by Fleur Beale
Money was tight, even though the welfare benefit was far more than Phil had hoped for, and he also got assistance to pay the electricity bill, received food vouchers, and sometimes baskets of provisions as well. The children would fall on the baskets. What was inside? Usually there was some item that was a huge treat, such as a bar of chocolate, or a packet of biscuits, and one red-letter day, a packet of crisps.
The trouble was that they were starting from nothing, with every piece of furniture, replacement clothing, and household equipment needing to be bought. It was never easy finding a place to rent: not many landlords wanted a single dad with six kids for a tenant.
Life was tough, but Phil vowed again that life in Australia would be fun for his kids, that they would have a better father and a better life than he had had. He was determined, too, that they would prosper. He managed the money in every way he could. In October of 1993, a month after their rented house had been sold out from under them, they moved into a caravan park where they lived until the new year in a basic, two-roomed cabin. The kids loved it: it was practically on the beach, they were happy being close together in the small space and, best of all, their dad spent a lot of time with them. He rigged up an ancient black and white television set he’d got hold of for next to nothing and they’d rent ten movies for ten dollars. Israel was entranced. The movies taught him much about the world that he hadn’t known. He loved immersing himself in these vivid stories that always ended happily. In a movie you could make a fairytale ending happen. When he grew up, he decided, he would make movies and they would always end happily ever after.
In November the family received an invitation to the Channel 10 Christmas party. They couldn’t believe it – a real Christmas party! They looked forward to it for weeks, talking about what it might be like but they had nothing to base their speculation on because neither of the communities they’d lived in had ever had what they called a party. Perhaps it would be like the Hutterite Christmas celebrations, with presents, music, carols and streamers. At last the day came; they dressed up in their best clothes and set out for the first party of their lives. Phil was just as excited as his kids.
They arrived and stopped still in the doorway so that Phil had to usher them inside. This was beyond their expectations. They’d never imagined so much colour, so many decorations, a tree with flashing lights and enticingly wrapped presents heaped at its base. They stared, shocked at such an excess of riches.
Clowns danced, fairies twirled, stilt-walkers teetered and balloons floated on the ceiling. The family stood still, too afraid to touch anything.
Then Santa Claus arrived. He picked up presents from the big pile and handed them out. He called Israel’s name. Then Dawn’s. Gradually the children realised they were all getting presents from this strangely dressed man. They looked at Phil, checking that it was okay before they tore off the wrapping paper. Israel’s present was a helicopter. Dawn’s a pink brush and comb with a mirror set with sparkling stones. Each present was magical; the day itself was magical with a feeling of unreality. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe they were inside a movie.
Phil loved the whole thing. The production aspect of it especially appealed to him, but he was shocked to discover that the party was for underprivileged kids, and that his kids were so considered. If he’d known that, he probably wouldn’t have taken them, because to him they weren’t underprivileged, they simply had problems to solve. But that party turned out to be such a highlight in their lives that now he donates money to it every year.
By Christmas the family were still living in the caravan park. On Christmas Eve, Phil went off to bed, leaving them to sit up and watch a movie called A Mom for Christmas in which an 11-year-old girl whose mother died when she was young gets her wish for a new mother. It was a poignant movie; the girls were in tears before it was very far through but all six watched avidly till the end. They went to sleep hoping to wake up in the morning to find their mum had come back, hoping for their own fairytale ending.
They moved house a lot in those first years, but in every house Phil would put the photo of Sandy in the lounge. He didn’t want the children to forget their mother, and he worked to keep a connection by encouraging them to write to her, even though she never replied. They were devastated years later when rummaging in a cupboard at home, to come across all their letters, unopened and marked Return to Sender. It was a while before they realised it had probably been their grandfather’s doing and that their father had hidden the letters because he didn’t want them to know their mother hadn’t received them. In fact, Phil had been devastated when the hundreds of letters were all returned from the community in a big bag. After a lot of thought, he decided not to tell the children, but to get them to keep writing and keep believing their mum was getting their letters.
Phil created distractions: he wanted to make the adventure he’d promised them come true; he wanted to give them a bigger life and he didn’t want them to dwell on losing their mother. He wanted to give them the kind of fun other children had, while also helping them fit into and understand this strange world he’d brought them to. Spurring him on was the determination that Neville was not going to win this particular battle. Phil would make sure that he had a good relationship with his kids; he would not be like his father.
Typically, the first adventure he took them on was big and fraught with obstacles – or to him, problems to solve. In the new year of 1994 he decided to take them to Cairns to visit their friends Colin and Dawn, a journey of over 1600 kilometres. They were living in the caravan park because they had no money, so flying to Cairns was out of the question. If they drove they would have to stay several nights on the road. Phil knew these problems could be solved with the right attitude and a bit of ingenuity. He bought an old van with the money from the Hutterites, and to entertain the children during the long days on the road, he bolted the old television on the ceiling of the van, connected it up to a video, and powered it all from the engine battery. The Cooper kids had on-board entertainment before portable gear became available.
