Latest news with #Wayne
9 News
2 days ago
- 9 News
Perth couple's dream holiday ruined over US immigration debacle
Your web browser is no longer supported. To improve your experience update it here Exclusive: An Australian couple were forced to cancel an expensive cruise and now face the prospect of being banned from the US after a bizarre immigration error. Perth retirees Wayne and Carol Burley, aged in their 70s, were at the start of a cruise holiday around Australia, New Zealand, Tahiti, the US, Canada and Mexico when their ship pulled into Hawaii in April this year. US Immigration officers then boarded the vessel and performed the usual visa checks on passengers. The couple couldn't have imagined the strange reason their dream holiday would be derailed. Wayne and Carol boarded their cruise ship in Sydney and made it to Hawaii before disaster struck, (Supplied) The Burleys had completed their Electronic System for Travel Authorisation (ESTAs) like many times before and assumed they'd be let into the US without a hitch. "They looked at our ESTAs and took our passports and one of them said, 'Come with us'," Wayne told . "We were told to sit down and a senior officer started asking us questions." Wayne said he and Carol's names and passports had been flagged in the system for having breached the conditions of their previous ESTA. "He said, 'You have overstayed in the USA by more than 1000 days'," Wayne said. The couple were astonished. The last time they'd visited the US was nearly nine years ago in 2016. "He said their records showed we never left America," Wayne said, despite the fact the couple boarded the ship in Sydney. Wayne said the immigration officer all but shrugged and admitted that "sometimes our systems don't match up". The apparent administration error meant their ESTAs were promptly cancelled and US Immigration needed the Burleys to apply for a B2 visitor visa. The last time the Burleys had visited the US was nearly nine years ago in 2016. (Supplied) The fees for this were waived and the couple could continue on the first leg of their cruise. But a condition of this visa came with a huge snag – the officer confirmed they could not leave and re-enter the US. "We were told if we tried to do that, we'd be detained," Wayne explained. It meant their next cruise, which was from Los Angeles to Panama, had to be cancelled, leaving them out of pocket by more than $12,000. He said the immigration officer also warned it was unlikely they'd ever be let back into the US again. The Burleys then cancelled their second cruise with Princess Cruises, booked a hotel in Los Angeles once they reached that port and reluctantly headed back home. They were refunded their port fees and lodged a claim with their insurance agent 1Cover. After an initial denial and some back and forth, Wayne said he received a call from 1Cover saying their claim would be honoured. But the avid travellers are now left wondering if they'll be deported – or worse – if they try to holiday in the US again. Wayne said he and his wife are scared of travelling back to America in fear of being treated like a criminal. Wayne and Carol's enjoyed a cruise around Australia and New Zealand before the ship arrived in the US. (Supplied) Melbourne-based immigration lawyer Sherwin Noorian told this issue sometimes impacts non-US citizens attempting to enter the US after a previous trip. "The US does not have outbound passport control like Australia does for international departures," Noorian said. "At the airport, there are no gates where one must scan their passport before travelling abroad the way Australian airports do." "Customs and Border Protection relies on various data sources such as flight manifests to record departures from the US. "At times, they fail to record departures for foreign nationals and this may result in an 'overstay' being recorded for the traveller that is not accurate." For now, Wayne and Carol are trying to solve their potential travel ban by requesting a record of their travel in and out of Australia from the Department of Home Affairs, but they have not yet heard back. has contacted the US Customs and Border Protection for comment. Exclusive immigration USA Travel cruise Australia Perth Western Australia Hawaii CONTACT US
The Irish Sun
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Irish Sun
How a brave Brit soldier vowed to give a boy a new face & save his life amid the horrors of a genocidal war
A BLOODY war brought a British soldier and a young boy together in one of the most heartwarming stories you will ever read. Two decades ago, Sgt Wayne Ingram was shown a photo of Stefan Slavic amid the horrors of the 7 Sgt Wayne Ingram was determined to help Stefan Slavic the moment he met him amid the horrors of the Bosnia conflict 7 Stefan, then aged just four, was born with terrible facial deformities that would most probably end his short life in a couple of years Credit: Shutterstock Editorial 7 Stefan and Wayne at Great Ormond Street Hospital, after one of Stefan's operations in 2014 Credit: SWNS:South West News Service Stefan, then aged just four, was born with terrible facial deformities that would most probably end his short life in a couple of years. The toddler had a rare, severe facial Father-of-four Wayne says: 'He only had one airway and we didn't know if there were holes in his skull. 