Deep and utter despair—that's what I understood for the first time
On a Melbourne freeway in April 2020, four Victoria police officers were killed when a truck driver, impaired by eight days without sleep and sustained drug use, struck them as they performed a routine vehicle impoundment. In a Supreme Court pre-sentence hearing, the families of Glen Humphris, Josh Prestney, Kevin King, and Lynette Taylor gathered to speak their grief aloud — to name what was lost and to place that loss before the man responsible. It is a moment as old as justice itself: the bereaved facing the cause of their bereavement, seeking not restoration, which is impossible, but acknowledgment, which is necessary.
- Four families arrived at court carrying grief that has had nearly a year to deepen — widows, partners, children, and parents who have lived every day since April 2020 in the shadow of a single catastrophic moment.
- Mohinder Singh sat in the same room as those families, having pleaded guilty to culpable driving causing death — a man who, witnesses said, had not slept in eight days and believed he was being pursued by witches when he drove his truck into the officers.
- One widow described her life as an ocean of tears; a husband spoke of moving into a long, cold autumn; a partner said his body felt shattered and his heart empty — the language of people trying to make the court understand what cannot be fully understood.
- The pre-sentence hearing, expected to last two days, represents Victoria's reckoning with its worst single-incident loss of police life — the sentence yet to come, but the human cost already spoken into the record.
The courtroom was quiet when Sharron MacKenzie began to speak. Her husband, Kevin King, had been her best friend since they were teenagers — a devoted father, a man she called her soulmate. She wept as she described what his absence had made of her life: an ocean of tears and sleepless nights. She spoke of telling her children their father, their hero, would not be coming home. "For the first time in my life I understood the feeling of choking pain," she said. "Deep and utter despair."
Mohinder Singh, 48, sat in the same room. In April 2020, he drove a truck into four police officers impounding a vehicle on Melbourne's Eastern Freeway. All four — Glen Humphris, Josh Prestney, Kevin King, and Lynette Taylor — died. Singh has pleaded guilty to culpable driving causing death, and the pre-sentence hearing had brought the families to court to speak before sentencing.
Stuart Schulze, husband of Lynette Taylor, described meeting her in 1989 and marrying her in their backyard two years later. When police arrived at his door with the news, he said, he saw three uniformed figures and understood that everything had changed. "I have moved now to a long, cold autumn," he told the court. Glen Humphris' partner, Todd Robinson, addressed Singh directly: "You took the most important person away from me in the most violent way. My body feels shattered and my heart is empty." Humphris' mother had turned off her phone the day before — what would have been her son's 33rd birthday — because she could not bear it. Josh Prestney's brother said his brother had died without dignity.
Court documents revealed the state Singh had been in before the crash. A witness told police Singh had not slept for eight days, had been speaking nonsense about being chased by witches, and had been engaged in sustained drug use and trafficking with minimal rest. After the crash, Singh told officers the same — that a witch had put a spell on him and he could not sleep. The pattern had culminated in catastrophic impairment.
This was Victoria police's worst loss of life in a single incident. The sentencing was still to come, but first the families had been given their moment — to name what had been taken, and to say it aloud in the presence of the man who had taken it.
The courtroom was quiet when Sharron MacKenzie began to speak. Her husband, Kevin King, had been a Victoria police officer. He was also her soulmate, she told the judge—the best friend she had known since they were teenagers, a devoted father to three sons, a man with what she called a heart of gold. On Thursday, in the supreme court, she wept as she described what his absence had done to her life. It had become, she said, an ocean of tears and sleepless nights.
Mohinder Singh sat in the courtroom that day. He is 48 years old. In April 2020, he drove a truck into four police officers who were impounding a Porsche on Melbourne's Eastern Freeway. All four died. Singh has pleaded guilty to culpable driving causing death. The pre-sentence hearing was expected to last two days, and the families had come to speak.
MacKenzie's words carried the weight of someone trying to explain the unexplainable. "I'm here today a broken person," she said. "Since the day of the incident I've not allowed the man responsible for this crime to have any part of my energy or being—he's not deserving." She described the moment she told her children that their father, their hero, would not be coming home. She called it a horrific and senseless way to die. "For the first time in my life I understood the feeling of choking pain," she said. "Deep and utter despair."
Stuart Schulze, the husband of Lynette Taylor, another of the four officers killed, spoke of meeting her in 1989 and marrying her in their backyard two years later. They were inseparable, he said. They could talk about anything unless it was boring or football. When police came to his door with the news, he said, he saw three uniformed figures and understood that everything had changed. "I have moved now to a long, cold autumn," he told the court.
There were four names: Glen Humphris, Josh Prestney, Kevin King, and Lynette Taylor. Humphris' partner, Todd Robinson, addressed Singh directly. "Mohinder, you took the most important person away from me in the most violent way," Robinson said. "My body feels shattered and my heart is empty." Humphris' mother, Katie Tyson, said she had turned off her phone on Wednesday—the day her son would have turned 33—because she could not bear the grief. Prestney's brother Alex said his brother had died without dignity.
The court documents painted a picture of Singh's state in the days before the crash. A witness told police he had not slept for eight days. He had been talking nonsense, the witness said, about being chased by witches. "I had never seen anyone as drug f***ed in my life," the witness told officers. After the crash, Singh repeated this fear to police. "I was tired, couldn't sleep because I was seeing that witch, that witch put a spell on me and I couldn't sleep at all," he said. The documents showed he had been engaged in sustained drug use and trafficking, interspersed with work and minimal sleep—a pattern that had culminated in significant fatigue and impairment.
This crash marked Victoria police's worst loss of life in a single incident. Four officers, four families, four lives interrupted. The sentencing would come, but first the families had to speak, had to name what had been taken, had to sit in the same room as the man who had taken it and say it aloud.
Notable Quotes
I'm here today a broken person. Since the day of the incident I've not allowed the man responsible for this crime to have any part of my energy or being—he's not deserving.— Sharron MacKenzie, wife of Kevin King
You took the most important person away from me in the most violent way. My body feels shattered and my heart is empty.— Todd Robinson, partner of Glen Humphris
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What strikes you most about the families' statements?
The specificity of their grief. They didn't speak in abstractions. Sharron MacKenzie named the exact feeling—choking pain, deep and utter despair. Stuart Schulze didn't say he was sad; he said he'd moved into a long, cold autumn. These are people trying to make the court understand that a person is gone, not just a body.
Why did they need to speak at all? The guilt is already entered.
Because the law requires it. A guilty plea doesn't erase the need for the court to understand the weight of what was lost. The families are part of the sentence—their testimony shapes what the judge hears and how severe the consequence becomes.
Singh was clearly impaired—eight days without sleep, drugs, delusions. Does that change how we read the families' anger?
It doesn't change what they lost. Sharron MacKenzie said explicitly that she won't give Singh any part of her energy or being. She's not interested in his impairment as an explanation. She's interested in the fact that her children won't see their father again.
The witness said he'd never seen anyone "as drug f***ed" in his life. That's a pretty extreme state.
It is. But that's the point—Singh was so impaired he shouldn't have been driving at all. The families aren't arguing about degrees of culpability. They're saying: this man was in no condition to operate a vehicle, and four people died because he did.
What happens next?
The sentencing. The judge will weigh everything—the guilty plea, the families' statements, Singh's state of mind, the law. But the families have now made their case: these were four real people, with partners and children and mothers, and they're gone.