Why Ray Williams is still my hero

People often ask me, "I suppose the church pays for all this, dothey". I tell them straight, that our little church in DulwichHill has never been able to properly afford even the minimum wagefor their priest, and that the Church with a capital ‘C’ (ie. theAnglican Diocese of Sydney) has contributed next to nothing. No.Almost all our support comes from the three local pubs - theGladstone, the Royal Exchange, and the Henson Park Hotel - andfrom the local RSL club (Petersham). The rest of it we pick upthrough the Christians vs. Lions fight nights we put on, andthrough other community events (eg. the Mayor’s golf day, theannual community Street Fair, etc.).

It wasn’t always this easy. In the early years we reallystruggled to keep the Youth Centre open. Then we caught theattention of one corporate benefactor, who was able to keep usgoing long enough for us to put the other support in place. Thatbenefactor was Ray Williams, former chief executive of HIHinsurance - one of the most gentle, caring, and humble men I haveever met, and currently one of the least popular men in thecountry.

It amazes me when I think about it. Some of the best people Ihave ever met are people with terrible reputations. In each caseof course their reputations have been largely media-generated.

When my mate Jim got shot, one of the major Sydney newspapers ranstory entitled "Evil Villain Gunned Down". It featured a pictureof Jim carrying an automatic weapon. The picture had been takenmany years earlier during Jim’s time with the Australian Army. Ithought ‘You bastards! That’s not the man I know.’

When Morde was on trail in Israel I read a variety of articlesthat spoke about him as being a sophisticated spy - working forthe Arabs and out to destroy his country. I thought ‘Youbastards! You have no idea who you are talking about.’

Now I read stories about Ray - about how he manipulated themarket to line his own pockets and how he deliberately defraudedmillions of people, and I think again ‘You bastards’.

Ray was sent by God to help us. I have no doubt about that. Ifirst met him through a fight I took, though Ray himself was nofan of boxing.

The story of that fight was in itself quite bizarre.

I had been sitting with the Archdeacon in my office oneafternoon. He was wagging his finger at me and telling me thatI’d have to close down the Youth Centre. "You just don’t haveenough money to keep it going" he said. And he was right. We wereexactly $1000 short of being able to pay our youth worker’s wagefor the next month. I was feeling rather nonchalant about it alland was telling him to have more faith. At exactly that momentKon, my trainer, came to the door.

"Dave, do you want to take a pro fight?" he asked. "No" was myknee-jerk reaction. I’d just completed my fight career (I’dthought) with a shot at the NSW super-welterweight title inkickboxing. The law in this state at the time was that you had tohang up your gloves when you turned 35. I was 34 and nine monthsat that stage. "How much are they offering?" I asked Kon. "$1000"he said. I told him I’d take it. We raised close to $50,000 forthe Youth Centre through that fight. More than half of that moneycame through Ray.

A guy by the name of Jeff Wells wrote an article about my fightthat was published in the Sydney Morning Herald one Saturday.After that, cheques for as much as $1000 started arriving in themail! Then one morning a courier turned up with two cheques - onefor $10,000 in the name of HIH insurance, and another for $15,000in the name of a Mr R. Williams. I remember trembling when Ireceived these cheques. I’d never seen that much money before inmy life.

I had never heard of Ray Williams, but his business card wasattached, so I rang the number and got one of those classicreceptionist voices, saying "Mr Williams is busy at the moment.Can I take a message?" Then I mentioned my name and all of asudden I was speaking to Ray.

"Ah ... hi ... do I know you?" I started. "No. I don’t think so,"he said. "You’ve just sent me cheques for $25,000" I said. "Yes"he said. "Um ... are you a local from around here? Have you beenwatching our work?" I asked. "No" he said. "Well ... are youconnected with the church or with youth work around here?" "No"he said. "Well ... are you a fight fan?" I asked, scratching forsome point of connection. "Not at all" he said. "I read anarticle about you in the Herald and it looked like you neededsome help." "Yeah, I do" I said. "Well, will that help?" heasked. "Oh yeah" I said, "that’ll help."

That’s how our relationship began. Over the years that followedRay took a keen interest in our work. As things at HIH becametighter, we didn’t receive any further support from the company,but Ray himself would generally turn up to our fundraiser fightnights, and he wouldn’t leave before slipping us a cheque fromout of his own funds. It’s what kept us going while we searchedfor more stable sponsorship from the local community. We owe alot to Ray.

And it wasn’t just the money. It was the man too. He wasinspiring in his humility.

At the time of the first donation we had a guy in our church whoworked as one of the chief accountants in the public hospitalsystem. "Oh yeah" he said to me one Sunday. "If it wasn’t for RayWilliams, half the hospitals in Sydney might be closed." And thenhe added "but he never likes to have his name mentioned. He hatesthe limelight"

We found this to be entirely true. We managed to get him on stageonce to present a trophy to one of our fighters, but it was atough job. He really hated being at the centre of attention. It’sone of the things that makes this Royal Commission so odious tohim.

I still can’t believe the way the media have gone after him -vigorously attacking him for his generosity to hospitals andcharities. It’s not as if he was giving away money that shouldhave gone to insurance claimants. If he hadn’t given it away, Iguess it would have slightly increased the dividend paid to theshareholders, and he himself must have been one of the largestshareholders. I still find it preposterous to think that themedia should have acted so self-righteously indignant about thefact that the poor shareholders were losing potential incomebecause it had gone to the children’s hospital. It’s justridiculous.

But it wasn’t only the media that crucified Ray. Once the newsabout HIH’s collapse became public knowledge, former colleaguesdeserted him, old friends and associates turned their backs onhim, and charities that he’d been supporting for years all of asudden didn’t want to know him. Ray had been on the board of theChildren’s Hospital for as long as anybody could remember. Theysent him a letter saying ‘thank you but your services are nolonger required’. Nobody waited for the results of the RoyalCommission. Nobody waited to see if perhaps he wasn’t the realvillain in the piece. Everyone distanced themselves, not wantingtheir own reputations to be tarnished.

I seriously can’t understand that attitude. I know I’m capable ofdoing some stupid and selfish things, but deserting a mate in histime of need is not one of them. When I think about all thepeople that Ray must have helped over the years, I just can’tbelieve that none of them thought to ring him up and say ‘How areyou going, Ray. Perhaps it’s my turn to give you some support?’

Anyway, my point here is not to spit my dummy. And I’ll be thefirst to admit that I don’t have a clue about big business,insurance laws, or anything of the sort. But I know a good manwhen I meet one, and Ray Williams is a good man and someone whomI’m proud to call my friend. And I’ll be buggered if I’m goingstand by and listen to people pouring crap out on a mate of minewithout saying anything.

To be truthful, I don’t expect that Ray will ever fully regainhis former reputation or standing. I know too much about how themedia works and about how our court system works to ever expectreal justice. As with my friends Jim and Morde, I’m not holdingmy breath waiting for the truth to come out. No. I’ll look to theday when the kingdom of this world will become the kingdom of ourLord and Christ. When that day comes, all the crap will be sortedout.