'So, at some point he would have contracted some sort of disease, maybe meningitis, that would have ended his life prematurely.' READ MORE UK NEWS Heartbroken and holding back tears Wayne, a veteran of Ulster's Troubles, made an incredible vow — to raise enough money to pay for life-saving surgery that would change the boy's life for ever. An incredible £160,000 and five major operations later, Stefan and Wayne are best friends, linked by a unique bond. Today, now aged 26, Stefan, plays keyboard in a Bosnian folk band, has a glamorous girlfriend and a promising life ahead of him. It is a far cry from his life as a boy being brought up in a country scarred by Most read in The Sun Now Wayne, 55, has told the incredible story in a new book, Soldier Of Conscience. 'Gargantuan task' In 2003, his regiment, the 9th/12th Lancers were sent to Bosnia where part of their job was to encourage locals to give up their weapons. Incredible video shows how doctors reconstructed man's face after he was savaged by a dog Wayne says: 'It was never going to happen because they had always lived with war throughout the centuries. 'And they always thought that, at some point, it would happen again. So, when we asked for weapons you would get the odd hunting rifle handed in but nothing much else.' The other part of the regiment's job was winning the hearts and minds of locals, but the police chief in Laktasi, near Banja Luka, kept giving British soldiers the slip. In that moment, I knew that I would protect this beautiful child with my life and do my utmost to ensure his operation went ahead Sgt Wayne Ingram on meeting Stefan Wayne says: 'He turned out to be the slipperiest eel I had ever tried to net. I needed to think smarter to nab him. 'On the day of our next planned meeting, I arrived at the police station a full hour early. 'He saw me and made a beeline for the back door. I gave chase, tripped over the kerb and went ass over tip in the car park. 'As I lay there he sped off in his car and gave me a quick look over his shoulder, laughing. 'I heard two men giggling behind me. Lying bruised on the dusty ground, I joined in the laughter. 'After they'd helped me, I introduced myself, unaware that several lives were about to change for ever.' The men were Dragoslav Kovacevic — Laktasi's Minister of Defence — and his personal assistant Milos Savic. Over coffee, wounded war veteran Milos showed Wayne a photograph of his toddler son Stefan and asked if any of the hearts and minds in the British Army could do anything to help his boy. An operation at a specialist hospital in France would cost €30,000. But as Milos only earned a pittance, it was not an option. Wayne was determined to help the little lad but needed permission from military top brass. His bosses gave the go-ahead with a warning: 'Sergeant Ingram, be careful. This has the potential to become a gargantuan task for you.' As we chat near his home in Portland , Dorset, Wayne says: 'Little did I know that he would be chillingly correct. "This would be the first day of a 13-year lone, uphill struggle, during which my emotions would reach immense highs, followed by long, dark descents into self-doubt, where I'd feel totally out of my depth, with no idea how to make it to the next stage.' First, he took a group of his soldiers in a Scimitar tank to meet little Stefan. As the 6ft 2in sergeant knelt down, the blond-haired boy kissed him on the cheek and said 'hallow' in broken English. Wayne says: 'In that moment, I knew that I would protect this beautiful child with my life and do my utmost to ensure his operation went ahead.' The British soldiers organised a football match against a team of locals who had been on opposing sides during the Balkan conflict. Wayne says: 'We lost 7-3, but at a barbecue afterwards all these people who had previously been fighting for years were sharing food. Arms amnesty 'The match raised €6,000 and when the locals saw that we really wanted to help, they asked if there was anything they could do. 'I said, 'We're looking for an arms amnesty'. 'They replied, 'Leave it with us'. 7 Wayne with Stefan and his mum Slavenka in 2014, before his final surgery was carried out Credit: Louis Wood - The Sun 7 Stefan, now 26, is able to live a normal life and is full of gratitude to Wayne - who made it all possible Credit: supplied 'The following Saturday it was like a scene from Jaws. I said to my corporal, 'Bloody hell we're going to need a bigger van'. 'We'd turned up expecting to get a few rifles. There were around 100 AK-47s laid out alongside RPG-7s with warheads. "Loads and loads of hand grenades, 40 or 50 pistols, tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition, land mines, anti-tank mines. All handed in because they trusted us. 'You had to think, if these are the ones they're prepared to hand in, how much was still out there?' After his tour ended in July 2003, Wayne returned to the UK and began raising money in earnest to pay for surgery for Stefan at London's A top Harley Street surgeon, Professor David Dunaway, kindly agreed to operate for free. But the rest of Stefan's hospital care, his family's accommodation and their travel to and from the UK would need to be covered by donations. Wayne says: 'In my naivety, I thought it was just going to be one operation but in the end it was five, the last was 13 years to the day after the first.' That first operation had been to remove some teeth to prepare Stefan's mouth for a 12-hour-op in October 2003, that would completely deconstruct his skull, moving his brain out of the way to rebuild the bones like a jigsaw. Wayne says: 'David is an absolute genius. His surgical skills transformed Stefan's life. 