Across the globe, and after a week of heartbreak, we met Matthew Joseph Arnold and Rachel McCrow: Two young 20-somethings, a son and a daughter, a brother and a sister, good friends, who were confidantes to so many.
We knew about Constable Arnold, the 26-year-old, and his friend and colleague 29-year-old Constable Rachel McCrow.
But now we know about Matt and Rachel, two bloody fine individuals we are all poorer for not knowing personally.
Matt, the older triplet brother by a few minutes, but always the big brother. A protector early and an early leader. A big heart. A sports champ. With charm in spades, and a cheeky smile that was a free pass often, including at parent-teacher interviews.
“Matt’s smile and charisma were his best tools and he used them relentlessly,’’ Sergeant Laura Harriss told us.
A year 12 school retreat letter from his parents Terry and Sue reminded him that he had been blessed with height.
“People will have to look up to you during your lifetime,’’ they said. “The important thing is to be the type of man who makes them want to.’’
Matt wrote back to his parents, with words now dripping in prescience.
“I may be gone some day; soon perhaps,’’ he told them. “But just know I will never leave you. I will cherish every moment we’ve had together in my heart forever.’’
Senior Constable Melissa Gibson and Constable Freddy Hartigan provided a similar insight into the life of Rachel, daughter of Judy and Wayne, and younger sister to Samantha.
“Rach was so much more than the uniform she proudly wore,’’ we were told by Constable Gibson. She lit up a room with her smile. Saw the positive, always, in the ugly. Had the purest of souls and the warmest of hearts.
She was the “goof’’ whom everyone loved, Constable Hartigan added. And always reminded us of the good people in a world that could be so dark.
“How lucky are we to have someone that takes saying goodbye so hard?’’ Constable Gibson said.
And yes, we learnt she was a copper who listened and cared with a phenomenal sense of justice who would fight for those she had sworn to serve, after graduating in June last year.
“For every drop of sweat for herself, she would put in 10 for the team,’’ Constable Hartigan told us.
But more than that, we learnt about the young girl who grew up in Brisbane to wear that police uniform.
The little sister with the hula hoop. Sitting on Santa’s lap. In the dress she probably wore to her formal.
A daughter simply hugging her mother; a parent – like her dad Wayne and Matt’s mum and dad Terry and Sue – who is today suffering unfathomable heartache.
We can’t change December 12. We can’t comprehend the evil that visited a tiny rural community, in the heart of the state, on that day.
The public flood of tears will never wash away the mountain of loss that will forever shadow the McCrow and Arnold families, who have lost their son, daughter, brother and sister.
But we can take the cue Matt and Rachel offered friends, every single day. To look for the good hidden behind the bad. The sun, behind the clouds.
And pray that a smile, in time, will follow all of those tears.
This article originally appeared in InQueensland. Read the original here.
