& My near miss!
This is a picture of visiting American Mathematician, Scott Johnson. Mr Johnson was thrown to his death from a Sydney cliff top in 1988.
In the late 70’s and early 80’s Sydney was plagued by a string of gay bashings. By the 80’s they had become murders. By the 90’s the bashings had evolved into multiple murders. Some estimates put the number as high as 80 gay men murdered in Sydney! To date many of these murders remain unsolved by the New South Wales Police.
I think I came close to being another victim one night. This is my story.
Attitudes have changed in my lifetime. Back in the 70’s, gay men were regularly bashed in Sydney, no-one gave a toss. Hetero teenage boys like me didn’t care, in fact we undoubtedly laughed. Laughed at the reports of poofters getting their arses kicked. (although I never condoned murder)
But now… I’ve grown up!
Today we’re all 40 years older, homosexuality is no longer a crime, gay couples can get married and Sydney even has a Gay Mardi gras! In fact, I have neighbours who are openly gay. They’re great guys By The Way! Yes attitudes have changed since the 70's… and it’s a better world.
As I said the bashings of the 70’s had become multiple murders by the 90’s. I’m not laughing now, no sane person is! In fact nowadays I shed a tear for those poor men, those sons and brothers, who spent the last moments of their lives in sheer terror.
I myself had the tiniest taste of that terror in the winter of 1982!
Before I tell that story I’d like to tell you about an Aussie icon that is going to be one of the main characters in this story:
The Hoey!
The Australian built Ford GTHO phase III. The Hoey was 351 cubic inches of pure beast. Specifically built to conquer Mt Panorama and win Australia’s premier car race, The Hardie Ferodo 500. Held in Bathurst, NSW, every year, it was a 500 mile race for production cars with a 571ft hill climb every lap. We’ll come back to the Hoey a little later on in my tale.
So, it’s the winter of 82 and I’m at a party with my straight friends (In 1982 straight meant you didn’t do drugs). How would I get through the night without drugs? But one friend at this party, a fellow named Dean, had a new drug I’d never heard of before, Amyl Nitrite… Rush
As I remember it Rush gave me an immediate high, it came on within seconds and lasted for several minutes. Amyl came in little glass bottles about the size of your pinkie finger. You’d block one nostril and snort the vapours from the bottle up the other side of your nose.
Within the blink of an eye it felt like my heart was in my skull, my face was flushed and I felt great… followed by a headache and nausea but another hit of Amyl fixed that.
Unbeknownst to me Rush was big in the Gay scene…Hey, I didn’t even know there was a gay scene! I mean I’d heard rumors of it, but I didn’t believe in it! I’d also heard tittle-tattle that Dean was gay, “but that” I thought “would be impossible, he’s so handsome… why would a handsome man be gay!?”
“No, no way is Dean gay” I thought “He’s just trendy!” Dean wore the latest fashions and frequented the hottest clubs, and in those days Sydney’s hottest clubs, were the Gay Nightclubs on Oxford Street. Although, within 1–2 years of this story, the AIDS panic had killed the Gay Nightclub scene in Sydney.
Anyhow — as the night went on we ran out of Rush. Dean said “I know where we can score some more” and “do you want to go for the drive into Sydney?” I’m thinking, “ok”, so off we went!
We parked in town and I followed him to a nondescript doorway on Oxford Street. As soon as you passed through the doors you were confronted by a pretty steep set of stairs in an all yellow hallway. At the top of these yellow stairs was a yellow bar, you had to squeeze around the bar to get into the lounge area but we waited just atop the staircase.
I remember the whole place was very, very, very… dimly lit. It was full of Chesterfield lounges & potted palm trees. I could see men sitting on the lounges but everybody was hidden by the foliage and darkness, this was unlike any bar I’d ever been in!
As we waited for the barmans attention Dean leaned over towards me and whispered “this is a gay bar”
Well now, I was horrified! No word of a lie, I pressed my back up against the wall. Dean continued “they have dungeons upstairs…do you want to see?”
