Carina Maree McPherson, 41, from Tinana, Qld, lost her husband Nathan McPherson after a callous stranger launched a one-punch attack on a night out.
She is sharing her story to spread awareness of how just one punch can be deadly and to help stop another family going through the heartbreak hers is experiencing.
A GoFundMe has been set up by friends to support Carina and her family.
Here, Carina shares her story in her own words
On Friday August 18 2023, my husband Nathan, who I called Nate, and our kids Ella, then six, and Riley 13, and my father-in-law James, 75, tucked into dinner.
I had no way of knowing then it would be the last meal we shared together, all because of a stranger who chose to throw a punch and walk away.
After a long week working as a timber mill benchman, Nate, 43, was headed to the pub in nearby Maryborough, Qld.
Nate was strong and caring – a loving father and a doting husband – but that night we bickered, like all couples do, before he left.
I’d hoped he would stay in with us for the night and drink the keg of beer he’d just bought to save some money.
But he’d been so busy renovating our shed – which he was turning into a man cave – that he hadn’t had a night out in over two months.
‘Don’t you think you should stay home?’ I asked him. But he wanted to head out so he left at 7.30pm without us saying goodbye.
The standoff didn’t last long though, after I called Nate to check in and clear the air.
‘Everything is okay,’ he chuckled. ‘I love you.’
A few hours later, at 10.30pm, Nate called me on his way to another pub, and I could tell he’d had a beer or two.
‘I’m going to go fishing on the bridge,’ he joked, as he walked along.
‘I know you’re joking but please be safe,’ I stressed, sensing that he might be home late.
Three hours later, I woke up to James knocking at my door.
A terrible fear engulfed me when I heard it.
‘Nathan’s been king hit,’ he told me.
My gut dropped. I knew how serious a king hit – or one punch attack – could be.
He’d been found in the middle of the road and taken to Hervey Bay hospital.
I phoned my friend to mind the kids, while James and I rushed to the hospital.
The doctors told us he’d been put into an induced coma.
He was covered in tubes and wires.
‘I love you Nathan. You can pull through this,’ I whispered, as I held his big, strong hand in mine.
At that stage I felt like there was some hope something could be done, but it was clear Nate had been terribly injured.
Six hours later Nathan was airlifted to the Royal Brisbane Hospital for surgery.
I asked if I could fly with him, but was told no.
I watched the helicopter lift off, and then got in the car with my mum, Ann-Maree, then 63, to drive the almost 300 kilometres south.
We’d only got as far as Tiaro when I got a call from a neurosurgeon and pulled over on the highway.
‘This is not good,’ I was told. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.’
‘What do I do?’ I asked.
The specialist advised us to still make the journey and we continued our drive, our hearts shattered.
Hope was lost at the side of that road, and I felt myself turning numb.
When we arrived, we were taken straight to Nate’s room.
I could see he was deteriorating.
My hands shook and my heart pounded.
That afternoon we were taken to a side room where we were shown scans of a normal brain side by side with Nate’s.
The terrible damage done by his attacker was clear.
‘I’m afraid Nathan’s injuries are so severe that if we proceed with surgery there’s a 98 per cent chance he won’t survive,’ the specialist said. ‘And he would have zero quality of life even if he did survive.’
He would have likely been left in the same condition he was in now. Unable to move, eat, or respond.
Nate was a hard-working family man who also loved his independence – I’d known that since we met.
He wouldn’t want to be here if he couldn’t care for his family like he had all these years.
He was an active person, this was not a life he would have wanted. It wasn’t a life.
So I made the gut-wrenching decision to turn off his life support. In reality, there was no other choice to be made.
‘I love you. Your kids love you,’ I whispered in his ear. ‘You were a light in our lives, and we’ll reunite one day.’
Just after 9.30pm on Sunday August 20, it was time. The machines keeping my beloved husband alive were switched off, and Nate slipped away.
I felt my heart break as his chest stopped moving.
The next day Mum and I had to race home. I had to leave my husband behind, knowing I’d never see him again.
But the media had heard of what had happened, and I had to get home to our children before they heard the news from someone else.
Back home, I had to explain to Ella and Riley that their dad was never coming back.
‘Dad was punched by a man after he left the pub on Friday night and he died in hospital,’ I told them.
I never sugar-coated what had happened. Someone punched their dad, and he’d still be here today if they hadn’t.
‘I want to go to heaven and be with him,’ Ella wept, burying her little head in my lap.
I wasn’t able to bring Nate’s body home for two weeks, because of the police investigation.
We held his funeral on September 7, celebrating the vibrant man he was and playing his favourite songs by Luke Combs.
Eighteen months after Nate’s death, I was able to watch the CCTV footage of what happened that night. It was later shown in court.
Nate was sitting on a bench near an intersection one block away from the Old Sydney Hotel around 2.30am, when a stranger walked past with two friends.
The man and Nate didn’t know each other, but they exchanged words.
Nate could then be seen approaching the stranger, before they confronted each other in the middle of the intersection.
The footage then showed the stranger punching Nate in the right side of his temple, causing him to fall back onto the road, motionless.
The man then picked up a pair of sunglasses he’d dropped on the ground and walked away with his mate, leaving my husband for dead.
It was a callous move I’ll never understand.
The attacker was alleged to be Joshua Berrigan, then 23, and he was charged with unlawful striking causing death.
On August 18 2025 we finally saw Nate’s alleged killer, who appeared via videolink, at Brisbane Supreme Court to plead guilty to the charge.
Berrigan appeared emotionless.
The court was told how witnesses heard him swear at Nathan before he unleashed the deadly punch.
It turned out Berrigan was on bail for a charge of grievous bodily harm at the time of the attack, for which he was later convicted and sentenced to 2.5 years in jail.
What kind of human was he? I thought.
On October 27 2025 Justice Peter Davis sentenced Joshua Trevor Berrigan, then 25, to 10 years in prison.
He was to serve 80 per cent of his sentence before being eligible for parole, and 555 days he had spent in custody were declared as time served.
He would be eligible for parole on April 20, 2032.
I felt numb.
It didn’t feel long enough when our children had the live the rest of their lives without their dad.
My brave boy Riley wrote a statement, which was read to the court by barrister Chris Cook, saying his dad’s death had ‘left a hole in my heart that will never be filled’.
Our legal fight is not over as Berrigan appealed his sentence the day after the hearing. The process could roll on for years.
Me and the kids, Riley, now 16, and Ella, eight, have a life full of grief ahead of us, and not a day goes by where we don’t feel Nathan’s absence.
We keep his spirit alive by listening to Luke Combs and visiting his grave as often as we can.
Just as he was strong and determined in life, we must be the same in his memory.
A family friend has set up a Go Fund Me to support Carina and her family. To donate, click on the link here.
What is Queensland’s One Punch Law?
In 2014, a new offence—“unlawful striking causing death”—was introduced into the Criminal Code Act 1899.
Often referred to as the “one punch law”, it came about after a number of fatal incidents across Australia in which a single blow, frequently delivered during alcohol-related altercations between young men, led to death.
The offence does not require proof of intent to kill, nor does it consider whether the outcome was reasonably foreseeable.
Where a custodial sentence is imposed, the offender must serve either 80 per cent of the term or up to 15 years — whichever is less — before being eligible for release.
This rule does not apply in certain circumstances, including where:
- a life sentence is imposed
- the offender is given an indefinite sentence
- an intensive correction order is made
- the sentence, in whole or in part, is suspended
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