Allegations of Abuse
in Institutions |
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Then his composure melts. Fighting back the tears, he rubs
his eyes, cupping his head in his hands as memories flood back of the day 36
years ago he lost his best mate - 11-year-old Clement Matthews, who he says
"died like a dog" behind the concrete walls of Kingseat psychiatric
hospital. "There are times like now I
feel him here in this room with me. It's strange," he says. Lindsay takes a few moments, wipes
his eyes and begins to tell his story: a story he says exposes the brutal
indifference to the mentally ill and the dark side of And it appears Lindsay, despite a
long history of psychiatric problems, is being taken seriously. Based solely
on his witness account of that day 36 years ago, police have reopened the
case into Matthews' death. The Matthews case is adding weight
to calls for a commission of inquiry into claims of abuse at psychiatric
institutions around the country in the 1960s and 70s. Lindsay is one of many former
child patients at psychiatric hospitals such as Kingseat and Porirua who have
filed claims in the High Court seeking compensation for alleged sexual,
physical and mental abuse. Most people have fond memories of
their childhood. Not Stephen Lindsay. When he thinks of his childhood, all he
remembers are beatings, abuse and terrifying social isolation. Now lost in a deep depression he
can't outrun, the scars of five tortured years at Kingseat are seared into
his soul. His days are filled with despair. Thoughts of suicide regularly
occupy his mind. To say Lindsay had it tough as a
child is an understatement. He was the second of nine children. His father
was an alcoholic, his mother, he says, a detached, unloving figure. His father's scathing tongue and
brutal demeanour often reduced the young Lindsay to a cowering shell. He
recalls many a time his father came home from the pub, argued violently with
his mother and then pushed his head through a wall. Before long Lindsay began to
rebel, his innocence replaced with feelings of self-hate, loathing and a repugnance
for authority figures. At 9 years old, Lindsay became too much of a burden
for his parents and was packed off to live with relatives. Before long, they
too had had enough of the wayward boy. In 1963, after various stints with
foster families, Lindsay was sent to the Mt Wellington Residential School, a
home for "emotionally disturbed" children. His hospital records
from that time stated he was emotionally disturbed - "symptoms related
to a long period of gross rejection on the part of the mother". Lindsay's behaviour, punctuated by
episodes of stealing and lying, did not improve and in June 1965, at 12, he
was sent to Kingseat. "I remember arriving at
Kingseat and how terrified I was of the other residents. On my arrival I
thought it was the worst day of my life. I didn't know the worst was still to
come." That day finally came in April
1968. Stephen Lindsay first met Clement
Matthews in July 1965. Matthews was only 8 at the time. According to
Department of Health records, an overweight Matthews had been admitted to
Kingseat because of "mental subnormality associated with disturbed
behaviour of an aggressive nature". Lindsay and "the chubby Maori
boy with the big brown eyes and cheeky grin" soon began kicking around together.
They would amuse themselves by playing practical jokes on other patients,
often working in tandem to make life as difficult as possible for hospital
staff. They became great friends. "We enjoyed getting up to
mischief. Clem had a real cheeky streak in him. It used to annoy the hell out
of the other patients, but he couldn't help himself," Lindsay recalls. Matthews, Lindsay remembers, lived
for food. It was like a tonic to cleanse his troubled mind. And he'd do anything to get it.
Even if that meant robbing the lockers of fellow patients or raiding the
kitchen cupboards. It is ironic that food, something
Matthews lived for, would, if Lindsay's account is true, play such a key part
in his death. For Lindsay, April 28 was like any
other day at Kingseat hospital. The morning began with the normal 6am wake-up
call and, as usual, a visit to Matthews' room. The two headed for the showers and
then breakfast, one of Matthews' favourite times of the day. Then it was off
to the hospital day-room where they spent most of the day mingling with other
patients on the ward. On that particular autumn day there was a lot of
excitement among patients and staff because of a soccer match. The overweight 11-year-old wasn't
a soccer enthusiast, but as staff were preoccupied with the match, there was
a chance to zero in on the kitchen. With the day-room directly
adjacent to the kitchen and dining room and with bread and butter already on
the tables, Matthews pounced. But before he had a chance to
swallow the piece of bread he had swiped, Lindsay claims the boy was grabbed
around the neck by a staff nurse and wrenched to the ground. Then the nurse, he says, delivered
the emphatic blow, a stiff kick to Matthews' back. Lindsay remembers
Matthews' screams piercing the air, followed then by a gentle sobbing. "I had heard something snap.
It was like a branch breaking. I knew at the time his back was broken." Lindsay claims the other nurse on
duty watched without interest. Lindsay immediately went to comfort Matthews,
but says all he could get from the boy was a groan as he slipped in and out
of consciousness. Hospital staff , he says, dragged Matthews up a flight of
stairs before dumping him on his bed and locking the door. The next morning, when Lindsay
went to Matthews' room, half expecting to see his friend ready and dressed
for breakfast, he found Matthews lying face down and barely breathing. Medical staff were called and 15
minutes later pronounced him dead. A pathologist's report found
Matthews had died of pneumonia, a finding upheld by the Among the documentation in the
coroner's report obtained by the Weekend Herald is a statement from
Kingseat's medical officer who says that Matthews' health "immediately
prior to his death had caused no undue concern". While there are statements from
Graham Evans, the doctor who pronounced Matthews dead, day nurse Milton
Ferguson, who tried to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and Constable
Paul Sherriff, who was called, no statements were taken from the two nurses
who were on duty the day before. Lindsay is in no doubt about what
happened. "This has been a massive
cover-up. Clem didn't die of pneumonia. He wasn't even sick. "All I want is some
acknowledgement of what really happened. Then maybe this poor kid can rest in
peace." Police have interviewed the nurse
who allegedly assaulted Matthews and he has told them that although he can
recall Matthews being a patient at Kingseat, he does not remember the death
or whether he was even on duty at the time. He emphatically denies ever
assaulting Matthews. The Weekend Herald attempted to speak to him, but he
declined a request for an interview. The other nurse named by Mr
Lindsay, now retired and living in Manurewa, said he recalled Matthews, but
did not know the circumstances surrounding his death. " ... At the slightest
irritation, as I remember Clement, he used to throw himself on the floor and
start kicking," he said. "If it happened in the dining room, he kicked
tables, chairs, staff, other patients. "I don't believe anybody
would have kicked Clement, because it didn't happen. I was aware of staff
mistreating patients occasionally, but they were sacked. "Kingseat was one of the best
hospitals in Detective Sergeant Dave French
said yesterday there was no time limit on the inquiry. But it
was tough going as some of the staff had since died while others were now
very elderly. |