NSW Police Training Centre – Redfern – Started with Class # 126 and Completed with Class # 138
NSW Police Cadet # 2689
New South Wales Police Force
Regd. # 16259
Rank: Commenced Training at Redfern Police Academy as a Police Cadet on Monday 22 February 1971 ( aged 16 years, 0 months, 2 days )
Probationary Constable- appointed 27 March 1974 ( aged 19 years, 1 month, 7 days ) ( may have been injured or failed a subject – thus loss of 1 mth, 7 days Seniority )
Constable – appointed 27 March 1975
Constable 1st Class – appointed ? ? ?
Detective – appointed ? ? ? NO
Senior Constable – appointed 27 March 1983
Leading Senior Constable – appointed ? ? ? ( N/A )
Appears in the 1985 ‘Stud Book’ but not the 1987 issue
Final Rank: = Senior Constable
Stations: ?, Central ( 1 Division ), ?
Service: From 22 February 1971 to? ? ? = ? years Service ( 17 – 18 years service )
Retirement / Leaving age: = ?
Time in Retirement from Police: ?
Awards: No Find on Australian Honours system
Born: Sunday 20 February 1955
Died on: Sunday 13 March 2022
Age: 67 years, 0 months, 21 days
Organ Donor: NO
Cause: Cancer – Pancreatic & Lung together with other health issues
Event location: Campbelltown Hospital, NSW
Event date: Finally went to Hospital on Thursday but because he wouldn’t previously visit a Doctor, he passed on Sunday
Funeral date: Wednesday 23 March 2022 @ 11am
Funeral location: Forest Lawn Memorial Park, Camden Valley Way, Leppington, NSW
( Due to current Govt. restrictions on ‘Gatherings’ due to Corona19 Virus Pandemic, some families may wish to have a Memorial Service / Wake with friends and family at a later date )
Nothing further, than what is recorded above, is known about this person at the time of publication and further information and photos would be appreciated.
**********
Cal
18 March 2022 – 20 March 2022
Brendan J AKHURST
| 20/03/2022
Brendan J AKHURST
AKA BJ, BJ AKHURST
Late of Buradoo, Southern Highlands, NSW
“possible” relation in ‘the job’: Ron C AKHURST, NSWPF # 16716
No relation to: A J AKHURST, NSWPF # 7401. A J ( Jim ) AKHURST worked at the old Sydney Water Police ( 1973 / 76 era )
Jim & Brendan were at Sydney Water Police during the same era.
NSW Police Training Centre – Redfern – Class # 112
First Class to be issued the new Smith & Wesson .38 calibre model 10 six shot revolver
Class 112 – Attested 15 September 1967 – Redfern
New South Wales Police Force
Regd. # 12734
Rank: Commenced Training at Redfern Police Academy on Monday 7 August 1967 ( aged 19 years, 3 months, 13 days )
Probationary Constable- appointed Friday 15 September 1967 ( aged 19 years, 4 months, 21 days )
Constable – appointed 15 September 1968
Constable 1st Class – appointed 15 September 1972
Detective – appointed ? ? ? ( NO )
Senior Constable – appointed ? ? ?
Leading Senior Constable – appointed ? ? ? ( N/A )
Sergeant 3rd Class – appointed ? ? ?
Appears in the 1975 ‘Stud Book’
Does NOT appear in the 1979 ‘Stud Book’
Final Rank: = Senior Constable?
Stations: ?, Court Constable ( Sydney Quarter Sessions )( part of Darlinghurst Police )( early 1970s ), ?, Sydney Water Police ( Police Diver )( Launch Maintenance Section LMS )( 1974 / 75 ), ?, – Resignation
Service: From Monday 7 August 1967to? ? 1978 ( Resigned ) =
( Resigned – stemming from ” pulling too many bodies from the water & listening to the police bullshit that went with the job ” )
11? years Service
Retirement / Leaving age: = ?
Time in Retirement from Police: ?
Awards: No Find on Australian Honours system
Born: Sunday 25 April 1948
Died on: Friday 7 January 2022
Age: 73 years, 8 months, 13 days
Organ Donor: Y / N / ?
Cause: Cancer – Pancreatic
Event location: ?
Event date: ?
Funeral date: ? ? ? TBA ( Private Service held )
Funeral location: St Thomas Aquinas Church, Bowral, NSW
( Due to current Govt. restrictions on ‘Gatherings’ due to Corona19 Virus Pandemic, some families may wish to have a Memorial Service / Wake with friends and family at a later date )
Funeral Parlour: ?
