Prologue: "God has plans for that boy"
Joe Frost
On 12 October, 2005 – 11 days after the attack – my Dad, Dietmar Lederwasch and I were in Canberra, where we had been invited to lay a wreath at Parliament House for the third anniversary of what was now being called the first Bali bombing.
Tony Abbott was a generous chaperone who made sure we felt welcome. We met Prime Minister John Howard and Leader of the Opposition Kim Beazley. I expressed to both of them, separately, my desire to join the Australian spy agency, ASIO. Each man laughed, immediately and loudly.
It was the correct response.
On the drive home, my Great Aunt called Dad. Doreen was a Nun, I'm named for her religious order. We had a good bond.
But when Dad answered on speakerphone he glanced at me in the rearview and I shook my head. I couldn't do a chat.
So Dad caught up with his Aunt. Talked work, talked life. At some point, I came up.
“God has plans for that boy,” Doreen said.
It stuck with me. Not because I felt I had a sense of destiny. But because if God had a plan for me, that meant God had a plan for Jennifer, and Colin and Fiona. For Brendan. For all 20 people who died.
And all their families. And all their friends. And all their work colleagues, student-body members and teammates. Their fellow parents at any number of the school, sporting or social commitments. The people they have only met recently but enjoy a chat with. And all those people who they miss because they haven’t seen them in a while.
A person’s life can be so rich, grow so large, affect so many when it is cruelly taken away.
God has a plan?
God is great. That’s what Salik Firdaus said.
A few months later, the AFP came to my parents’ place to debrief us. It was when they gave me back my lucky shirt.
We got an update, the details of which elude me. I really only had one question.
Why wasn't I injured – or worse – in the blast.
They told me the likely answer was that the terrorist had been facing me when the bomb went off. His body wore the brunt of the shockwave, which knocked me to the floor.
Basically, I was in the bomb’s blind spot. Just close enough to hit the ground before the shrapnel ripped through the body of the man wearing the pack.
When I spoke to David Craig, he said the bombers used their body as a shape charge.
“They identify the targets, turn 180° and then detonate...”
The Bali Project, the planning document all three suicide bombers were following, had specified that “the deaths of foreign businessmen will have a greater impact than those of young people”.
The youngest person at the table, perhaps Salik correctly guessed I was not a businessman.
Shape charge.
He was facing my direction. That’s why I didn’t get hit with any shrapnel. Maybe he made the choice to face the one who’s not a businessman.
Perhaps the last thing he ever saw was the back of my head.
I wonder about him sometimes.
We were about the same age, both came from big families, both attended religious boarding schools.
They are shallow comparisons. Our lives were very different.
Perhaps where we really diverged were our teachers. Salik had men like Noordin Top and Azhari Husin, telling him that actions of death and murder were the answer.
My teachers are people like Dietmar Lederwasch and my Dad, whose answers are love and life.
The lessons of my teachers have helped me create a home with my family.
The lessons of Salik’s teachers brought him to an abrupt and violent end, far too young and full of hate.
Whether he meant to or not, Salik Firdaus’ final act on this Earth was to save my life while simultaneously maiming and murdering others.
What drives a person to that?
Allahu Akbar. Maybe God is great. Maybe God a plan.
Me? I just chalk it up to dumb luck.
I’m grateful of it.
Act 1: A violent conclusion to four years of peace
Joe Frost
It was almost four years after the 2005 Bali attack that Noordin Top and his network reignited their campaign of murder.
On 17 July 2009, the JW Marriott and Ritz-Carlton Hotels in Jakarta were each hit by a suicide bomber. Nine people – including three Australians – died in the blasts, while around 50 others were injured.
The planning showed a new level of sophistication for Noordin’s network, having established a cell member as an employee at a florist in the Ritz-Carlton all the way back in 2005.
This inside knowledge helped the bombers to surreptitiously rent a room in the hotel and then bring in the materials to construct the bomb in that room.
Associate Professor Quinton Temby of Monash in Indonesia remembers a sense of security violently ripped apart.
Quinton Temby
There was this lull, where it looked like maybe Nordin had disappeared or maybe he'd been killed already, and it hadn't come to light. No one knew what was happening. And then all of a sudden, this 2009 attack on the Ritz-Carlton and the Marriott Hotels, which are connected through one of the major malls here in Jakarta.
