Question 31

Tony Anthony killed a lady in a tragic road accident, and lied to the Police. He did not show any remorse in killing the motorcyclist. If he is truly repentant, why has he not spoken about this?

Yes, Tony did kill a lady in a tragic road accident which took place “One Monday evening in early March 2000” (see page 202). Yes, Tony lied to the mechanic who repaired his car and to the policeman.  (see page 206) We have spoken at length to Tony about this.  Equally, we have had an independent and long conversation with Sara regarding this chapter of their lives.  These conversations, Tony’s public account of the accident and the quotations taken from Taming the Tiger (below) completely convince me that Tony (and Sara) felt and feel deep remorse regarding the accident and all that followed. To date, Tony refuses to regain his driving license and when asked about this he simply said, “The thought of driving makes me feel quite sick” (Monday 20 January 2014)  Given Tony’s previous passion for motorbikes, ‘nice cars’ and his wide travels, this indicates a continued and unending remorse. Sections from Taming the Tiger: “I had seen him before.  He had been at every hearing.  He was a young guy, around 18 years old, with short dark hair and sunken eyes.  He glared at me.  I looked away and swallowed hard.  Was it her son?  Was this the boy I had deprived of a mother?  He disappeared, back behind the glass.  Then there was a girl’s face.  I couldn’t bare to look.  Sickness ran over me in waves.  If my barrister was correct, I would walk out of here a free man, but I would never have any peace.  The boy’s face would stay with me forever.” (see page 213) “My barrister’s defence completely galled me.  He was only doing his job, but I hated the way he made me sound like an innocent victim, being wrongly persecuted.  I thought about the family behind the glass.  No one would ever understand the true weight of my guilt and internal torment.  Next, the barrister for the Crown Prosecution began his case.  This time he referred to my Interpol record and the fact that I had been in prison before.  Immediately, my barrister objected…The case went on.  After a while I was hardly listening.  It all seemed irrelevant.  I was guilty before God and I wanted to die.”  (see page 213) “My hands were cuffed and I sat hugging my knees in a small caged cubicle. Shame and remorse rained down on me in torrents. What had I become?  What would Michael Wright think if he could see me now?  The words of a song rang in my head.  It was the hymn, And Can It Be?  I dwelt on one of the verses: ‘Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature’s night . . .’  I thought of the times I had sung the hymn with a grateful heart.  It was so much my story: ‘And can it be that I should gain, An interest in the Saviour’s blood?  Died he for me, who caused His pain – For me, who Him to death pursued?  Amazing love! How can it be, that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?’ The truth of the hymn cut me to the core.  Tears began streaming down my cheeks.  I thought back over my life.  I was a wicked man who God had saved.  How little I deserved him.  Now it was as though I had ripped the heart out of my story, the one I had told so many times to convince others of the truth about Jesus Christ.  How could I ever expect God to use me again? I vowed, there and then, to become a quiet Christian. I could never give up on God.  He was too real to me.  But I was not worthy to have Jesus’ name on my lips.”  (see page 214)