Luke’s Army – Protecting Children Everywhere!

child abuse

Talking about Bullying, Child Abuse and Domestic Violence, in the hope to make change!

“I am no expert at taking on DoCS in court, but I do know a few of their dirty tricks, and people need to be warned about child protection departments, you need to know the truth before you ever go to them for help. I am Luke’s dad, and I have devoted myself to child protection reform, and exposing the corruption and negligence which is rife throughout the child protection systems world wide.” (Luke’s fathers words)

“I guess I should get used to typing again.I can see I have my share of it ahead of me. I tried my hand at a few web sites a couple of years ago and put it down to experience and decided to concentrate more on Luke.
Weird how we all have senses but nobody really appreciates them til they are gone. I say this as I just found a pair of little Lukes socks. Thank God they were dirty. He left his physical body on the 18th of January, 2009. A month and a half ago. I can no longer experience the joy of touching him, hugging him, kissing those big beautiful cheeks. I can’t gaze at him in wonder, pride flowing from my heart.
I can’t sit down and enjoy a meal with my boy and throw most of it to the hungry seagulls that would gather into a flock, audienced before my son and I.
I will never hear him in real life again, except for the few videos I have preserving his memory. But what I really wanted to hear, what I had been longing for since his birth, was to hear my little Lukey boy say “I love you to Daddy.”
I had the privilege, the luxury, the honour of hearing him say that to me once over the phone, when Luke had another little boy who was fostered together with him, and used to help him talk on the phone. I said “I love you Lukey”, and the little boy said “Say I love you to Daddy.” Straight off Luke said “I love you too Daddy.”
I wish I could thank that little boy for helping my son make me the happiest I have ever been in my life. Luke gave so many of those “happiest I have ever been” moments.
Still plenty of smell in those socks, thank you Lord. I have to become more staunch a Christian now. It is the only way I can ever be reunited with my son, and the best way. I cannot live with the thought of not spending eternity with Luke, or never seeing him again. When they took Luke from me in…
Each time I break down crying I go back to photocopying. Two copies, originals one pile, copy for solicitor and back up copy, so child safety cant pull a shifty or in case they get lost or something. I have a lot of nice people helping me, and some nice ones inside child safety too, although they aren’t permitted to show themselves.
Anyone can see this was a misjustice. They are so used to playing god that they believe within themselves they are infallible, never wrong, they are the law. I keep saying it, I prayed for that boy for 20 years. I wasn’t worthy of being his father, but that was not my decision, it came straight from the Lord above and who am I to question his ways. He let me have my dream for two years and four months, and like his son, my son was tortured and tormented to his death.
Luke was terrified of being taken from me, so much so he would never leave my side and hung onto me always. It was sad indeed, but it also meant I had endless hugs. He was so gorgeous, everyone wanted to pick him up but he only wanted to be with his Daddy. What worried me about this was how he would be when he started school.
He was probably a bit spoilt. I tried to compensate for what child safety had forced upon him, in my view that is, which is to be removed from the person who always put Luke first, protected him, rescued him from danger, Loved him passionately, compassionately, loved him like only a father can, not that all fathers shared my passion for being a father.” (Luke’s fathers words)

Walk a mile in Luke’s shoes

“Walk a mile in Luke’s shoes. Packing up to move on again, and I take these shoes with me everywhere I go, and a pair of his dirty socks wrapped in plastic to keep his smell in them.

One thing I am grateful for is that I never stopped telling Luke how much I loved him. I would say “I love you more than anything in the world, forever and ever Lukey”, and he knew what I meant, because he loved me that much too. I must have said it to him twenty times a day.
Lukey didn’t deserve to be dragged off screaming, then moved to twelve different foster homes in six months, until his head was finally smashed in and he was left to die at the age of two! And now I have to listen to them repeatedly, even at his inquest, telling me how well they looked after him, what a good job they did….
When I first walked into the hospital, the “reunification” bitch was there surrounded by police. It had happened the day before, Luke was left with a fractured skull and wasn’t checked until I rang a second time six hours after his 74 year old foster carer told me “He’s banged his head and gone to bed.”

I begged her to check on him there and then. As soon as I got off the phone I rang docs Qld complaints who told me to ring the manager of Cairns North DoCS Pat Anderson, straight away. She wouldn’t answer my calls.

I rang my visit supervisor, the commission for children, I tried and tried, until all I could do was sit in the corner and cry and cry and cry. I had a dream a couple of days before that Luke was in a little boat drifting out to sea, and I was standing on the shore watching him, there was nothing I could do. He was screaming to me, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

So the reunification bitch is surrounded by police and I said to her straight away, “I told you to get him out of that house.”
All she could come back with was “You’re raising your voice.”
I said “Yeh, I get angry, I raise my voice. You get angry and you take people’s kids off them.”
The police looked away in agreement.

I had waited months for a meeting with that bitch, and had it 3 days before Luke’s “Accident”. I asked for longer unsupervised visits, and a few other things, but at the top of the list was “GET HIM OUT OF THAT HOUSE.”

The day before at his visit he had huge scratches on his face. The next day at his mom’s visit she found a scratch on his penis so bad it had to be seen to by a doctor. He was injured every time I saw him, severe burns and bruising. He was with a 74 year old foster carer who had four other children. I said to them at that meeting, “He is the size of a four year old but he is only a baby, the other kids are gonna bully him.” The foster carer had been reported before for letting the kids bully the younger foster children, another thing I didn’t know. She had many complaints lodged against her.

So I walked into intensive care and there was my little perfect angel, everything I lived for, in a coma. I said to him, “Lukey, Daddy’s here.”
Even though he was in a coma, tears started to roll down his cheeks. He knew I was there. I stayed by his side the whole six days he was there, singing to him, talking to him, so he knew his daddy was there and he was not alone. I did not want Lukey to die alone.

After three days, he was still relying on a machine to breathe for him, and they told me they were gonna turn off his life support. I walked in there and for the first time ever I yelled at my Lukey Pookey. I told him, “Breathe Lukey, Breathe. Breathe in…… Breathe out….’ and I breathed in and out really loudly so that he could hear it.

Low and behold, my little champion started breathing for the first time since he was in the hospital. I was so happy, I knew he could hear me the whole time, but no one knew for sure because he was in a coma.

So there was hope, and they dismissed their plans to turn off Luke’s life support. He breathed mostly on his own all that night until the next morning. But Lukey’s brain was dying. He had been left for six hours with a fractured skull and bleeding on the brain which swelled and starved his brain of oxygen, the coroner would not acknowledge any of this. A blatant cover up of the negligence which caused the death of a baby, my baby.

So as Luke’s brain died off in sections, he would lose control of each of his organs one by one. I asked if I could sleep with him and hold him through the night and they let me. When I woke up in the morning Luke had no reflexes at all left, it was like he had died in my arms during the night, only the machines were keeping him going.

I wouldn’t get out of bed. It was 11 o’clock when the nurse came to get me. She told me the doctor wanted to see me. I told her I knew what it was about and I didn’t want to go.” (Luke’s fathers words)

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