Yeah, it had a major psychological impact because there was this sense that we're still living in the era of terrorism in Indonesia.
It had a, as I felt it, sort of like depressing effect on the sort of public psychology, i f I can call it that. And it took out and killed and maimed well-known figures in the business community.
Joe Frost
The attack came less than a month after police had raided the home Noordin’s father-in-law, Baridin, where they had discovered explosives. Noordin and Baridin had escaped before the raid.
It is believed the raid may have led Noordin to execute the attack on the hotels sooner than originally planned.
While police found the now-expected decapitated remains of the two suicide bombers, this time live leads were discovered within hours of the explosions.
Reviewing hotel CCTV footage showed the role the florist had played in executing the bombing. And while he had obviously fled, the name, address and four years of employment history meant there were plenty of viable lines of enquiry.
However, before they nailed the florist, the Indonesian authorities found Amir Abdillah – the man who had booked the hotel room in which the suicide bombers had stayed and constructed the devices.
Abdillah was arrested on August 5 and over the following three days, police surrounded two houses – one just outside Jakarta, the other in Central Java.
The siege at the house near Jakarta led to the deaths of two suspected terrorists, both fatally shot. A search of the premises found 500 kilograms of explosives – it is suspected this enormous haul was going to be used in a plot to assassinate the Indonesian President.
As for the siege in Central Java, it was another violent standoff, as bullets and bombs flew over 17 hours.
At its conclusion, a single dead body was found in the building, and the Indonesian authorities declared they had killed Noordin Top, the Most Wanted Man in Southeast Asia.
The relief and celebrations, however, were short lived.
On 12 August, Indonesian authorities returned results from DNA testing, which showed the man in the morgue was not Noordin. Rather, the bullet-riddled corpse was that of the florist who had been so central to the bombing of the Ritz-Carlton and Marriott hotels not a month earlier.
Noordin had escaped. Again.
Again.
The amount close calls that saw members of Noordin's network eliminated but he himself just managing to escape could have been perceived as having something of a smell about it.
Tony Abbott played an enormous role in Bali 2005 – both in Kuta and then in Canberra – but his time as Minister for Health, Leader of the Opposition and then eventually Prime Minister gave him an understanding of the broader security ramifications few could match.
I asked him about Australia's relationship with Indonesia regarding security and terrorism in the wake of so many deadly attacks affecting our two nations.
Tony Abbott
Our relationship with Indonesia was pretty fraught in the early 2000s but thanks to the wonderful relationship between John Howard as Australian Prime Minister and President Yudhoyono – SBY – as the Indonesian President, those incidents, the terrorist incidents, brought the relationship between Indonesia and Australia to a real high point because we worked together on issues that were very, very important to both of our nations. I mean, obviously the wellbeing of the Australian victims of those terrorist attacks, the importance to the Indonesians of cracking down on Islamist terrorism for their own internal stability.
It was a bit of a golden period in terms of the relationship between Australia and Indonesia, when both countries realized how much we needed each other and could do for each other.
So look, the relationship between Australia and Indonesia has waxed and waned over the decades, but our cooperation over those terrorist incidents was very, very close, very, very candid and intimate, and thank God it was.
Joe Frost
Did you take any personal interest in the Indonesian police tracking down the perpetrators?
Tony Abbott
Look, I did. I was confident that they would do the best job they could. And I was also confident that our police would be absolutely ferocious in trying to ensure that that happened. And given the close and candid relationship that had been established, I was pretty confident that whatever could be uncovered would be.
And you know, people who are guilty of terrorist crimes get punished pretty severely there. Frankly, they deserve to be. If anything, we're too soft on these things.
Joe Frost
Of course, a relatively close relationship between the governments and even law-enforcement agencies of Australia and Indonesia would count for very little if there was strong sympathy towards the cause of al Qaeda in the Malay Archipelago – and, in particular, its mysterious and charismatic leader.
Noordin had been called a master of disguise, even a master of hypnosis, during his years on the run – his success in evading capture leading to a reputation for having some sort of black-magic mastery.
It’s the kind of personal legend that can mask the horrors of that same person’s unspeakable crimes.
So I asked Quinton Temby what the prevailing public sentiment in Indonesia was towards Noordin.
Quinton Temby
I'd say it was a fairly uniform attitude towards him, you know, strong support for what the police were doing. By that time, he was known as being behind a string of bombings.
