation that our freedoms will soon be restored.
But epidemiologists and other medical experts are at pains to stress that this pandemic is not over. If the COVID-19 caseload rises again, restrictions could be quickly reimposed. That will again test Australian leadership and our willingness, as a nation, to submit to authority. Like our national leaders, our police and other emergencyservices personnel ask for community understanding and acceptance, particularly if the government extends the current restrictions.
Australians, indigenous and non-indigenous, have a well-deserved reputation for thumbing their noses at authority.
That distaste, and our refusal to kowtow to our leaders, goes all the way back to colonial Australia and its convict origins.
In World War 1, the Australians who enlisted in the AIF took our national disregard for authority onto the international stage. They won high praise as fighters, horsemen and, above all, loyal mates but had a dislike of uniforms, drills, marching and parades.
Australian soldiers understood that somebody had to give the orders, but they were not about to take them from anybody they did not respect. This is in our national DNA.
Leadership extends beyond our elected representatives. It comes in many forms. The chief medical officers, the front-line health workers and our police are just some of the other leaders we look to in troubled times.
They are the obvious ones but there are leaders everywhere, right through to the supermarket team leaders who enforce social distancing and stand between the checkout operators and irate shoppers.
Police officers, as they enforce the rules and regulations drafted by elected leaders, continue to go tirelessly about their role, protecting the community.
Like front-line health workers, police officers don’t have the luxury of social distancing. And cops often lack PPE and cannot stick to rigorous hygiene protocols. They frequently have to engage physically with, or be in close proximity to, members of the public who might well be COVID-19 carriers.
This naturally leads to the anxiety associated with not knowing what they are taking home to their families at the end of each shift.
Like our national leaders, our police and other emergency-services personnel ask for community understanding and acceptance, particularly if the government extends the current restrictions.
The COVID-19 pandemic is not likely over yet. To emerge at the other end of it, with our social fabric in good order, we will need to respect, support, and co-operate with one another. It’s a two-way street.
A little more justice in the penalty By Brett Williams
Brevet Sergeant Jason Smith was never the only one who thought his attacker should have had to serve jail time. Members of the public agreed with him, as their hundreds of unequivocal responses to his story showed on social media platforms.
And no surprise that the entire police community wanted Matthew Wright behind bars. The rampaging former soldier had, among other things, kicked Smith so forcefully as to sever his patella tendon (Kicked into helplessness, Police Journal, June 2019).
To the Police Association, the thought of Wright walking out of court with his freedom was loathsome. It was an example the association used in its successful 2019 campaign to toughen up laws and penalties for assaults on police.
Wright faced charges of aggravated cause harm with intent against Smith, and aggravated assault against his patrol partner, Senior Constable Matthew McCarthy. The offences carried maximum penalties of imprisonment for 13 years and four years, respectively.
District Court judge Rauf Soulio sentenced Wright to 12 months’ imprisonment, with a 10 per cent reduction for pleading guilty.
That left Wright with a total head sentence of 11 months and 22 days – which the judge suspended.
Smith (pictured opposite) found the outcome “unacceptable and … frustrating”, as he explained to the Police Journal last year.
But he has now found at least some satisfaction in a successful appeal, by application of the DPP, against the leniency of the sentence handed down to Wright.
The DPP contended that, among other things, the 11-month, 22-day sentence was manifestly inadequate.
In the Court of Criminal Appeal last October, justices Trish Kelly, Greg Parker and Michael David agreed, and allowed the appeal.
They considered the sentence failed to “recognize the seriousness of the offending and significance of general deterrence … where police officers are assaulted while performing their duty”.
Justice Parker, with the agreement of his fellow justices, quashed the 12-month prison sentence and imposed a term of two years.
Wright remained entitled to his 10 per cent reduction and wound up with a sentence of one year, 10 months and 15 days. And Justice Parker set a 12-month non-parole period.
The DPP did not contend that Judge Soulio had erred by suspending the original sentence. So, despite the win, Wright was still not headed for a jail cell.
But Smith, although pleased to see the appeal undertaken, “wasn’t expecting much” on the day of the judgement anyway.
“I think, overall, he (Wright) has learnt nothing from the experience,” Smith says, “simply because he didn’t have any freedom taken away.
“But I was glad to see that the appeal was looked at and that it came out favourably, or as a win for us.”
