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The Hanging Of Ray Williams, Part 3: The Hearing









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Ray didn't want me to come to his hearing. He told me he didn't want anybody there.

Ray said that none of his family or friends would be there - only himself and the legal people. That's the way he wanted it.

I struggled with this for weeks. Ray is a very private man, and I wanted to respect his wishes. At the same time though, I couldn't stand the thought of him being there alone. I eventually phoned and warned him that if he noticed an organ-grinder there with a familiar looking monkey, it might just be me and my young son Soren.

As it was, I shouldn't have bothered worrying. When I got there, I found the entire family sitting in the back rows of the courtroom.

It was an extraordinary day - unlike anything I had seen in a court before.

If you'd wandered in off the street, not knowing the circumstances of the gathering, you would have been forgiven for thinking you were attending a canonisation - adding Ray to that humble pantheon of Australian saints, headed by Mother Mary McKillop.

The prosecution said their bit of course, wrapped in the usual sort of mumbo jumbo that is tailored to obfuscate and impress. But then it was the turn of the defence.

I don't imagine that I'll ever again see a more impressive array of men come forward to defend a friend as I did that day. Mind you, it wasn't the number of witnesses, nor all their titles and accomplishments, that so moved me. It was the integrity with which they spoke. By the time the last witness left the stand, I was having trouble holding back the tears - not a good look for me.

The first guy to speak was a fellow cleric. Richard was his name. His point of connection was that he was pastor to Ray's mother, and a first-hand witness to Ray's involvement in the retirement village where she lived.

Ray had been out there every week, driving the bus, taking the elderly on various outings. Richard spoke about this and about Ray's involvement with the church and his overall commitment to the vulnerable in society. It was a solid testimonial.

It was the second man to the stand though who stole the show - Professor Martin Silink of the Sydney Children's Hospital - an old friend of Ray's, and a man who had had a long term involvement with Ray in establishing and developing a response to juvenile diabetes across Australia and around the world.

We heard how Ray's interest in the work had started when his own son suffered from diabetic problems as a child. After his son's recovery, Ray had determined to help extend Professor Silink's healing work across the country.

Ray worked closely with Silink over many years to establish an Institute for Juvenile Diabetes. Ray took financial responsibility for setting up and staffing the Institute, and remained ever attentive to developments in its work.

You'd think by the way the Professor spoke that Ray had taken this on as his primary job, but the truth is that Ray, in addition to managing HIH, had been supporting a vast number of charitable works across the country - our local Youth Centre being one of them at one stage.

At the time we received our donation from Ray, we had an accountant in the congregation who was quite high-up in the hospital system. When I told him that a guy called Williams had given us the money we needed, he said, 'Ray Williams? He keeps half the hospitals in Sydney going', and additional, 'but he never likes to have his name mentioned.' It was for that sort of work that they made Ray a member of the Order of Australia, even if now they're looking to strip him of that honour.

So far as the Professor's story went, the gut-wrenching part for me came afterwards the collapse of HIH. According to the Professor, Ray rang him that day, and was clearly distressed. They made an appointment to meet.

According to the Professor, when Ray arrived it was clear that he was holding back the tears. Eventually he spat it out, 'Les... we're going to have to find another way of funding the Institute.'

This was typical of Ray. I could hear him saying it. There was a man who had just lost everything. His company had collapsed, his fortune was gone. In many ways, his life was over. But what was he worrying about? The future of the Institute!

According to Silink, they subsequently have found a way to keep the Institute going - thanks be to God - but Ray no longer has any formal involvement. Shortly afterwards the collapse of HIH, Ray received a letter from the board of the Children's Hospital, saying, 'thank you but your services are no longer required.' It was the unkindest cut of all.

I won't go into details on the other two men who spoke. Tony Hartnell was man number three - a long-time friend who had lost his own fortune through the HIH collapse, but who loved Ray regardless - and the last witness was Ray's son, Stuart.

I had never met Stuart prior to that day. What an impressive bloke he turned out to be. And how it moved me to hear a man speak in such adoring terms of his dad. I truly thought the days of, 'when I grow up I want to be like dad', were over. Stuart was a son that any dad would be proud of, and a man who had unashamedly modelled himself upon his father.

And then it was over!

In a perfect world, the judge would have thrown down his gabble at this point, cried 'case dismissed', and led the procession out of the court, as we carried Ray on our shoulders.

But we don't live in a perfect world. The gavel fell and the courtroom emptied quickly, as media vultures scurried out on to the street to hover around the get-away cars. Judgement would be given in another month's time.

I had been warned that this would be the process. The judge would be wanting to give the impression that he was pondering everything before making his decision. Perhaps he really would consider it all seriously? Surely the day's events could not have failed but to make an impression on him.

I would have loved to have taken the stand myself that day, to stand alongside that great array of witnesses and add my testimony . The legal people had decided against it. My testimonial had been submitted in written form. I guess Ray's team knew something of my propensity to shoot my mouth off at inappropriate times.