And don't forget, there's this sort of nationalistic dimension to this that the two main bombers on the run, creating havoc in Indonesia, were Malaysians. And so, you know, this didn't do great things for Malaysia-Indonesia relations. People saw this as two Malaysians running amok in Indonesia.
In some ways, it was made for TV to have this sort of foreigner, this, this Carlos The Jackal-type foreigner, on the run for so long and and then to finally catch him.
Act 2: Noordin’s last stand
Joe Frost
While Noordin had managed yet another Houdini act, throughout August and September of 2009, the arrests continued.
And with every member of al Qaeda in the Malay Archipelago interrogated, Noordin’s noose grew tighter.
Then, on September 17, 2009, police raided a hideout near Solo in Central Java.
This time, they had Noordin Top pinned down. And it was confirmed in real time they actually had him.
Because a TV camera crew was broadcasting it.
Quinton Temby
it was just this very high-tempo series of events leading up to a dramatic siege of the hideout Noordin was staying in and then a shootout with the police, and that all unfolded live on television.
I remember being fixated on the TV. It was really quite extraordinary, because it was in a public location, a kind of isolated village house at the sort of the edge of a village. But the point was, it was in a location that I think it was impossible for the authorities to shield from the television cameras. And so typically in police sieges like this, what they don't want is a live feed of the activity from behind the lines, because then of course, the militants, if they can get access to that feed, they can use it as intelligence to counter what the police are doing, but none of that was possible, and this was all of a sudden, happening and unfolding live on TV.
You could see the apprehension in the police as they expected Noordin and his followers there to not surrender and to try to take out as many of the police as they could with them and that seems to be their strategy – as Azhari had done before them. Remember that Azhari had that strategy, that he wasn't going to be arrested, he would go out by suicide or in a shootout. That was the problem that the police had when they finally caught up with Noordin and it leaded to this protracted, quite messy exchange of fire and explosives.
Joe Frost
I asked Quinton if he had a sense of the moment as he was witnessing it. That this was the last stand of the infamous Noordin Top.
Quinton Temby
I just remember being amazed that it was going to be played out on live TV and that I'd never seen anything like that before, where you see this approach to Noordin’s safe house, for example, you see before they start firing, and you, then you see, see it all the way up to the police breaching the house.
So, yeah, I just remember being incredulous that there was a live feed of the event, and that it had all come down to this for someone who, you know, was in the shadows for such a long time, such that it wasn't even clear what Noordin looked like, and it led to all these conspiracy theories about, you know, who was really behind the attacks and who was really involved from overseas, suspicions around Malaysia – just because there was such a lack of information about Noordin, he was so successful for a while in hiding his movements and his appearance. And then it all came down to this very public siege and killing on air.
Joe Frost
The dead man in the house wore a long, thick beard – he looked very different to the clean-shaven Noordin of wanted posters. But the fingerprints matched those on file for Noordin.
Still, after years of close calls, definitive proof was needed. And two days later, on September 19, DNA tests confirmed that this time – finally – they had brought down one of the most consequential terrorists in Indonesian history.
Noordin’s death signified an end, of sorts, to a chapter in Indonesian terrorism – from Christmas Eve 2000 through to the twin hotel bombings in 2009, it had been a decade of violence led by a cadre of connected individuals.
But while he had been punished severely, it was difficult to say Noordin had been brought to justice. Death in the field at the hands of the police is a far better fate than having to answer to a judge and then rot in prison for years before finally being put in front of a firing squad.
When I spoke to Nanda Daniel, the Indonesian woman who recounted in a previous episode how she had survived the attack on the Australian Embassy in 2004, she had a far more creative suggestion for what men like Noordin deserved.
Nanda Daniel
It’s too easy you know? You just killed that by the officer? It’s just too easy for them. I said, I want him to be put in somewhere and gather all the victims and the victims’ families, and I want my government to give me - you know the razor?
Yeah? I want to have that one and we can slice it a small slice in their skin and put some lemon and… [laughs]. I think that would be fair, you know?
What we’ve been through is very painful.
The psychologies is very painful. And I think it’s worth it - not the death sentence.
Joe Frost
But don’t mistake Nanda seeking a bitter punishment for her carrying bitterness.
Because while Noordin’s story ended in a violent standoff, Nanda’s story continues.
These days, she visits schools and prisons across Indonesia, sharing her story as a survivor to help battle the scourge of extremist violence with truth and knowledge.
