by Denis Ryan
For once, it didn’t happen. Or perhaps I was too well hidden. I didn’t tell my parents I was leaving. I didn’t tell them for three weeks that I was alive and well. God only knows what they went through.
I was just too frightened that I’d be forced to come back. I waited three weeks before I asked a publican’s wife to give Mum and Dad a call to tell them I was all right. When they asked me why I had run away, I couldn’t say. I just told them I was having problems at school.
I didn’t go back though. I couldn’t. I was still in fear of Day and what he could do to me and my parents.
I stayed on there as a labourer on a work camp. It was a tough place and the older workers gave me regular hidings. Some of the older men used to play a game, a sort of Russian roulette with a rifle. There were some bloody cruel bastards among them. Still, anything was better than being raped by Father Day. And in a strange way, I felt free.
When I was 16, I was approached by a man I’d describe as a real Christian. He was a Methodist youth worker. He offered me the chance to return to school. I grabbed at the chance. I did pretty well at school, got my matric and headed out to the wide world.
I found I was a pretty good Australian Rules footballer. I played some good footy in the country and got asked to come down to Melbourne and play in the VFL. I played a few games. It was tough footy and I loved every minute of it.
Over the years I found that I could escape the deep feelings of guilt, fear and revulsion through alcohol. I became an alcoholic but I knew it was all due to the trauma I had suffered as a kid.
I found Alcoholics Anonymous and after a few lapses managed to stay sober. I’ve been sober now for twenty years.
I was married in 1971 and have three wonderful children, all of whom have developed into wonderful adults. I’d like to think that I offered them a loving and supportive environment. I love my children dearly.
I was divorced after eleven years of marriage. I found it very difficult to adjust to married life. It couldn’t have been easy for my wife and, just like with my parents, I could not bring myself to tell her about the abuse I suffered as a child.
As I get older, I find my mind drifts back to those days at Apollo Bay and Father Day’s abuse. I have tried forgiveness and that has helped, but the depression remains like an unwanted guest in my mind. The nightmares have continued and, if anything, have become more frequent as I have gotten older.
Having buried these painful thoughts at the back of my mind for so long, I find raking over them to be upsetting. I have had to maintain my Christian faith but find the word ‘trust’ makes me question my faith at times.
I was happy to assist with this book because I knew what a terrible treatment was handed out to Denis Ryan. He had tried to bring that mongrel Day to account, but ended up being forced out of the job that he loved. It was a terrible price to pay.
Others have paid an even more terrible price. It is my wish that this book will lead to Father Day’s victims being remembered properly. Some, like me, have survived. Others have fallen hard into grog or just couldn’t handle the trauma and took their own lives. I know at least three people who committed suicide in Apollo Bay, either death at their own hands or through reckless behaviour that was designed to lead to an untimely end. Anything to make the memories go away.
I’ve been asked what I’d do if I could front Father Day today. Would I want to get some of my own back? Would I want to confront him? It’s all hypothetical. Sometimes I feel anger and resentment towards him but I dismiss these thoughts, knowing he is dead and before judgment. But if I could see him just once, the only thing I’d do is ask him, why?
Acknowledgments
We have sought the truth in the research and writing of this book and would like to thank many people for their assistance in finding it.
We would like to thank those victims of Day who came forward willingly to tell their stories. It is hoped that their courage in doing so will be rewarded with the knowledge that, finally, the truth will be known and understood.
We would also like to thank others who have invested their time and energy in assisting with this book: Police Association Victoria Secretary Greg Davies, Bryan Harding, John Howden, John Zigouras, Sharon Lapkin, Bill Hager, Russell Savage, George Baddeley, Alan Erskine, and Michael, Martin and Anthony Ryan.
Finally, we would like to thank our wives, Norma Ryan and Jennifer Hoysted, for their tireless support. Without them this book would not have come into being.
This book is not intended to be an attack on the Roman Catholic Church. It’s a plea for the Church itself to confront the truth; only then can reparation begin.
Let we, the congregation, be your confessor and your penance be the truth.