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[l]One wet night in April
May 15, 2004
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It's every parent's nightmare: the car overloaded with teenage party-goers, the accident in the early hours of the morning, the policeman's knock on the door. Valerie Lawson and Brigid Delaney report.
The Bidura Children's Court in Glebe is a place of last resort. "This is your last chance," warn desperate mums and dads. Their offspring lean on the walls outside, smoking, or slumped on a bench in the pebble-stoned courtyard.
The vending machine does a steady trade in soft drinks, while a court volunteer hands out coffee and tea in polystyrene cups. As the magistrates dispense justice in two courtrooms, only a few onlookers watch the sad parade of accused.
But for three days in January, there was standing room only. Like wedding guests in church, the observers congregated in preordained places in one courtroom. On the left, sat more than a dozen shorthand-scribbling reporters. On the right, women in summer dresses cried silently, one resting her head on her husband's shoulder.
Among the observers were parents of North Shore students, including a judge and the chief executive of a large Australian company. An attendant whispered that she had never seen so many squeezed into one little courtroom.
A senior counsel addressed the accused - a tall woman of 18. As she gave evidence, the accused trembled. She wept uncontrollably, bowed her head, and twisted tissues in her hands. From time to time, she pleaded to her father, to the magistrate, the police prosecutor and barrister: "I just want to go home."
She had not committed a shocking crime. She had had an accident, with shocking consequences.
The aftermath rippled through many communities, to schools, in the city and the country, to families, to helpers and teachers and priests. More than a year later, many linked through the accident are still grieving, none more than the parents of two boys.
The case attracted much attention, partly because some of the families involved were well known in Sydney business and legal circles. Because the accused was a minor at the time of the accident, she could not be named, nor could her friends who gave evidence. Rumours, many quite wrong, spread about their identities and one website did disclose the names of two parents.
But the accident was newsworthy for other reasons: it involved so many young men and women, not just a group of friends, but every student at two prominent North Shore schools and many students at other schools across Sydney. Every parent in Sydney could empathise with the accident. It was the kind that every parent dreads, and many must face.
Anyone who saw the extensive coverage after the accident would have tried to push away those niggling, circular thoughts: Can I trust my kids? Where are they now? Why haven't they called like they promised?
In the aftermath, the Road Transport Act was amended in an effort to prevent a similar tragedy. It became an offence for any driver to carry passengers in a car boot, and an offence for drivers with L and P plates to carry more passengers than the available seatbelts.
Piecing together the story of the accident, the Herald set out to find other lessons, among them, about peer pressure, and about instant decisions we live to regret. Many facts about the accident were available from public statements and the court. We also sought out the friends and others connected with those involved. Many did not agree to speak, and a few raised strong objections.
What haunts them all is the accident at Mona Vale Road, in the early hours of April 12, 2003.
THE PARTY
On Sydney's North Shore, Queenwood School for Girls is blessed with panoramic views - yachts bob on their moorings at Balmoral Beach, Middle Harbour; beyond, Middle Head and North Head. Flower boxes enhance the beauty of manicured grounds.
Queenwood's motto is "per aspera ad astra" - through struggles to the stars - but the struggles of life seem distant in the tranquil suburbs of Balmoral and Mosman, home to many Queenwood girls.
In the first week of April last year, the only cloud ahead for the year 12 girls was the HSC, still seven months ahead. One of the brightest girls in the year was Sarah*. Well-travelled and confident, she was lucky enough to drive her own car, a Volkswagen Golf bought by her parents and registered in her name.
Among her friends was Emma*, who had joined Queenwood in kindergarten, Kirsty* and Chloe*. Through North Shore networks, the Queenwood girls knew boys from St Ignatius, Riverview, the Catholic boys' school in sprawling grounds by the river at Lane Cove.
During the first week of April, the girls were looking forward to a party at Ingleside for two Riverview boys, Ross Walsh, a first XV second-rower, and Angus Campbell, a champion rower. Both had recently turned 18, but delayed their celebration until the last day of term, Friday, April 11, a week before Good Friday.
The Queenwood principal, Kem Bray, was preparing for a three-week overseas holiday. At Riverview, the headmaster, Shane Hogan, relaxed as he saw the boarders drive off. "You always go 'phew!' " he said later. "There's about two weeks when they're not actually your responsibility."
That Friday, many boarders planned to attend the party, though they had to be at Central Station at six the next morning, bound for their country homes. Queenwood student Emma had a sports commitment the following day. She knew she couldn't drink alcohol that night.
After school, Chloe met Sarah at a hairdressing salon in McMahons Point. At a nearby bottleshop, they bought some party supplies - small bottles of the citrus-flavoured alcopop, Smirnoff Black Ice.
The four girls, Emma, Sarah, Kirsty and Chloe, travelled to Ingleside in Sarah's car. The magistrate who later heard the case against Emma described the seating arrangements. Sarah and Kirsty agreed that Kirsty would drive because Sarah had been drinking. The court heard that Sarah and Kirsty had alcoholic drinks in their hands as they left for the Walsh family home, at Cicada Glen Road, Ingleside.
Ingleside is a fair hike from the homes of most of the Queenwood girls. No one wanted to pay the $60 cab fare. Three other year 12 girls, Louisa*, Megan*, and Lauren* were also looking for a lift in Sarah's car but ended up going by cab. The girls were disappointed not to get a lift in Sarah's car. They had tried to arrange it, ringing Sarah on her mobile phone on her way to Ingleside. Although she was a passenger in her car, Sarah pretended to be in a cab. It was a childish ruse, with Kirsty in the background putting on an accent, and asking "$50" for the fare.
