Latest news with #Blenheim
RNZ News
6 days ago
- RNZ News
Blenheim man sent to prison after violently murdering mother in argument
Paul Thomas Armon has been sentenced in the High Court in Blenheim for the murder of his mother, Jennifer Phyllis Sheehan. Photo: RNZ/Samantha Gee A man who snapped during an argument with his mother over dinner and used a crowbar and a knife to kill her before handing himself into police three days' later has been sentenced to life in prison. Paul Thomas Armon, 55, appeared for sentencing at the High Court at Blenheim on Thursday for the murder of his mother Jennifer Phyllis Sheehan, 78. The pair was having dinner at her Blenheim home, something they did every Friday night, when an argument escalated into violence. Justice Grice said Armon attacked his elderly mother, taking her by surprise, striking her head with a crowbar and again as she lay defenceless on the ground. "You then stabbed her four times in the chest. Rather than seeking medical help or calling an ambulance, you stood over her and watched her as she took her last breaths," she said. Armon was angry about comments his mother had made about his previous relationships and lifestyle, which was something they frequently argued about. Sheehan's family members declined to provide victim impact statements but Justice Grice said it was clear Armon's actions undoubtedly had a profound and permanent effect on their lives. "Of course, the ultimate harm has been done to your mother who's lost her life because of what you've done," she said. Justice Grice said the murder was not pre-meditated, Armon had turned himself in and confessed, entered guilty pleas at the first available opportunity and expressed remorse, but there was a high degree of callousness and his mother had been a defenceless and vulnerable victim. Jennifer Phyllis Sheehan. Photo: Supplied / Facebook The court heard Armon and Sheehan had a fraught relationship. Justice Grice said reports showed the pair had been close when Armon was young, but he experienced mental health struggles as a teenager and had turned to alcohol, drugs and crime. Armon had turned his life around by the age of 29 and was in a long-term relationship with two children, but that ended after the Christchurch earthquakes when he lapsed back into drug use. His mother had stood by him but had also been critical of his life choices despite changes he had made and would regularly bring up the past and frequently make direct insults and hurtful comments. Armon said he had usually dealt with them by walking away. The court heard Armon moved back to Blenheim in 2023 at his mother's request to support her but chose not to live with her because of concerns about her behaviour. "Nevertheless, you said you loved your mother and wanted to be a good son to her. Every Friday evening you'd buy takeaways for dinner and would eat and watch television with her. You said on the night in question your mother started having a go at you for no reason, which caused you to snap," Grice said. On the day of the attack, Armon said his mother had started swearing at him and calling him names that triggered him, making him so angry that he "totally lost the plot". In a letter to the court he said, "I wish every day that I had walked away as I had many times before". A psychiatric report said that while Armon's actions seemingly came out of nowhere and appeared out of character, they emanated from lifelong feelings of resentment and inadequacy. Another report said Armon was still coming to terms with what he had done, grieving the loss of his mother and appeared incredulous at his own behaviour. It said he had demonstrated remorse and taken full responsibility for his actions and had made no attempt to deflect, justify or excuse the killing. After the murder Armon had dragged his mother into the bathroom so no-one could see her lying on the kitchen floor. He went outside and smoked a cigarette before attempting to clean up by wiping down blood in the kitchen. He put the knife in the kitchen sink and threw the crowbar under a bed before going home. Three days later Armon went to Blenheim police station and told staff he had murdered someone. "I have killed my mother, last Friday, in her home," he told an officer. When spoken to further, he confessed to hitting his mother on the back of the head twice with the crowbar and stabbing her three times in the chest. A short time later police found Sheehan dead on her bathroom floor. Crown prosecutor Mark O'Donoghue said there was a high level of callousness in the murder and Sheehan was particularly vulnerable because she was a defenceless, elderly woman who had been taken by surprise. "Rather than then seeking medical help or walking away, the defendant has gone to the kitchen, armed himself with a carving knife and cold-bloodedly stabbed her four times. He appears to have finished what he started," he said. O'Donoghue said Sheehan "stood no chance" against her younger son, who was armed with two weapons and who should have walked away as he had described doing many times before. Armon was not suffering from an untreated psychosis and did not have impaired threat perception or judgment, the court heard. Defence lawyer Rob Harrison said there was an element of provocation in the murder. A psychiatrist report said Armon had a conflicted relationship with his mother where he felt belittled, demeaned and criticised, which Harrison said contributed to his actions. "Throughout his life, she has been extremely critical of him. This was not a premeditated murder. This was an assault, a murderous assault, where the defendant snapped and he cannot explain why," he said. Despite the difficulties in their relationship, Armon clearly loved his mother, which was evident in his return to Blenheim at her request and weekly dinners. Harrison said Armon spent the weekend after the murder wandering around in shock before turning himself in. He had written letters to his family, including his brother and children, apologising for the murder and seeking their forgiveness. Justice Grice sentenced Armon to life imprisonment with a minimum non-parole period of 15 years. She said a 17-year minimum non-parole period would have been manifestly unjust because it did not take into account his early guilty plea, so she awarded him a two-year discount. Detective Sergeant Ashley Clarke of Marlborough CIB acknowledged the sentence and extended extend police sympathies to Sheehan's family. "While no outcome can bring Mrs Sheehan back, we are pleased that the matter has now been concluded through the courts." Clarke thanked the investigations team as well as the wider public who helped police with information during the investigation.
