Also published on: https://policeveteransvic.org.au/honouring-ron-fenton/
When a person passes away, it’s sometimes practice to honour them with one word that embodies them best, whether it be smart, kind, or generous. Ron Fenton, however, needs four: one of a kind.
Toward the end of his life, Ron Fenton said he wanted to leave something behind, and so he did; leaving a legacy, a message, and the story of a truly remarkable life.
Tributes have begun flowing in for the former Werribee policeman, who passed away in April at 65, following a long battle with liver cancer.
“He was a hero to many – myself included”, said his son, also named Ron, who took to social media.
Ron returns to work
“I’ll miss him dearly, and if there is an after – I know he goes forward with the same zeal and passion as he approaches any challenge,” he wrote.
As a young cop, Fenton was nothing short of a star. Dux of the Police Academy, as well as the sub officers’ course, he was the youngest recruit to join Search and Rescue. Fenton was only 16 when he joined the Police Academy as a cadet in 1972.
And then, just like that, he was shot.
Kai “Matty” Korhonen, a former army reservist trained to use high-powered weapons, takes to the streets of Clayton on November 21, 1984, armed with a military grade semi-automatic assault rifle and 200 rounds of ammunition. He ambushes security guard Peter Poole, who’s sitting in his car.
Fenton and partner Senior Constable Paul Gilbert are second on the scene, following a call from police to D24. Attempting to stop the car at Rickett’s Point, Korhonen blasts them with 20 shots, injuring one officer and immediately prompting Fenton and Gilbert to respond.
“He’s shooting the shit out of the car,” one officer tells D24.
Hoping to draw Korhonen away from nearby houses, Fenton and Gilbert station themselves next to his abandoned car. Emerging from behind a fence, Korhonen opens fire, hitting the car 27 times. Making a dash for cover, Fenton is shot in the back of the head with a military-grade bullet.
Gilbert, blinded by blood and shattered glass, radioes D24.
“Get an ambulance for my mate. I can hear him but I can’t move,” he says.
Sergeant Mick Romeril chooses to disobey the orders to remain stationary: “We’re in a plain car and we might head up to the injured member and put him in the car.” Two units with four officers race in to rescue the pair.
Cradling Fenton’s skull as they’re dragged out of the scene, paramedics tell Gilbert he’s not going to make it.
Against all odds, he does.
Leaving the hospital with more than 30 pieces of shrapnel in his skull, Fenton is told he’ll never return to even light police duties; which he does.
After 11 years, Fenton made strides in becoming fully operational, learning to write and shoot with his non-dominant hand.
Surviving such an event came at a cost, however. Fenton began to suffer from the effects of PTSD.
“I hit the booze, the pokies and the drugs. I did everything,” Fenton said.
Weighed down by physical disabilities, depression and vivid night terrors, Fenton considered taking his own life.
“I’ve tried to top myself five times,” he said.
Underneath that uniform is a human being…a human with frailties, a human being who can actually suffer, who can actually be hurt by what they see,” he said.
That was until Fenton met a crook from Bathurst and a dog trained in a jail.
800 kilometers from Fenton, in Bathurst Prison, Benni – an inmate serving 18 months for drug offences – was training a chocolate Labrador as a trauma dog from the inside. Fenton travelled to Bathurst to meet Benni and Yogi, after Benni was briefed on his condition and impairments.
“Yogi” was a rescue dog who would’ve been put down, had he not found a home. In a way, Fenton and Yogi saved each other.
Ron and Yogi.
‘‘It is a win-win,” Benni said. “You save the dog, help a veteran with psychological problems, give the inmate a sense of purpose and give back to the community.”
Benni, now out of jail, runs his own successful business and has his own support dog. Fenton spoke highly of him, noting the bond between Benni and Yogi.
“When I shuffle off this mortal coil, Benni will take Yogi back. It is important I know Yogi will go to someone who loves him. He has taken care of me and he deserves to have someone look after him.
“When I was told I had months to live, the black dog, the suicide dog, jumped off my shoulder and started barking in my face. Yogi stood between us and said, ‘Bugger off, he’s mine’.
“So the brown lab beat the black dog.”
Yogi’s care did more than save Fenton, but spurred a legal battle that would see first responders become eligible to claim therapy dogs as a legitimate medical expense.
Fenton applied to have Yogi’s expenses paid under WorkCover, but the claim was knocked back, even though the rescue dog saved money as Fenton no longer needed weekly therapy and to fill himself with drugs to survive.
So Fenton took them on – and won.
“Yogi is now considered a legitimate medical expense. I know five cases of first responders with assistance dogs that can now claim,” Fenton said.
Mick Cummins, a close friend of Fenton’s, spoke of his importance to the cause following his passing.
“Ron was instrumental in having service assistance dogs upkeep be paid for by insurers,” he said.
“‘Can’t’ just wasn’t a word in his vocabulary”.
Following his passing, Ron received a posthumous Order of Australia for mental health advocacy. Yogi now lives in Sydney with Benni, just as Fenton wanted.
“Everyone wants to leave their mark on life and getting Yogi’s Law passed is one of the crowning achievements of my life,” he said.
You can listen to Ron’s story on The Naked City podcast here, created by John Silvester.
“The Naked City podcast will take a journey into the dark depths of the Australian criminal underworld. In this series you will hear recordings of some of Australia’s most dangerous criminals, all of whom have been remarkably frank in their recollections.” – John Silvester
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, call Victoria Police Wellbeing Services on 1300 090 995, Mental Health All-hours Support Line on 1800 628 036 or Lifeline Australia on 13 11 14.