Angela Mollard: This is the face of tragedy, and her story stays with me

Protecting the public matters more than anything else, more than personal freedom, more than fears of increased criminality or recidivism due to being locked up, writes Angela Mollard.

Emma Lovell, pictured with husband Lee Lovell. Source: Facebook.

One of the perils of journalism is becoming hardened. You report on the most horrible things, sit with people at their most broken and then you move on. There is always another story.

But some stay with you.

For me, it’s the distraught parents of a young boy sent home by a hospital who failed to diagnose he had meningitis.

The couple returned home and tucked him into bed between them.

Hours later they turned on the light to discover he was covered in a raging red rash. He died soon after.

Emma Lovell.

Lee Lovell leaves court after a youth pleaded guilty to the murder of his wife.

Often I think of Jenny Blake, the former Farmer Wants A Wife contestant, who I’ve interviewed many times, most notably when her sister Kim, nephew Fletcher and nieces Mia and Phoebe were murdered by their father at their home near Wagga Wagga.

Recently Jenny posted the most beautiful video of her own children jumping across hay bales as the sun set. How heartbreaking that their cousins, just 6, 8 and 10, are frozen forever in photographs, never to know that life, that freedom.

And then there’s Lee Lovell, who this week learned that his wife Emma’s killer had committed 84 offences yet had not spent a single night in custody when he murdered the young mum after breaking into the family’s Queensland home on Boxing Day in 2022.

Recently I spent a couple of hours talking with Lee.

He’s a good man, a great dad. And he loved his wife so much.

You can tell by the way he says her name; the way his voice catches when he says that he’ll see something funny on his phone and go to send it to Emma and then realise she’s not here.

I know Lee was hoping that this week’s sentencing of the youth who can’t be named would be tough and reflect the loss he and his two daughters, Scarlett and Kassie, are enduring.

The 14-year sentence with a non-parole period of almost 10 years is one of the longest prison terms issued to a juvenile offender but as Lee says, “it was never going to be enough, it is never going to bring her back”.

Instead, Lee, who was also stabbed that night and has a scar which still itches, says he and his daughters will be the ones left with a life sentence.

Stories like the Lovells make us angry.

They make us rail at institutional ineptitude, weak justice and those who tip-toe around the perpetrators with their sad loveless childhoods.

We rightly worry that political correctness has taken hold, about the growing culture of no consequences and the future of a world where a young criminal can offend 80-plus times but still be roaming the streets. We make it political and we should. Not just because it gives us someone to blame but because power comes with responsibility.

Bruce and Denise Morcombe have honoured their son Daniel with a foundation committed to keeping other children safe.

Emma Lovell’s killer had repeatedly breached probation orders even as he underwent court-ordered sessions in a program called Changing Habits and Reaching Targets.

Clearly, the habits weren’t changed and the targets weren’t met. Was it the program? Or was the teen beyond repair?

Growing up with a mum who worked with underprivileged kids, I was raised to see the bigger picture, to show empathy and try to understand the circumstances that lead people to become bad.

I’ve wrestled with that perspective for decades, particularly over sexual assault cases.

So often the perpetrator has been a victim themselves.

But I’ve been a journalist too long, I’ve seen too much. And where I’ve landed is this.

Protecting the public matters more than anything else, more than personal freedom, more than fears of increased criminality or recidivism due to being locked up.

Laws are there to protect lawlessness. It’s why we must use them and enforce them.

Further, those who’ve suffered the searing pain of having a loved one’s life extinguished in wrenching circumstances ache forever.

‘LOSS IN MY BONES’

As the mother of a murdered man told me, in the early days after her son’s death there was a split second upon waking without pain. It was the moment before full consciousness, before her synapses kicked in and the new day brought with it the brutal truth. As she told me: “Loss has set up home in my bones”.

Recently I’ve been drawn to the philosophy of the Stoics, particularly their view on habituating yourself with mortality.

If we square up to death, believing it can come at any time, we not only become more comfortable with it but value our lives more.

To quote Seneca: “Whatever can happen at any time can happen today.”

But how do you reconcile that view if you’re Lee Lovell or the families of those stabbed at Westfield Bondi Junction last month?

Being philosophical is all very well until it intersects with something so senseless.

Finally, I believe those who do find a peace of sorts almost always have a purpose.

They’re people like Bruce and Denise Morcombe who have honoured their son Daniel with a foundation committed to keeping other children safe.

As for us, we need to remember those lost, speak their names and honour their time in this fragile world.

Originally published as Angela Mollard: This is the face of tragedy, and her story stays with me