And that win came almost three years since Wright had launched his unprovoked attack on the two cops – and five innocent civilians.
The trouble started on a Friday night in January 2017. Smith and McCarthy had responded to reports of assaults on staff and customers at two Gilles Plains restaurants.
That was after the intoxicated Wright had hijacked a woman and her daughter in their car at Medindie.
When Smith and McCarthy spotted him, he was sprinting away from a pursuing hotel security guard on North East Road, Gilles Plains.
The officers pulled up in their patrol car and Wright launched his attack on them, beginning with a series of “haymakers” he threw at Smith.
McCarthy moved quickly to back up his partner and the battle was on to restrain Wright, who just kept swinging those punches.
The restraint action soon spilled out from the footpath onto the road, where Wright let fly with several kicks. Smith copped the last one, and it severed his patella tendon.
“I didn’t realize what had happened,” he said last year. “It was just kick and bang! My legs just collapsed, and I toppled over onto the road.”
With Smith incapacitated, McCarthy got some help from the security guard, who charged in and took Wright down with a rugby-style tackle. The pair still got resistance from Wright, but McCarthy finally got him cuffed and under control.
Smith went to hospital by ambulance and underwent surgery to reattach his tendon. After his discharge the next week, he began his long, gruelling recovery at home, aided by strong painkilling medication.
Immobile and heavily reliant on others, it took him six months to get back to work. In that time, he underwent a second operation, struggled with his home life, and wound up diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.
And no help to his mental state was the lenient sentence handed down to his attacker in March last year. Smith and his wife, Belinda, heard it for themselves in court.
“I could see the emotional toll it was taking on Jason,” Belinda said last year. “He had tears in his eyes, and he was shaking.”
But it all served as inspiration for Smith to play a direct role in the Police Association campaign for stronger penalties for assaults on police.
First, in an interview he gave the Police Journal, he contributed deeply personal details about the struggle he had faced after the attack.
Later, Smith fronted up with another assault victim, Sergeant Andrew Goldsmith, for an on-camera interview which the association posted on its Facebook page.
Their contribution, and that of other assault-police victims, helped the association win the legislative amendments it had sought. For assaults against police, The Criminal Law Consolidation Act now contains the strongest maximum penalties in SA history.
“I don’t think the legislation would’ve got through if it wasn’t for that campaign,” Smith says. “I thought it was well done by the association.”
Police Association president Mark Carroll, who led the push for legislative change, speaks of Smith and other assault victims as “heroic figures” in the campaign.
“They were willing to, and did, reveal very private information about the impact of the assaults they suffered,” he says. “For that, they deserve great credit.
“And, as far as the massive damage Wright inflicted on Jason, and his assault on Matthew, it was never acceptable for him to serve no jail time.
“We welcomed the increase to his sentence in the Court of Criminal Appeal, but we still believe the suspension of that sentence was inappropriate.”
Top left: Smith on the footpath with his knee dislodged; far left: the scar left after surgery; left: bruising behind Smith’s knee.
Since the attack, Smith has never returned to patrol work. Nor does he expect he ever will. He now finds satisfaction in a position he won at Ethical and Professional Standards Branch last year.
But, even now, after three-plus years, the physical and psychological recoveries continue for Smith.
“Obviously, I’ve got an injury that’s not going to be 100 per cent ever again,” he says. “But I can contribute towards it getting better than it is now.
“There are times when I end up with a few aches, but that’s something I’ve got to accept. It’s going to happen, I suppose, for the rest of my life.
“I don’t have a limp, which is what I was worried about to start with. I just manage it the best way I can.
“Mentally, I just try not to dwell on it so much because that’s no good for anyone, not me or my family and friends.”
What Smith hopes to see now is the courts make good use of the legislation brought about by the Police Association campaign.
“Emergency workers want to come home the same way they go to work,” he says. “If we don’t, we want to see whoever it is (on the bench) do something to stop people from offending again.” PJ
How the kitchen survived COVID
By Brett Williams
It had Police Club chef Gary Petrus shocked, and his apprentice, Louisa Wilson, wondering whether she would still have a job. The government had just announced its COVID-19 restrictions on the hospitality industry. And, the Police Club – like other clubs, restaurants, cafés and function centres – was going to have to close its doors to diners.
