Gerald Preston




Hi, I’m Gerald Preston and I’m currently resident at Yatala Labour Prison in South Australia, where I’m serving a “life with 32 years non-parole” sentence for murder.

I was born in October 1959, in Edinburgh, Scotland. I arrived Australia in January 1973, where I’ve lived and worked in every state. I started my sentence in 1996 and my parole date is in 2028 when, as a non-Australian citizen, I’ll be deported.

An oldie (but apparently not a goodie…?), in the past my recreational interests have included; antiques, art, computer-programming, fishing, kayaking, old cars, sky-diving and wooden boats… With no opportunity to pursue any of those, nowadays; fitness, health, letters, puzzles, radio and TV suffice.

At this stage of my sentence I’m still classified as “high-security”. The deportation issue ensures I have no prospects of ever progressing to “low-security” and accessing any of the rehabilitation, vocational training or resocialization programs only available from those environments.

I bunk down in an 1850’s gaol cell, retro-fitted with; lighting, electricity, intercom and exposed plumbing… The polished stainless-steel basin and toilet dominate the space and make a poignant statement- shithouse with a bed! Shabby machine-punk minimalist décor with portals (radio and TV) to the 21st century- I call it my Turdis.

Locked down 19 hours, my “ Groundhog Days” are spent engaging in disciplined routine, obsessively battling the ravages of time, and the dearth of challenging mental stimulation- hygiene, exercise, correspondence and education are my treadmills.

In 2012, I applied for an “International Prisoner Transfer” to complete my sentence in a UK prison. The UK Prison Service, acknowledging my situation, agreed to accept me and make rehabilitation and resocialization resources available, but the Australian Government refused their proposal. I intend to re-apply at a later date.

I will be 69 years old by the time I’ve completed my sentence. I hope to return to the UK and spend time with my remaining family before we all expire.

I have an adult son, whom I’ve had no contact with throughout my sentence. I hope one day he finds his way to getting in touch with me.

Hope springs eternal….



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