Sarah and the others in her car arrived at the gated entrance to the Walsh home at 10pm. Louisa, Megan and Lauren arrived about half an hour later, furious to see Sarah's VW in the driveway.
In evidence later, Emma said: "They were angry that we lied. They spent all their money on a cab, so they said we should give them a drive home ... They were putting so much pressure on us, Sarah felt obliged. I said to Megan and Louisa 'I'm really sorry we all lied to you.' "
Most of the 150 or so guests at the party were Riverview boys, among them, two mates, Sam Turner, 18, and Billy O'Connor, 17, both boarders in year 12, and both very popular at school.
Sam and Billy had recently celebrated Riverview's win in the GPS seconds tennis premiership and had both sat their trial HSC the day before the party. Sam was known as Mr Reliable. Until year 10, he was school captain at Mount Carmel School, in Yass, where his father owns a wholesale nursery. In 2001 Sam moved to Sydney to board with his uncle, Graeme Henson who regarded him as a son, while Henson's daughter, a year 12 Queenwood girl, thought of Sam as a brother.
At the start of April, Sam learnt he had been accepted for a gap-year job as a boarding school assistant in England. His mum and dad, Evelyn and Paul, and his sister, Sophie, wondered how they would cope when they were so far apart. Hogan, his headmaster, saw Sam as a natural leader.
Billy was one of many O'Connors from the Southern Tablelands township of Harden to attend Riverview, among them his older brothers, Luke and Josh, and his father, Peter. Billy was good at maths, as well as sports. Like Sam, he planned to go overseas for a year before university.
That Friday, Billy's dad, Peter, drove to Sydney, to stay with friends at Harbord. Next day, he planned to drive Billy and Sam to Canberra, to watch Billy's brothers play football.
The two Riverview boys decided to spend the night at the Walshes, but Sam changed his mind when he met up with Sarah at the party. They had dated briefly in year 10, but hadn't seen one another for more than a year. She was fond of Sam and later told police that she wanted to spend more time with him.
The booze ran out before the girls arrived at the party, but some guests, including the Queenwood friends, had their own supplies. Sarah, Kirsty and Chloe each drank three or four small bottles of Smirnoff Black Ice. About 11.30, Emma was alarmed to see Kirsty sitting on the front steps of the house, another drink in her hand. Although Kirsty promised, "I'm fine," Emma was not sure she could drive. Emma told the court, "I knew she wasn't drunk, but I didn't feel safe." Emma suggested to Sarah: "I think I should drive home." Sarah agreed.
The music was turned off at 12.30am. Half an hour later, Ross Walsh's parents were winding things up - calling taxis for the last of the stragglers. They went to bed while the crowd spilled onto the rain-soaked lawn. Some guests linked arms, laughing as they held one another up. It was slippery on the steep incline. Although she did not have her driver's licence with her, Emma offered to drive two year 11 Riverview boys to a nearby roundabout to catch a cab.
When she returned, the number of guests wanting a lift had grown. Sarah had offered Sam a lift back to her place. Sam wanted Billy to come along. Chloe was planning to go back to Sarah's as well. Emma beeped the horn, impatient to get going. Sarah and Sam walked down the slope to the car. Louisa and Billy followed. By now, more guests jostled for a space, some arguing, others warning against overloading the car. Lauren found another lift home. But that still left seven passengers - Sam, Billy, Sarah, Chloe, Kirsty, Louisa, and Megan.
Chloe sat in the front passenger seat. Megan and Louisa were the first to hop into the back. Rain was starting to fall again. Emma grew worried. She glanced at Sarah and mouthed "too many people". Sarah reassured her.
Later, Sarah told the court she "never had a problem" with passengers riding in the boot, and had allowed it at least twice before. Sarah offered to get in the hatch compartment, but Emma said, "If anything, boys get in the boot and the girls in the back."
Emma turned on the ignition. As she later told the court, "I didn't want people to think I was a loser" by fussing any more.
She had never driven a VW Golf before, and she was still a P-plate driver. Emma tested the brake and accelerator. They felt different from her mother's car which she usually drove.
Louisa, Megan, Sarah, and Kirsty were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the back seat, unrestrained by seat belts. Sam and Billy were tucked into the hatch compartment, facing one another. Billy's girlfriend, a year 12 student at Kincoppal, Rose Bay, begged him not to get into the hatch. He waved as the car drove off. Sam sat directly behind Louisa. She turned around and patted him on the head.
The eight teenagers drove into the night, described later by Hogan as "a dirty night ... wet and really heavy with rain".
THE ACCIDENT
As they approached Mona Vale Road, Emma felt chilly. She stopped the car, and pulled on her jacket. The rain splashed heavily on the windscreen. Emma turned down the radio and switched on the air-conditioning to clear the fogged-up glass. Ten metres before a left-hand bend, the speedometer showed 70kmh. Emma applied the brakes slowly and lightly. She glanced at the clock. It was 1.17am.
Ahead was as a straight stretch of downhill road. Coming out of the corner, Emma tried to straighten the car. To her horror, she couldn't steer. As Emma tried frantically to correct, she cried: "It's not me. It's not me ... " Megan yelled: "Stop, stop, stop, stop." Emma screamed: "I'm not doing this on purpose. I can't control the wheels."
