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The picture above was taken in 1984, and features in the annual St Paul’s School commemorative magazine of that year.

The man in the picture on the far right is Father Thomas ‘Tom’ Treherne.

Treherne is an Anglican Priest.

At the time the picture was taken he was the School Chaplain at St Paul’s.

I knew him well, for I was an altar boy and brought him the consecrated body and blood of Christ almost every day at communion when I was 13 and 14 years old.

Back then I imagined Treherne to be a wonderful bloke, and had such trust in him that I overcame my fear of being labeled a poofter and told him about the sexual crimes that had been perpetrated against me.

He told me that I was a liar.

Soon after the Headmaster contacted my Mum and told her that I was at risk of losing my scholarship to attend the school due to my poor behavior. At the time I was a near straight A’s student, the captain of the cricket and soccer teams, an academic excellence prize recipient, and a leader of the school’s community service group.

Within 18 months I would become a homeless 15-year-old boy living on the streets and sleeping in parks at night cricket field grandstands and in the branches of trees.

It is clear from the picture that the smiling Treherne has a raging hard on, and is pressing it high against the upper thigh of the young boy standing next to him, a talented young man who was my friend, classmate, contemporary and a fellow scholarship holder at St Paul’s.

The young boy was given the code name BSG when appeared before the Child Abuse Royal Commission as a prime witness in Case Study 34 to tell the story about how the horrific abuse he suffered at the school sent him spiraling into the bowels of hell.

His was a tortured tale of heroin addiction, marital breakdown, multiple suicide attempts, ruination, redemption, a search for justice, High Court challenges by the church, defeat, despair, degradation, determination and ultimately the airing of the despicably depraved truth.

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Father Ton Treherne also appeared before the Child Abuse Royal Commission as a witness in Case Study 34.

The Priest who served as Chaplain to the Army Reserve couldn’t remember a thing about the events of the 1980’s.

Reports of abuse by students such as BSG and Archie?

Sorry, my memory is shot Treherne said,.

Strangely the man of dog’s memory was working just fine only a couple of days before when he recited the Order of Service at the Sunday morning Anglican mass at St Barnabas church at Red Hill, and worked just as well the Sunday after; but the fakir of fraud posing as an earnest Counsel Assisting the Royal Commission feigned ignorance of that fact and let the lecherous, lying Father Treherne totally off the hook.

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Look down at the smiling soccer coach’s leg.

That’s neither a trick of the light nor an optical illusion.

It’s a raging hard on.

A raging hard on that the priest pressed against a young victim of horrific child abuse’s upper thigh.

Remember this photograph, remember it well, for this is the defining image of perhaps the most disgraceful cover-up of the modern age.

Today a class mate of mine and BSG’s from that St Paul’s generation of so long ago was found by police wandering naked on the street in front of his home. The men in blue had come because I and the naked man’s parents and his ex-wife had called them after we became concerned about his acutely odd behavior, and had become alarmed at the messages about his intended suicide that he had both sent to his beloved daughter and publicly posted on his YouTube account.

Our classmate – once the star of the St Paul’s rugby, cricket and tennis teams, and a junior state level representative in each code – was wrestled to the ground by the attending police officers, handcuffed, and taken by force to the Mental Health unit of the nearest public hospital, the only place that right now he can might be kept safe from the devils that attacked him all those years ago and continue to attack him now.

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As he was being dragged away the once promising sports star screamed out to the police and to the world ‘you don’t know who I am or where I’ve been, you don’t understand!’

The police didn’t. It’s not their fault, how could they know? It wasn’t them who betrayed him, they were just there doing their best to try to help him live, even though he didn’t really want to.

The men who killed him didn’t hear his cries.

The pedophile music teacher who had been jailed twice for child sexual assaults and is presently on remand for another didn’t have a clue who the one-time drummer boy was. They were all just dicks in his sick mind, although secretly he smiles at their memory.

Gregory Robert Knight is Satan’s identical twin.

The hand cuffed man’s one-time Headmaster remembered him as miscreant. The boy could have been anything, but for some unknown reason had turned wrong, He had to expel him from the school when he started spouting slander against his masters.

What else was Lucifer’s doppelganger Gilbert Case to do?

Father Thomas Treherne has  lost his hearing and his memory.

Maybe the man who was supposed to Minister to people like the mad bastard being dragged away screaming never really had any faculties at all.

How would he know? It was so long ago that they’d met, and he just couldn’t recall.

I do.

I remember.

I know why the shackled man is screaming.

I’m drowning in a river of tears desperately trying to save my old mate, but he’s pulling me under and if I don’t let go I’m going down with him too and I can’t let myself die trying to save him ‘cos my little girl’s about to have a baby and I want to be a grand dad and I have to live and love and teach my daughter’s little boy about life so that he doesn’t despair and die like us, and so I let go and my mate who I have loved since I was 10 years old sinks to the bottom of the sea and all I can do is cry as I watch him disappear.

You c*nts,

You absolute f*cking c*nts.

This is what you’ve done.

May all of you burn forever in the furnaces of Hell.