‘I stared down Australia’s most wanted man’
Held hostage and at gunpoint, Coast woman reveals 30-year secret of what happened next
WITH a gun pointed directly at her, Iona Abrahamson stared calmly into the eyes of Australia’s most wanted man. “Why aren’t you afraid?” asked John Porter, the fugitive at the centre of a national manhunt who had shot two policemen in NSW, killing one.
Held hostage in a Surfers Paradise unit for hours, Iona answered simply and truthfully.
“My 15-year-old son was killed seven years ago, and now I’m not afraid of anything.”
In fact, the tragic death of Iona’s son David, who was hit by a semi-trailer on Brisbane Road, Labrador, while riding his bike in 1982, not only saved her life on that May day in 1989, but ultimately gave her purpose in helping others cope with loss.
Not only did Iona start studying to become a psychologist in her 40s, she later earned her master’s in grief counselling and now, at the age of 74, she has just earned her PhD.
The newly named Dr Iona was even asked to speak at Oxford University on her thesis, which was a 95,000word narrative inquiry into managing infidelity counselling, but had to cancel her trip to England due to COVID.
While disappointing, it was a mere molehill compared to the mountains of trauma that Iona has climbed during her life. And now, in her 70s with a thriving career, a 56-year marriage and multitudes of grandchildren, she is perhaps at her peak. Certainly from the moment of her birth, the only way was up.
“My parents didn’t name me for 12 months. I was just called ‘baby’,” she says.
“I was the third daughter and my father desperately wanted a boy, so I was a real disappointment. And I felt that all through my childhood.
“But from the time I was a child, I have always loved learning and I think I found a lot of solace in my books and in school.”
Indeed, that is precisely where Iona turned after losing her child, the second of four, in a road accident.
Almost 40 years after his death, not a day goes by that she does not think of David. She treasures every day of the 15 years she spent with him.
“I remember that day my mother kept hearing reports on the radio that a 25-year-old man had been struck and killed by a truck but that no one had claimed the body,” says Iona.
“She kept saying, his poor mother.
“That afternoon, my brother-in-law came over and said he had to take my husband and I to the police station. They were worried and had called the police and they knew his bike matched the description.
“David had an athletic build, he looked older than 15, that was why they misidentified him.
“But as we were driving to the police, I thought he had just been in a bingle. Then we walked in and they asked if we were here about the fatal accident. I collapsed in a heap.
“My poor husband had to go to the morgue at the Gold Coast Hospital and identity his body.
“A truck and trailer carrying 30 tonnes of Besser blocks was overtaking a car on double white lines when an oncoming truck forced the other to swerve back into the left lane and in the process sideswiped David in the bike lane.
“His bike went one way and didn’t get a scratch. He went the other way and was run over down the length of his body. Every bone was broken.
“My husband had such trauma from seeing him in the morgue, it was awful. You can’t describe it. Those were the worst days of my life. My husband describes it as being like an amputee, losing your right arm. You don’t die, you can still function, but you are never whole again.
“He was the most beautiful boy, with so much potential, living in the light of eternity.
“We were so privileged to be his parents, even if for just such a short time.”
As she struggled to cope with that loss, Iona began learning about grief counselling, first speaking to other parents who had lost a child and then eventually enrolling to study psychology.
She says helping others became one of the best ways to help herself.
And in fact it saved her on that fateful day she opened the door to John Albert Edward Porter.
“I was actually dropping some mail to one of David’s best friends, Chris,” says Iona.
“There was a knock at the door and when we answered this man, dressed all in black, stepped in holding a gun.
“His first words were ‘Do you know who I am? I’m Australia’s most wanted man. I’m John Albert Edward Porter and I wear black because I’m bad’.
“He pointed his gun at us all the time and at one time squeezed the trigger but said it was okay because the safety catch was on.
“I figured I could be dead very soon, I knew who he was and that he’d killed a policeman.
“But I wasn’t afraid and he saw that. Losing my son was the worst thing that could ever happen, this didn’t compare. That is truly and honestly how I felt, I wasn’t afraid of my own death at all.
“I think because I didn’t have that fear, I was able to reach out to him and treat him as a person. I could use some of the skills I’d learned studying counselling and try to help him – and Chris and myself.”
