Old memories keep bugging me to say something. So here goes.
In (dim) light of George Pell’s conviction and Channel 7’s recent national report about Adelaide’s renegade pedophile hunter, I feel compelled to share some disturbing information that’s been following me around since the early 2000s.
My intention is not to speak ill of the dead. My intention is to speak on behalf of South Australia’s dead, and living dead, child sex abuse victims who were sworn to a tortured life of secrecy. While certain names have been ‘bleeped,’ everybody else I have referred to in this blog is on public record.
Rumours of Corruption and Personal Impropriety
If you haven’t heard of (bleep!), he was the South Australian Premier in the 1970s, championed by many as a colourful, bold reformist who brought many progressive and exciting changes to staid, stuffy, South Australia (much like it is today). He died an equally glorified death in 1999.
Here’s a Wikipedia snapshot of the closing days of the (bleep!) government:
“After four consecutive election wins, (bleep!) administration began to falter in 1978 following his dismissal of Police Commissioner Harold Salisbury, as controversy broke out over whether he had improperly interfered with a judicial investigation. In addition, policy problems and unemployment began to mount, as well as unsubstantiated rumours of corruption and personal impropriety. (bleep!) became increasingly short-tempered, and the strain was increased by the death of his second wife. His resignation from the premiership and politics in 1979 was abrupt after collapsing due to ill health, but he would live for another 20 years…”
As I stumbled through life in search of answers to crimes committed against me by an insidious band of powerful Adelaide men in the late 1980s, my frail quest for justice led me to child abuse activist Ki Meekins, a former state ward and ‘takeaway child’ victim of multiple perpetrators including TV host Ric Marshall. Ki fought long and hard to bring him to justice and eventually won. Conveniently, Marshall was sentenced to home detention instead of a gaol cell due to ill health.
I showed Ki a document that named the perpetrators in my wretched story and he immediately recognised the name of a media owner. Said he was a long-time associate of Ric Marshall and highly likely to be part of his depraved pedophile world. Then he proceeded to tell me about the victims of the (bleep!) pedophile ring and how ‘takeaway boys’ were rounded up and paraded at secret late-night gatherings at Centennial Hall, Wayville Showgrounds. The boys were hand-picked according to personal, lurid preferences, whisked away to luxury homes, plied with alcohol, drugs, dollars and other temptations in exchange for sex and a vow of life-threatening silence. It not only shocked me to learn that these elite men led twisted, secret lives, it infuriated me.
I wanted to help the victims tell their stories but Ki said they still lived in fear of being killed if they went public. My heart went out to these suffering men and those who tragically saw death as an easier way out of a life lived in tortured silence.
I never saw Ki again but never forgot that meeting. Or the silenced victims.
When I returned home that afternoon, it was a rude welcoming. The house had been broken into. A highly professional job, might I add. Gone was my laptop, photography equipment and silver jewellery.
Joining Forces with Child Abuse Activists
After meeting Ki, it would have been wiser to tend to my own festering wounds, but I was so fired up that I joined forces with three South Australian child abuse activists – Peter Lewis MP (now deceased), Wendy Utting and Barry Standfield.
During a meeting at Parliament House, we vowed to knock South Australia’s pedophile plague on its head.
I listened in silent awe as Wendy recounted late-night knocks at her door and fighting off ‘henchmen in suits’ who attempted to forcibly enter her home. From memory, this was quite possibly the straw that broke my fragile mind. Long story short, I ungraciously bailed out of this most worthy cause at the eleventh hour because I simply didn’t have the capacity for any more stress or horror. How much post-traumatic stress can a human realistically endure?
Utting, Standfield and several informants soldiered on and caused a mighty stir with allegations of sex offences against underage boys by two politicians and senior police. The outraged establishment predictably joined forces to shut them down and a dirty, legal assassination ensued.
I observed the unfolding drama from a distance, relieved that I jumped ship when I did. Utting and Standfield were dragged through court but thankfully, both were acquitted of criminal defamation charges and made it out alive. Two of their reliable informants weren’t as lucky. Robert Woodland was found bashed to death on 8 December 2004 in the South Parklands. Shaine Moore died under suspicious circumstances in February 2005.
