In from the cold: a career built on courage

STEVE Timmins doesn't mind the cold.

And that's just as well, given the 40-year police veteran has spent the past 11 years stationed at Liawenee, arguably the coldest part of the state.

Tasmania Police now has a hard task to find a replacement for the married father-of-two, who has announced he will retire before the winter's end.

Colleagues say he is highly respected throughout the Central Highlands.

Senior Constable Timmins is preparing to make the move to the relative warmth of Launceston within the next few months where he will be able to spend more time with his wife Judy.

He is still hesitating to hand in the final paperwork that will make the exact date of his retirement official - a testament to his enduring love for the job.

Sitting at the dining room table yesterday in the police-leased house he's called home for more than a decade, he reflected on his career.

He's seen some terrible things, witnessed humanity at its worst, and faced death head-on.

But policing has also put him among "some of the finest people you could ever hope to meet" and seen him awarded high honours for excellence in the job.

Pre-Liawenee he spent a decade at Somerset and it was there he experienced a defining moment in his career - one that later saw him awarded the nation's highest award for bravery, the Star of Courage.

A man wielding a loaded shotgun tried to kill him on a Burnie street.

Ask any long-serving police officer and they will always have one particular memory that stands out.

For Senior Constable Timmins, it's that night back in 1988 when he and his partner responded to reports an armed male was on the loose.

They pulled over when they saw three people on the street, two of who turned out to be hostages.

One male had his hands behind his back.

"I asked them `you haven't seen anything or heard any shots have you?'

"The bloke at the back had a white T-shirt on and my eyes went down to his waist, and there's a bloody cartridge belt there.

"I screamed out `that's him' and of course we were in a terrible position. I just jumped out of the car and he pulled a shotgun out from behind his back and just lined me up.

"I remember clearly, I had this terrible thought - `you're dead meat'. I thought the last thing I'd see would be a flash out of the end of that barrel and I'm dead."

The gunman pulled the trigger but luck was on the policeman's side. The gun misfired.

The gunman pumped another cartridge into the chamber and raised it for a second shot. Senior Constable Timmins ran at him.

He said it was a better alternative than being shot in the back: "You're going to die trying."

Senior Constable Timmins grabbed the shotgun and wrestled with the gunman as he tried to shoot him in the stomach. The gun fired a second time but missed "by millimetres".

Senior Constable Timmins won the fight - and the gunman was later convicted of attempted murder.

During those years Senior Constable Timmins was also first on the scene of three gruesome murders in the North-West, one in which an elderly man was stabbed to death by a drug-crazed stranger simply because he opened his front door.

Later, ready for a change, he saw the Liawenee position advertised in the police gazette.

His stellar record in front-line policing made him an easy choice for the role.

"I still remember the day I arrived here.

"I'd driven up in my old bomb and it was bitterly cold and snowing.

"The wife of one of the park rangers had started the fire for me and I remember how grateful I was to this day."

He had a tough job ahead of him back then with many people apparently operating under the assumption "the rule book got thrown out the window at the first cluster of gum trees on the drive in".

"There was a lot of lawlessness when I first came here," he said.

"A strong police presence was needed and my experience in front-line policing had given me the skills I needed to enforce change for the better."

He has made a lot of friends in the remote location over the years in a job heavy with responsibility.

"I've had to make decisions knowing that the wrong one could see people perish.

"You're on call 24 hours a day and there's been plenty of times where I've got the roast in the oven at the end of a long day then the call's come through and you're straight back out there."

A recent example last Friday saw his chat with The Examiner postponed after he learned an elderly man permanently camped in the bush was missing.

Senior Constable Timmins knew something was wrong and after searching the remote bushland found the man on the ground unable to move.

He would have been lucky to have survived another day.

"That's the job. And I've always loved it, loved the opportunity to help people and do some good where you can.

"I can honestly say that I've woken up every day happy to go to work. Not everyone can say that."