The car swerved left-right-left, then spun 180 degrees to the side of the road. It hit the sandstone guttering, then ricocheted 20 metres backwards, slamming into a pole. As the boot collapsed, Billy was thrown onto the road. Chloe remained conscious but heard nothing. Sarah lost consciousness on the impact.
Kirsty felt the swerves in slow motion, the girls in the back, their arms around one another sliding forward. She tried to open the doors. They wouldn't budge. Louisa had locked the door near her, back in the Walsh driveway, to stop even more people squeezing into the car.
Kirsty forced open a door, walked around the back, and saw Sam, still in the hatch compartment. She reached to feel his pulse. There was none.
Kirsty set out, along the unlit road, looking for Billy. Not far away, she found him. Like Sam, he had died instantly from head injuries.
Emma was slumped over the driver's seat and couldn't move. Kirsty prised open the driver's door, and with another girl, pulled out Emma. Chloe climbed through a window, and started to run. She waved down a taxi and the driver called police and ambulance.
Diane Lennon, a 22-year-old constable, and Senior Constable John McManus, from Dee Why police station, heard the call on the police radio. When they arrived, about 2am, Emma was crying hysterically. " I'm a murderer, " she sobbed. "I've killed someone." Emma looked at Billy on the roadway. She asked the policewoman ,"Will I go to jail for this?" Lennon said: "You are not a murderer."
Kirsty called her parents, the other girls' parents, the mobiles of friends at the party. Ambulances took the girls to Royal North Shore and Mona Vale hospitals. Louisa was bruised. Sarah woke up in hospital in a neck brace. Kirsty had broken her collarbone. Megan had broken her ankle.
THE BROKEN HOLIDAY
News of the crash spread in moments. The network of friends punched out the news on their mobiles. The girls called the boys, who called Mark McGinnity, the boarding master at Riverview. McGinnity nearly didn't take the call. It was 2.10am. Must have been the boys, playing up. Instead, he heard, "There's been an accident ..."
McGinnity called Hogan, who got to the Walshes at 2.40am, along with McGinnity and the year 12 master, Neil Mushan. About 15 boys were still there. Some had left, then returned, when they heard the news.
"The kids were just beside themselves," said Hogan, "so distressed at that stage." Mushan went down to the accident scene to help identify the boys through their wallets: "We told the boys at the party who were speaking on their mobiles, 'Don't say anything. By 7 o'clock, the school will make an announcement as to when we can all get together and talk it through.'
"Billy's father was in Sydney waiting for him. That was a worry, that someone would be ringing ... we were pushing the police to notify the parents, because everybody knew who [had] died. But the police ... have a process they go through."
In Yass, a car pulled up at the Turners about 4.30am. Paul Turner later told Hogan that "he knew, before he got to the door, he just knew it was the police".
Hogan, McGinnity and Mushan "sat for a long time ... 'til about 6 o'clock, trying to get the boys at the party to go home".
The three men then contacted all the boys in year 12, and the Old Boys Union. "We got it on the website by half past 7. We assembled here at school at 7. I rang the other directors and leaders of the school, and by midday there were 600 people in the chapel."
Riverview's two counsellors "phoned as many counsellors as they knew in Sydney to gather. We had a debriefing about 11. When the boys arrived, there was tea and coffee and rooms were open, so they could sit with a counsellor or one of the staff members or ... in groups, as they did. Lots of girls turned up."
The feeling was "how could it happen to us ... to Billy and Sam? It was more disbelief, and absolute out-and-out grieving."
At Queenwood, principal Bray was still in Sydney when the staff gathered for an emergency meeting on Saturday morning. Queenwood had a crisis management plan for just such an eventuality. Two year 12 groups were involved, both in shock: Sam's cousin and her friends, and the four girls in the car.
Bray and the Queenwood staff made it clear they would not judge. Their role was to look after all the students. Later, Queenwood referred the girls to two sets of psychologists, at the Coroners Court and Royal North Shore Hospital.
The day after the accident, a group of Riverview boys went to the pole where their mates had died. They pinned a Riverview jersey on the pole along with a message to Sam and Billy: "You'll live in our hearts forever, all our love, from the View Boys."
On Tuesday, year 12 was on the way to Harden and Yass. "Two hundred and thirty boys," said Hogan, "plus parents, then the staff, and choir, younger kids."
JERUSALEM
The O'Connors, well known in the district, are part of the farming community of Harden, rather than the town. Julie O'Connor, Billy's mother, runs a landscape design business.
In this part of the world, "people know every little thing", said Father Joseph Tran, the parish priest at Harden. "It's a very small town. So the death of two young ones affects us very strongly. It was a huge, packed funeral ... It was very touching and people came from the town and places like Yass and Coota."
Billy's funeral was held on Wednesday morning, at St Anthony's. Slides of his young life, from his toddler years, were shown. The church overflowed with mourners, with students not only from Riverview, but from Loreto, St Vincent's, Kincoppal and Queenwood, said Hogan. "The boys will never forget it. They formed a guard of honour and sang Jerusalem. It's their war cry for football. It was very powerful. You are physically and emotionally exhausted and you had to do it all again in the afternoon."
At Yass, the Mass was shared by Father Laurie Bent and a young Jesuit priest who had known Sam at Riverview. More than 1000 attended the funeral at St Augustine's Catholic Church.
