BRIAN WILKINSON
** Content warning: Some readers may find content disturbing with references to violence.
“Brilliant sailing race I thought, stretching my arms above my head as I stood up from the couch and headed towards the open door leading to our front deck. Well worth staying up to see our boys led by Sir Peter Blake take the 1995 Americas Cup. The clock said half past midnight. My wife and 3 children were all sound asleep in other rooms and the rest of the house was quiet and already locked up for the night. Nothing in my years as a farmer or husband could have prepared me for what was about to unfold.
“I grew up the eldest son of a four-generation farming family with deep southern roots and raised in a strong Christian home. At the age of 12 we made a surprising move from our settled sheep farm life in the South Island, to Dairy Flat just north of Auckland. I went from a school where my grandfather was the caretaker, and my aunty was my teacher, to the largest college in New Zealand at that time. What a culture shock! I was 15 when Dad took us all to a Billy Graham crusade at Western Springs and I gave my heart to the Lord, and shortly after was Baptised. I remember feeling such a peace and presence of God at that time.
“Sometime later my parents sold, and we moved to a farm in the Waikato area. Our family was torn apart when my father left and moved to Australia. I tried to run the farm and juggle study for my farming diploma, but eventually my mother sold up and moved to Auckland with the younger brothers and sister. I was on my own.
“I decided on a sharemilking position that came with an old farmhouse and one day was taken to an AOG [Assembly of God] church in Hamilton. It blew my mind. Vibrant, with a full band, so alive and exciting. A far cry from the conservative wooden pews with people falling asleep in churches I had known. I spotted this beautiful girl playing the piano and knew she was way out of my league, but over time through the youth group, we were ‘set up’ and she eventually agreed to marry me.
“Together with my wife and three wonderful kids we continued farming but in time decided to try something new and bought a large export apple orchard close to Hamilton. As the business grew so did our need for staff and we began to employ many both local and transient workers plus a reliable foreman. As our children grew up, we felt a sense of satisfaction providing them with a safe and similar environment to the one I enjoyed as a child.
“One hot February night when all the family were asleep, I stole some precious moments for myself to indulge my passion for the Americas Cup yacht racing. The curtains were drawn although the ranch slider door was open letting in some cooler evening air. Following an historic win, I turned off the TV and reached through the curtain to close the deck door. There was no warning when the blow ripped into my skull. I fell to the floor and curled myself into a ball to protect myself from the heavy boot slamming repeatedly into my head and chest. What was happening? Why had the dogs not barked in warning? What did this brutal attacker want? How could I protect my wife and children?
“All I could feel was excruciating pain and as I prised my eyes open I could see blood splattered everywhere, on the carpet, the wall, the ceiling, the curtains. It was like a movie scene, but it was real. I tried to blink, but the blood was streaming down my face and into my eyes. All I could make out was a steel spike sticking out the butt end of a modified shotgun. The wooden stock had shattered from the impact with my head and exposed a metal spike like a pencil that had ripped into my skull to the bone.
“As I lay in a pool of my own blood, slipping in and out of consciousness, I was aware the telephone had been ripped from the wall. Helpless, I could only endure as the attacker tied my arms behind my back with the cord. “I’m going to kill you man; you deserve to be dead” he shouted.
“At some point, I realised this was my trusted foreman, a familiar presence in our home and likely the reason the dogs had not alerted me. What had gone so terribly wrong?
“When I heard an exclamation from the hallway I tried to turn my head and even before I saw her face I knew it was my terrified wife. I wanted to warn her to leave us, but no words came from my mouth. Waves of shock and confusion flooded my mind as I tried to loosen the cord holding my wrists and find out what this was all about.
“Pointing the sawn off shot gun at my head he yelled to my terror-stricken wife to bring the kids – NOW!
“All three children had woken up with the commotion and the nine-year-old had jumped out of her window to hide in the garden. Afraid of what the intruder would do to me; my wife called her back inside and reluctantly they all came into the lounge horrified at the scene before them.
“I cringed when our foreman strode into the kitchen, pulled a large knife from the cutlery drawer and began pacing in front of me once again. The short barrelled gun seemed to have jammed, and his whole body was shaking as he tried to use the knife to free up the mechanism.
“My family came into the lounge, and I could see the horror on their young faces. My ribs felt like they had been broken, and I knew I wouldn't be able to move very fast to protect them. I glanced at the clock on the wall, 1am. I asked if I could sit on the couch and fumbled my way into position after he nodded. I motioned for my oldest ones to sit either side of me and my wife sat on the chair with our whimpering youngest on her lap.
“The attacker was focused on the gun – unloading and reloading it, swearing and threatening as he pointed it around wildly at us. Petrified, my son and eldest tried to negotiate with him “you know us! What do you want? Take anything and just go.”
“Shut up or your heads gonna be blown off too” he yelled in response. He seemed more agitated than ever. “I’m going to kill your father.”
“My wife then tried to reason with him. Speaking calmly, she reminded him how he had helped them with go carts and pick apples. “You must not shoot their father in front of them.” He had accepted his paycheck from her every week, and they had often laughed and joked together.