RNZ News
03-06-2025
- Business
- RNZ News
Blenheim food truck owners face uncertainty after council buys site
By Kira Carrington, Local Democracy Reporter Peter Blaha, owner of food truck DFC Bakery, hopes to stay on at the High St site that was bought by the Marlborough District Council in May. Photo: LDR / Kira Carrington The owners of several food trucks on a vacant central Blenheim lot are worried they will be turfed out after the land was bought by the Marlborough District Council. The 1147m² property, spanning five titles between High St and Wynen St, beside Te Kahu o Waipuna, was bought by the council in May for $1.8 million. Mayor Nadine Taylor said the site was earmarked for development as a community space, and the council would seek input from the public as it explored options. One of the food truck owners, Peter Blaha of DFC Artisan Bakery, said he was notified by the owner about two weeks before the sale that the land was to be sold. Blaha said he hoped the council would allow them to stay put. "I would be happy if we can make some deal with them," Blaha said. "We are small businesses … You invest your money into [the business]. I feed my family, I pay the taxes as well." The food truck owners like parking up in the space next to Blenheim's new library and art gallery, Te Kahu o Waipuna. Photo: LDR / Kira Carrington Blaha said the council could incorporate the food trucks into a space that would attract more foot traffic to the CBD. He reckoned the lot could fit 100 people. "You can make [some] kind of small market here, even a small festival," Blaha said. Boseong Jeong, owner of food truck Sasa Express, said while she would have to close shortly as she was pregnant, she was also hopeful that a long-term arrangement could be made that allowed her to stay on at the site. Alson Su, owner of Orange Eats, said he had already been given notice to leave. "They told us the latest we could let this place is mid-June," Su said. "We are still waiting for some other places to move over [to]." A council spokesperson said that under the Reserves and Other Public Places Bylaw 2017, nobody could conduct commercial activity on public land without the council's written approval. "When mobile food truck owners have approached council for space in the CBD in the past, these applications have been declined in deference to other rate paying businesses in the CBD," the spokesperson said. "However, in this instance, council is prepared to work with the food truck operators to both understand their previous arrangements and to look at suitable options going forward." Anna Hamman, owner of neighbouring business The Sewing Store, said it would be great if the trucks could stay. "The food trucks have been a welcome addition actually. It's been quite nice knowing that there's a few little local businesses having a spot there." Jay Sirichan hopes a new community development in the empty lot will bring people back into central Blenheim. Photo: LDR / Kira Carrington Jay Sirichan, owner of nearby Japanese restaurant Bento, said the central Blenheim businesses could do with a new attraction. "Business is quite slow. "I would like a new space to make things more interesting for the people in town. "The new library is very good. In the weekend there are a lot of people with their kids. But just, I think it's not enough." * LDR is local body journalism co-funded by RNZ and NZ On Air.