Hogan remembers the singing, the way it "bounced off the town, the hills, the kids' voices; it was amazing, and the kids were weeping".
"Two funerals in one day is - incredible emotional strength. I've said to the boys many times, and to their parents, their lives are cemented together forever."
In the Queenwood school newsletter, the acting principal, James Harpur, comforted with Ecclesiastes: "To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." The accident, he wrote, "confronted us all with the fragility of life ... although the school was not directly involved in the accident, our response was swift and all the girls who were affected in any way received, and will continue to receive, our full support."
The Metropolitan Crash Unit investigated the accident. At North Sydney police station, on May 16, Emma was charged with two counts of driving in a dangerous manner, causing the deaths of Sam and Billy. She was also charged in the alternative with negligent driving and with failing to provide particulars. She pleaded not guilty to all charges and was released on bail.
THE AFTERMATH
At Queenwood, the grief was raw among the year 12 girls. Some were supported by Jeff Crumpton, director of the Department of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, based at Royal North Shore Hospital. Said Crumpton: "When it comes to trauma, and the responses of teens, the most normal reaction is 'well, shit happened, and I don't want to deal with it'. They [the young people] are trying to organise their day-to-day functions with awful memories and images coming at them. Trying to get through the day is awful enough without someone trying to say, 'sit down and tell me what happened to you'.
"When you are an adolescent, you think you are pretty much bulletproof. So when something does happen, it is profoundly challenging ... Traumatic grief is a particularly difficult and dangerous kind of grief to deal with. When the [Queenwood] girls were coming to see me," he said, "it was their last year of school, and a profoundly emotional step for them, to think they were going to lose their connections, part of their family was going to disappear."
Crumpton said the accident caused ripple effects in the wider community including students from other schools. " [There] is networking, particularly in these private schools. They all get the same buses and ferries, they all live in the same area and the level of communication is high."
Gossip and stories about the accident spread. Emotions ran high. Crumpton counselled one boy from another private school who was acutely suicidal when he heard about the accident. "He was referred to us because he was about to hang himself in the garage."
As some of the boy's friends had died in other accidents, "he felt he was positively lethal, because he knew these boys ... felt that he was a very dangerous person to be around - he felt that everyone around him was dying ...
"He settled down after counselling - but his parents didn't realise how profoundly he'd been affected by these previous things."
At Riverview, the year 12 boys seemed adrift. "They lost three months of their life in the grieving process," said Hogan.
In September the school won its sixth GPS rugby title in 110 years. Riverview dedicated the victory to Sam and Billy. The HSC was still to come, and Riverview "worked them very hard. The busier they were, the better they were ... it was tough for them to be compared [against other schools]. That being said, the school went well."
The six Queenwood girls in the accident also did well in their HSC. Two were offered places at the University of Sydney, and one each at Macquarie, Wollongong, UNSW and Southern Cross University. Two of the six enrolled in media studies.
THE COURT
Few families have the financial resources or connections to assemble a legal team like Emma's. With advice from a Queenwood parent who is also a judge, Emma's family were assisted by a partner in a big city law firm, Baker & McKenzie. The partner briefed Desmond Fagan, SC, whose junior was Chris Hoy.
Emma's supporters clustered around her, with Sam Turner's parents sitting on the opposite side of the courtroom, in front of the journalists.
Every day, TV cameramen were waiting outside the children's court.
On day two, Fagan successfully applied to have witnesses expelled from the court because their presence was upsetting Emma.
Outside the court, reporters saw the tensions that had grown between the Queenwood friends. Emma, sobbing, running out of the courtroom confronted Kirsty: "Stop lying." Kirsty replied: "I'm not allowed to talk to you." Emma responded: "Do you understand how hard this is for me? I was never going to drive that night and you know that."
The police prosecutor, Gary Charlesworth, had argued that Emma should be held accountable for driving with unbelted passengers. But on the final day, the magistrate, Elaine Truscott, dismissed three charges, leaving only one, negligent driving causing death. After hearing evidence, Truscott dismissed that charge, too. "In my view," said Truscott, "she is no more morally or legally culpable than anyone else who occupied the vehicle for the events that unfolded that night."
After the committal hearing, there was some media comment on whether Emma had got off lightly.
It is difficult to compare the outcome of her case with others, as neither the Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research nor the Department of Juvenile Justice collects data on committal hearings. Emma did not plead guilty, so the only statistics for comparison are the number of young people whose cases go to trial.
Figures from the bureau for drivers under 20 show that from 1998 to 2002, there were 48 charges of driving causing death listed for trial. Of those found guilty, 17 went to jail, two were given home detention, six served time in a juvenile institution, two received periodic detention, three were given a suspended sentence and three a community service order.
Although she never faced trial, Emma has to live with the question: why did I drive that night?
Whatever she is suffering, though, is little compared with the agony of the boys' parents. Billy's mother, Julie, seems to have forgiven. She told the Herald: "I don't think she had done anything wrong. I felt sorry for her. It was an ... incident we'd all been dragged into."
Others have found it harder to forgive. No one will forget.
One week after the death of his son, Paul Turner spoke of his love for Sam. But he spoke, as well, to others. "It helps that he is always with us. He is an angel, and we just had him on loan. We just want to tell parents to spend time with their kids. You just do not know."