Perhaps that was for the best. Certainly if I had known what awaited us on judgement day, I would have had trouble holding back my contempt for the Australian legal system.

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Ray said that none of his family or friends would be there - only himself and the legal people. That's the way he wanted it.

I struggled with this for weeks. Ray is a very private man, and I wanted to respect his wishes. At the same time though, I couldn't stand the thought of him being there alone. I eventually phoned and warned him that if he noticed an organ-grinder there with a familiar looking monkey, it might just be me and my young son Soren.

As it was, I shouldn't have bothered worrying. When I got there, I found the entire family sitting in the back rows of the courtroom.

It was an extraordinary day - unlike anything I had seen in a court before.

If you'd wandered in off the street, not knowing the circumstances of the gathering, you would have been forgiven for thinking you were attending a canonisation - adding Ray to that humble pantheon of Australian saints, headed by Mother Mary McKillop.

The prosecution said their bit of course, wrapped in the usual sort of mumbo jumbo that is tailored to obfuscate and impress. But then it was the turn of the defence.

I don't imagine that I'll ever again see a more impressive array of men come forward to defend a friend as I did that day. Mind you, it wasn't the number of witnesses, nor all their titles and accomplishments, that so moved me. It was the integrity with which they spoke. By the time the last witness left the stand, I was having trouble holding back the tears - not a good look for me.

The first guy to speak was a fellow cleric. Richard was his name. His point of connection was that he was pastor to Ray's mother, and a first-hand witness to Ray's involvement in the retirement village where she lived.

Ray had been out there every week, driving the bus, taking the elderly on various outings. Richard spoke about this and about Ray's involvement with the church and his overall commitment to the vulnerable in society. It was a solid testimonial.

It was the second man to the stand though who stole the show - Professor Martin Silink of the Sydney Children's Hospital - an old friend of Ray's, and a man who had had a long term involvement with Ray in establishing and developing a response to juvenile diabetes across Australia and around the world.

We heard how Ray's interest in the work had started when his own son suffered from diabetic problems as a child. After his son's recovery, Ray had determined to help extend Professor Silink's healing work across the country.

Ray worked closely with Silink over many years to establish an Institute for Juvenile Diabetes. Ray took financial responsibility for setting up and staffing the Institute, and remained ever attentive to developments in its work.

You'd think by the way the Professor spoke that Ray had taken this on as his primary job, but the truth is that Ray, in addition to managing HIH, had been supporting a vast number of charitable works across the country - our local Youth Centre being one of them at one stage.

At the time we received our donation from Ray, we had an accountant in the congregation who was quite high-up in the hospital system. When I told him that a guy called Williams had given us the money we needed, he said, 'Ray Williams? He keeps half the hospitals in Sydney going', and additional, 'but he never likes to have his name mentioned.' It was for that sort of work that they made Ray a member of the Order of Australia, even if now they're looking to strip him of that honour.

So far as the Professor's story went, the gut-wrenching part for me came afterwards the collapse of HIH. According to the Professor, Ray rang him that day, and was clearly distressed. They made an appointment to meet.

According to the Professor, when Ray arrived it was clear that he was holding back the tears. Eventually he spat it out, 'Les... we're going to have to find another way of funding the Institute.'

This was typical of Ray. I could hear him saying it. There was a man who had just lost everything. His company had collapsed, his fortune was gone. In many ways, his life was over. But what was he worrying about? The future of the Institute!

According to Silink, they subsequently have found a way to keep the Institute going - thanks be to God - but Ray no longer has any formal involvement. Shortly afterwards the collapse of HIH, Ray received a letter from the board of the Children's Hospital, saying, 'thank you but your services are no longer required.' It was the unkindest cut of all.

I won't go into details on the other two men who spoke. Tony Hartnell was man number three - a long-time friend who had lost his own fortune through the HIH collapse, but who loved Ray regardless - and the last witness was Ray's son, Stuart.

I had never met Stuart prior to that day. What an impressive bloke he turned out to be. And how it moved me to hear a man speak in such adoring terms of his dad. I truly thought the days of, 'when I grow up I want to be like dad', were over. Stuart was a son that any dad would be proud of, and a man who had unashamedly modelled himself upon his father.

And then it was over!

In a perfect world, the judge would have thrown down his gabble at this point, cried 'case dismissed', and led the procession out of the court, as we carried Ray on our shoulders.

But we don't live in a perfect world. The gavel fell and the courtroom emptied quickly, as media vultures scurried out on to the street to hover around the get-away cars. Judgement would be given in another month's time.

I had been warned that this would be the process. The judge would be wanting to give the impression that he was pondering everything before making his decision. Perhaps he really would consider it all seriously? Surely the day's events could not have failed but to make an impression on him.

I would have loved to have taken the stand myself that day, to stand alongside that great array of witnesses and add my testimony . The legal people had decided against it. My testimonial had been submitted in written form. I guess Ray's team knew something of my propensity to shoot my mouth off at inappropriate times.

Perhaps that was for the best. Certainly if I had known what awaited us on judgement day, I would have had trouble holding back my contempt for the Australian legal system.
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