The Guardian
03-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘The fandom is quite intense': Guy Montgomery on the strange success of Guy Mont Spelling Bee
Guy Montgomery was an extremely annoying child. Each night at dinner, he would attempt to get his younger sister to laugh so hard she snorted out her food. One evening, when his parents had friends over, he spent the whole meal pretending to be a South African exchange student. 'My mum was like, 'He's not, he's my son,'' Montgomery says. 'She was chasing me around the table, laughing, and I ran to my bedroom. When she came in later I was asleep.' He once read a joke book out loud all the way from Blenheim to Christchurch, a four-hour trip, telling zingers such as this one: 'How do you keep an ugly monster in suspense?' 'How?' I ask. 'I'll tell you tomorrow,' the now 36-year-old Montgomery says, and I don't know if I'm grinning because it's kind of funny or because he's so obviously delighted. Needling loved ones to the point where they are frustrated but laughing – 'so that the annoyance has no power' – is a comedic styling that has propelled the New Zealand comedian's career and powered his popular game show Guy Montgomery's Guy Mont Spelling Bee, kicking off its second Australian season this week on ABC. The irreverent and absurd show contains various segments that give guests – including Rove McManus, Hannah Gadsby, Hamish Blake and Denise Scott – the chance to tell jokes while failing abysmally at spelling tasks that range from basic to impossible. Montgomery reigns over the resulting chaos like a kind of encyclopedic svengali. 'I describe myself as the protagonist and antagonist of the show,' Montgomery says. 'It's designed to be enjoyable to watch and irritating to take part in.' Raised in Christchurch, Montgomery dipped into standup aged 22 when he was 'idling around' post-bachelor's degree. During the day, he worked as a mascot at agricultural shows, with stints as a popsicle, an orange bull and a peach-flavoured Bundaberg; at night he hit up local comedy clubs. He was already funny by then, he tells me, devoid of the self-effacement Kiwis are known for. 'I was funny basically the whole time,' he says, deadpan. 'I just didn't take it seriously. I got drunk and told a story and it went well, and I did the same thing again and it didn't. I had no control.' Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning He needed to get better, but he didn't want people he knew watching, so he went to Canada – randomly chosen for ease of visa access – and hit the standup circuit in Toronto while working in hospitality, tallying his gigs in the same notebook he wrote his jokes in. 'It was kind of an extreme form of self-discipline,' he says. That's when he started to learn how to get people to laugh. 'When I first started I was just copying Rhys Darby; they were my jokes, but I was in his cadence, and you overlay all of these influences until your own voice emerges,' he says. 'You're not being funny on your terms. You don't necessarily believe in what you're saying because you're just chasing the ability to make people laugh, and that's the addictive feeling. Over time, it goes from saying something you hope the audience will laugh at to saying something you know they'll laugh at.' Returning to New Zealand in 2014, he won the Billy T award for the country's top emerging standup comedian. This led to a series of TV hosting gigs, during which he met and vibed with local comedian Tim Batt. Their podcast together, The Worst Idea of All Time, gave an indication of the kind of cult following Montgomery's comedy inspires, with 350 people filling a New York theatre in 2016 to watch him and Batt talk about Sex and the City 2, a film they had watched every week for a year. Montgomery conceived The Guy Mont Spelling Bee in Auckland during Covid lockdown in 2020, inviting comedian friends and acquaintances – including Ayo Edebiri and Rose Matafeo – to join in on Zoom and stream the results on YouTube. 'I was always intrigued with the idea of spelling bees – there's all the pomp and pageantry,' he says. 'You'd watch the moderators reading out these quite ornate sentences just to get the word in there, and that's a pre-existing joke format.' It spiralled out to a stage show, and in 2023 it was picked up by New Zealand's channel Three, after which Montgomery and co-writer Joseph Moore pitched it to the ABC with comedian Aaron Chen attached as co-host. Montgomery says having two seasons of the New Zealand show under their belt was an advantage, in that producers have mostly left them alone. 'Because it arrived fully formed, it means it's an accurate and total expression of a comedic instinct.' Some returning comedians are invited to help brainstorm new games for the show, but Montgomery and Moore are still the lead writers. The recipe has proven a hit, generating rave reviews and lengthy Reddit threads. 'When people fall in love with the comedy format like this, the fandom is quite intense,' Montgomery says. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion Fans often speculate how much work must go into the show's preparation. 'You do drive yourself crazy writing this many jokes,' Montgomery admits. 'But also I love that … I want it to feel like it's brimming or overstuffed, and for people to want to know what the joke [was] for a certain word that we didn't get to say.' The handmade, retro feeling of the set is also intentional, to spark nostalgia and a childlike desire to walk in and touch everything. 'There's a comfort food quality to these shows,' Montgomery says. 'They don't reflect any of the crazy stuff that's happening, it's pure escapism.' This might also account for the intergenerational audience, with kids coming to the show with their grandparents. 'I used to know what my audience demographic looked like but in Australia now it just looks like everyone,' he says. Staff in this Wellington cafe recognise Montgomery because of his partner, the New Zealand actor Chelsie Preston Crayford, who was filming nearby last year. In Australia, people now stop him on the street; audiences for his standup shows have tripled. 'I'm experiencing success,' he says. 'In New Zealand, no one knows or cares.' Initially, that popularity brought on anxiety and a kind of guilt, which he has talked to his therapist about. 'She said: 'You're looking over the ledge of what would happen if it went wrong and you think you're going to fall all the way down, but you've got all these years of practice and experience,' he says. These days, he exudes the quiet confidence of someone who has found not only their calling but their gift: 'What I'm really good at, the means I have of helping the masses, is by being funny.' Season two of Guy Montgomery's Guy Mont Spelling Bee premieres on ABC TV and iView on 4 June. Guy Montgomery is touring Australia through June and July.