* Not their real names. The names of accused and witnesses appearing in the Children's Court cannot be used. [/l]
its like 1 year ago... can't they stop mentioning it and let us move on?
from: http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2004/05/14/1084289895119.html#
May 15, 2004
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It's every parent's nightmare: the car overloaded with teenage party-goers, the accident in the early hours of the morning, the policeman's knock on the door. Valerie Lawson and Brigid Delaney report.
The Bidura Children's Court in Glebe is a place of last resort. "This is your last chance," warn desperate mums and dads. Their offspring lean on the walls outside, smoking, or slumped on a bench in the pebble-stoned courtyard.
The vending machine does a steady trade in soft drinks, while a court volunteer hands out coffee and tea in polystyrene cups. As the magistrates dispense justice in two courtrooms, only a few onlookers watch the sad parade of accused.
But for three days in January, there was standing room only. Like wedding guests in church, the observers congregated in preordained places in one courtroom. On the left, sat more than a dozen shorthand-scribbling reporters. On the right, women in summer dresses cried silently, one resting her head on her husband's shoulder.
Among the observers were parents of North Shore students, including a judge and the chief executive of a large Australian company. An attendant whispered that she had never seen so many squeezed into one little courtroom.
A senior counsel addressed the accused - a tall woman of 18. As she gave evidence, the accused trembled. She wept uncontrollably, bowed her head, and twisted tissues in her hands. From time to time, she pleaded to her father, to the magistrate, the police prosecutor and barrister: "I just want to go home."
She had not committed a shocking crime. She had had an accident, with shocking consequences.
The aftermath rippled through many communities, to schools, in the city and the country, to families, to helpers and teachers and priests. More than a year later, many linked through the accident are still grieving, none more than the parents of two boys.
The case attracted much attention, partly because some of the families involved were well known in Sydney business and legal circles. Because the accused was a minor at the time of the accident, she could not be named, nor could her friends who gave evidence. Rumours, many quite wrong, spread about their identities and one website did disclose the names of two parents.
But the accident was newsworthy for other reasons: it involved so many young men and women, not just a group of friends, but every student at two prominent North Shore schools and many students at other schools across Sydney. Every parent in Sydney could empathise with the accident. It was the kind that every parent dreads, and many must face.
Anyone who saw the extensive coverage after the accident would have tried to push away those niggling, circular thoughts: Can I trust my kids? Where are they now? Why haven't they called like they promised?
In the aftermath, the Road Transport Act was amended in an effort to prevent a similar tragedy. It became an offence for any driver to carry passengers in a car boot, and an offence for drivers with L and P plates to carry more passengers than the available seatbelts.
Piecing together the story of the accident, the Herald set out to find other lessons, among them, about peer pressure, and about instant decisions we live to regret. Many facts about the accident were available from public statements and the court. We also sought out the friends and others connected with those involved. Many did not agree to speak, and a few raised strong objections.
What haunts them all is the accident at Mona Vale Road, in the early hours of April 12, 2003.
THE PARTY
On Sydney's North Shore, Queenwood School for Girls is blessed with panoramic views - yachts bob on their moorings at Balmoral Beach, Middle Harbour; beyond, Middle Head and North Head. Flower boxes enhance the beauty of manicured grounds.
Queenwood's motto is "per aspera ad astra" - through struggles to the stars - but the struggles of life seem distant in the tranquil suburbs of Balmoral and Mosman, home to many Queenwood girls.
In the first week of April last year, the only cloud ahead for the year 12 girls was the HSC, still seven months ahead. One of the brightest girls in the year was Sarah*. Well-travelled and confident, she was lucky enough to drive her own car, a Volkswagen Golf bought by her parents and registered in her name.
Among her friends was Emma*, who had joined Queenwood in kindergarten, Kirsty* and Chloe*. Through North Shore networks, the Queenwood girls knew boys from St Ignatius, Riverview, the Catholic boys' school in sprawling grounds by the river at Lane Cove.
During the first week of April, the girls were looking forward to a party at Ingleside for two Riverview boys, Ross Walsh, a first XV second-rower, and Angus Campbell, a champion rower. Both had recently turned 18, but delayed their celebration until the last day of term, Friday, April 11, a week before Good Friday.
The Queenwood principal, Kem Bray, was preparing for a three-week overseas holiday. At Riverview, the headmaster, Shane Hogan, relaxed as he saw the boarders drive off. "You always go 'phew!' " he said later. "There's about two weeks when they're not actually your responsibility."
That Friday, many boarders planned to attend the party, though they had to be at Central Station at six the next morning, bound for their country homes. Queenwood student Emma had a sports commitment the following day. She knew she couldn't drink alcohol that night.
After school, Chloe met Sarah at a hairdressing salon in McMahons Point. At a nearby bottleshop, they bought some party supplies - small bottles of the citrus-flavoured alcopop, Smirnoff Black Ice.
The four girls, Emma, Sarah, Kirsty and Chloe, travelled to Ingleside in Sarah's car. The magistrate who later heard the case against Emma described the seating arrangements. Sarah and Kirsty agreed that Kirsty would drive because Sarah had been drinking. The court heard that Sarah and Kirsty had alcoholic drinks in their hands as they left for the Walsh family home, at Cicada Glen Road, Ingleside.
Ingleside is a fair hike from the homes of most of the Queenwood girls. No one wanted to pay the $60 cab fare. Three other year 12 girls, Louisa*, Megan*, and Lauren* were also looking for a lift in Sarah's car but ended up going by cab. The girls were disappointed not to get a lift in Sarah's car. They had tried to arrange it, ringing Sarah on her mobile phone on her way to Ingleside. Although she was a passenger in her car, Sarah pretended to be in a cab. It was a childish ruse, with Kirsty in the background putting on an accent, and asking "$50" for the fare.
