The day had been filled with beach activities, but these were quickly forgotten as this situation unfolded. My friend Dave, a relaxed and friendly character was always ready for a laugh and a joke. He difused the situation somewhat but the conversation continued.  “I suppose you think you’re too good for me?” he said with an accusatory tone. These sorts of questions had no ‘right’ answers to them. Clearly this guy was on the rampage and looking for someone to take out his rage on.

I had lived for eight years on the edge of St Kilda – Elwood-  and knew most bars quite well. Fiztroy Street, with it’s diverse range of colourful locals, backpackers and ‘imports’ from other suburbs was always an interesting place to be. I had encountered many good conversations at the Prince of Wales over a few friendly ales and always enjoyed watching people come and go on a warm summer night. I had seen the odd fight or a drunk thrown out of a night club after a few too many drinks but all in all it was a safe place and I was never concerned about watching my back. This was about to change.

“Do you want to see my gun” were the words that helped my ears to prick up. From that moment I was on high alert and this was not the average late-night encounter. “No thanks” we politely replied after a moments hesitation and careful thought. We had consumed a few beers but had our wits about us. By this time there was a bit of a crowd on the corner of Acland and Fitzroy Street and people were a little curious about the man crouching down with an angry gleam in his eye. He had his hands in a medium sized brown leather bag and was poised to pull something out of it.

Our friend had still not arrived and we were now discussing whether or not this man might indeed be serious about showing us his new toy. “Why don’t you take a hike buddy”, said a deep voice from just over our shoulder. I was somewhat surprised considering this guy had not been part of the earlier conversation. “Why don’t you mind your own busniness”, said our new mate in a nasty tone. “It is my business”, said the big man to our right taking a few steps forward.  I was starting to feel a little uneasy. “Look mate if you want to make something of it then let’s go”, came the words quickly from the troublemaker.

At this point I was considering a move away from the scene. The level of tension was escalating and the only thing keeping me there was basic human curiousity. All of a sudden I noticed a man stepping from Alcand Street onto the footpath and walking directly towards the man who was still crouching down with his hands in the bag. “Hey mate, why don’t you go and pick on someone else or you’ll be sorry you loser!” came the words from the new player. I later learned he was the brother of the other two men involved in the scenario. What happened next has never been easy to forget and always made me look at Acland Street in a different way. To this day I can picture the scene and hear the noise that rang out into the night.

In an instant the crouching man rose to his feet showing what he had been talking about for the past few minutes. It was a sawn-off shotgun. He swung around towards the man approaching him and in one swift movement aimed and then pulled the trigger. The man fell backwards and clutched his chest.

I asked my friend to take over the pressure on the wound and I ran to the nearest public phone booth as I was without a mobile phone. I dialled 000 and asked for the ambulance and then the police. It felt strange to utter the words “I have just witnessed a shooting” into the receiver but it was really happening on this summer night in St Kilda.  The operator took the location and said they would despatch an ambulance immediately. I ran back to the scene where there was now a considerable crowd. The two men who had been involved in the altercation earlier were now kneeling down beside their brother who had lost consciousness. “Has he still got a pulse?” I asked. “Yes, but it’s very faint”, said my friend. I leaned over and slid three fingers gently across the man’s throat to feel a weak beating heart in a limp feeble body. Now the reality was hitting home. Just then I heard the siren of the ambulance and felt a little relieved.

When the paramedics arrived we gave them the little information we had and stood aside and let them do their job. We retreated to become mere bystanders and that gave us time to take in what had just happened.  We were soon snapped out of our contemplatory mood by a policeman’s voice. “Alright folks, we are going to need statements from anyone who witnessed what just happened”.  The next hour and a half was spent sitting in a police car pouring over the minute details of the incident- a surreal experience in itself. We were eventually free to go after signing our statements and giving all our details to the police so they could contact us at a future date. We decided to call it a night after that and never did meet our friend.

In the next few days we were subsequently called in to identify the gunman on closed circuit camera footage. He was captured soon after and held for trial on aggrevated assault charges. Given the shooting was random the prosecution was unable to show motive which watered down the charges somewhat. We were called as key witnesses and gave evidence before a jury in the Magistrates court. The victim was a mere shadow of the man he had been before the incident, having lost a lung and the use of his left side in the shooting. His work as a tradesman was over. As it turned out the brothers had been at their father’s funeral that day and had just attended the wake prior to encountering the gunman. All in all it was not a happy day.           

The gunman was sentenced to seven years gaol with a minimum of four. This seemed rather lenient given he had changed someone’s life forever.  Acland Street St Kilda has never been quite the same to me. When I am up the other end at the cake shops it is one world and when I walk along Fitzroy Street and cross Acland Street late at night it is another world all together. Sometimes I think I can still hear those words that received my full attention that night: “Do you want to see my gun?” “No thanks” I quietly whisper to myself as I cross the road vigilantly.