Don't kill him Bill don't kill him
Don't kill him Bill don't kill him
This story occurs many years ago in a land long since taken over by suburbia below the Toowoomba range. I think about 1960.
We had a farm below the range. It was a mixed dairy, piggery, with some cultivation. Most of the time it was run by a share farming family The Joneses. A big family as I remember.
There was a time when mother's friend Paddy McCallum stayed in the old farmhouse. Paddy was a wonderful character who always seemed to me to be old. I think mother liked her because she was a fellow author and they always had much to discuss. Paddy deserves a story of her own.
Anyway at the time I would have been very young maybe only 6-10 years we were all there. Dad was cleaning up in the garden cutting down some shrub and armed with an axe.
My elder brother Michael was out on the tractor a wonderful old Fordson Major - start on petrol and run on kero - doing what I cannot remember. He might have been 14 years old and not exactly an experienced driver. Must have been after the boys (John and Michael) had done its rings, bearings and head as it was running well. I would have been fascinated by this work and I think I have glimpses of memory of kits of rings and gaskets. Don’t think I would have been much help at 6 years old.
He was planning to park the tractor in the garage by the house. A big old tin shed wide enough for a couple of vehicles and high. There was a steep slope that you had to get up to get into the garage. There was then only a few lengths to pull up so a bit of precision driving required. Evidently Michael gunned it to get up this slope but when he got into the garage he missed the brake and carried on until the tractor hit a pole holding up the roof. There was a terrific noise as the roof acted as a huge sounding board.
Paddy was on the veranda looking on. Dad heard the commotion and ran towards the garage evidently swinging the axe over his head.
This is when Paddy called out from the veranda “Don't kill him Bill don't kill him”.
I don't think Dad had any murderous intent - just didn't want to drop the axe. I only remember him becoming properly angry once or twice in my lifetime and that was over the heinous sin of chewing gum. He had an irrational fear of gum on the floor or the unthinkable in the carpet.
Mick was very lucky in that he hit the only post not well secured to the roof. The bolt was missing. The post moved in its hole a long way - the top a yard or two out from the roof, but the roof did not come down.
In the end the post was pushed back into place and properly attached to the roof with a few Cobb and Co wire hitches - no real harm done. You can fix anything with a Cobb and Co. I have got good at them over the years. You fold a length of thick fencing wire in half. Wrap it around whatever you need to attach and with a screw driver or other bar through the loop wind it up.
The old house that Paddy stayed in was pretty basic as I remember at that time. Not sure that it had the electric but I certainly remember a wood stove on which Paddy cooked a perpetual soup - never came off the stove for months at a time - just add more vegies every now and then.
There was a Singer treadle sewing machine on the veranda. I remember being fascinated by it and attempting to sew with it with no success. Only very recently have I conquered a sewing machine and achieved a few basic mending jobs.
I came across one of these Jones children a few years ago maybe 50 years after this photo. Sold me a hat at Hannas in Toowoomba I think - spotted the name and after these many years and we reminisced. She reported that all had done well. One I think mayor of Crows Nest and a school Principal or two.
I didn't know there was a Durack farm outside Toowoomba.