Buried at: ?
Memorial / Plaque / Monument located at: ?
Dedication date of Memorial / Plaque / Monument: Nil – at this time ( March 2022 )
BJ is NOT mentioned on the Police Wall of Remembrance *NEED MORE INFO
FURTHER INFORMATION IS NEEDED ABOUT THIS PERSON, THEIR LIFE, THEIR CAREER AND THEIR DEATH.
Well, not today. It was a few days ago. But it’s taken me some time to wrap my head around it and sit down at the keyboard.
It began with a phone call.
“Hi mate, it’s me.”
“I know, brother. It says ‘Brendan Akhurst’ on my phone when you call me. How you doing?”
“Not well. I’ve run out of time.”
My stomach dropped. It was not what I wanted to hear, even though I knew I was going to hear it one day.
Brendan Akhurst is one of Australia’s finest cartoonists and illustrators. His work has graced the pages of countless magazines for the last four decades. I have worked with him for more than three of those decades.
He was the genius who came up with the department illustrations for Ozbike magazine. He’d illustrated countless fiction stories for the same magazine. His cartoons of Maynard contributed greatly to the success of Street Machine magazine, and he was a mainstay at The Picture for many years, providing BJ’s Babes illos.
His was a rare and stunning talent. Not only could he illustrate to a script, but he could and did write his own cartoon scripts, which were always better than what someone else could have written.
His work was complex, but looked simple, and he would fill each panel with brilliant little jokes and characters always as an aside to the main story.
I was in awe of his talent, as were all the people who worked with him. And there were many. His work is everywhere.
A true creative genius, Brendan was justifiably hailed and revered by editors and writers all over Australia, while being simultaneously castigated as being a bastard who could never meet a deadline.
He was the bane of my existence as an editor in that regard. He never met a single deadline. Not one. Not ever.
I even got into the habit of lying to him about the deadlines. I would move them forward, knowing he would miss them and hoping he would make the actual deadline. But he’d miss that one too.
I’d sacked him. Four times. Then I re-hired him soon after each sacking because his work was without equal and always worth the wait.
I was over the moon when he agreed to illustrate my third book, The Wisdom Of The Road Gods. And I knew what was going to happen, but I also knew his illustrations of my stories would be superb. And they were.
I actually sacked him for the fifth time during that process, then promptly re-hired him, because the stuff he had sent me thus far was brilliant.
It’s not that Brendan didn’t appreciate deadlines. He did. He even wrote off his beloved Dodge-engined V8 Charger trying to get me an illustration a week after its due date. He was so tired he’d fallen asleep and put it into a tree on the drive from his home in the Southern Highlands to Sydney. Yes, it was before emails were a thing. he certainly understood deadlines. He just couldn’t meet them.
A few months ago, he called me and told me he’d been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. We both knew what that meant. The survival rate for that bastard is in the low single digits.
But Brendan was upbeat. He was always upbeat. And while he battled the cancer, we discussed a few new projects he wanted to do with me, one being the illustration of forgotten historical battles, and another was asking my readers to send in their motorcycle stories, which I would then turn into English, and he would do the illustrations.
But then he called me and told me he had run out of time.
“And I’ve run out of puff,” he added. “But look, I’m OK. I have made my peace with God.”
I didn’t know what to say, because what does one say when one is told that? I’m talking to a dear friend who has just told me he is about to die. It’s imminent, and he’s come to terms with it, because…well, fuck, what alternative does he have?
“I’d love to see you if you can make it down,” he said, his voice a touch strained with the pain he was in.
“I’ll be down tomorrow morning,” I said, hoping I would be in time.
I was.
I arrived at his home and was shown in to his lounge-room by his brother and his brother’s wife. She told me that Brendan had just been given some morphine and will need to rest shortly. I told her I would not stay long.
The change the cancer had wrought upon him was appalling. Brendan was always a big, strong, bloke. He was a former Water Police officer, and left when he got sick of pulling floaters out of the harbour and listening to the police bullshit that went with the job. His subsequent illustrations of the police were cutting and sharper than master-made katana.
He was still big. But he was a big skeleton. He did not look at all like the Brendan I once knew. But then he smiled and that was instantly recognisable.
“I’m so glad you came!” he said. His voice was still deep and strong; he was also one of the best singers I have ever heard.