They travelled through the heat of the summer up into the tropics in a van with no air-conditioning, the children lying on mattresses and watching videos. At night they slept in camping grounds or at the side of the road. They had no camping gear; it was too hot in the van so they slept outside. The mosquitoes were fierce. They remember it now as a crazy, fun time when they never knew what might happen next. Dad was always there and they were having the huge adventure he’d promised them.
Colin and Dawn welcomed them in Cairns, setting up a campsite for them on their tropical fruit farm. For the children it was bliss to be with a family again, and nine-year-old Dawn was thrilled to meet the woman she had been named after. They stayed through January and February, loving this experience of the exotic Australia they had imagined. There was lots happening, plenty to do, and always in the background a caring, motherly presence.
While they were in Cairns, Phil kept in touch with his family in New Zealand, and heard in late January 1994 that Neville was to appear in the Christchurch District Court for a depositions hearing, to face nine counts of indecent assault involving five complainants who had been between 12 and 19 years old at the time of the alleged offending. Phil was named as one of the complainants.
The trial itself would not take place until December the following year. Phil’s feelings were mixed. Yes, his father needed to understand what he had done, but Phil knew, too, the skill with which he could twist things to show himself in the best possible light. He was sorry he wasn’t able to be in Christchurch with his siblings for the hearing.
On the drive back to Coffs Harbour at the end of February, Phil stopped to pick up a hitchhiker. Nina was a 19-year-old who worked as a nanny and he employed her as a live-in home help. Having Nina lightened the load all round, but while Israel was glad to have the help, he objected to her taking over and would tell her that he was the one looking after the kids, that he had the responsibility here. She would b
e an on-and-off presence in their lives for several years, staying a while then taking off travelling again.
Back in Coffs Harbour, with Nina to look after the two little ones, Phil settled the older children into schools. Justine was glad to be back in school where she could play sport. She made friends easily and fitted in but Israel, Dawn and Tendy struggled. Israel was bewildered by these kids who talked of things he knew nothing about; theirs was still an alien world. They’d ask the normal sort of questions like, How come you talk with an American accent? What does your dad do? Does your mum work? It was impossible to explain his history in a few words. Each day at home he’d practise explanations in his head, but it was too hard. He didn’t want to explain it either; it was shameful and they wouldn’t understand anyway, so he invented stories to make his family sound normal: Yes, he had a mother and a father and yes, they had jobs. He would listen to the other kids talk about their favourite TV programmes and which movie stars they liked – yes, he liked those ones, too. By now the stomach pains were pretty much a constant in his life.
All Israel wanted was to blend in, to be the same as the other kids, but his family situation and history marked him out as different. He avoided school whenever he could, which was easy enough when Nina wasn’t around and his father couldn’t find babysitters for the two little ones. Israel looked after them, cleaned the house, and cooked the meals. Phil remembers coming home one evening tired and despondent about being the only parent, and Israel telling him, ‘Dad, take the kids to the park and I’ll cook dinner.’
When they got back, the table was set and Israel was ready to serve the meal. His education suffered; he missed a lot of his final two years at primary school and the first year of high school. One of the things Phil feels guilty about now is that Israel missed out on being a normal teenager. For Crystal and Andreas, Israel was more of a parent than a big brother.
Phil was constantly trying to earn enough money, be the best father he could, and manage the budget so that the kids didn’t miss out. Moving house whenever the rent went up, though, sometimes meant living in one of the satellite towns outside Coffs. Justine would eventually tally six primary schools and three high schools that she had attended. She and Tendy went to one high school an hour’s bus ride away and she hated it because she couldn’t play sport after school.
Phil was driven, determined to make their life work, and to make sure his kids didn’t suffer. He was equally determined that they weren’t going to grow up feeling deprived or self-pitying, and he planned ways of letting them have treats. About once a month he’d manage to give them each a dollar to spend at the school tuckshop. Those days were highlights.
‘What are you going to get?’
‘I’m going to get chippies. What about you?’
‘I had chippies last time. I’m going to buy lollies.’
‘An ice-block! I’m getting an ice-block.’
The Cooper kids were the only ones who never bought their lunches from the tuckshop – they were the ones who sat down with their two marmite sandwiches and a piece of fruit. Tuckshop day was brilliant, a huge treat made all the sweeter by anticipation. It also made them feel that they were like the other kids.
If his kids wanted something more expensive, such as to go to a movie, Phil would sit them down and together they’d work out a way to get the money. He bought bulk supplies of lollies for them to sell on the street, making a competition of it to see who could sell the most. If they wanted to go to Hungry Jack’s for hamburgers he’d take them around town to travel agencies who all stocked a free magazine with a ‘Buy one, get one free hamburger’ voucher in it. He’d send a different kid into each place until they had enough vouchers to provide hamburgers for half the family. He wanted them to see that they could change their world, and that they didn’t have to settle for less than they wanted.