“Okay” he conceded. “I won't kill him in front of the children”. Picking me up off the couch he dragged me into the hallway, kicking me viciously as we went. “What are you going to do?” I probed. “I’m going to kill you. Whadoo y’think! He yelled, hitting me again. “Get down on your knees!”
“He put the gun to my head.
“Count to five – OUT LOUD!”
“Somehow, all in a single moment, three things happened. I thought, this was real. A wave of sadness washed over me as I realised I would not experience any more life with my family. Then, because of my faith, a soothing wave of deep peace engulfed me. I knew where I was going. To my eternal home.
One – two – three – four
“Run kids run. NOW!”
“At the sound of my wife’s voice, he took off after them leaving me kneeling on the hallway floor.
“When I find you, I”ll kill you all” I heard him say as he ran after them into the night”.
PART 2
“I had no idea where my family was, but I knew I had to act. Struggling to my feet with my hands still tied tightly behind my back, I stumbled back into the lounge room and outside into the pitch-black night. I could hear him yelling loudly in frenzied anger as he stumbled around in his search. Hobbling as fast as I could, I made it out of the house, then tripped and fell painfully into the garden shrubs beside our driveway. I held my breath. I could see his boots only a hands breath away from my face, but he didn’t see me. God blinded his eyes. I heard him go into the house where he began to smash whatever was in his path. I breathed a sigh of relief; at least my wife and kids made it out.
“I shuffle-ran as fast as I could along the road to our neighbours ducking out of sight from every vehicle, knowing he had stolen our car. Reaching their property, I hurled myself over their locked gate, landing hard on the stones and then with my hands still tied behind my back, used my head to bang on their window to wake them. Once they recovered from their shock, they let me in, with me insistent they did not turn the lights on. They rang the Police.
“My wife then arrived at the same neighbour's. My son hid in our packhouse but eventually found us. Where were the two girls?
“It took two hours for the armed defenders to arrive but in that time another neighbour phoned to say our daughter was safe at their place. But which one? When the armed defenders went through the property, they found our youngest 9-year-old curled up, still in her pyjamas, hidden under a bunk. He had smashed everything around her but had not seen her. Praise God!
“Just hours later the Police caught our attacker who had written off our car and locked him away. Our extreme paranoia continued for a long long time. Every noise. Every shadow. Everything seemed a threat as we tried to make sense of the violent home invasion. The apple season had arrived, so I had to go to work each day and at night we all slept together as a family in one room.
“Facing the Police, news media, friends, and our own family who had heard about the attack on the news all took its toll. I was exhausted but unable to rest.
“It was difficult to comprehend normal life after facing near death and the potential loss of my beloved family. It was a terrible feeling being helpless and unable to protect those I loved and wondering when that fatal moment would come.
“Attempting to develop a normal life once more as a family, we attended counselling to teach the kids how to deal with their anger and fear. They all seemed to benefit, but I couldn’t. I failed to recognize the consequences of a head injury and how the brain works, and I didn’t understand depression.
“On the morning of the trial, like scared rabbits, I sat with my wife in the courtroom. Our lawyer had already told us what to expect “we’re not going for attempted murder. We need to go for a lesser charge to ensure a conviction. Between aggravated breaking and entering, wounding with intent, taking you against your will, threatening your children and unlawfully taking a motor vehicle, he’s going to get at least 10 years.”
“It had been 6 months since the attack, and this was the first time I had come face to face with the intruder. It was very difficult to look at the man who turned our lives upside down on that wild night, and my emotions boiled with unexpected intensity. I hated the man who had wanted to hurt my family. In that moment, everything in me wanted to retaliate.
“He stood in the dock and pleaded guilty to all four charges. He was very subdued and unable to look at me. Towards the end of the hearing, the defence brought his faith filled father to the stand. He made a sincere appeal on behalf of his son. He explained that they were a close family, and they were committed to caring for him and supporting him through and after the sentence. The judge liked the sincerity of his presentation and could see he was genuine. As the proceedings came to an end, the court was asked to rise. In the judge’s summary statement, he acknowledged the testimony from the father. I was shocked when the judge finally read out the sentence: six and a half years imprisonment.
“I was angry. I wanted justice. I wasn’t angry at God, but I certainly wondered where he was. I knew if I let the bitterness grow it would become a monster and would eat us up.
“We decided to write to him in prison. It was a simple letter. But every word was genuine.
‘As a family, we forgive you for what you have done’.
Ephesians 4: 31-32 “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as Christ God forgave you”.
“In forgiving him, we were not only freed from bitterness but also touched by God’s grace in the deepest way.
“I have come to know it is God’s love and only His love, that can heal hearts and bring true peace.
“I give thanks to my Heavenly Father, for without him walking beside me, I would not have made it to the point where everything in life now makes complete sense. I have enjoyed a front row seat as He turned even the most dire circumstances into victories. He is more real to me than anything else, and today, I want for nothing, I am privileged and blessed beyond measure”.
Brian Wilkinson book ‘ATTACKED’ is available from Sonshine bookshop, Tauranga or contact Brian directly on brian@maxnet.co.nz