“How could I not come?” I replied, stating the obvious.
He told me to pull up a chair and we sat and talked for a while about old times. His sister-in-law and his brother, and his wonderful partner, Michelle, hovered nearby, all clearly shattered by what was happening. They injected him with some more morphine, and they gave him a special lozenge to put in his mouth to assist him in making saliva.
Brendan reclined on the couch, his legs propped on a chair and covered in a blanket, and laughed and joked with me, and I with him. And then he got up, much to the horror of his family.
“Brendan,” they all said. “Sit down. Where are you going?”
“I’m going out to the studio. Boris, come with me.”
“No, no, no! You can’t go. You might fall!”
“Get out of my way. This will only take a minute.”
I followed him out to his studio – a veritable temple to the creative art he’d practiced, and he walked pretty steadily, I thought, even though the path was a little steep and had a few steps.
We walked in, and he pulled a painting off the wall and handed it to me. It was of a pair of girl’s legs in heels and her hands were pulling her panties down. I recognised it instantly.
“You remember this?” he grinned.
“I sure do.”
“It was my favourite panel from that strip I did ages ago when I used your head for the main character. I think you fell into a river after she did this.”
“Thank you,” I said. What else could I say?
We went back inside and he propped himself back on the couch.
His brother, Bill, came and said that I could stay as long as I wanted to. Me being there had made Brendan very happy, he said.
Then the community nurse arrived and she needed to examine Brendan, so I went outside with his brother while that happened.
We talked. Mostly small-talk. It’s pretty much the default chat of people who are in the presence of a tragic event, and are struggling to cope with the inevitability and outcome of that event. In Bill’s case, it was the passing of his younger brother. In mine, the passing of a dear friend and colleague. My pain was simply not in the same league as Bill’s.
Then Bill’s wife came out with a rueful grin.
“Brendan says if you don’t come back in, he’s going to come out.”
I trooped back in and stood there awkwardly as the nurse explained to Brendan that he had a bowel obstruction and that he would need to go to hospital to have it seen to.
“What are the options?” Brendan asked.
“You can go to hospital, get your obstruction scanned, get your pain medication sorted, and hopefully be home in a day or so. If you choose not to do that, we can set up a syringe that will supply you with a cocktail of drugs that will keep you comfortable and a little dozy…er, until…”
It was obvious “until” what. The medical profession calls it an “end of life event”, while avoiding the words “until you die”.
“Let me think about it,” Brendan said.
I knew I had to leave then. But knowing this and actually leaving is a crushing position to be in. Brendan needed to be with his family. Not some prick he’d worked with. But how do I actually do that?
I waited until Michelle, wreathed in tears and pain, went into the kitchen then I came and knelt by his side.
“I better go,” I said, grasping his big hand. It was warm and he still had a strong grip.
“This is the last time you and I will speak,” he said, and smiled gently.
My eyes filled with tears and a knot formed in my throat. What does one say to that? How does one respond? I had no idea.
“Um…” I said, and cleared my throat while trying to think of what else I might say.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” Brendan said. “Just move the green bin closer to the door when you go.”
“The green bin?” I blinked.
“Yeah, the recycling bin they might chuck me in,” he grinned.
“I’m not sure you can get recycled in that state,” I said. “But fuck thanking me. I need to thank you. You were the greatest illustrator I have ever worked with. And I can never thank you enough for the joy you have given me and so many other people through your work.”
Yes, I know. It was a pointless thing to say. But I had no other words. I knew no other words.
Brendan squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. He was still strong.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said.
“Further on down the road, brother,” I rasped back.
And then I turned and walked slowly away, wishing this was yet another deadline he would not meet.
Nothing further, than what is recorded above, is known about this person at the time of publication and further information and photos would be appreciated.
**********
Cal
7 March 2022
Nabil Anthony ELIAS
| 20/03/2022
Nabil Anthony ELIAS
AKA Bill, Billy, Midnight, Sooty
Late of ?
NSW Redfern Police Academy Class # 164
New South Wales Police Force
Regd. # 18814
Rank: Commenced Training at Redfern Police Academy in June 1979
Probationary Constable – appointed 17 September 1979
Upon speaking to Bills brother this afternoon, I believe there will be a Police Honour Guard from a local area command, hence medals will be on the agenda.
Wake location: TBA
Funeral Parlour: TBA
Buried at: Cremated
Memorial located at: ?
