Left: Brett Gibbons Above: Rika Mombers
From page 25
“I went through it (the shooting) because I was a police officer. I survived because I was a police officer.”
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the shooting and its aftermath, Gibbons has emerged with a totally new perspective on victims of crime. He found his own experience as a victim in the court system eye-opening. “It’s affected my empathy for victims of crime and how I deal with and talk to them,” he says. “I think it’s brought me a bit of understanding of that other side of the witness box.” Inspired to serve victims of crime, even beyond his role as a copper, Gibbons has initiated the Victim Support Network. Its aim is to consolidate existing victim-support services and create a referral and counselling service and a judicial advisory body. And, to that end, Gibbons has lobbied, and enlisted the support of, a range of government and non-government agencies. Part of the new focus he wants on victims involves supporter responses within 48 hours of a crime, and greater assistance through the court process. Also important to Gibbons is to see the stigma which attaches to some victims reduced, even eradicated. “We really want people to feel that they can come forward confidently and know that not just police but everybody will be there to help them,” he says.
And, for Donato Corbo, by whose hand he became a victim of crime, Gibbons still has no hatred. “He’s never going to make my Christmascard list,” he quips. “But, at the same time, he’s very badly mentally ill, so it’s really hard to hold a grudge. He’s a person who tipped over the edge; and there’s always that curiosity about what drove him to that point. That might be something we’ll never really know the answer to.” Other Corbo victims – such as Travis Emms and the surviving members of the Mombers family – Gibbons is grateful to have still in his life. He thinks of the Mombers as “great people” who are “like family to me”. In the last two years, he has attended the weddings of Rika Mombers, who lost her husband, Luc, in the shooting – and Rika’s daughter, Alicia. He also joined the family at a small memorial service for Luc on the fourth anniversary of his death. In the City Watch House, where Gibbons now works, he sees Emms on the odd occasion when he (Emms) calls in from his post at Eastern Adelaide Intel. But the two rarely, if ever, talk about the shooting. “It’s just conversation like: ‘How you doing, what’s happening?’ ” Gibbons explains. “He’ll always be a friend and someone I very strongly look up to. “I’ve nothing but admiration for Travis; and, again, he’s like a member of the family. I’d happily come running any time he called, as I would for the Mombers.” Police work is another part of his life to which Gibbons has remained committed. The thought of quitting never crossed his mind after the shooting – and still has not. “I signed up to be a police officer,” he says. “I wanted to help people, and that’s what I still want to do. “I went through it (the shooting) because I was a police officer. I survived because I was a police officer. I still am a police officer.” PJ
Brett Gibbons now faces uncertainty in respect of his future medical expenses. This comes about because of the state government’s new return-to-work legislation, which takes effect from July 1. For clarification on where he stands, Gibbons recently wrote to SAPOL Injury Management Section. The first line of its response read: “Unfortunately, we are not able to provide anything definitive to you.” See Return-to-work set to exacerbate police suffering (page 8). JUNE 2015 legislation POLICE JOURNAL 34