Defence lawyer fought against bullies and injustice
There were two Jonathan Temms, according to the late Queen’s Counsel’s wife, Lynnelle. One was the lawyer and former Law Society president described by a fellow practitioner as a passionate and formidable operator, the man who acted in high-profile cases such as the Nia Glassie trial.
Temm also defended ‘‘stop-go’’ murderer Quinton Winders, the man found guilty of the 2016 killing of George Taiaroa. It was a trial in which Temm dropped a bombshell with a forensic cross-examination of a witness, raising for the first time another possible motive – and suspect – in a shooting death that both shocked and puzzled the nation.
Lynnelle, who was Temm’s second wife, said the man who ‘‘took her breath away’’ when they first met had a burning passion for the law, and against bullies and injustice.
‘‘He strongly believed that people had the right to access justice,’’ she said.
‘‘Trials when there’s already an impression of guilt, and it’s very hard for people to understand how you can represent someone who is so clearly guilty. Jonathan’s response to that was to explain to people, ‘Imagine you’re accused of something, wrongly accused, my job is not to judge them. It’s to make sure they’re crunched by the numbers, my job is to make sure that the trial is as fair as possible, and they are heard.’ ’’
He ‘‘invested himself in every single case he represented somebody in’’, and for a case such as the Winders trial, ‘‘it is all encompassing’’.
‘‘But he also had a great ability to be present as a husband and a father at the same time he was doing those things. We were very lucky he managed to juggle it all.’’
The job did present its share of sleepless nights, and sometimes meant dealing with emotional issues. It was a fact Temm acknowledged himself, she said.
‘‘I remember him saying to me when he went to the Bar in 2005, ‘I reckon I’ve got another 15 to 20 years.’ Criminal trial lawyers have a shelf life before it really begins to impact their psyche, because they really do deal with some shocking things.’’
One anecdote, involving an incident at the start of Temm’s career in the 1990s, captured a side of the man who, according to Lynnelle, ‘‘couldn’t stand bullies’’.
It involved an irascible partner at the law firm where Temm was a junior, who would often give his secretary a dressing
down. That stopped after Temm confronted the much more senior lawyer in his office.
‘‘We could all see them, the walls were glass. He was in there saying his piece and that man never did it again,’’ Lynnelle said.
This was the man fellow Rotorua lawyer Tim Braithwaite described as a formidable operator, ‘‘but passionate and
extremely supportive of the younger professionals coming through’’.
‘‘He’d often pick up the phone and call junior lawyers with words of encouragement.’’
It’s a view echoed by Law Society president Tiana Epati. ‘‘I know Jonathan’s passing is a particular loss for the criminal bar and for his friends and colleagues in Rotorua,’’ she said.
‘‘Jonathan was incredibly generous with his time and always willing to help his fellow lawyers. When I took on the role of president, he was one of the first people who reached out and made sure I knew I could contact him at any time if I needed to talk about the pressures of the role.
‘‘We have lost a leader, a great advocate and a good, kind man.’’
Temm’s passing, from a brain tumour, was also acknowledged by Rotorua District Court Judge Marie Mackenzie.
‘‘In 2019, Mr Temm QC was called to the inner bar in recognition of his legal ability and contribution to access to justice issues.
‘‘He was passionate about advocacy, the law and doing justice for all in the community, including the vulnerable and disadvantaged. Mr Temm, QC, always strived to achieve justice for all. He advanced cases in a firm but fair way.’’
Mackenzie said Temm was highly respected by the judiciary and ‘‘leaves a significant gap in the senior criminal bar in Rotorua’’.
Temm was also passionate about Rotorua, the place he made home in 1995 after he and Lynnelle moved from Auckland.
He campaigned against the plan to axe the city’s rescue helicopter, and once turned up at the AGM of the Rotorua Energy Charitable Trust with a preprepared slide show pointing out the trust’s poor comparative fund performance.
Outside the courtroom, Lynnelle said Temm was a man who enjoyed golf – though he would have preferred a lower handicap – and had a real passion for fishing. ‘‘The trout would benefit from his closing,’’ she said. ‘‘Most times he’d come home with a fish or two.’’
Lynnelle laughs when she mentions star signs and horoscopes, but can’t help but think he was ‘‘a bit of a Gemini’’.
‘‘Jonathan was a bit of a clown at home . . . we used to refer to it as good twin and bad twin.
‘‘If he was acting the goat and people saw him, he didn’t care, he knew how to have fun.’’
At their last wedding anniversary before his diagnosis in 2019, he told her to prepare for a trip.
‘‘He starts driving me and just drove me all over the show, without telling me where we were going.’’
First he suggested a spot of milking at a son’s farm, earning a ‘‘you better be joking’’ rebuke.
He was. ‘‘Anyway, he took me to the Chateau in the end. He was always trying to do things that took you by surprise. I was a very lucky girl.’’
Jonathan Temm is survived by five children and one grandchild.