Sarah and the others in her car arrived at the gated entrance to the Walsh home at 10pm. Louisa, Megan and Lauren arrived about half an hour later, furious to see Sarah's VW in the driveway.
In evidence later, Emma said: "They were angry that we lied. They spent all their money on a cab, so they said we should give them a drive home ... They were putting so much pressure on us, Sarah felt obliged. I said to Megan and Louisa 'I'm really sorry we all lied to you.' "
Most of the 150 or so guests at the party were Riverview boys, among them, two mates, Sam Turner, 18, and Billy O'Connor, 17, both boarders in year 12, and both very popular at school.
Sam and Billy had recently celebrated Riverview's win in the GPS seconds tennis premiership and had both sat their trial HSC the day before the party. Sam was known as Mr Reliable. Until year 10, he was school captain at Mount Carmel School, in Yass, where his father owns a wholesale nursery. In 2001 Sam moved to Sydney to board with his uncle, Graeme Henson who regarded him as a son, while Henson's daughter, a year 12 Queenwood girl, thought of Sam as a brother.
At the start of April, Sam learnt he had been accepted for a gap-year job as a boarding school assistant in England. His mum and dad, Evelyn and Paul, and his sister, Sophie, wondered how they would cope when they were so far apart. Hogan, his headmaster, saw Sam as a natural leader.
Billy was one of many O'Connors from the Southern Tablelands township of Harden to attend Riverview, among them his older brothers, Luke and Josh, and his father, Peter. Billy was good at maths, as well as sports. Like Sam, he planned to go overseas for a year before university.
That Friday, Billy's dad, Peter, drove to Sydney, to stay with friends at Harbord. Next day, he planned to drive Billy and Sam to Canberra, to watch Billy's brothers play football.
The two Riverview boys decided to spend the night at the Walshes, but Sam changed his mind when he met up with Sarah at the party. They had dated briefly in year 10, but hadn't seen one another for more than a year. She was fond of Sam and later told police that she wanted to spend more time with him.
The booze ran out before the girls arrived at the party, but some guests, including the Queenwood friends, had their own supplies. Sarah, Kirsty and Chloe each drank three or four small bottles of Smirnoff Black Ice. About 11.30, Emma was alarmed to see Kirsty sitting on the front steps of the house, another drink in her hand. Although Kirsty promised, "I'm fine," Emma was not sure she could drive. Emma told the court, "I knew she wasn't drunk, but I didn't feel safe." Emma suggested to Sarah: "I think I should drive home." Sarah agreed.
The music was turned off at 12.30am. Half an hour later, Ross Walsh's parents were winding things up - calling taxis for the last of the stragglers. They went to bed while the crowd spilled onto the rain-soaked lawn. Some guests linked arms, laughing as they held one another up. It was slippery on the steep incline. Although she did not have her driver's licence with her, Emma offered to drive two year 11 Riverview boys to a nearby roundabout to catch a cab.
When she returned, the number of guests wanting a lift had grown. Sarah had offered Sam a lift back to her place. Sam wanted Billy to come along. Chloe was planning to go back to Sarah's as well. Emma beeped the horn, impatient to get going. Sarah and Sam walked down the slope to the car. Louisa and Billy followed. By now, more guests jostled for a space, some arguing, others warning against overloading the car. Lauren found another lift home. But that still left seven passengers - Sam, Billy, Sarah, Chloe, Kirsty, Louisa, and Megan.
Chloe sat in the front passenger seat. Megan and Louisa were the first to hop into the back. Rain was starting to fall again. Emma grew worried. She glanced at Sarah and mouthed "too many people". Sarah reassured her.
Later, Sarah told the court she "never had a problem" with passengers riding in the boot, and had allowed it at least twice before. Sarah offered to get in the hatch compartment, but Emma said, "If anything, boys get in the boot and the girls in the back."
Emma turned on the ignition. As she later told the court, "I didn't want people to think I was a loser" by fussing any more.
She had never driven a VW Golf before, and she was still a P-plate driver. Emma tested the brake and accelerator. They felt different from her mother's car which she usually drove.
Louisa, Megan, Sarah, and Kirsty were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the back seat, unrestrained by seat belts. Sam and Billy were tucked into the hatch compartment, facing one another. Billy's girlfriend, a year 12 student at Kincoppal, Rose Bay, begged him not to get into the hatch. He waved as the car drove off. Sam sat directly behind Louisa. She turned around and patted him on the head.
The eight teenagers drove into the night, described later by Hogan as "a dirty night ... wet and really heavy with rain".
THE ACCIDENT
As they approached Mona Vale Road, Emma felt chilly. She stopped the car, and pulled on her jacket. The rain splashed heavily on the windscreen. Emma turned down the radio and switched on the air-conditioning to clear the fogged-up glass. Ten metres before a left-hand bend, the speedometer showed 70kmh. Emma applied the brakes slowly and lightly. She glanced at the clock. It was 1.17am.
Ahead was as a straight stretch of downhill road. Coming out of the corner, Emma tried to straighten the car. To her horror, she couldn't steer. As Emma tried frantically to correct, she cried: "It's not me. It's not me ... " Megan yelled: "Stop, stop, stop, stop." Emma screamed: "I'm not doing this on purpose. I can't control the wheels."