Gary, 52, had come to the club with an invaluable 32 years’ experience in 2015. He had found great satisfaction in not only his role but also the Police Club environment.
Louisa, 20, became his apprentice in May 2019, after she had undertaken training courses and cooked for Foodbank and OzHarvest.
“When I came here everyone was, and still is, very friendly,” she says, as she reflects on her start in hospitality. “The people here are just so nice.”
But the club, unique in Australia, was facing one of the greatest-ever threats to its survival. The situation called for a strategy, and one quickly emerged.
Out of a meeting with Police Association president Mark Carroll, hotelier David Basheer (the Basheer Group) and club staff came a plan for a takeaway operation.
It was to involve not only a small but high-quality menu of takeaway options but also pre-prepared Friday roasts and frozen meals.
“I came up with the smaller menu because people don’t want to wait 20 or 30 minutes for takeaway,” Gary explains.
“The menu was quick and easy but still good value, good food and good quality. It was just quicker and easier, so people didn’t have to wait outside for long.”
For hungry cops and others, the procedure was as simple as placing an order by phone or in person at the Precinct Café window.
“Everybody knew about it within a few days and just took it on board,” Gary says. “And the good thing was that at least we were open as a business, serving our patrons.
“In the second week, on the Thursday before Good Friday, Louisa and I cracked a record – 280 meals. That was takeaway, roasts and the frozen meals. It was a massive day, and the most that’s ever been done here.”
Most popular on the takeaway menu was the beef schnitzel and the burger. Of the frozen meals, the butter chicken took the No. 1 spot and was the dish Louisa most enjoyed preparing.
She felt great relief to see cops and others stick with the club and embrace the takeaway operation.
“It was new to them and it was new to us,” she says. “So, we weren’t sure how they’d take to it, but they’ve been really good. They’ve helped support the business.”
Naturally, setting up and running a major takeaway-only operation came with challenges for Gary and Louisa.
Toughest for Gary was monitoring the club’s food supplies, as many suppliers had reduced their delivery days owing to restaurant shutdowns.
“Delivery days used to be Monday to Friday, but a lot of companies decided to do a delivery day just twice a week,” he says.
“So, all of a sudden, you might move 70 or 80 frozen meals and, then, you’ve got to have more ready for the next day. You just had to monitor the food (supplies) so closely.”
Of course, the integrity of the food preparation process was never in doubt, as Gary was able to draw on experience he had gained in a previous job.
“I got to learn about the cooling process, about labels and dating, and also about the packaging side of it,” he says.
“If I hadn’t have done that, I might’ve struggled with what we were doing here for the frozen meals and roasts.”
Gary and Louisa, as individuals and as a partnership, were themselves the key contributors to the success of the takeaway operation.
Gary, who began his chef journey as a 15-year-old apprentice, applied the cookery knowledge and skills he had built up over the past 37 years. Before his time with the club, he had worked in city and suburban pubs, the Norwood footy club and, for a time, the aged-care sector.
Louisa might have had less experience but nonetheless brought her renowned drive to the task. She had also come from a family in which three of her seven brothers were chefs, and cooking was always “a big thing”.
“She’s great value,” Gary insists. “She’s probably one of the top apprentices I’ve ever had. She’s cautious and likes things done neatly and tidily. And she knows I’m pedantic but she’s on board with that, too.”
Both the chef and his apprentice enjoy and appreciate the compliments that cops frequently shout through the servery window.
Says Gary: “A lot of them will stick their heads in there and say: ‘Thank you very much, chef. It was really nice. Really enjoyed it.’ ”
Now, as the COVID-19 restrictions ease, Gary and Louisa are excited about operations returning to normal in their kitchen.
“Louisa and I have spoken about how we’ve missed what we were doing before the restrictions,” Gary says.
“We had that variety of preparing bistro and cocktail foods, formal dinners, as in graduations, high teas and luncheon functions.
“And you miss the adrenaline rush when you’re really busy with a variety of cooking.”
Mark Carroll considers the decision the Police Association made to keep the Police Club running with a takeaway operation was “precisely the right one”.
“Very few clubs and restaurants operated this way during the restrictions, and our effort proved highly successful,” he says.
“We were determined not to let the club suffer and, most important, to keep a quality food option available to our members and others.
“Gary and Louisa, and all our Police Club team, deserve great credit for what they’ve helped achieve.” PJ
