Rasta loved visiting his dad, Saumotu at his residential complex, little did he know he would be murdered over a garden hose
The complex had lots of residents who generally got on well with eachother
Rasta shared with Saumotu that he and his partner Jeanette were going to have a baby
Saumotu was estatic as he was a family man, with eight children
Saumotu sadly was caught up trying to diffuse an argument over water usage and was murdered by his neighbour
Rasta Gasio, 33, from Melbourne, Victoria shares his story…
My father and I sat in the large courtyard of his apartment block having a yarn.
Just then, one of the other residents, a hunchbacked old man, hobbled past to hose down the plants in the garden.
“His name’s Rodney,” my dad, Saumotu, told me. “He’s always gardening.
“Hey there,” I said to the stern-faced old bloke.
Without looking, he threw me a small wave and continued watering the communal garden.
Rasta and his dad, Saumotu
Dad had moved to the complex in Mordialloc, Vic, in 2019 after a heart attack forced him to retire from his long career as a taekwondo and boxing instructor.
Seeing my father come so close to death had been scary, but as the strong Samoan he is, he could survive just about anything, even triple bypass surgery.
Dad was very social, and he found the other retirees in the building to be warm and welcoming, aside from Rodney, who kept to himself.
He connected especially well with a German migrant named Tibor.
They could sit for hours swapping stories.
In October 2021, I brought along my new partner, Jeanette, to have lunch with Dad in the courtyard.
“We’ve got some exciting news,” I said. “We’re having a baby!”
Dad threw his arms around me.
As a father of eight, family was so precious to him.
Read more: Loving dad’s ex stabbed him as he slept
“I was getting concerned your friend downstairs didn’t work!” he joked.
On the afternoon of January 14, 2022, I was taking a stroll through our neighbourhood with Jeanette when I received a call from a police detective.
My mind went instantly to my larrikin brothers.
“I don’t know anything about it,” I said, not wanting to get involved, and hung up the phone.
We continued to discuss our fast-approaching life with a baby when my phone rang again.
L-R, Rasta, Jasmine , Marley, Jeanette
This time it was my mum, Alofa, 61, beside herself in tears.
“Your father’s passed away,” she cried.
Although Mum and Dad had been separated since 1997, they’d remained good friends.
“Was it another heart attack?” I asked desperately.
“No,” Mum replied. “You need to call the detective back.”
Shocked and confused, I called the detective while Jeanette put her arm around me in support.
All he could say was that Dad had been found the night before at his apartment complex and his death was being treated as suspicious.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“He’ll never get to meet our kid,” I sobbed.
I now had the painful job of calling my four brothers and three sisters to report the awful news.
With each call, I had to relive the pain as they processed the loss of the man we all loved so dearly.
Desperate for answers, I drove to Dad’s apartment complex and found it surrounded by police cars.
An officer prevented me from approaching the scene.
“Mate, haven’t you seen the news?” he asked.
I pulled out my phone and opened a local news site.
A shooting had taken place in the area following a dispute between neighbours.
Two men were dead, and the gunman was arrested after a standoff with police.
Watching footage of the suspect being taken into custody, I recognised the feeble frame of the old gardener, Rodney!
What could possibly have happened? I wondered.
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A few days later, I returned to the crime scene for answers.
Janice, one of Dad’s good friends, invited me into her unit.
“Rodney had already thrown a chair at Bob, that day,” she said, referring to another elderly resident, “and it was all because of the garden hose.”
“What?” I asked in confusion.
She explained that Rodney had wanted to keep the hose running to water the communal garden.
“Whenever someone turned it off to save water or spare our shared water bill, Rod would lose the plot,” she added.
Dad had tried explaining that water is precious, at which point Rodney had said he’d kill them all.
No-one took Rodney’s threat seriously until he returned to the courtyard with a single barrel shotgun and shot Dad in the shoulder point blank.
“Your father stumbled into my unit,” Janice explained through tears. “Tibor and I ran to his aid, but we couldn’t save him. Then Rodney stormed in and shot Tibor dead.”
It was so unbelievable that this quiet old man could kill in cold blood that at this point, I almost felt no anger at all.
But he was responsible for the deaths of two innocent people, and I wanted to see justice served.
Two weeks later, hundreds turned out for Dad’s funeral.
Dad was a huge lover of Bob Marley, and we played his Redemption Song as I carried out the casket.
I included it in a playlist of over 400 songs which I made for Jeanette when she went into labour.
At the exact moment our son was delivered, it started playing! It was as if Dad was in the room with us and we named our son Marley in his honour.
In February 2023, Rodney John Lee, 73, pleaded guilty to the double murder of my dad, Saumotu Gasio, 62, and Tibor Laszlo, 57.
Witnesses attested that he’d told my dad to go “back to where you came from” before grabbing his grandfather’s shotgun which was hidden under his bed.
The court heard residents had run for their lives.
The judge sentenced Lee to 30 years in jail.
Although he’s likely to die in prison, 30 years isn’t long enough for the two lives that he’s taken.
Rodney Lee, 74, returned before the Supreme Court of Victoria for sentencing after pleading guilty to murdering Saumotu Gasio, 62, and Tibor Laszlo, 72
Despite his weak frame, Lee was by all accounts a bully, and Dad was a leader who stood up to bullies.
He stood up to Lee that night, on behalf of all the other residents, and sadly paid for it with his life.
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