And Nanda makes these visits alongside other people affected by terrorism: former terrorists.
Nanda Daniel
It took me… two years I guess, to forgive them, to be able to talk with them.
It’s very hard the first time but by time… yes we can work together and make friends with them finally.
In my first meeting with the ex-terrorist in 2015, I met with... His name is Ali Fauzi, he’s Ali Imron’s brother. The one who made the bomb for the Bali, Bali Bombing 1 - I met his brother.
Yeah it’s been ten years we worked together. During the project we had a chance to communicate, to talk with each other. And I ask about their family and from that, it finally make me realise that their life is not that good. Their neighbours, when they found out he was ex-terrorism, the neighbours will never talk with the family. Not get a job, their son, their daughter cannot go to a proper school.
And hearing their miserable life makes me realise that they already paid what they caused us. That’s why I can forgive him.
Lot of sad stories about them.
Like, there’s a good university in Indonesia - maybe we can say the Harvard of Indonesia - one of the ex-terrorist is graduated from that school, but he just selling ice.
You graduated from Harvard and you just selling ice? I feel sorry for them.
Joe Frost
I asked Nanda, as a Muslim, what she thought of terrorists using her religion as an excuse for their actions.
Nanda Daniel
They’re just stupid.
Most of the ex-terrorist story is that they disappointed with the government. They feel like they didn’t get a fair life from the government. They think that the government is not fair enough, is too greedy and everything. So they started to learn how to repay the government in Muslim way and they find out about the jihad, so they become the terrorist, and they did it.
But after they met us and heard about our story, they said, ‘what we were doing is very wrong. You guys are very nice person, I did horrible things to you, I’m very sorry for that.’ And he said, ‘I know this is what’s wrong and I know you cannot trust us but I already paid for what I have done.’
I just feel sorry for them, you know? Just because they don’t get a proper life. You just… Do that just to make your voice heard. That’s most of the reason why they become terrorist.
Joe Frost
Seeking insights from a different faith, I spoke to Dietmar Lederwasch.
As a young man in the 1970s, Dietmar went to the seminary and may well have become a Catholic priest, but my Dad turned up one Friday night with a bottle of Southern Comfort in hand. Details have never been fully divulged but Dietmar was not welcome back in class the following Monday.
With a beautiful wife, three loving kids, and now a host of gorgeous grandkids, Diet’s glad that, on that weekend, he chose Louisiana spirits over the holy spirit.
But he has a sense of perspective that any man of the cloth would do well to emulate.
Dietmar Lederwasch
I guess the first thought that came to mind after the first few days was that... how sad it was that people would take such terrible actions - by setting off bombs – deliberately done to kill people. Maybe there’s a depth that we don’t know how much they suffered for them do what they did.
To be pushed to the stage of killing someone must be unbelievably awful.
I'm a real John Lennon fanatic and I do believe all you need is love. Cos if you’ve got love, you’ll treat everyone with the respect they deserve.
Joe Frost
All that said, Dietmar survived the blasts on Jimbaran Beach in much the same manner as me – without a single shrapnel wound. And while his wife and daughter were injured, they both made swift recoveries.
So he has a caveat for his philosophical attempt to reckon with the bomber:
Dietmar Lederwasch
Life would be a lot different if anyone had been killed in my family.
Joe Frost
Life would be a lot different.
For survivors of terrorism, while the attack happened to all of us together, it also happened to each individual alone.
As such, there is no uniform response or outcome for the survivors of terrorism or their families. Some injuries sustained cause a complete shift in life and livelihood. And to have a loved one be murdered in cold blood is a completely justifiable reason to allow one’s heart to grow hard.
Terrorism can ruin lives.
Someone who had a front-row seat to that reality was my father, Dr Adam Frost.
You may recall from a previous episode that he treated the injured in Bali and Darwin following the bombings. In the days and years that have followed, he continued to treat a number of the survivors of that horrific night, as well as their families.
He has always, always maintained he was simply doing his job. But it was more than that.
And it was a source of immense pride for my family when other people recognised as much.
Dad was named the City of Newcastle’s 2006 Citizen of the Year. And on the 26th of January 2007, he was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia, "For service to the community through the provision of medical aid to victims of the 2005 Bali bombing.”
I asked Dr Adam Frost, OAM, what he made of receiving one of the nation’s highest honours.
