CFMEU secretary John Setka key figure in protest and in rescue attempts during the wall collapse CFMEU secretary John Setka doesn't need to pause at the wilted flowers of the makeshift memorial in Swanston St to imagine the lives lost there. In the minutes after the wall collapsed on March 28, burying three people in bricks, he helped -- in vain -- to try to rescue Alex and Bridget Jones and Marie-Faith Fiawoo. It was "terrible," he said yesterday, minutes before he and about 7000 fellow unionists stopped at the site, en route to the WorkSafe offices and a series of speeches about "disgraceful" industry safety standards. "When you see three people lying there (injured) in the most prominent street in Melbourne, especially when it's something that shouldn't have happened, it sends shockwaves through you," he said. I can't describe it. Setka didn't want to talk details, alluding to counsellors and trauma. He didn't want to harp, out of consideration for the families. He didn't want to compound their pain. This question of respect for the bereaved -- or a perceived lack of it -- has bounced around since last week. By drawing on the deaths, the union has been accused by commentators, from Premier Denis Napthine down, of politicising the tragedy. If this concerned Setka yesterday, he didn't show it. Indeed, his repeated claims of a "cover-up" received rousing cheers from unionists. On the way to the Exhibition St speeches, Setka slapped backs and exchanged kisses. His rolling gait, redolent of a boxer in victory, implied a man at ease. His towering height -- the crown of his head appeared to bob amid the union flags -- suggested a man in control. Setka has a rap sheet in physicality. Yet yesterday's battles were on a verbal footing. Most of the two-hour rally felt like a sunny stroll through a town in freeze frame. Twins in a stroller stopped grousing to gaze at the throng. The Big Issue seller in Lonsdale St stopped touting. Workers' windcheaters boasted how the CFMEU "built this city." Yesterday, the same union stopped parts of it. There were police lines and horses. They played like unnecessary extras at a Sunday picnic. Napthine had described the march, which stopped at the Swanston St wall for a minute's silence, as "beneath contempt." Setka seemed ready for the obvious question. I think (Napthine) ought to be ashamed of himself. Our staff and people were there when the wall came down, what we seen that day we'll never forget . . . I think he's just a disgraceful individual. He, and the CFMEU, claimed to know where the blame lay. The union claimed to know that findings of three separate inquiries wouldn't fall where it believed they ought to. On stage, Setka spoke of official incompetence. "We are not trying to politicise this," he said. Several minutes later, he told the crowd: "In the end, Denis Napthine should remember that they (the Government) hold the state by one seat. And in the end, construction workers and their families, they get to vote. The union's message was clear: its opponents were "disgraceful." This, of course, was in response to critics who said yesterday's march was "disgraceful."