Iona says one of the first connections she made with Porter was offering him a meal.
She says she made him a tomato sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then started making polite conversation.
“I actually asked him what he thought of daylight savings,” she laughs. “It’s a conversation that never grows old in Queensland.
“He was almost shocked that I was asking him his opinion about something. I don’t think anyone had ever done that before.
“As we were talking, he told me that his life of crime started when he was eight years old. He stole an exercise book and when the police caught him, they beat him up. He was just a little boy.
“But he was indigenous, so he was never treated the same way a little white boy would have been treated. That was something that I understood even then. I know what it is to have your heart broken, and I could feel that brokenness in him as well.
“It doesn’t excuse anything he did, there is no excuse for killing anyone. But it did give me empathy for the life he led, and for the few pathways that were ever open to him.”
From a homemade sandwich, to casual
‘He pointed his gun at us and at one time squeezed the trigger’
conversation to childhood wounds, Iona continued to dig deeper.
She said Porter eventually shared with her a poem he had written, even transcribing it for her to keep.
“I just knew that I had to keep connecting with him to make him see Chris and I as human.
“But I was amazed at his beautiful poetry. He even wrote it down for me to keep.
“Later on, I saw him flipping a coin and he said he was trying to make a decision on whether to drive to Brisbane or Sydney.
“I knew that an unsettled mind was an unstable mind. And the last thing you want for a fugitive holding a gun to you is an unstable mind.
“So I said we should look in the Bible for inspiration, and the page I turned to was in Proverbs, and it said: ‘We toss the coin, but it is the Lord who controls its decision’.
“Can you believe it? I told him God would give him the right answer through the coin toss. He threw it three times and every time it was heads for Brisbane. Then he was settled, and I thought maybe I could push my case to be set free.
“I had been there for five hours and I could see that he wanted to get on the road. He agreed to let me go but I had to promise not to call the police.”
Iona said she called her husband from a nearby public phone and told him to come as she did not want to leave Chris on his own.
Iona says her husband ultimately decided to call the police as he could not imagine what he would ever say to Chris’s parents if something happened to him and he had not notified authorities.
She said four unmarked police cars soon pulled up, and shortly after Chris drove from the building with Porter inside.
“They managed to arrest Porter without a shot fired. They actually said he was obviously in a relaxed state from all our talking because his gun was wrapped in a tea towel and tucked in his waistband and he couldn’t get it out in time.
“He was later sent to NSW and myself and Chris had to appear in court. When I had to testify I made sure to point out that I had never called police, because I wanted him to know that I had listened to him.
“The prosecutor asked me if he had read me a poem and I explained that actually he had recited and then written his own poem down to give me. And that it was beautiful. When I said that, I looked over at him and he had tears in his eyes.
“He was sentenced to 40 years and I’ve never communicated with him since.”
Iona says after that incident, she was further inspired to pursue her career in counselling and psychology, knowing that her skills helped make the connection that saved her life.
Despite counselling hundreds of clients over the years, eight years ago she decided to pursue her PhD in psychology.
She says she decided to focus on infidelity rather than grief counselling, because it still dealt with loss but had attracted little research.
“What really concerned me when I started looking into this is how little we know about the correct way to counsel infidelity. One woman said she was told that if she offered steak at home, her husband would never have gone out for hamburger. It’s ludicrous.
“But worse than that, it’s dangerous. Infidelity is frequently at the root of domestic violence. And during this pandemic we’re seeing more of it than ever. We need to treat this so carefully, yet so little attention has been paid to it.
“That’s why there has been so much interest in my thesis, including from Oxford.
“It’s just incredible to me that anyone would be interested in what I’ve done, let alone at my age.
“But now I have plans to run workshops on the Gold Coast for counsellors and clients, and once COVID is over, around the world as well. It’s such a privilege to help.
“Of course if I could have one wish it would be to have David back, but when I look at all that has happened because of his death, it feels like such a tribute to him.”
Even in her mid-70s, it feels like life is only reaching its peak for Iona.
And no matter the challenges ahead, she is still the same person as she was back in that Surfers unit in 1989 – unafraid.
‘When I said that, I looked over at him and he had tears in his eyes’