‘Injustice is relatively easy to bear; it is justice that hurts’ – H.L. Mencken.

Some stories you don’t like writing but you know you should. Like child sex abuse stories which you know might send some poor survivor/victims into a very dark place.

Even close friends. They might not be able to get out of bed for a day or two. Depression, anxiety, PTSD. Might set their recovery back a good bit.

We saw it with the royal commission reports on kids assaulted by churches, orphanages, foster homes and other institutions. Saw it with all the George Pell coverage. Every time a priest, brother, teacher, principal or authority figure is reported, it can bring a flood of horrific memories back to the fore.

But it’s impossible to let the story of Geelong’s Chris Pianto, who parted this vale of tears earlier this month, go through to the keeper unreported.

His courage in the face of impossible odds highlighted what proved to be a staggering institutional cover-up of massively widespread sexual assault against children by our society’s most trusted authorities.

He shocked Geelong, Australia and others further afield when at age 27 he turned a rifle on himself, shooting himself through the upper leg in frustration, anger and anguish at the abuse he suffered at the hands of a teacher at Newtown’s St Joseph’s College. The wound looked like a shark attack wound.

It started a fight that opened the floodgates to a worldwide deluge of horrific abuse cases. And an appalling reluctance by churches and other institutions to accept responsibility or compensation claims. Even a withering royal commission has failed to see proper redress extended to victims.

It took Chris Pianto 35 years to have the Christian Brothers concede $1.25m in damages. But it didn’t come with an apology. Such was the hostility he faced – and hundreds, thousands, of others as well – for highlighting the monstrous rapes and other sex crimes, the conspiratorial dereliction of duty, of the abusers and their masters.

“I didn’t realise what would come out of shooting myself,” he told me after the royal commission was announced. “It was just the desperate act of a dumb kid with nowhere else to turn. I thought ‘F … it, I’ll shock the s … t out of everyone.

“I was desperate to expose the offender and the church and I thought I was the only kid in the world who went through that s … t but since then thousands of victims have been coming out around the world. I hope other victims come forward. We’re not the guilty ones, we’ve got to shake off that guilt.”

For all the terrible things visited on him – and it should be remembered that justice delayed is justice denied – Chris Pianto maintained a huge sense of humour. The extent of admiration for him has been palpable in the sentiments expressed since his early death to another hideous attacker, cancer, across various media platforms:

• “An absolutely wonderful man defined by the utmost courage and perseverance.’
• “An absolute legend of a man … so down to earth and humble.”
• “A good man. Caring and supportive. He will be missed.”
• “He was a warrior. And a generous man. Truly brave.”
• “A lot of people are still angry for you Chris. Tx for the guts that refused to be silenced!”
• “Damaged, angry, sometimes impulsive but full of empathy and care for others.”
• “He taught our tribe the importance of connection.”
• “Rest peacefully Chris. You did a mighty job for so many.”
• “Brave, strong and heroic.”
• “You fought for justice and accountability. You have left a lasting legacy for so many.”

Just one of these would be an admirable epitaph for any person. To find so many so readily forthcoming tributes for a bloke so knocked about yet so strong is, frankly, both tragic and wonderful.

So vale, Chris Pianto, thank you and sleep well.

This article appeared in the Geelong Advertiser 26 July 2023.