Adam Frost
Yeah that was interetsting. So somewhere after Bali and before my OAM, I had back surgery and I was on drugs – pain relieving, OxyContin and all those sort of things [laughs]. So I'm not sure of the timeline but I remember limping when I went to Government House, so I presume I was on pills.
Joe Frost
Dad then proceeded to regale me with stories of the man who nominated him for the medal, and of that man having fought in the Vietnam War.
And not because Dad’s still on opioids – just because he’d rather talk about someone else’s service and sacrifice, because he doesn’t like the limelight.
So, naturally, I asked Australia's 28th Prime Minister about my Dad.
Tony Abbott
Well, he was wonderful. I have a lot of admiration for the medical profession, and your father was an exemplar of the medical profession at its best. Very professionally competent, full of human empathy, and determined to move heaven and earth where necessary to get the best outcome.
Joe Frost
It's been like pulling teeth trying to get him to say nice things about himself.
Tony Abbott
[Laughs] But again, that's, that's, that's the Aussie male at his best. Don't pull up. Doesn't believe in blowing his own trumpet.
Joe Frost
The Aussie male at his best. I think so too.
Act 3: Returning to Bali
Joe Frost
While investigating the terrorists was the reason I started this project, the inspiring stories of love, hope and compassion that so many survivors and families shared made it easy to continue.
Stories shared by people like Nanda and Dietmar. Like Jenny and Eric Pilar, Aleta and Julia Lederwasch, Peny Anicich, my Dad – and, of course, my Mum.
People like Terry Fitzgerald. Like Isaac and Ben Zwolinski.
And then there are the two people whose stories of Bali sort of started it all.
Kim and Vicki Griffiths first visited the Island of the Gods all the way back in the 1970s, when they were just a couple of kids in their 20s.
The place was overrun with pigs and dogs and chooks. The local people were warm hosts.
There were unique opportunities to indulge.
Vicki Griffiths
there were some guys from Newcastle there who shall not be named. And there was a thing called a ‘747 cocktail’, which was made of magic mushies. And they would consume the magic mushies cocktail and then go on their motorbikes over to the airport and lay down on the tarmac while the planes took off just over their heads. But we didn’t do that, we were goodies.
Joe Frost
Kim and Vicki lived on a diet of jaffals, juices, banana pancakes – and perfect swell.
In the ensuing three decades, a lot of things had changed in Bali. But the important ones hadn’t.
Vicki Griffiths
Kim loved talking to the Balinese. He just found them. It's just a slower pace, and people have got time to chat, and it was a wonderful place to go and just take a deep breath, you know? And that's what we did when we went to Bali. We've never gone there to shop, you know, people go there now to shop and, you know, buy rubbish and things I'll never use or never wear and whatever. We just went there. We loved the people, and Kim loved the surf.
Joe Frost
The people. And the surf. Because, at heart, Kim was a surfer.
But Kim was also a builder.
And between his days in the surf and on the site, Kim had developed a turn of phrase that was all his own.
So where my parents taught me to get back on the bike when you fall off, Kim's analogy had far greater stakes.
As he told me, “When you fall off a roof you get straight back up there otherwise you won’t go back up.”
Get back on the roof. It must have been rattling around in his head, because Kim Griffiths swiftly put voice to that thought.
Vicki Griffiths
Oh, within days, within days of him getting back, he said, ‘Oh, look, we've gotta be strong, and we can't let this get to us.’ And, and I was like, really on the other foot, I was like, ‘No, don't be ridiculous. You don't need to go back, you know, you’re needed here’, like, because I've just got out of hospital and he was talking about going back.
But he felt a big need in his heart to get back over there and make contact with some of the people there, because he knew how tough it was going over there.
Joe Frost
So in November 2005, barely a month after the bombing, Kim Griffiths packed a bag and his passport, and boarded a flight for Denpasar Airport.
His next door neighbour, a mate named Mark Arnold, was by his side.
Mark Arnold
Kim was talking to me one day and he said he'd like to go back, to sort of, not create a barrier or a mountain in front of him, he thought he wanted to go back, and basically thank the people who helped him and the others that had been injured.
And I didn't like the thought of him having to go back on his own because, from a psychological perspective it was quite – it would throw anybody, so I said I'd go with him. And we went back and stayed at the same hotel that they were at the time, the Bali Garden Hotel in Kuta, and travelled around to meet those people.