“No I don’t want to fuck’n see!” I said under my breath.
“Get me out of here Deano!”
“We gotta wait for the Amyl”
“Fuck it!” I hissed, “let’s go!”
I pressed my arsehole harder against the wall.
Anyhow. Dean talks to the barman, we get the drugs and we get out of there.
We find his car and start the drive back to Whereverthefuck the party was. Dean pulls the car up at a red light on Oxford Street.
Then, ominously, a sky blue Hoey pulls up alongside. It’s full of Greek* boys around the same age as us, say 17–25. They wind down their windows
“Faggot’s” they yell
“Pusti malakas” or something like that, in Greek
“Poofters” they shout in Australian.
Followed by the threats “We’re going to bash you poofters…we’re going to kill you fuckin Faggot’s!” The lights go green and Dean floors it, but his little Corolla panel Van is no match for the mighty GTHO.
Shit, another red light! Dean tries to get ready for the green light when the Corolla gear knob comes off in his hand. The Hoey rolls up alongside us again, Dean holds the dismembered gear knob up to the window and does his best Kenneth Williams impersonation “Oh look! My knob fell off!”
“What The Fuck Dean” I screamed “They’re going to kill us!”
“No they’re not,” Dean replied, cool as a cucumber… But I wasn’t so sure.
In that moment I had a vision, an epiphany, a near death experience and I thought to myself, “I’m going to die… I’m going to die in a gay bashing…therefore, people are going to assume I was gay…ergo, my mother is going to think I was gay…Oh the shame!”
It’s strange but it’s true, all I could think about was the shame I was going to bring upon my mother. My mother was broader minded than that but I wasn’t.
The lights went green again, and again Dean got the jump on them but we had no hope of outrunning Australia’s fastest production car. Now God bless my queer friend…he could drive! Just as the Hoey caught up to us again, pulling up along our right-hand side and just as we approached the Western Sydney bypass, within inches of the concrete divider wall, Dean veered hard left. We were off to Chinatown and the Hoey full of Greek boys, was off to Ultimo. Even if they wanted to circle back to us, it would take them 20 minutes. So we headed South as they headed west.
Now this is where a tale possibly becomes a testimony. 25 years later I’m telling this story to a friend of mine, another Sydney boy who’s roughly the same age as me. Now this bloke was literally born and raised in a Sydney Pub, let’s just say near the Petersham area. As I’m telling my story and I get to the part about the “Greek boys…” he finishes my sentence, I said “Greek boys in the Sky Blue Hoey” he said “Blue Hoey” in unison with me. “Everybody knows about the Greek boys in the Blue Hoey,” he says. Now I’m from the Shire, my mate is from the inner west but we both know about the Blue Hoey. It’s like we’re both holding a little piece of a jigsaw puzzle. He claims everybody knew about the Greek boys in the Blue Hoey back then… But did the cops know? Was it ever mentioned in the coroner’s inquest?
Perhaps you’re a Sydney lad in your 50’s and you know about the Blue Hoey. Would you leave a comment below? Maybe you likewise hold a tiny piece of a jigsaw puzzle but you think to yourself it’s insignificant. However if we put our puzzle pieces together perhaps we’ll see a Blue Hoey! Maybe we’ll even see the owner, or more likely, the owner’s son.
As of today around half of these murders remain unsolved. 15 men from 3 different gangs have been sentenced but police believe they only ever caught about half of these murderous bastards!
Anyhow…I love yous all
Lorko
*Please don’t think I’m trying to make this a race issue. I’m just retelling the facts of what happened to me that night.
In Fact most of the men who’ve been arrested for these crimes were Aussies. A gang of Street Kids, some Surfers and some Westies (bogans or rednecks). Indeed, it turns out the murderer of Scott Johnson was Gay himself! This POS claims he went gay bashing with a gang of homophobes in order to keep his own sexuality hidden from family and friends…
It’s all so sad, futile and tragic!
If you liked this story you might enjoy this one;
https://medium.com/@alexlorkin/my-boss-drugged-me-a3aa780fee78
