In one case, the headmaster was condemned for having dismissed a teacher after receiving a complaint of abuse against him, but allowing him to stay on for some weeks till the end of term, so that he could leave without disgrace. Archbishop Aspinall described this as a ‘cover-up’. The truth was that the teacher was the son-in-law of a member of the school council; Charles Elliott was a leading Brisbane stockbroker and a close personal friend of the then Archbishop of Brisbane, Philip Strong. The archbishop was chairman of the school council, and it quickly found a solution to the problem of a potential scandal at the school: the teacher would leave quietly at the end of term and join the Elliott stockbroking firm!
On that evidence, no court would find the headmaster guilty, yet he has been judged solely responsible.
Luck, G. (wizz yours is bad); extracted from the serendipitously titled Built on a Foundation of Lies ; Quadrant 10 April 2017
Geoffrey Luck and his band of merry boys clearly suffer from an incurable case of what old Doc Claxton the SP bookie and some time MD from Geebung used to call old school tie myopia, for they can’t see what is staring the rest of us in the face and stands out like over-sized dogs balls.
Just because a pedophile’s wife’s old man wears a pinstriped suit and walks around all day carrying scrip, and is mates with the Archbishop, doesn’t make it all right to stage the pedophile’s exit over a number of weeks.
The bloke’s a kiddy fiddling creep and criminal who poses a clear and present risk to every boy in the schoolyard 60 seconds a minute, 60 minutes an hour, 24 hours a day, seven days a week , 52 weeks a year, a hundred years every century.
The phrase child protection means actually keeping kids safe from harm. You can’t do that while there is an incorrigible child molesting rapist in children’s midst, no matter who the monster’s daddy in-law may be, He should have been frog-marched to the front gate and hurled head first into the gutter at the shiny-booted feet of waiting police, not politely had his fucked up fetish for pre-pubescent boys hushed up to avoid a whiff of scandal old chap.
These short-sighted, and quite frankly dangerously foolish, wanna be Peter Pan fops defending the bloke that used to cane them on the arse by invoking a circa 18th century-style argument that :It just wouldn’t do to call a pedophile a pervert in polite and well-bred society old chap, and we must think of the great name of the old alma mater” are achieving nothing but making themselves look like the imbeciles who believe that its okay to cover up child abuse that they are.
What’s worse is that they are lying through their bloody teeth.
The sicko that they are sticking up for is a bloke who goes by the quite pompous name of Hamilton William Nation Leslie and was a teacher at Churchie from the start of the 1950’s all the way through to 1968 when the cover-up defended by the octogenarian Luck and his dandy dressing faux latin scholar lawyer mate Tony Morris took place.
Some people might try to tell you that Leslie was at the school for only a few years. Don’t believe them. They are either sadly ignorant and misled, or they’re bloody liars, and it doesn’t matter which because what comes out of the end of the sausage mincer is still the same either way. Complete and utter bullshit.
Just like the story that Luck, Morris et al are attempting to spin you.
Hamilton Leslie didn’t get the bullet from Churchie for touching up the students. You didn’t get the sack for such a trifling misdemeanor as that under the Eton in 1676 replica regime of headmaster Harry Roberts, the bloke that the little old boys seek to posthumously deify.
Oh no, Hammy didn’t deserve or get the sack simply for sucking a little boy’s dick . That silly nonsense can and was on numerous occasions glossed over, and anyway he’d been puting predatory love bites on pre-pubescent students at the school since at least 1961, and so many years on unbridled but-tingling turn ons had passed since Leslie first tickled his fancy and 13 year old boys balls that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were soon going to be landing on the Moon.
I wonder if they said g’day to Geoffrey Luck and Tony Morris when they arrived?
No, Hammy did not get handed a post dated pink slip by Roberts because he was a pedophile/=. That story being peddled is deliberately false and absolutely untrue.
The real reason that Hamilton William Nation Leslie was required to leave the exlusive school was because one lunch time in the spring of 1957 he ducked into town for the express purpose of visiting an old public toilet block in Eagle Street, which you would probably think was a decidedly odd thing to do if you didn’t know that the dilapidated old dunnies just so happened to also be a well-known gay pickup beat frequented by young men of the type salivated over by old pervs like Leslie.