Joe Frost
The people Kim and Mark travelled around to thank included doctors and nurses, ex-pats who had come to the hospital or hotel to help in the wake of the blasts, the staff at the hotel, even the people selling wares on the beach.
Mark remembers visiting staff in a hospital in Sanur, on Bali's East Coast.
Mark Arnold
He wanted to go and thank them and that, and they came out and I think they were really appreciative, because the Balinese people – you know they're a lovely group of people – and they were dismayed by the fact that their island had been bombed and the impact that it had on tourism which is a significant economic factor in Bali. So they were very appreciative of Kim coming over so soon after the bomb had blown up to thank them for their support during a very difficult time.
Joe Frost
Kim didn’t bring a surfboard for that trip – maybe he didn’t think he would get a chance to use it.
More likely, however, was that Kim knew that if he wanted to go for a wave, he had a good mate who would lend him a board.
Udin was a surfer too.
Vicki Griffiths
When we met Udin, he was probably around 20, or maybe 18, and Kim would go out surfing with him, and we'd chat to him on the beach and he would do surfing lessons. And we stayed in contact with him.
Joe Frost
So how old would he be now?
Vicki Griffiths
Oh, God, I think he's 50 something. I think.
Joe Frost
So this is a decades-long friendship.
Yes, yes, yes, yes. And everyone's been to his house, and it was good for the boys to go there, because, in fact, his house is just like one room, and in the corner of that one room is his prayer mat, because he's Muslim. His wife is from Java, and she's gone back to Java to the family farm and but his two boys are now sort of a similar age to when we met Udin.
So, yeah, he's been a good friend. You know, they're pretty amazing people, like we, we speak English, I think, Udin speaks six languages, and he never went to school.
Yeah, he's a lovely bloke, and he really appreciates the simple life. He loves the water.
Joe Frost
Vicki didn’t go with Kim that first time, in November 2005.
But she went the following time. And each time after that. She reckons they had done around 15 trips back to Bali since 1st October 2005.
The most recent trip however, in July 2025, was different.
Vicki Griffiths
Yes, so, last year, Kim and I decided that we would go six weeks this winter, and so we booked all of that. And then Kim passed away in February.
I was sort of, you know, wondering whether I should go. And then Jordan, my youngest son, said, ‘I'll come with you, Mum, for a week or 10 days.’ And then Kyle said he'd come and, yeah, and then I had other friends over there for three weeks, and yeah, so I did have six weeks there, and I enjoyed it. It was bittersweet, but I know he would have wanted me to be there and, and, you know, it's, it's part of our life.
One afternoon, Vicki and two of her sons boarded a boat and headed out onto Kuta reef, the three of them joined by two close friends.
Vicki Griffiths
We're out in the typical Balinese boat with the wings, the butterfly boats, I think they call them, with the wings out. There was Udin, and then Kim's friend, Michael Lynch, who lives over there with his Indonesian wife, Linda. So that's was only a handful of us there, but it was beautiful, yeah.
As I said, we scattered some of Kim's ashes, which was... sad but beautiful at the same time.
Yeah, and I know he would have liked being over there, you know. He's surfing Kuta Reef forever now, so that's how I feel anyway.
Joe Frost
With Kim finally at one with the waves he’d spent his adult life chasing, Vicki wanted to raise a glass to her husband.
Vicki Griffiths
I bought a bottle of Moet to have a toast to Kim after we'd scattered his ashes and I said, ‘Udin’, I said, ‘How strict are you Muslim? Would you like a glass of this?’
He said, ‘I only strict when necessary.’
Joe Frost
Kim was a surfer. And the ocean doesn’t care if you’re Australian or Indonesian, Christian or Muslim.
That means nothing when a metric tonne of saltwater is bearing down on you from six feet and you can either ride the wave or eat it.
So you keep an eye on your mates when you’re out there. And there are plenty of mates to be made, whether they’ve got a familiar accent or they speak six languages.
JD Sallinger wrote, “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”
In November 2005, a month after 20 people were murdered and more than a hundred others injured in the most terrifying event of his life, without any fuss of fanfare, Kim got back on the roof.
And, having done so, Kim went back to Bali. Time and again. With his wife and his sons and his mates.
To spend time with the friends they had made in all their years visiting. To eat banana pancakes. And to go surfing.
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