He developed the lolly-selling into a business, driving the kids to outlying towns where they would go door-knocking in pairs with their baskets of lollies, selling them for a dollar a packet more than Phil paid for them. He split the profits with them 50/50. He employed other kids, too, whose parents would drive them to the various towns. Phil taught his kids to be entrepreneurial, that there was no such thing as can’t, and that nothing was out of their reach. He wanted them to see that they could do and achieve anything because there was always a solution. You just had to be prepared to look for it.
The arrest of the leader of the New Zealand religious sect made news across the Tasman and it wasn’t long before the media in Australia discovered that one of the complainants was living in Coffs Harbour. When Phil was approached by 60 Minutes Australia they asked if there was anything they could do for him in exchange for his story, but it didn’t occur to him to ask for money. Instead he sent them a list of equipment his family needed. The producers must have been bemused, and gave him a cheque for $10,000 rather than buying the list of items.
Phil had never been afraid of the media and became skilled at marketing his story, to the extent that when the women’s magazines started contacting him he had no hesitation about negotiating payment. He was always looking at ways to benefit the children although when he convinced a designer clothing store to provide clothes for them for a year, in exchange for publicity photos of them wearing the clothes, the kids were less than delighted. The outfits were distinctive and didn’t help them in their efforts to blend in with their peers.
After the television documentary screened, people kept coming up to him saying how much they pitied him. Oh, you poor thing, particularly grated. They weren’t poor things. They didn’t need anyone’s pity. Phil didn’t want that and he didn’t want the government assistance he was entitled to either because he refused to accept the underprivileged label. He felt strongly that if a poor me mentality filtered down to the children, then they were doomed. He wanted them to see that they could create their own opportunities, that this strange new world he had brought them to could become a good place for them.
Phil had to find a way to make money. As on so many other occasions, he decided he would start by making a plan. Furniture-making and building were what he knew, and with the $10,000 payment from 60 Minutes he could buy the tools he needed to set himself up. He’d never doubted that he could make money; he’d done it for the community, so he could do it for his family. He regimented the children in order to free up time so he could make furniture in the evenings. Israel cooked and cleaned up the kitchen. Dawn, Justine and Tendy were responsible for putting themselves to bed while Phil bathed Crystal and Andreas, sang them a song, and tucked them up. At nine o’clock Phil started work. He put an ad in the paper the next day and sold what he’d made the night before, making between $50 and $60 each day.
Gradually, the family found they had more money to spend, although the habits of frugality stayed with them.
Back in New Zealand, Melanie Reid of TV3 went undercover to make a documentary of the Cooperite sect as it was still commonly referred to by the public. In May 1994 she rang Phil to tell him she’d just filmed footage inside Gloriavale. She had something to tell him. Would he come to New Zealand? She wanted to film him while she told him, but if when he viewed the footage he didn’t want it included, she would honour that. He couldn’t imagine what it might be about, but assumed it would be to do with the charges against Neville.
Phil took Dawn with him and they flew to Christchurch.
Melanie’s news stunned him.
‘You have a seventh child, a daughter. Her name is Cherish and she’s two years old.’
He watches that footage now and sees himself sitting there, just repeating what she’s said, unable to take it in.
Then the anger kicked in. They had his daughter and they’d kept her a secret. It was all Neville’s doing and Phil wasn’t having it. He would go out there right that minute and get her back.
Dawn wanted to see Sandy and her new sister so Phil took her with him. The television crew followed. Looking back, he says it was a dumb th
ing to do. Neville was never going to let him near Cherish and he had all his community behind him. But the adrenalin was racing and making a plan didn’t cross Phil’s mind. They arrived at dinner-time when all the community were sitting in the big dining room. He saw Sandy, but Cherish wasn’t there, only an empty high chair beside her. Later he learned that Sandy with great presence of mind had pushed Cherish across the table so that she appeared to belong to a different family.
On the film footage Neville jumps up and orders him out. Phil keeps saying that Dawn just wants to see her mother. Neville growls out an order: ‘Gather round, men.’
There is more yelling. Fingers stab the air. Eventually Dawn is allowed to see Sandy in her quarters. Phil is hustled outside. A cameraman is punched to the ground. Phil’s glasses fall off and are trampled. Some of the crew’s equipment is broken.
What wasn’t caught on camera was the men chasing the TV crew out of the building where they managed to grab one of the cameramen, bash him up and confiscate his equipment, including the film he’d shot. They chased the other cameraman through bush and paddocks but as he was running he managed to swap the film in the camera for a blank tape he had in his pocket and throw the other one into a fence post hole. When they caught him, he ejected the blank tape and handed it over. They roughed him up even so and chased him off the property.