NABIL ‘BILL’ ELIAS FROM CABRAMATTA POLICE STATION. BANKSTOWN AIRPORT, NSW. ? APRIL 1980
BILLY is NOT mentioned on the Police Wall of Remembrance *NEED MORE INFO
Billy, Midnight Elias was a bloody good bloke who was loud, full of laughter and fun to work with in the old Cabramatta / Fairfield days.
May you forever Rest In Peace my friend.
You and your family have my deepest respect and apology for being unable to attend your funeral on Wednesday.
Your mate
‘ Charlie ‘ / ‘Cal ‘
Greg Callander
FLIGHT OVER WESTERN SUBURBS OF SYDNEY WITH Constable’s Greg Callander, Bill Elias & Phil Charlier. ALL POLICE FROM CABRAMATTA POLICE STATION. BANKSTOWN AIRPORT, NSW. APRIL 1980
FLIGHT OVER WESTERN SUBURBS OF SYDNEY WITH CONSTABLE NABIL ‘BILL’ ELIAS, PHIL CHARLIER AND GREG CALLANDER. BILL ELIAS RUNNING THROUGH THE ‘CHECK LIST’ PRIOR TO OUR FLIGHT.
FLIGHT OVER WESTERN SUBURBS OF SYDNEY WITH CONSTABLE NABIL ‘BILL’ ELIAS, PHIL CHARLIER AND GREG CALLANDER. BANKSTOWN AIRPORT APRIL 1980
Cst 1/c Greg Callander & Constable Nabil Elias at a crime scene in Cabramatta where a couple were menaced by shotgun toting bandits. Around 1980.
Salute’
They gave Bill the keys to a City Bus, Sydney CBD. 2016
Cal & 11.45pm ( Nabil Elias – just isn’t quite dark enough to be midnight ) with the old F100 which we did a lot of shifts in at Cabramatta LAC – NSW Police Force & Fairfield LAC – NSW Police Force back in the 1970’s.
And they even let him at the controls of a train.
Colin Thomas GIBBONS
| 20/03/2022
Colin Thomas GIBBONS
AKA Gibbo, Col
Late of Mudgee
NSW Redfern Police Academy Class # 106
New South Wales Police Force
[alert_yellow]Regd. # 11906[/alert_yellow]
Rank: Probationary Constable – appointed 4 April 1966
Constable – appointed 4 June 1967
Senior Constable – appointed ? ? ?
Final Rank = ?TBA
Stations: ?, South Coast District ( 1967 ), Mudgee ( 1977 – 1981 ), Cronulla, George St North, Bega, Eden, Batemans Bay
Service: From? ? pre April 1966?to4 April 1985 ( Resigned ) = 19 years Service
Awards: National Medal – granted 15 November 1982 ( SenCon )
Born: Wednesday 15 October 1941
Died on: Thursday 30 May 2019
Age: 77
Cause: Pancreatic Cancer
Event location: Dubbo – Lourdes Private Hospital
Event date: Wednesday 29 May 2019
Funeral date: Friday 7 June 2019 @ 11am
Funeral location: St Luke’s Anglican Church, Bayly St, Gulgong, NSW
Wake location: Gulgong RSL
Funeral Parlour: Macquarie Valley Funerals & Monuments, Mudgee 6372 2331
Good evening caught up with an old Mudgee stalwart Colin Thomas Gibbons at Lourdes Hospital at Dubbo Col is in a bad way and his family are with him worked at Mudgee during early 80’S and he was one of the last old school coppers when telling hoodlums to get home their reply was yes Mister Gibbons he was very active with The Mudgee VRA and his family were overwhelmed today to have the Commissioner of the VRA MR Mark Gibson visit Col and his family today and I thank you Sir for your visit. May our thoughts and prayers be with Col and his family
Col Gibbons / Gibbo / Dad / Pop / Grandpa
“A silent #Mudgee legend gave his time to save many a life as a #police office and active member of the volunteer #rescue squad today bids us farewell” Over the past months our dad has fought the biggest fight of his life. A fight that sadly came to an end this morning with his true loves, mum and his kids by his side. Next week will give us all the opportunity to celebrate Cols amazing life and I encourage all those that know our family to come along and show your support to mum (Ella) Saraha-Jane, Johnny, Susan, Sharron (Gibbo) and our extended family.
God Bless You Big Fella – May You Continue to protect us from above
