Its funny how you’ll see the icon of an emerging new social trend. An ABC cadet journo on her first day on the job in Hobart, stomping along the busy footpath with headphones chanelling music to her alert brain.
Back in the newsroom, I put it to her.
‘Yer lucky there wasn’t a shoot-out between cops and robbers darl, you wouldn’t have heard a bloody thing.”
‘What shoot-out?’
Cadet-training was the buzz at the time. New faces coming in from Sydney-trainees. Not like the old days when a local kid was thrown in at the deep-end, expected to already know the ropes and probably sent on the first day to interview the Premier.
Yep it was a trend. The human radar of news instinct and curiosity receding; less tweaking of the fine-tuner; more cadets from afar who knew it all; younger, cheaper to hire; Tassie no more than a training ground; the starter’s gun; fill up the spaces; tune the weekend radar to party-time. Cry, the beloved profession. Judge a service not by what’s in the news, but what’s not. What the people don’t know won’t hurt ‘em.
Well that’s what I told all the people in the pub, pissed off at not hearing about the punch up and the cops and ambo’s tearing about, lights flashing. It went on for hours. Cops still processing the gangsters until the late hour. That was date-line Triabunna, Friday, February 10, 2006. Yeah, that’s right last Friday night. Nah, nah, wasn’t in the news. Nah, ABC either. Wish it was, save me repeating the bloody story. No, no, I can’t give the official facts, I certainly don’t intend calling the poor buggers up and probing: they’re all on the edge of retirement down here; too bloody old for the shit they’ve got to put with today. They don’t want a retired, hack journo calling them up with what happened, where, why and how. The best I can do it to piece it all together with what I saw and what I was told. OK?
No, no. I was having a beer at the Spring Bay pub … yeh, Triabunna, good little pub, no pokies. I was with friends and one of them got a call from a daughter, ‘mum, get out of Triabunna, something really bad’s happening here!”
No, no bullshit, when she told me, I thought a bunch of terro’s had come in on a woodchip boat and were letting us know how vulnerable we are down here.
Smashing the hell out of a van
Anyway her mum said to me, ‘there’s about 6 kids just up the road with block-busters and smashing the hell out of a van … they’re all about 10 years old … and there’s cops all over the place!’
So we thought we’d go home just in case these kids went on a rampage and visited the Springy car park. As we neared the service station in the main road, we saw another commotion, but not where the kids were supposed to be smashing cars. No, no, this is about 6 pm. There were three police cars, all lit up and an ambo; a bloke stripped to his waste, we found out later he’d been capsicummed. There were bloody kids on the street everywhere and we thought the uprising had begun … but as we found out they were only looking, like us. As we drove home, two cop cars screamed past us, then an ambo and we stopped at the Bluey in Orford as another cop car screamed past. Just then a tourist pulled up and told us that all hell was breaking loose on Paradise Gorge; a car had wiped out and cops were into crowd control. The pub was all abuzz with curiosity and suppressing alarm, some thinking that maybe there was a terrorist attack.
We were having a quiet one when a young bloke, whom we knew came in; his eyes were as red and swollen like a rabbit with myxo. Jesus, what happened to you? Capsicum spray. Jesus it stings and I just got the tail end of it. How come? Buck (that’s the Orford cop) had four or five against him and I had to jump in and lend a hand. Good shit, mate, you’re a bloody hero. How is he? Got a bit of a thumping, but he’s up the road now taking on another mob. Jesus, this is the Carowa break-out. Do they want a hand? No, cops have come in from Swansea and Hobart. She’s full on. They had Mick (Triabunna local cop) bailed up in his car. Five of the pricks trying to get him out and bash him. Jesus, who are they? All I know is there’s about 16 of them.
Carloads came up to sort somebody out. That’s all I know. Jesus, me eyes.
So, that’s all I know. Cops still about the place, taking forensic evidence and stuff. Nah, that’s all I know, most of it second hand, so don’t take it for gospel. Nah, I’ll send a quick tip-off to The Mercury. They might pick it up for the Sunday.
ABC always do the police round ring-up, they’ll have it for sure. Gotta go. Going to Buckland with The Lions for a sheep-shit day. No, The Lions, Lions Club. Yeah cheers, stay tuned. You should hear all about it in the news. Well, you should. Its had a dozen cops and ambos tide up for 12 bloody hours. You should.