He must have been excited too our Hammy for the moment that he arrived he immediately put the hard word on a likely young man to join him in performing a one or two of what were in those dark ages of inequality were highly illegal homosexual sex acts. Unfortunately for Leslie though the young hottie he was keen to dance the reverse polka with turned out to be an undercover copper, and before he could even get his dick out the schoolteacher had been pinched for soliciting another to engage in acts of indecency.
Even more unfortunately for the undercover copper and his mate, who was waiting in a nearby parked car, the inexperienced offer put the hard word back on Hammy, but rather than asking the stockbroker’s son-in-law to suck him off, the police officer took advantage of the highly embarrassed degree-wielding deviant’s vulnerable state and hit him up for a cash bribe of a hundred bucks.
Hamilton William Nation Leslie paid it too, but he obviously whinged about it at the kiddy fiddlers club’s weekly meeting of the ring, and then word got back to the pedophile crowd’s Rat Pack police protectors and all hell rained down on the plain clothes pricks who’d tried to pick corrupt police officers Tony Murphy and Terry Lewis’ pockets by muscling in on the highly lucrative well oiled extortion and bribery racket they called The Joke.
It was a bad move by the cocky and clearly crooked young coppers, and Murphy and Lewis threw the charge book at them, and then arranged for them to appear before an onside judge who loved nothing better than his own monthly slice of the back handed cash, and was really annoyed at these c*nts of constables who had tried to relieve him of his rightful share of the payola.
So annoyed in fact that he smashed them with a sledgehammer wrapped in the sentencing book and sent the sinners off for a 5 year stint breaking rocks in Boggo Road. That’d bloody teach them wouldn’t it?
Sadly though the highly public lesson Murphy and Lewis taught the hundred buck scamming pair and everyone else who might have had a stray thought or two about pulling their own stooges meant that Mr Leslie the schoolteacher from East Brisbane couldn’t have his charge sheet ignited with a match and thrown to the wind as he would in regular circumstances upon receipt by the Rat Pack representatives of an appropriate sized was of untraceable used bank notes in small denominations.
They’d charged their capricious young colleagues, so they had to charge Hamilton William Nation Leslie too, and although an arrangement was reached with all concerned whereby his judicial sanction was certain to be a slap over his limp wrist with a wet bus ticket, it was the shared view that sadly there was no way they could safely pull any sort of swifty that would save the lust-driven school master with the bad judgement’s job.
An accommodation was however reached between the parties, and while the amount of untraceable cash in used bank notes in small denominations that changed hands is unknown, what is a matter of public record is that the soon to be ex-schoolmaster’s case was cleverly and deliberately delayed for 10 months, and thus Leslie was free to continue working at Churchie for the next three terms unhindered by anything than his own unhinged and deeply deviant sexual desires, and so it wasn’t until the mid-winter July break in the next school year of 1968 that Hammy toddled off to Daddy in-law’s firm so under the totally ingenuous pretext of career-shifting to become a bonds broker at the top end of town.
Former school master Leslie actually never quite made it to Queen Street – he probably got side tracked at the Eagle Street toilets – and ended up as a shopkeeper in New Farm, but that’s a yarn we’ll tell another day.
The story here is that Geoffrey Luck and Tony Morris are a nothing more than a pair of emotionally underdeveloped bullshit artists who are selling you hot air and trying to send you and the truth off and out of sight down the river.
The worst of it though is that they tried to pull their craven three coconut trick right under the watchful of your humble correspondent – moi – and for some absurd reason thought that by baffle and bluff and bogus claims of court record research thought that they’d get away with it.
There’s just no accounting for some wrinkled little boater wearing bovver boys who wuv Mr Woberts stupidity is there?
A word of advice for next time old chaps.
Pull the other one.It jingles.
That’ll be a hundred bucks thanks fellas.
Now I must dash and vault up and on eagle’s wing, dashed ding-dong schoolbell’s about to ring.
Two last words of advice before I leap onto the flappers of the magnificent winged beast and soar back to the glory days of my beloved school years past.
And avoid Eagle Street like the plague.
Harry can’t hush things up for you there.