CTV News
28-05-2025
- Automotive
- CTV News
Still cruisin' together': Grieving family hosts classic auto show in memory of victims of fatal crash
The Huckle family is hosting their third annual classic auto show this Saturday, three years after Jaimee Doyle and Nigel Sedge were killed in a crash. The friends died on May 27, 2022, after their classic car was struck by an SUV during the RetroFest classic car cruise. 'Jaimee and Nigel lives were taken away too soon. Our families love and miss them dearly,' Doyle's mother Ruth Huckle told CTV News in a statement. 'They both lived life to the fullest. Family and friends – old and new – were always a big part of their lives,' Huckle says. Jaimee Doyle Jaimee Doyle. (Source: Blenheim Community Funeral Home Ltd.) She says Doyle and Sedge loved classic cars and participated in as many classic car cruises as they could. Nigel Sedge Nigel Sedge. (Source: McKinlay Funeral Homes Ltd.) '(A) quote I always use; 'still cruisin' together'' Huckle writes. 'Jaimee and Nigel loved the classic vehicles, and this is my way of keeping their memory alive,' Event details The auto show will be at the Shrewsbury Community Center at 112 New Scotland Line in Blenheim, Ont. from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. on Saturday May 31. Instead of a moment of silence, at 1 p.m., Huckle will ask participants to rev their engines and honk their horns. 'This always brings me tears,' she says. Admission is free but they are collecting donations for the Blenheim Word of Life Soup Kitchen and Food Bank. If the weather is bad, the event will be held the following Saturday, June 7. 'The Memorial Classic Auto Show is open to all makes, models and years; basically, anything with wheels,' Huckle says.
Yahoo
27-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
After seeing my sister's anguish I understand why she chose assisted suicide
Shortly before her death by assisted suicide, Caroline March wrote a raw, frank and deeply moving Facebook post outlining her reasons for ending her life. The 31-year-old, a former professional event rider who was paralysed in a cross-country fall, described herself as 'a complete rogue, someone who thrives off spontaneity', who could never be happy without the adrenaline rush of riding her horses or the physical exertion of labouring on her parents' farm. This wasn't her only option, she conceded, but 'it's a decision I've made which is the best route for me'. Pre-empting those she knew would vehemently disagree, she added: 'No one can truly understand what I have to go through.' Caroline's death at Pegasos clinic in Switzerland on March 23, 2024 was a devastating outcome her family had hoped desperately to avoid. They had done everything in their power to persuade her that her life was still worth living; that she could build a new existence that was, yes, far different from the one she'd envisaged, but still meaningful. In the end, there was nothing they could do to dissuade her. 'She was strong, independent and very determined,' says her brother Tom, 34, who is currently in the middle of an epic cycling and climbing fundraising challenge in her memory. 'She very much made up her mind and was confident that she didn't want to go on, so I have to respect that.' Growing up in the Essex countryside, in a family of equestrians – Tom's wife, Piggy March, has represented Great Britain in eventing many times – Caroline had ridden her entire life. By the time of her accident, at Burnham Market on April 16, 2022, she was delighted to be competing at four-star level at events such as Blenheim, Chatsworth and Gatcombe. Tom describes the fall which transformed her future as 'innocuous', saying: 'I've seen much more dramatic ones on a regular basis, when people get up, dust themselves off and carry on as normal.' But Caroline was knocked unconscious and awoke complaining of an altered sensation in her legs. She was airlifted to Addenbroke's Hospital, Cambridge, where she underwent surgery and it emerged she had suffered lacerations to her liver and fractured two vertebrae in her spine. It was soon clear that the catastrophic injury had left her paralysed below the waist, but since it wasn't 'complete' – 'She had tiny bits of feeling, but very minimal,' says Tom – Caroline threw herself into rehabilitation at Stoke Mandeville Hospital's specialist spinal injuries centre, determined to overcome it. 'The surgeon who operated on her didn't believe she would walk again, but other doctors were less sure, because people can make progress,' says Tom. 'My approach was to prepare for the worst and hope for the best, but I think Caroline was initially very positive, because she expected that if she worked hard with all the physio, she would be fine.' The realisation that wouldn't be the case was a gradual dawning over the course of many frustrating months, in which progress refused to materialise. Caroline even flew to the United States for stem cell therapy using her bone marrow, which made no difference – a crushing blow Tom sees as a turning point. 'I think she was fighting what the reality was for quite a long time, before it suddenly hit, like a steam train,' he says. 