When I wrote my first book, Spirit Being Human – Discovering Resilience After Trauma (2023), I had to journey back in time. I laid my life out on the floor—year by year—using old journal entries and artwork that symbolised my fifty-four years on this earth. Each year carried memories. Each memory stirred stories, images, and truths I had tucked away for decades. From birth to the moment I began writing, these stories mapped how my personal traumas shaped my survival, my sense of safety, and ultimately, my healing journey. These became my base-chakra stories.
Now, as I write my second book, Spirit Being Human – Understanding Energy, I step into a new layer of this journey. This book explores the sacral chakra—family, relationships, the polarity between the sexes, creativity, yoga, and the subtle energies that influence all of it. Part of this work involves revisiting Chapter 15 from my first book: the story of Mel’s murder. This time, I’m updating readers on where we are today after years of searching through Queensland’s State Archives and trying to access QPS records.
What we discovered early on was that accessing police documents—documents you would expect to be available in a murder investigation—was going to be challenging. We found conflicting information: names spelled incorrectly on official documents, location names that didn’t match, and far too many details that simply didn’t add up for a Queensland homicide case.
This led me to the Office of the Information Commissioner (OIC), because Queensland Police Service (QPS) were unwilling to provide meaningful access to the records we needed. Over the next two years, a full review was undertaken. Eventually, QPS located some documents and granted partial access—none of which were relevant to our search for truth or closure.
We were denied access to 35 photographs and three pages from the autopsy report. As family, we argued that this information is vital for closure and healing. We highlighted the missing evidence, the lack of a coronial inquest, and the well-documented police corruption of the 1970s and 1980s. Transparency, in a case like this, is undeniably in the public interest. And after forty years of unresolved grief, access is more than a request—it is a necessity.
QPS pushed back, claiming the deceased still has a right to dignity and privacy, even after decades. They argued the images were too sensitive, that the autopsy details were too confronting, and that the accused—who was a minor at the time—deserved protection. They also expressed concern about “loss of control” once the material was released.
The Commissioner acknowledged that our argument is compelling. Which leads to the question none of them wants to say out loud:
Is something being covered up?
Police corruption of that era is not a conspiracy theory—it is a matter of public record.
My third book (yet to be written) will explore, in much more detail, the long and painful road of seeking justice and our ongoing fight for the right to information about the murder of our dear friend and island sister, Melinda White, more than forty years ago.
Our case was swept under the state carpet. The original QPS case files were “lost.” The photographs were sealed away for sixty years. Evidence disappeared. Questions were never asked. And a coronial inquest never happened.
For the past two years, the OIC review team worked closely with Carrie and me. Yesterday, I received a phone call from the reviewing officer who finalised the decision on our historic case.
The OIC review is now complete. Questions remain unanswered. So we continue to dig.
But this time, we are not digging alone. The Commissioner has referred us directly to a legal team willing to support us pro bono. This is a powerful step forward.
And so our journey—Chapter 15 of my first book—continues. Carrie and I move gently, courageously, in the direction of truth.
For our beloved Mel.