The car swerved left-right-left, then spun 180 degrees to the side of the road. It hit the sandstone guttering, then ricocheted 20 metres backwards, slamming into a pole. As the boot collapsed, Billy was thrown onto the road. Chloe remained conscious but heard nothing. Sarah lost consciousness on the impact.
Kirsty felt the swerves in slow motion, the girls in the back, their arms around one another sliding forward. She tried to open the doors. They wouldn't budge. Louisa had locked the door near her, back in the Walsh driveway, to stop even more people squeezing into the car.
Kirsty forced open a door, walked around the back, and saw Sam, still in the hatch compartment. She reached to feel his pulse. There was none.
Kirsty set out, along the unlit road, looking for Billy. Not far away, she found him. Like Sam, he had died instantly from head injuries.
Emma was slumped over the driver's seat and couldn't move. Kirsty prised open the driver's door, and with another girl, pulled out Emma. Chloe climbed through a window, and started to run. She waved down a taxi and the driver called police and ambulance.
Diane Lennon, a 22-year-old constable, and Senior Constable John McManus, from Dee Why police station, heard the call on the police radio. When they arrived, about 2am, Emma was crying hysterically. " I'm a murderer, " she sobbed. "I've killed someone." Emma looked at Billy on the roadway. She asked the policewoman ,"Will I go to jail for this?" Lennon said: "You are not a murderer."
Kirsty called her parents, the other girls' parents, the mobiles of friends at the party. Ambulances took the girls to Royal North Shore and Mona Vale hospitals. Louisa was bruised. Sarah woke up in hospital in a neck brace. Kirsty had broken her collarbone. Megan had broken her ankle.
THE BROKEN HOLIDAY
News of the crash spread in moments. The network of friends punched out the news on their mobiles. The girls called the boys, who called Mark McGinnity, the boarding master at Riverview. McGinnity nearly didn't take the call. It was 2.10am. Must have been the boys, playing up. Instead, he heard, "There's been an accident ..."
McGinnity called Hogan, who got to the Walshes at 2.40am, along with McGinnity and the year 12 master, Neil Mushan. About 15 boys were still there. Some had left, then returned, when they heard the news.
"The kids were just beside themselves," said Hogan, "so distressed at that stage." Mushan went down to the accident scene to help identify the boys through their wallets: "We told the boys at the party who were speaking on their mobiles, 'Don't say anything. By 7 o'clock, the school will make an announcement as to when we can all get together and talk it through.'
"Billy's father was in Sydney waiting for him. That was a worry, that someone would be ringing ... we were pushing the police to notify the parents, because everybody knew who [had] died. But the police ... have a process they go through."
In Yass, a car pulled up at the Turners about 4.30am. Paul Turner later told Hogan that "he knew, before he got to the door, he just knew it was the police".
Hogan, McGinnity and Mushan "sat for a long time ... 'til about 6 o'clock, trying to get the boys at the party to go home".
The three men then contacted all the boys in year 12, and the Old Boys Union. "We got it on the website by half past 7. We assembled here at school at 7. I rang the other directors and leaders of the school, and by midday there were 600 people in the chapel."
Riverview's two counsellors "phoned as many counsellors as they knew in Sydney to gather. We had a debriefing about 11. When the boys arrived, there was tea and coffee and rooms were open, so they could sit with a counsellor or one of the staff members or ... in groups, as they did. Lots of girls turned up."
The feeling was "how could it happen to us ... to Billy and Sam? It was more disbelief, and absolute out-and-out grieving."
At Queenwood, principal Bray was still in Sydney when the staff gathered for an emergency meeting on Saturday morning. Queenwood had a crisis management plan for just such an eventuality. Two year 12 groups were involved, both in shock: Sam's cousin and her friends, and the four girls in the car.
Bray and the Queenwood staff made it clear they would not judge. Their role was to look after all the students. Later, Queenwood referred the girls to two sets of psychologists, at the Coroners Court and Royal North Shore Hospital.
The day after the accident, a group of Riverview boys went to the pole where their mates had died. They pinned a Riverview jersey on the pole along with a message to Sam and Billy: "You'll live in our hearts forever, all our love, from the View Boys."
On Tuesday, year 12 was on the way to Harden and Yass. "Two hundred and thirty boys," said Hogan, "plus parents, then the staff, and choir, younger kids."
JERUSALEM
The O'Connors, well known in the district, are part of the farming community of Harden, rather than the town. Julie O'Connor, Billy's mother, runs a landscape design business.
In this part of the world, "people know every little thing", said Father Joseph Tran, the parish priest at Harden. "It's a very small town. So the death of two young ones affects us very strongly. It was a huge, packed funeral ... It was very touching and people came from the town and places like Yass and Coota."
Billy's funeral was held on Wednesday morning, at St Anthony's. Slides of his young life, from his toddler years, were shown. The church overflowed with mourners, with students not only from Riverview, but from Loreto, St Vincent's, Kincoppal and Queenwood, said Hogan. "The boys will never forget it. They formed a guard of honour and sang Jerusalem. It's their war cry for football. It was very powerful. You are physically and emotionally exhausted and you had to do it all again in the afternoon."
At Yass, the Mass was shared by Father Laurie Bent and a young Jesuit priest who had known Sam at Riverview. More than 1000 attended the funeral at St Augustine's Catholic Church.
Hogan remembers the singing, the way it "bounced off the town, the hills, the kids' voices; it was amazing, and the kids were weeping".
