EditorialStuart Kelly, the younger brother of one-punch victim Thomas Kelly, moved a room of Sydney’s most powerful people to tears last week at the Thomas Kelly Youth Foundation‘s 2015 Take Kare Gala Dinner. The following is a video and transcript of his emotional address, calling on the Premier of New South Wales the Hon Mike Baird MP to maintain the lockout laws.
My name is Stuart Kelly, I’m Thomas’ younger brother.
I was 14 years old when Tom was brutally attacked without reason, resulting in him losing his life.
Tom was out with his friends, it was his first night out in Sydney. We were at home in Bowral doing what many families do on a Saturday night, watching TV and getting ready for bed. The phone rang at 10.25pm.
Mum answered it but couldn’t comprehend what the person was telling her, so she passed the phone to Dad. The voice on the other end of the phone told him that they needed to come to St Vincent’s Hospital urgently.
Mum and Dad told my sister, Madeleine and I, that Tom had been in an altercation. They had to drive up to Sydney to be with him but would probably be back later during the night. We had absolutely no idea of the extent of Tom’s injuries. The person from the hospital would not give any further information, except to firmly ask that we come straight to the hospital.
Maddie and I stayed at home, it was really late so we went to bed. On Sunday morning Mum’s sister Kerrie called, telling us she was driving down to Bowral from Sydney to pick us both up. I felt really uneasy. I couldn’t understand why Kerrie would be coming and not our parents. Waiting at home I thought about what might have happened to Tom. Never did I think or imagine that we might lose my brother.
I remember walking into the foyer of St Vincent’s Hospital around midday on that Sunday. The foyer was bustling with people. As we made our way to the lifts I was trying to work out what was going on and why we were there.
Madeleine had even brought her schoolbooks up with her to study as she was stressed about her upcoming HSC trial examinations.
We took the lift to the fourth floor, where Mum and Dad met us. They took us into a small room, closing the door. I could tell by the look on their faces that something serious had happened.
I thought this was really strange as we were not visiting Tom. Nothing was making any sense to me. Finally Dad said to us, “Thomas has been badly hurt, the doctors want to explain it to both of you”. I felt uneasy.
We waited for what seemed a very long time, but probably wasn’t. Two doctors came in with a social worker. We all sat down. I was feeling scared and anxious, and I was about to find out why.
“Your brother, Thomas, is in a critical condition and will not survive.”
I was being told to prepare for his death. Those few words would change our lives forever. I do not remember too much more of what they said, I was in shock and total disbelief. I heard those terrible words but was feeling that this could not be real. This could not be happening to Tom. I could not process this as our reality.
I look back on that moment. I was 14 years old. I was told by a stranger that my brother, my best friend, was going to die.
I am now 17, that was 3 years ago. However I carry a deep scar that you cannot see. It’s always there, it never leaves. It sits below the surface of your skin and surfaces when you least expect it.
The last time that I had seen Tom alive, was at the Wallaby’s game against Wales on the 23rd of June. We’d had so much fun, lots of banter between the two of us – laughing at the Welsh accents, trying to imitate them. It was a great afternoon but now it is a memory caught in time, a memory of my final time with Tom. It is a memory that should have continued to be joined by many more as we continued to grow up and grow older together.
Thomas never deserved to die that night. It was not meant to be his time. In fact, I believe now that it could and should have been avoided. Our family lost a son and a brother.
I ask all you to all look at me.
I am but one person who has been affected by violence. It is a sentence that I have to carry for the rest of my life. My mother, father and sister now carry this sentence. Our relatives and our friends, Tom’s friends carry this sentence.
We are not alone. There are many, many, thousands of others who are directly affected by senseless violence, every year.
Today, I’m preparing to complete Year 12 at the King’s School, with my HSC only weeks away. My graduation is this Friday. I still remember sitting in Futter Hall, with my parents and Madeleine watching Tom graduate. Now it’s my turn. How will I feel when the Headmaster shakes my hand?
I want to ask all of you in this room tonight to think of your children or the children of someone special that you know. Would you want them to be standing here on this stage right now – making this speech?
It’s time for change. Action is needed through strong leadership from the NSW State Government, and the Federal Government. Action is needed by our friends and our families, across all of our communities. Change to stop the growing epidemic of drug and alcohol abuse and misuse and to say no to senseless violence.
Premier, will you make this promise tonight?
Australia is an alcoholic. We need to re-think the way we drink.
Tonight, your involvement and your voice can and will make a difference.
To finish, I would like to read a short poem that my father read at Thomas’ funeral. It is a stark blunt message to us all titled “The Guy in the Glass”.
When you get all you want and you struggle for pelf, and the world makes you king for a day,
then go to the mirror and look at yourself and see what that man has to say.
For it isn’t your mother, your father or wife whose judgment upon you must pass,
but the man, whose verdict counts most in your life, is the one staring back from the glass.
He’s the fellow to please, never mind all the rest. For he’s with you right to the end,
and you’ve passed your most difficult test if the man in the glass is your friend.
You may be like Jack Horner and “chisel” a plum, And think you’re a wonderful guy,
But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum. If you can’t look him straight in the eye.
You can fool the whole world, down the highway of years, and take pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears, if you’ve cheated the man in the glass.
Thank you.
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