June 2017, Gawler, South Australia, Australia
The open road. What a wonderful concept. To look out over the bonnet with nothing but possibilities ahead... Where the road is more about the journey than the destination.
Peter loved the open road. If you wanted to find mum and Peter on any Sunday, they were most probably driving. Out discovering the nooks and crannies of our great land… and looking at the roadworks! While you and I try to avoid roadworks, and are mostly irritated by the seemingly endless array of Orange Bollards….25km/h zones and stop-sign-wielding traffic wardens... That was not Peter...he loved it. 25km/h was just the right speed where he could get a good look at what they were doing... the new roadbuilding techniques. Stopping for the traffic warden gave him a great opportunity to check out the latest machinery being used on the job site.
In a way, I believe that he felt a kind of kinship with the road-makers. Because in a much smaller way, he helped to build and maintain many roads around Gawler. You see, Peter worked as a backhoe operator and ganger in the Gawler council for over 20 years where he was profoundly respected by his work mates and also by the council management. I found this out when Peter invited me to his retirement BBQ. You could have been mistaken for thinking that the mayor was leaving that day...not a worker on the gang. The CEO and Deputy mayor turned up... and gave long speeches and handed him silverware to thank him for his service. His boss Les proceeded to demonstrate the "burnt offering" ritual that Peter had conducted during his smoko and described Peter as the Liberace of the Backhoe, while many of his fellow workers gave a rousing reception to this shy unassuming, sometimes larrikin, who "just got on with the job without any fuss".
Peters road in life started at Wallaroo Hospital on the 28th of May 1947 and he returned to live in the family home at Kadina. He was the eldest of twin boys born that day…being 10 minutes older than Andy …his brother who lives in New Zealand presently. Ultimately, he was the 4th of six siblings His parents were very poor, but despite his tough upbringing he was a happy child who loved nothing more than to create things with his hammer and wood. In summer, he would regularly ride the 8km to Wallaroo to have a swim in the sea pool.
Once he left school and started along the road of his working life, Peter followed his brothers on some parts of their journey. One story that Peter told me of this time was when one of his brothers got him a job with the Mt Isa mines in outback Queensland. His brother hatched a scheme to have a weekend off. He told the mine management that their mum had died. The plan developed a life of its own when the mine management were so concerned that they organised a light plane to fly the two boys back to Brisbane... So, the boys accepted the flight and had a great weekend in Brisbane courtesy of a mother who was alive and well in South Australia.
Throughout his life, Peter has lived in a lot of different places (even in New Zealand ) but eventually he put his roots down in Gawler, working for the council and living in a flat behind where the Mitre 10 is now. He was at a low ebb after some personal turmoil when he met Robyn my mum. They were married in 1989 in the local Anglican church near the Willaston Hotel. This started a wonderful period for them both. Neither has much money but they were happy. They initially rented a house from the council that did not have “beach-front views”… It had dump-front views!! For a year, Dawn and I lived with mum and Peter in that house and it is a time that we all look back on with fondness. Because the rent in that house was so cheap and Peter could walk to work at the council yard next door, that gave mum and Peter the chance to save and eventually buy a block of land and build their house on Bright Street.
From very poor beginnings Peter and mum finally had a home of their own. Later in life you would see Peter walk around the garden on his property. He was never boastful, but you could tell that he was proud of that house and the fact that they had worked hard and earnt it.
Peter was an excellent husband… He always doted on mum…and was thinking of her right to the very end. To us he was easy to like with a shy and unassuming in nature, with a strong handshake, a sharp wit and a wonderful sense of humour. No big footprint…no fuss. In fact, I am quite sure he would feel awkward about all this fuss about him here today.
He played guitar and I personally shared some great moments with him, as he would show me the latest progression that he had learnt.
Later in life Mum and Pete would take lots of short holidays. Up to the Flinders Ranges…over to Peter’s sister Sue’s place, but their favourite area was along the Murray river...anywhere from here right up to the upper reaches. Once they spent a weekend in a house near the bridge over river at Kingston. Mum told me that Peter loved that house because from one vantage point you could see the Murray river….and an interesting example of roadworks.
Peter succumbed to emphysema and pneumonia one day after his 70th birthday, leaving behind a loving wife and family.
Peter was an organ donor and some lucky person has received the benefit of having Peter’s eyes. Peter’s ashes will be heading up the open road one last time in the near future, to be spread in the river that shares his name and was the centrepiece of so many of his holidays with mum. Let’s hope we strike some roadworks along the way.