"Two funerals in one day is - incredible emotional strength. I've said to the boys many times, and to their parents, their lives are cemented together forever."
In the Queenwood school newsletter, the acting principal, James Harpur, comforted with Ecclesiastes: "To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." The accident, he wrote, "confronted us all with the fragility of life ... although the school was not directly involved in the accident, our response was swift and all the girls who were affected in any way received, and will continue to receive, our full support."
The Metropolitan Crash Unit investigated the accident. At North Sydney police station, on May 16, Emma was charged with two counts of driving in a dangerous manner, causing the deaths of Sam and Billy. She was also charged in the alternative with negligent driving and with failing to provide particulars. She pleaded not guilty to all charges and was released on bail.
THE AFTERMATH
At Queenwood, the grief was raw among the year 12 girls. Some were supported by Jeff Crumpton, director of the Department of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, based at Royal North Shore Hospital. Said Crumpton: "When it comes to trauma, and the responses of teens, the most normal reaction is 'well, shit happened, and I don't want to deal with it'. They [the young people] are trying to organise their day-to-day functions with awful memories and images coming at them. Trying to get through the day is awful enough without someone trying to say, 'sit down and tell me what happened to you'.
"When you are an adolescent, you think you are pretty much bulletproof. So when something does happen, it is profoundly challenging ... Traumatic grief is a particularly difficult and dangerous kind of grief to deal with. When the [Queenwood] girls were coming to see me," he said, "it was their last year of school, and a profoundly emotional step for them, to think they were going to lose their connections, part of their family was going to disappear."
Crumpton said the accident caused ripple effects in the wider community including students from other schools. " [There] is networking, particularly in these private schools. They all get the same buses and ferries, they all live in the same area and the level of communication is high."
Gossip and stories about the accident spread. Emotions ran high. Crumpton counselled one boy from another private school who was acutely suicidal when he heard about the accident. "He was referred to us because he was about to hang himself in the garage."
As some of the boy's friends had died in other accidents, "he felt he was positively lethal, because he knew these boys ... felt that he was a very dangerous person to be around - he felt that everyone around him was dying ...
"He settled down after counselling - but his parents didn't realise how profoundly he'd been affected by these previous things."
At Riverview, the year 12 boys seemed adrift. "They lost three months of their life in the grieving process," said Hogan.
In September the school won its sixth GPS rugby title in 110 years. Riverview dedicated the victory to Sam and Billy. The HSC was still to come, and Riverview "worked them very hard. The busier they were, the better they were ... it was tough for them to be compared [against other schools]. That being said, the school went well."
The six Queenwood girls in the accident also did well in their HSC. Two were offered places at the University of Sydney, and one each at Macquarie, Wollongong, UNSW and Southern Cross University. Two of the six enrolled in media studies.
THE COURT
Few families have the financial resources or connections to assemble a legal team like Emma's. With advice from a Queenwood parent who is also a judge, Emma's family were assisted by a partner in a big city law firm, Baker & McKenzie. The partner briefed Desmond Fagan, SC, whose junior was Chris Hoy.
Emma's supporters clustered around her, with Sam Turner's parents sitting on the opposite side of the courtroom, in front of the journalists.
Every day, TV cameramen were waiting outside the children's court.
On day two, Fagan successfully applied to have witnesses expelled from the court because their presence was upsetting Emma.
Outside the court, reporters saw the tensions that had grown between the Queenwood friends. Emma, sobbing, running out of the courtroom confronted Kirsty: "Stop lying." Kirsty replied: "I'm not allowed to talk to you." Emma responded: "Do you understand how hard this is for me? I was never going to drive that night and you know that."
The police prosecutor, Gary Charlesworth, had argued that Emma should be held accountable for driving with unbelted passengers. But on the final day, the magistrate, Elaine Truscott, dismissed three charges, leaving only one, negligent driving causing death. After hearing evidence, Truscott dismissed that charge, too. "In my view," said Truscott, "she is no more morally or legally culpable than anyone else who occupied the vehicle for the events that unfolded that night."
After the committal hearing, there was some media comment on whether Emma had got off lightly.
It is difficult to compare the outcome of her case with others, as neither the Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research nor the Department of Juvenile Justice collects data on committal hearings. Emma did not plead guilty, so the only statistics for comparison are the number of young people whose cases go to trial.
Figures from the bureau for drivers under 20 show that from 1998 to 2002, there were 48 charges of driving causing death listed for trial. Of those found guilty, 17 went to jail, two were given home detention, six served time in a juvenile institution, two received periodic detention, three were given a suspended sentence and three a community service order.
Although she never faced trial, Emma has to live with the question: why did I drive that night?
Whatever she is suffering, though, is little compared with the agony of the boys' parents. Billy's mother, Julie, seems to have forgiven. She told the Herald: "I don't think she had done anything wrong. I felt sorry for her. It was an ... incident we'd all been dragged into."
Others have found it harder to forgive. No one will forget.
One week after the death of his son, Paul Turner spoke of his love for Sam. But he spoke, as well, to others. "It helps that he is always with us. He is an angel, and we just had him on loan. We just want to tell parents to spend time with their kids. You just do not know."
* Not their real names. The names of accused and witnesses appearing in the Children's Court cannot be used. [/l]
its like 1 year ago... can't they stop mentioning it and let us move on?
from: http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2004/05/14/1084289895119.html#