'He became the boy that he had always wanted to be. 'Not once did I ever hear Stefan complain, not once did I see him cry. 'After his 12-hour operation we didn't know whether he'd lose his sight and for four or five days he had his eyes covered up. 'One morning I walked into the hospital ward where they had removed the plasters and Stefan just started smiling. Morphine 'Even as a 13-year-old — when he'd had cosmetic surgery on his nose to open his airways — he had a syringe driver with morphine in it, but he never pressed it so they took it away after a day.' Stefan had three more operations to correct his nose and facial features as his bones grew over the years. Stefan is an amazing man. He works full-time in a warehouse and plays in a folk band. He's such a good-looking guy and has been in a relationship for quite some time with his long-term girlfriend Sgt Wayne Ingram on Stefan While all this was going on, Wayne discovered that he was suffering from complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, caused by a bomb blast 15 years earlier in Belfast. His marriage fell apart but Wayne continued to honour his promise to help Stefan. Wayne says: 'Raising £160,000 to pay for flights for Stefan's family and his hospital care took a lot out of me after 13 years. 'There were plenty of sleepless nights wondering where I was going to get the money from. 'At one point I had a shortfall where I was going to have to sell my motorbike until a stranger I'd never met before contacted me through the local paper. 'She and her husband had followed Stefan's story from day one. Sadly, her husband had died and she gave us £10,000. We weren't allowed to use her name, she only wanted to be called the 'kind granny'. 'This country's amazing. It's called Great Britain for a reason. 'Whenever there's a hardship, people put their hands in their pockets and the community comes together and helps people.' Wayne, who is now remarried and works as an offshore paramedic, stays in touch with Stefan using a translation app. He says: 'Stefan is an amazing man. He works full-time in a warehouse and plays in a folk band. 'He's such a good-looking guy and has been in a relationship for quite some time with his long-term girlfriend. 'She's beautiful and they just look amazing together.' Stefan sent a message to Wayne: 'You changed my life for the better. 'I love you my friend for ever. My gratitude cannot be expressed in words.' Soldier Of Conscience: From Fighting The IRA To Battling PTSD, by Wayne Ingram MBE, published by Pen & Sword, is out now. All royalties go to Scoliosis Support & Research. 7 Wayne has written a book about his amazing mission to help young Stefan - Soldier Of Conscience: From Fighting The IRA To Battling PTSD is out now Credit: Arthur Edwards / The Sun 7 A 12-year-old lad hangs from the barrel of a destroyed tank in Sarajevo in 1996 Credit: AFP
Indianapolis Star
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Indianapolis Star
He's friends to Indy's biggest stars. Behind Amp Harris' infectious smile is a pain that drives him to impact community
INDIANAPOLIS – Two Big Macs, a large fry and a large strawberry shake. That was Reggie Miller's order from the McDonald's on 38th and Illinois. On the nights when a young Miller would go out during his first few years in Indiana, local promoter Anthony 'Amp' Harris drove the Pacers legend in a Isuzu I-Mark to the fast food chain at 3 a.m. 'His long ass legs in a little bitty ass car,' Harris said with a laugh. 'I would ask him, 'What the heck are you eating that crap for?' 'I gotta gain weight,' Miller responded. Miller didn't go out often. But he went out with Amp. Stars trusted Amp. Stars trust Amp. In addition to promoting and curating community affairs like the 2025 Indiana Black Expo, Amp is a consultant to professional athletes, entertainers and corporations. Under his company Amp Harris Productions, Amp has planned events for Miller, Michael Jordan, former NBA MVP Allen Iverson, Shaquille O'Neal, Colts legends Reggie Wayne and Edgerrin James and more accomplished athletes. Actors Kevin Hart and Michael B. Jordan played in Amp's All-Star basketball game. He brought the first Martin Lawrence comedy stand-up to Indianapolis and coordinated the deal that made comedian Mike Epps the ambassador for the 2012 Super Bowl in Indianapolis. Amp and Epps grew up together on College Avenue and 30th Street. 'From Day 1, Amp gave you that vibe that you weren't a star athlete,' Wayne told IndyStar about why it was easy to befriend Amp. 'You were just another person and he always treated us that way.' The celebrity events, sitting courtside at the NBA Finals with Wayne, laughing with Tyrese Haliburton on the field at Lucas Oil Stadium and the many other encounters with the 'crème de la crème' of sport and entertainment don't define Amp. Beneath the success is a man whose trauma made him realize the importance of connecting with others and using those relationships to serve. Warning: Content below may be graphic for some By 21, Amp had made a name for himself through DJing. Amp grew up playing drums in church and his older brother's band rehearsed in their apartment growing up. At 13, Amp began to gravitate toward records and started to explore DJing. He went on a summer trip to New York, where he studied the city's famous DJs and musicians, including Kool DJ Red Alert, Grandmaster Flash and Busy Bee Starski. Upon returning to Indiana, he began working with Indianapolis-based DJ Tony Lamont, carrying record crates and doing planning for Lamont's production company. 