Ki eventually wrote a book called Red Tape Rape, the harrowing true story of his life as a sexually abused state ward and beyond, of South Australia’s ‘takeaway children’ who were picked up from government institutions by known pedophiles for ‘weekend outings’. Kids repeatedly drugged and raped. All under the blind watch of depraved South Australian governments devoid of child protection policies.
Ki’s turbocharged pen would also force the hand of the Rann Government to reluctantly call the South Australian Children in State Care Commission of Inquiry. Commencing in November 2004, the $13.5 million inquiry led by Ted Mullighan QC encompassed 1592 allegations of sexual abuse dating from the 1930s against 1733 perpetrators.
The 600-page report was tabled in Parliament on 1 April 2008 and the government also extended a public apology to the victims.
However, an 80-year suppression order was put in place by the then Attorney General Michael Atkinson with then Premier Mike Rann. This essentially means that the 1733 identified evilite pedophiles will never go to court, or be charged.
How Do Evilites Sleep At Night?
Calls to remove the suppression order have naturally fallen on deaf ears. The same deaf ears that forced Henry Keogh to suffer in prison for 20 years. The usual story in South Australia. One wonders how pedophile protectors and evilites can sleep at night.
Sadly, the sordid, secret legacy of the (bleep!) government lives on. And the present-day establishment is hellbent as ever on keeping South Australia’s rotten carpet from exploding with scandalous historical truths for all the world to see.
A screenwriter couldn’t make this up.
Funny I should mention that. I am also on the lookout for a silenced screenwriter who penned a knockout screenplay about South Australia’s controversial (bleep!) Government era. The mystery writer was brought to my attention in 2014 by an old school filmmaker at a networking do in Adelaide, although his name was never mentioned.
The screenplay allegedly rocked the establishment to the core, resulting in the writer being threatened with serious legal action (and probably gaol time) if the proposed film was ever produced. Given that Adelaide has a penchant for gaoling innocent local folk, it’s fortunate that the writer not only bypassed the slammer but got out of the scandal alive. Phew! They sure don’t like true stories being told in that there great southern land.
I suggested that we track down the writer and urge him to resurrect his screenplay. To my surprise, I was met with an indignant response from the filmmaker that went something like this:
‘Oh no. South Australians aren’t interested in historical truth. It wouldn’t do them any good to see a film about the (bleep!) era. They would rather mind their own business and pretend it didn’t happen.’
And that was the end of that conversation.
This Makes ‘Don’s Party’ Look Like A Tea Party
In closing, now that increasing numbers of child abuse victims are emerging from the shadows to share their harrowing stories in the public domain, I hope the mystery South Australian screenwriter comes out of his hidey-hole if he is still on this earth. And if the establishment has another hissy fit, let them. Every writer has the right to write the truth. Lest we forget.
Otherwise, perhaps an accomplished screenwriter can be funded to take on this intriguing project. Funded? In Australia? Yes. It’s been way too long between factual Australian political films and this will make ‘Don’s Party’ look like a mundane, 70’s sex and power romp.
I envisage that rather than focusing on the lewd sex crimes committed against children by South Australia’s secret pedophile rings, the film would primarily explore the exciting reforms, arts revolution, scandals and boisterous rumour mills of the day. It would also shine a subtle spotlight on how and why certain power-drunk, elite individuals the world over have a tendency to succumb to the disturbing mental illness known as pedophilia – and failure to see anything wrong with having sex with children.
It is a heinous crime to have sex with children.
Here we are in 2019. Pedophile victims of elite South Australian evilites still live in fear of being killed if their stories are told. A concrete 80-year suppression order protects hundreds of pedophiles named in the Mullighan Inquiry and the police department still refuses media interviews about the existing pedophile scourge.
Worse still, South Australian politicians still avoid the truth like the plague and go about their business as if none of it ever happened. Reminiscent of avoiding the truth about the shameful, wrongful imprisonment of Henry Keogh.
Time for the ‘political class’ to stand up for the protection of children and justice instead of pedophiles and judicial systems bought by powerful monied men and women.
It’s time, South Australia. The truth heals.
In closing, if you happen to cross paths with the mystery screenwriter in question or an accomplished screenwriter looking for a gobsmacker of a true story to write, please let them know that they can safely direct their pitch to Netflix, Amazon or Apple. It has been reported that these companies are champing at the bit for compelling political true stories.
Linda Summer, Scribe at Lost For Words