David Penberthy: How can one street contain so much violence?
As the parent of two teenagers, there’s one thing that has become painfully evident to me this week. If we want our children to make it home safely, we have to keep them away from Hindley Street, writes David Penberthy.
As the parent of two teenagers, I am not a fan of hard and fast rules for raising young adults.
My view is that the best way to let them develop is to have frank conversations about the pitfalls of adult life, give them parameters to make informed decisions about alcohol, drugs, how they socialise, the company they keep, and with any luck, they will get through OK.
Having said that, I am increasingly of the view that, as a South Australian parent, there is one rule worth implementing.
You are not allowed to go to Hindley Street after midnight.
By all means, go to the Jerusalem for a plate of falafel with some friends. Go to Imprints, that plucky bookstore that has striven for more than 30 years to shift the complexion of the street beyond beer and boobs, and stock up on quality reads.
Go to Hindley Street for a drink at any number of pubs in the afternoon, or early evening. But when the clock strikes 12, get the hell out.
Our community has seen enough of what passes for fun on this squalid stretch in the small hours. It is clear that, well after dark, Hindley Street quickly descends into a charmless, unsalvageable dump, where the statistics show you are more likely to be punched, abused, sexually assaulted or spewed on than any stretch of road in the state.
In the mayhem stakes, Hindley Street has been literally punching above its weight for years. Its unmatched capacity as the pre-eminent venue for life-altering and life-ending tragedy was confirmed this week in the final chapter of one of the most miserable court cases our state has seen.
The DPP signalled this week it would not appeal against the manslaughter acquittal of accused coward-punch killer, 22-year-old Reece Watherston. Watherston said he was acting in self-defence.
The judgment has devastated the family of the victim, Jack Hanley, also 22, who lost his life in an altercation outside the convenience store on the corner of Hindley and Morphett streets at 5.20am — yep, 5.20am — on December 10, 2017.
The 101-page judgment by Justice Anne Bampton, in what was a judge-only trial, makes compelling reading.
One of the most compelling features is how utterly smashed almost every key protagonist was on the morning Hanley died. Justice Bampton notes that while some of the witnesses may have been deliberately evasive, finessing their evidence to protect their mates, it is also likely they were so addled by drugs and alcohol that they genuinely had no idea what happened that morning.
Jack Hanley’s then-flatmate James Ward told the court he had drunk “three or four” glasses of wine before heading into town. He had also taken “three or four, maybe five caps” of MDMA, or ecstasy. Ward said he was not aware, but assumed, that Jack Hanley had also taken MDMA on that night because they “had done it before and we were going out, so usually we have them before we are going out”.
Later, at the HQ nightclub, where there was a two-for-$15 deal that night on the canned vodka drink Smirnoff Double Black (which is 1.9 standard drinks), James Ward told the court he drank “eight or nine” cans.
Another of Hanley’s friends, Mitchell Blackie, told the court that he had “three or four” cans of pre-mixed spirits and “two or three” caps of MDMA at Hanley and Ward’s apartment. At HQ, Blackie had “about 10” Double Blacks and another “three or four” caps of MDMA. That’s up to seven ecstasy tablets and 25 standard drinks.
Another witness, Harry McCarthy, who was partying with the accused Reece Watherston and four other mates that night, said he was drinking “beers, vodka, a bit of everything” when they met at the Electric Circus nightclub. He told the court he had “possibly” taken MDMA, also “a bit of cocaine”, and that he had bought some “nossies” — nitrous oxide bulbs — and inhaled the disorienting gas from a plastic bag while standing near the Morphett Street cab rank.
Another of Watherston’s friends, Joshua Felice, also gave evidence, telling the court he’d had nine pre-mixed vodka drinks.
On and on it goes.
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Against this backdrop, it’s hard to see how you could prove anything beyond reasonable doubt. The clincher for Justice Bampton was her discovery of two key video frames which, in her view, appeared to show Mr Hanley “punch toward a figure with blonde hair”, who may have been the accused. Justice Bampton found the prosecution could not prove Watherston wasn’t acting in self-defence and the defence couldn’t definitively prove he was.
On that basis, Watherston was acquitted. It is a judgment that is horrible for the Hanley family. It is also correct in law.
The court also heard from a completely unrelated passer-by named Andrew Miller who was driving the first vehicle at the Hindley and Morphett Street Bridge intersection as the brawl ensued. Mr Miller filmed the imbroglio on Snapchat, and sections of his footage were pivotal in the trial.
His account of what he saw that morning is bracing, chiefly because it describes a wholly relatable scene that any of our kids could have wandered into had they been there on Hindley Street at 5.20am that day.
“Mr Miller could not recall how many people were involved, “maybe seven or eight” males. He said that “at the ending” he saw “some punches getting thrown, a few shirts getting ripped around”.
He said that “the victim sort of jumped out of the scuffle and it looked like it was just finished and then the last guy come out of, sort of, just out of the pack and punched the other guy”. He said the victim “received a punch and he could not restrain his fall and his head hit flush on the ground”.
He said that the man’s arms stayed by his side as he fell. He said that the punch looked like it was thrown with all force possible, “it came from behind (his) body and a whole weight was thrown behind it with force”. Mr Miller said that he heard a “sickening thud” when the man’s head hit the ground.
The end.
Damn this street.