'I was overwhelmed by that little needle making music come out of that round thing,' Amp said. At 13, Amp found one of his greatest loves but also experienced his greatest loss. A 58-year-old Amp still remembers the smoke. He can see the pieces of his brother's brain splattered on the wall inside his Indianapolis home. Amp's stepfather had shot his older brother in front of him and his mother, Geneva. 'Everything that Amp is, that moment is the reason why,' Amp said. 'One thing about tragedy is that it either eats you or you eat it. If it wasn't for my mother's Christian faith that she instilled me, I wouldn't have made it through.' Not much in the business can make Amp happy. Nothing in it can bring him joy. As he grew older, it was hard for Amp to understand why success didn't matter. By 15, Amp was working with local DJ Thomas Griffin and doing parties in over-21 clubs. The following year, Amp would finish high school basketball practice at Decatur Central and, as a member of the busing program, travel 45 minutes back to Indianapolis to DJ at night. Griffin, who Amp views as a mentor alongside Lamont, said he saw a 'very observant' teenager with 'a lot of personality' in Amp. When Amp was 16, Griffin began calling his production company 'Amp Harrris and the Network' because of his mentee's ability to connect with the youth. Amp elected not to enroll in college, a decision to which Geneva, who was raised in the Jim Crow South, didn't comprehend. But Amp had a vision. At 19, Amp founded his own production company and was hosting parties with headliners including Big Daddy Kane, Whodini and Chub Rock that drew 2,000 people. By 21, basketball stars O'Neal and Jordan were asking Amp to throw their parties. From there, Amp joined radio and became a host at WTLC Hot 96 at 25. In recent years, Amp learned why success never characterized him. 'I've seen death,' Amp said. 'There aren't too many things that get me excited, but psychologically, what's the worst thing that could happen. I get excited watching people who come to my events say they have a good time. The success doesn't excite me because I've seen it at all, coming from where I've come from and what I've had to fight through.' Amp recognized early in his career that building genuine relationships would create the opportunity for impact in Indianapolis. One night in 1984, after the Pacers played the Bulls, a rookie Jordan visited the Piccadilly Club in Indianapolis. Lamont and Griffin were the leading DJs, and Amp was assisting them. Before the club closed, Amp was playing pool with Jordan. 'By the end of the night, Amp and MJ are best buddies,' Griffin said. Amp added: 'I was a young kid teaching myself, but I knew the most important thing in this business was going to be relationships and how to maintain those relationships. The first rule of thumb is not how much money you have or how smart you are, but instead the kind of relationships you have. We all have a responsibility, no matter our position; it's not how much access you have, but what you do with the access.' Amp began the Amp Harris Foundation in 1999. Through his foundation, Amp hosts an annual toy drive on the track at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. He gifted 500 tickets to the 2024 NBA All-Star game to kids in Indianapolis. Other community engagement events include a mental health symposium at a local high school, where he selected former Pacer Metta World Peace to speak. Amp's partnerships have undoubtedly impacted the community, but his friendship has also impacted those he partners with. Edgerrin James kept his guard up. James was born and raised in Immokalee, Fla., a town he called a 'melting pot' with less than 25,000 people. When the Colts drafted him with the fourth pick in the 1999 NFL draft, James didn't know how a majority-white Indianapolis would receive a 6-0 Black man with dreads and gold teeth. 'I keep to my circle and surroundings, but Amp would bridge the gap between myself and others I probably wouldn't communicate with, even from a business side. Amp would make it make sense,' James told IndyStar. 'He's a buffer system that would say, 'These people are good for you, and he's usually spot on.' He's full of information and is a true connector. Sometimes he sees things in you that you don't see in yourself, and that's good when you have to walk around with this guard as an athlete.' Added Wayne: 'A lot of times, guys use your stardom to get things accomplished, but Amp was never like that. He always wanted us to make sure our brand stayed clean and get us around the right people.' The Colts drafted Wayne in 2001. The three-time All-Pro helped lead Indianapolis to the 2007 Super Bowl championship. James introduced Wayne to Amp when the former Miami product arrived in Indianapolis. Wayne used to call Amp and ask him questions about the city and business-related ventures. Wayne credited Amp for teaching him the whereabouts of Indianapolis when he became a Colt. After experiencing Amp's influence in the city, Wayne started calling him the 'Mayor' before transitioning to the 'Governor.' 