Riding to remember

2 DECEMBER 2025

Can you quantify the laughter of two friends, the energy a person brings to their work each day, or how a family feels a loved one’s embrace?
Could words ever explain what those bonds meant, or the impact their absence will have?

A Tribute on Two Wheels

It's unlikely, which is why sometimes the most powerful tribute is found on two wheels, an open road and the solidarity of hundreds of Corrective Services NSW colleagues, as they embark on the annual Remembrance Ride.
This year, Correctional Officer Darren Crimston led the pack of 300-plus riders, on a journey from the Corrective Services Academy in Eastwood to Goulburn Correctional Centre, in honour of his late wife, Senior Correctional Officer, Michelle Crimston.
“Well, she’ll be riding with me because there was no way she was ever going to be a passenger,” smiles Darren.

Honouring Fallen Colleagues

Now in its seventh year, the ride is devoted to CSNSW staff who have lost their lives, on the job, in retirement, or, as in Michelle’s case, to devastating illness.

Michelle and Darren’s Story

Michelle and Darren met at Bathurst Correctional Centre in 2007.
“I don’t think it was love at first sight. Actually, she said I was quite rude when I met her but I don’t remember that,” says Darren.
But over a few years, their connection grew, and in 2012, they were married, joining Michelle’s four kids with Darren’s one from previous partnerships, to make a blended family of five.

Juggling young kids, and the inhospitable hours of working shifts as correctional officers, Darren and Michelle survived their first years by leaving Post-It notes on the kitchen counter top, or waving in the car as they passed each other on opposing shifts.
For many couples, it would be their undoing, but Darren and Michelle relished the small windows they got.
Together, they worked hard, and saw their five kids through school, until after more than a decade, it seemed they might be able to claw some time back for themselves.

The Diagnosis

Then, in August 2022, Michelle went for a routine check-up.
“They found a big tumour … and within four weeks, and more testing, we got the news it was Stage Four,” says Darren.
That was the beginning of a courageous two-year fight, as Michelle hauled herself through rounds of chemo, surgeries and debilitating symptoms.

Fighting Spirit

As cancer slowly spread through Michelle’s body, she kept her spirits high by indulging in her passions, timing her chemo and steroid doses so she could still ride her motorbike.
Tearing down tarmac and over countryside on two wheels had been part of Michelle’s life before she met Darren, and when their love blossomed, she bought Darren his rider’s course, determined for him to experience the same freedom and exhilaration by her side.

The team rallied

SAS Raymond Jordan-Miller, who worked alongside Michelle at Hunter Correctional Centre, recalls how Michelle inspired those around her, and continued to bring her infectious positivity to work, despite her deteriorating health.
“Even though she was going through what she was going through, she’d be here, she’d get her work done, and she still had time for everyone,” he says.
While a Stage Four diagnosis would see many give up work, Darren recalls her shifts at Hunter helped Michelle keep going:
“As Michelle used to say, ‘to live knowing you’re going to die, you’ve got to have purpose’.”

As Michelle became sicker, her colleagues at Hunter rallied closer, organising fundraisers, and making whatever accommodations they could to prop her and her family up.
It was the sign of a close-knit team, gathering closer, to protect one of their dearest.
“A lot of the younger female correctional officers called her ‘Work Mum’,” recalls Raymond.
“She just always made everyone feel special, whether you were new in the job or she’d known you for 10 years, she always gave you the time of day.”

Saying Goodbye

Eventually, the brutal side effects of the chemo outweighed its benefit, and after more than two years of fighting, Michelle passed away, aged 48, on 25 October, 2024.
She is survived by five children and three grandchildren, as well as her parents, siblings and both her and Darren’s extended family.
A funeral service was held for Michelle at St Joseph’s Catholic Church in Maitland, where she was sent off by a CSNSW Honour Guard.
Prison Chaplain Gerard McCarthy, who knew Michelle well as a colleague, led the service.
“The loss of Michelle at work was profound. It was like we lost a daughter,” he says.

Of course, those who feel the loss the deepest, are at home.
“She was the glue that stuck us together,” says Darren. “There’s a lot to cancer people don’t realise, unless you go through it.”