Stepping out on a 250km trek to Crescent Head in honour of fallen heroes
The Advertiser28-06-2025
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
IT started with a knock at the door.
It was supposed to be routine.
Two police officers in uniform, responding to a domestic violence dispute.
It was about 1am on July 9, 1995, when Senior Constables Robert Spears and Peter Addison, both aged 36, left Kempsey police station.
They were heading out to see 35-year-old John McGowan, in a quiet street in Crescent Head.
The officers, who had moved to Kempsey about six months before with their young families, had no idea what they were in for.
McGowan, who neighbours later described as "just a normal bloke", had kitted himself out in sniper's attire and was armed with a semi-automatic rifle.
The police had been to speak to McGowan's girlfriend before pulling up into the driveway in their 4WD.
The two cops were carrying standard-issue Smith and Wesson .38 calibre revolvers. They were no match for McGowan's modified, high-powered weapon, about which there'd been no warning.
What happened next changed policing. It shattered the lives of two families, and sent shockwaves through a sleepy, surfside community.
And it struck deep into the hearts and souls of serving policemen across the state, including Newcastle-based, former homicide detective Pat Gleeson.
Mr Gleeson, who was on scene later that day, said there was some kind of verbal exchange between McGowan and the two police when he opened the front door.
Moments later, he opened fire.
His rifle, a modified Ruger 14 with two magazines, could fire 30 rounds without reloading.
Constable Spears was shot in the first salvo while attempting to get back to the car to radio for help.
Constable Addison made it into a house across the road, hoping to find a phone there to call for help.
"There was an old fellow in there, Noel, who was hiding in the fridge," Mr Gleeson said.
He was hiding because shots had been coming through the World War II veteran's house.
But he didn't have a phone, he told Constable Addison, because it was his holiday house. So, knowing his partner had been shot, Constable Addison went back out into the street to either stop the gunman or to find a phone to call for help.
He, too, was shot in the line of duty.
"They would have thought they were going out to a run-of-the-mill type of job ... there's no way you would have been expecting to be confronted by that," Mr Gleeson said.
McGowan later shot himself.
That was nearly 30 years ago, and tomorrow (June 29) Mr Gleeson will set off on a 250km ten-day walk from Port Stephens to Crescent Head in honour of their sacrifice, and to raise money for police legacy.
He has already surpassed his initial goal to raise $15,000, but is still accepting donations.
Mr Gleeson says by the time he got to the scene of that crime in Walker Street, a police command had been set up, the tactical operations unit was there, and Polair was in the air above.
Being attached to the homicide unit, he'd seen a lot of bodies, but here he was confronted for the first time with the murder of two men in uniform - two of his own. Family.
It was a moment of realisation for Mr Gleeson, bringing into sharp focus for the first time the peril police place themselves in every day to protect the community.
"It gave me a new level of respect for first responders who turn up to every job," Mr Gleeson said.
It changed his view of the potential dangers of the job.
There is another side to the story, which has its beginnings in Mr Gleeson's own childhood, very close to home. In fact, he says he can't remember when Legacy wasn't a part of his life.
Mr Gleeson's father served in the 1st Australian Mountain Battery, fighting at Kokoda and Milne Bay before joining the occupation forces in Japan.
He died when Pat was eight years old, and Legacy was there. They helped with school fees, ensured the family had what they needed, and always checked in on his mum, himself, and his brother Jim, Mr Gleeson said.
"'They never missed a birthday or Christmas, ensuring we felt supported and remembered," he said.
"Being a single mum raising two boys in the 1970s was a tough gig, but Legacy ensured we never felt alone," Mr Gleeson said. "That support shaped who I am today."
This is his way of giving back.
The deaths of Senior Constables Spears and Addison were subject to a coronal inquiry headed by Former State Coroner Derrick Hand.
He found the two officers had been "massively outgunned", lacked bulletproof vests, and were hampered by poor radio communications.
He was told that a speedloader, a round device used to load all six bullets into the then-standard police weapon, would have let Constable Addison reload more efficiently under pressure.
The incident sparked a transition from revolvers to automatic pistols, bulletproof vests for first response officers, and improved radio coverage and equipment, as well as state-of-the-art tactical training for uniformed police.
Both men were posthumously awarded the Commissioner's Medal for Valour and the National Police Service Medal.
All are welcome to join Mr Gleeson for the last 30 kilometres of the walk from Port Macquarie to Crescent Head.
Among those who are keen to join in is Constable Spears' widow, Kathy Spears.
To find out more or to support his fundraising efforts, visit NSW Police Legacy's website.
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