'He just doesn't know, but he's a politician. But a good one,' Wayne told IndyStar. 'He knows how to navigate and read people. It's to the point where I'm like, 'Hey, I saw you were at such and such. Why didn't you let me know?' 'I know you ain't gon like that,' Amp would respond. 'Well, how do you know?' asked Wayne. 'Because I know you,' Amp retorted. 'I'm like man, 'You not married to me, you don't know me man,' but he just has this ability to read people,' Wayne said. 'If he were an X-Men, he'd be Xavier.' What started as business with James and Wayne turned into a brotherhood. Throughout James' time in Indy, it was common for Amp to go to James' house or vice versa and for Amp to attend James' family functions. Today, James doesn't come to Indianapolis without connecting with Amp. Wayne and Amp frequently sat courtside together during the Pacers' playoff run to the Finals this season. Wayne and Amp are fans of different Pacers players, and their postseason debates turned into trash talk about which players they believe should've gotten more playing time. 'I play devil's advocate on purpose just to get him railed up,' Wayne said with a laugh. 'I told him that the cameras were going to catch us, and people were going to think we were fighting.' Both Wayne and James respect Amp for never asking for money since they met. James acknowledged that some may have an 'ulterior motive' when building friendships with star athletes like himself. Not Amp 'He never used us in any way,' Wayne said. Added James: 'When it's genuine, when you're talking about a real friend, that's what Amp and I's relationship is,' James said. 'That's a forever friend and family member. If I don't talk to Amp for three weeks, we pick up like it was yesterday." Though it appears easy, maintaining relationships isn't natural for the self-proclaimed introvert. Amp's best work is produced at 3 a.m. when no one is calling him. He's recharged by outdoor walks. He has set up concerts with 5,000 people where he's sitting in the back. 'One of my guys used to work the door for me at events, and people would say to him, 'Amp, why are you charging me all the time?' Amp said. He pauses and lets the question sink in. He then laughs before switching to third person to answer it himself. 'That's not Amp. He's in the back,' he said. Amp's preserved personality isn't new. When he first started DJing, Amp was terrified of people looking at him, so he ducked his head under the record table when he spoke on the mic. But Amp recognizes that personal preference to operate behind the scenes won't always contribute to his call to serve. After scrolling through his camera roll, chronicling stories behind hundreds of pictures that include the likes of NFL legend Jim Brown and four-time NBA champion Stephen Curry, Amp stopped at a photo of smiling kids at a local Boys and Girls Club. 'This is why I do it,' Amp said as he looked at the kids in the picture. 'What are people going to say when you're done? You're a great entertainer, you're a great athlete? That's your job, not who you are.' Amp enjoys the opportunities his work provides, in particular 'connecting the dots and being a voice for the voiceless.' However, he admitted he doesn't know how long he will continue. Amp sits at a blue and white table at Binkley's Kitchen and Bar in Indianapolis. In front of him rests a glass of water with a 'whole bunch of lemons, no ice.' That's his first request at most restaurants. It's about halfway through his two-hour conversation, and Amp sets down the fork he's using to eat his strawberry chicken salad. As fans spin to cool down the outside seating area, Amp reveals a friend recently asked him where he wanted to be in the next five years. 'I want to be equal to where I am at now or better,' Amp told his friend. 'That ain't an answer,' his friend said in frustration. He wanted Amp to provide a dollar amount, a dream event or a materialistic possession. If Amp never plans another event, he's content. You say you want to be equal to where you are now. Where are you now, Amp? 'At peace,' he said. Amp's peace and joy are found in watching his daughter Rachel excel. Rachel is a senior marketing major at Howard and hopes to attend Georgetown in fall 2026 to pursue a Master's in business administration. She's an aspiring sports and entertainment executive. 'Everything I did before my daughter was self-absorbed. The day she was born, I no longer lived for myself. I lived for her," Amp said. "And that's why I don't let this business get to me. When you are intentional about who you are and not what you do, what you do becomes secondary." Rachel said, 'A lot of what I want to do is because of him,' and applauded her dad for always emphasizing the importance of building relationships, a skill she applies in college and career pursuits. 'I'm blessed to have a father whom I can look up to not only as a dad but as a role model. He's able to talk to any person from any background. My dad is a great father because he's a friend to everyone,' Rachel said. 'He's thankful for what life has taught him and everything he has had to face. So, I think it's a no-brainer for him to think about other people and give back. 'His tendency is to always give back to where he came from because I don't think he'll ever forget that part of himself that went through hardship.' Amp won't forget.