'She realised, this is what I am.' Despite their mutual love of horses and the outdoors, brother and sister were always very different characters: Tom level-headed and steady, while Caroline was more emotionally volatile and 'lived totally in the moment'. The amount of planning and help now required for her to go anywhere was anathema to her. 'Her life seemed so much smaller than before,' he says. Another heartbreaking aspect of her plight was her longing to be a mother. In her Facebook post, she wrote: 'All I ever wanted was a family and I'd have given up everything in an instant for one.' Tom believes it's possible she might still have been able to have children, but says she couldn't reconcile the difference between the kind of mother she'd envisaged being, and the one she could be now. 'In her head, motherhood was running around, playing games with them, and obviously that kind of involvement isn't possible from a wheelchair.' When she first began raising the possibility of assisted suicide, Tom saw in it echoes of her habit of running away and slamming the door shut as a teenager, as a way to shut down difficult conversations. 'She'd say, 'What's the point of talking about this? I'm not going to be here anyway' which, particularly for my parents, was excruciating to hear.' Then, as time went on, it became clear a plan was taking shape. Initially, Tom and his parents argued and pleaded with her to reconsider, 'but the harder we tried, the more she pushed back,' he says. He talked Caroline into counselling with a therapist, to no avail. 'My wife, Piggy, spoke to a counsellor who said we couldn't change her mind, we could only be there for her, which helped,' he says. Caroline seemed matter-of-fact when discussing her plans to go to the clinic, once telling him she couldn't see an equestrian mental health charity which wanted to help, because she had a dentist's appointment. 'I said, 'Why are you going to the dentist when you're saying you won't be here in a month?' She said, 'I have to get my teeth X-rayed so they can identify me when I'm out there.' 'I was shocked, but it made me realise the hoops she was jumping through. You don't just careen into this by accident, it's a very calculated decision. Her confidence in it has given me solace.' She would tell her loved ones she wasn't depressed; the problem wasn't in her head, but her body – although Tom worried then, and still wonders now, if she was in the despair that was inevitable once she realised her situation was permanent, 'and if, had she waited longer, she might have found a way out'. Until the last moment, her family were still, understandably, wondering if she could be dissuaded. 'We thought, 'Do we go down the legal route to try to stop her flying?',' he says. 'But the problem wasn't her going to Switzerland, it was that she wanted to. And if we stopped her going, we wouldn't have changed that desire. 'It seemed that there was no real path to keeping our relationship with her until the end without respecting her decision.' Caroline went to the clinic alone – helping someone travel abroad for assisted suicide is a criminal offence – promising her family that if she changed her mind, she would come home. Saying goodbye was 'surreal' says Tom, who didn't know if he would see her again. 'I hope I never have to do anything like that again,' he says, simply. The change of heart they hoped for didn't come, and she went through with her plan. The assisted dying Bill of which MPs voted in support last November, and which is currently making its way through Parliament, would not have applied to Caroline had it been passed in time. Only terminally ill adults with less than six months to live will be given the right to die under the proposed legislation. The volatile debate around the subject reignited ahead of the Scottish Parliament's vote earlier this month for its version, with those in favour citing individual autonomy, an end to suffering and the right to dignity in death, and those opposed arguing it would violate the sanctity of life, cause the potential coercion of vulnerable people and possibly prove a slippery slope leading to involuntary euthanasia. Tom's views on the assisted dying have, perhaps inevitably, changed since Caroline's death. 'Fundamentally, I find it strange that somebody who doesn't want to live can't choose not to,' he says. 'But now I see more of the nuance and complexity of all the different circumstances people might be in. 'How do you write legislation that deals with all the potential issues that will arise, and decides when it's the right time and when it's not?' On May 11, he embarked on the Pedal3Peaks Challenge to cycle 800 miles from Balmoral Castle to Windsor Castle, climbing the Three Peaks on the way. He finished the challenge within 100 hours and is raising money for the charity Spinal Research. In the UK, someone is paralysed every two hours as a result of a spinal cord injury. 'If I can be part of another family in the future not having to go through what we have, then that's a phenomenal thing to achieve, and a way to give meaning to what happened to Caroline,' he says. In the Facebook post she wrote before her death, she quoted the philosopher Alan Watts: 'I'd rather have a short life that is full of what I love doing, than a long life spent in a miserable way.' Now, Tom focusses on his sister as she would want to be remembered: strong and fearless, living and dying on her own terms. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
