I first attended the Brisbane Dental Hospital and College on Turbot Street in the city. in the early 1970s after the captain of my university squash team carelessly knocked out my front teeth with his racket. He did not even offer me a lift home. He was a history honours student who later joined Australia’s diplomatic corps and served overseas—a genuine member of the Brisbane elite. What I did receive, however, was free treatment at the Brisbane Dental Hospital.
Some years later, after I had broken my plastic dental plate several times, Mr Watt, a senior dentist at the hospital, took pity on me and made me a titanium dental plate. It served me faithfully for many years. What I remember most was not simply the quality of the treatment, but that it came from a public institution where care was provided on the basis of need rather than wealth. The Brisbane Dental Hospital was one of those public services that quietly improved the lives of generations of Queenslanders.
My local Greens member, Max Chandler-Mather, now defeated by Labor, was a strong advocate for the inclusion of dental care in Medicare. It remains an important policy proposal, and one that no Australian government has yet implemented. My own experience helps explain why.
Brisbane Dental Hospital and College
The free dental care I received at the Brisbane Dental Hospital—albeit subject to a means test—was a significant benefit to me and to many others who could not easily afford private treatment. Together with Queensland’s public hospital system, it reflected the principle that access to essential healthcare should depend primarily on need rather than the capacity to pay. My experiences at the Brisbane Dental Hospital are a reminder that public institutions can make a lasting difference in people’s lives, often in ways that are only appreciated many years later.
They’re not only have taking away free dental service, but they want to sell the beautiful historic building and the land on which it stands. Shame on them.
ABC Drama In more recent times the Dental Hospital became the Queensland Institute of Forensic Medicine in the ABC’s episodic thriller, seen across the globe and revolving around Dr. Daniel Harrow, a forensic pathologist. His laboratory was inside the heritage-listed Brisbane Dental Hospital.
55 years since Apartheid Springbok your Worse still, the redevelopment threatens the historic open space surrounding the former Brisbane Dental Hospital, including Wickham Park and King Edward Park near the old Windmill. These parks are not simply vacant land awaiting commercial development; they are places of historical memory.
In June 1971, during the struggle against apartheid and the South African Springbok rugby tour, these areas were the scene of major demonstrations and confrontations. Anti-apartheid protesters gathered in and around the parks and the nearby Tower Mill precinct, where police violently dispersed and beat demonstrators some ending up in hospital.
Police broke into the nearby Trades Hall building, adjacent to Jacob’s Ladder and below the old Windmill, and arrested one and sexually assaulted another.
Protest outside the exhibition grounds along Bowen Bridge RoadPolice assemble to attack anti-apartheid demonstrationMarch against apartheid
The anti-apartheid movement in Queensland was not confined to students and civil libertarians. Trade unionists played a decisive role. Plumbers and building workers denied the state access to the Ballymore Rugby Union ground, while other unions took action in support of the campaign against the Springbok tour.
When Premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen declared a state of emergency and requisitioned the Exhibition Grounds from the Royal National Agricultural and Industrial Association of Queensland, the meatworkers responded by preventing police access to horses that could have been used against demonstrators.
Undeterred by the state’s extraordinary measures, more than 2,000 demonstrators gathered in Victoria Park, near Barambin and close to the old bora ring, to protest against a sporting tour organised on the basis of racial exclusion. They came not merely to oppose a football match, but to challenge the apartheid system that the tour represented. Their actions became part of a broader international movement that sought to isolate apartheid South Africa and affirm the principle that sport could not be separated from justice.
These places tell an important story about Brisbane’s democratic and political history. To lose them, or to diminish their public character through privatisation and redevelopment, would mean losing not only historic buildings and parkland but also part of the city’s collective memory of the struggle for justice and equality.
One thought on “How dare they sell the dental hospital”
Dear Ian Curr,
What you have reported here is indeed very sad and rather deplorable, at least insofar as access to dental care is still so dependent on a person’s wealth, and also the destruction of what could be considered as heritage site or building.
I would like to inform you that there is a typo in the last word of the heading 55 years since Apartheid Springbok your.
Dear Ian Curr,
What you have reported here is indeed very sad and rather deplorable, at least insofar as access to dental care is still so dependent on a person’s wealth, and also the destruction of what could be considered as heritage site or building.
I would like to inform you that there is a typo in the last word of the heading 55 years since Apartheid Springbok your.
Happy winter to you!
Yours sincerely,
SoundEagle🦅