Irish Independent
5 days ago
- Sport
- Irish Independent
30 years on, a world title journey of glory and despair
That win in July '95 came off the back of a decorated amateur career which spanned two Olympics. Indeed, after what proved to be his much-publicised decision to carry the Irish tricolour in Seoul, he secured a stunning silver medal at the Barcelona games. By the end of that decade, he was in the midst of a run of box-office world title fights as a pro, headlining shows either side of the Atlantic. Wayne was in with the best, on the biggest stages. Around the height of his career, however, he suffered a serious mental health crisis, at one point attempting to take his own life. Later in this podcast, he speaks with great candour about difficulties he faced at that time, the descriptions of which may not be suitable for some listeners. For anyone affected, the Samaritans' freephone number is 116 123; they are contactable day and night. Ultimately though, and as you'll hear, Wayne's is a most unique story of triumph through adversity, and one which we mark on today's episode of Indo Sport. The next edition of Indo Sport LIVE takes place on August 6, head over to Ticketmaster for information on how you can join us at Vicar Street. If you'd like to get in touch with the show, email us at indosportpodcast@ You can subscribe to our dedicated Indo Sport YouTube page here Listen on... Spotify Apple Podcasts
Sydney Morning Herald
6 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Is this the way to treat a police hero?
While the taste of the online contribution could be questioned, it would not surprise Wayne's 83 Facebook followers. He posts on police matters, his political views and his climate change scepticism. But to local police, none of whom would have been in the job and many who would not have been born when he risked his life for the uniform they now wear (OK, they were in plain clothes, but I'm on a roll) it was a matter needing immediate action. The Victorian police are experts at responding to an emergency, but on the non-urgent they often move with the speed of a sea snail in an algae bloom. But the issue of Sherwell's Facebook post became a priority; a search warrant was issued by a Melbourne magistrate at 6.55pm the following day. (Wayne had already removed the post.) I went to the Victorian Crimes Act (1958) to see if posting on Facebook is a criminal offence. It covers arson, fraud, kidnapping, bigamy and even trading with pirates but nothing about ex-cops posting crime scene photos. The warrant tells us the story. 'SHERWELL is committing the offence of unauthorised access to the use of or disclosure of police information by members or former members of Victoria Police Personnel, Section 228 of the Victoria Police Act. Use Telecommunications devices to harass/cause offence. Section 85ZE (a) of the Commonwealth Crimes Act 1914.' First thing on Tuesday the four-person arrest team mustered at the Ararat police station to drive 80 kilometres to deal with the 75-year-old ex-cop. A matter that could have been handled with a gentle chat was now a formal investigation. 'I couldn't believe there were four detectives standing there to deal with such a minor issue,' Sherwell says. 'I have to say their behaviour was exemplary. They were professional and courteous. To be honest, I felt they were a little embarrassed.' They asked about the photos. Sherwell told them he was given a crime scene photo-book by the homicide squad as a keepsake. They seized the book and took his mobile phone. They drove him to the local station, where he was cautioned, formally video interviewed, photographed and fingerprinted. The case of the Country Bandit was one of a series of police shootings examined by then coroner Hal Hallenstein. His findings went a way to changing police culture and developing a safety-first approach to reduce risks to police and suspects. He was critical of the police response in some of the cases he examined, but this is what he said about Sherwell. 