Lady Justice Podcast: Ex-prison officer tells how Molotov cocktail was thrown at family home

Prison officer Jane Lohse reveals what happened when an evil ex-inmate tracked her down to her family home. Listen to the gripping Lady Justice podcast.

The darkened living room stunk like fuel.

Broken glass covered the floor.

There, on the singed carpet, lay the glass vodka bottle, stuffed with a trail of blue fabric soaked in accelerant – the ends blackened and charred.

Prison officer Jane Lohse froze. This was a bomb site and she was the target – the only problem was her assailant’s ‘Molotov cocktail’ toolkit was faulty and had extinguished before it could do real damage.

“It was winter, I think it was July, and the front room was closed because of the heating business. My husband had ducked out for something and my neighbour came up and said, “Your front window’s broken …” Mrs Lohse told News Corp’s Lady Justice podcast.

“I opened the door and all we could smell was accelerant, like an aircraft fuel type smell. The curtains were down, the window was broken and there was a Molotov cocktail on the floor.

“It had obviously gone out because it had just hit the carpet, which, by the way, was brand new. But the end had been lit because it had a blue fabric shoved into it and the end was charred.

“I did hear anecdotally later that [the offender] had actually nearly got burned throwing it. So that got a bit close for comfort.”

Former prison officer Jane Lohse had a molotov cocktail thrown through her window.. Picture: Ryan Osland

The grandmother with a neat blonde bob may seem an unlikely target but working at Lithgow Maximum Security Prison, west of Sydney, is a sure-fire way to mix with the wrong crowd.

Now, a particularly thuggish inmate who’d taken a dislike to her as a prison officer, had served his sentence, been released — and found out where she lived.

“It’s not hard to figure out where someone lives in a small town,” Mrs Lohse said, who at the time lived nearby the prison in Lithgow.

The first indication something was amiss was a broken fence at her neighbour’s property.

The neighbour knew the young man’s identity, a recent ex-prisoner who had been associating with her son.

“[The neighbour] used to say she’d see him parked across the road from my house. And then, The former prisoner would often see Mrs Lohse and yell out obscenities or growl in a menacing fashion.

“I used to be able to sometimes, it’s strange … I used to sense if he was around. I used to have to duck into shops to hide if he was coming along the footpath, things like that,” she said.

The stalking and harassment continued but local police didn’t seem interested in taking action.

Even after years of working in maximum security men’s prisons, dealing with Australia’s most dangerous criminals, Mrs Lohse was becoming increasingly rattled.

The threat had spilt outside the prison walls and into the personal — and now Mrs Lohse was a sitting duck in her own home.

“It greatly affected my family, actually. My husband took to sleeping with a firearm under the bed, which I didn’t know about, and he was quite prepared to use it if he had to. And down the track work even offered me a side-arm for my own protection,” Mrs Lohse said.

Once her home had been firebombed, however, Mrs Lohse presented police with a diary log of incidents of harassment and law enforcement finally sat up and paid attention.

Jane Lohse during her time as a NSW correctional officer. Picture: Supplied

Ms Lohse being put through training. Picture: Supplied

“Apparently, [the ex-prisoner also] tried to firebomb someone else’s house the same night, a drug dealer sort of up the street. So the police did a great job. They actually got footage from the local bottle shop where the vodka bottle that was used had been bought. And the only thing they couldn’t get was DNA or fingerprints.

“The police took out an AVO on my behalf, a Personal Violence Order. Work was very good, though, very supportive. They put security measures and cameras all around the house sensors, unbeknown to me,” Mrs Lohse, who has retired from her work as a correctional officer, said.

The measures worked. Her attacker backed off.

It wasn’t long before he was back in custody for another unrelated offence, involving a shooting in northwest Sydney.

However, Mrs Lohse still hears through the grapevine he still asks after her.

“How’s Miss Jane going?” he’ll say provocatively to her former colleagues.

But Mrs Lohse doesn’t let it ruffle her feathers.

She’s since moved to northern NSW and knows if her former inmate ever gets close she’ll be able to spot him.

To hear Jane Lohse’s full podcast interview about life as a correctional officer, go to ladyjusticepodcast.com.au