'It is notable that throughout the sequence of events Constable Sherwell not only acted with exemplary restraint and self-control but also remained mindful of the safety of those members who, as motorists, drove unwittingly into a theatre of mortal combat. Constable Sherwell has earned both respect and commendation.' On December 9, 1994, Sherwell was presented with the Police Valour Medal at the Police Academy by then chief commissioner Neil Comrie. Three days later he was given a civic reception at St Arnaud – the same town where police now apparently think he is public enemy No.1. After the inquest, I was approached by senior police who wanted the whole story told of the police shootings. I was officially provided with all material handed to the coroner – transcripts, video reconstructions and crime scene photos, including the ones Sherwell put online. They were published in the 1994 book Silent War, and in the ABC documentary Trigger Point, which means Sherwell wasn't disclosing anything. The offence under the Victoria Police Act is designed to stop crooks being tipped off by corrupt cops, not to catch police heroes recalling events that changed their lives. The act refers to the use of police information to, 'Endanger the life, safety of any person, commit or assist in the commission of an indictable offence or, impede or interfere with the administration of justice.' The maximum penalty is six years in the slot. Give me a spell. Before Wayne Sherwell became a person of police interest and an alleged criminal, what did he do to create this fuss? On June 29, 1988, Constable Sherwell drove about 15 kilometres from his home base at St Arnaud to set up a speed radar site. He was one up, a practice now banned because of the danger. At 9.45am he zapped a silver Mazda 626 hatchback travelling towards St Arnaud at 128km/h. He stepped out and flagged it down. The driver said he wasn't carrying his licence, then gave his name as Phillip Gould, a vet from Bendigo. When Sherwell did a police check and there appeared to be no such person, 'Gould' leant into the car, saying he would find identification, emerging with a sawn-off .22 rifle, telling the ambushed cop, 'Put your f---ing hands on the roof'. The man took Sherwell's police revolver from his holster and now had two guns. 'I thought it was now or never, as I felt he was going to kill me,' Sherwell later told police. He spun around and grabbed both the gunman's hands, struggling to keep both barrels from his head. He had the smarts to put the webbing of his hand between the hammer and the pin of his revolver so it couldn't be fired. They wrestled themselves to a standstill and the gunman told him to release his grip. Sherwell told him: 'I can't do that. If I lose my firearm I lose my job. I've got four kids and a wife to support. So I can't afford to give up my gun and lose my job. Give it to me, Mr Gould, before things go too far.' Finally, the constable grabbed both guns. Sherwell stuck the sawn-off rifle in his waistband and pointed his revolver at the man, ordering him to lie flat on the ground. The man refused, and when Sherwell headed towards the police car to radio for help, the man blocked his way. 'I then fired a shot from my police revolver into the air in an attempt to scare him off, and hoped someone may hear it and call the police to give me some assistance. 'He backed off a little and repeated: 'Go on, shoot me.'' When Sherwell made the protected side of the police car to call for back-up, Gould grabbed a sawn-off shotgun from his car and pointed it at the police officer, who fired two shots from his .38 revolver, killing the offender. His identity was quickly found to be Ian William Turner, the 'Country Bandit' who had a hidden armoury at his Shepparton home and was responsible for five regional bank armed robberies. Sherwell was a hero but for years his actions remained under scrutiny during the long-running police shootings inquest. I was there on the day Hallenstein delivered his findings and saw the relief on the country cop's face when he was vindicated. As in the cases of many cops involved in police shootings, it didn't end there. Even though Sherwell did everything he could not to kill the man who wanted to kill him, there were troubled times ahead. There were flashbacks, cold sweats, broken sleep, marriage difficulties and mental fatigue. He paid an enormous price, one that clearly those who want him charged don't understand. Wayne can be stubborn and difficult, but he is no criminal. He deserves respect, not a rap-sheet. Two days after his arrest, one of the detectives returned his mobile phone. 'He took me to the local cafe and bought me a cappuccino. I think he shook my hand four times,' Wayne says. When new Chief Commissioner Mike Bush enters the Victoria Police Centre, if he glances to his left he will see an Honour Board that includes the name Sherwell, R.W., registered number 24318. When he takes the lift to his office on the top floor, he should call for the file into the Sherwell investigation. And throw it in the bin.
