Just About A Kiewa Kid
In this limited storybook, I will only be able to relate a handful of prominent, funny and important memories, as the life I experienced at Mt Beauty had so much more. To do justice to the fun, action, friendships and variety of life in these times, it would need to be written as a novel. We were in a very lucky place at that time.
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Life Growing Up
My life started at Lower Bogong but the first eighteen months there was a bit of a blur. But I can imagine the serenity of the tall mountain ash gums, gigantic tree ferns, trickling creek waters, native birds and marsupials sometimes interrupting the quiet Australian bush and it would not have been hard to bear. Even the few months of snow and cold weather would have had its uniqueness, serenity and beauty. Life on the mountain would have been bliss. I was too young to appreciate this start in life. However, the nature of the Scheme and its necessary progress with new developments meant for the family to move on. It must have been hard for the families at Lower Bogong to let go of their location after eight wonderful years of modern-living. The cruel reality of progress and change meant the need to re-locate the homes to Bogong Village, thereby furthering its development. Also at this stage, the commencement of Mt Beauty township had seen a few dozen houses completed and a scramble to secure a new home had begun.
So, Arthur Street, Mt Beauty was our new home in December, 1949 and although not as leafy and homely, it was new and big and a wonderful gift from the SEC to start our new life. We had chosen this new location after being allocated one of the homes in Mt Beauty by the Kiewa Works Administration. Dad was a very respected carpenter and throughout an economic low at the time, he was kept on when many others were laid off, as the Hydro Electric Scheme was reduced in size. My first recollection of life there was in long grass in the front yard. As a cheeky, going on two year old, I either remember, or remember being told that I would hide amongst the 2 foot long sun-dried, brown, summer grass of our new home. I was hiding from my calling and worried mum.
So, Arthur Street, Mt Beauty was our new home in December, 1949 and although not as leafy and homely, it was new and big and a wonderful gift from the SEC to start our new life. We had chosen this new location after being allocated one of the homes in Mt Beauty by the Kiewa Works Administration. Dad was a very respected carpenter and throughout an economic low at the time, he was kept on when many others were laid off, as the Hydro Electric Scheme was reduced in size. My first recollection of life there was in long grass in the front yard. As a cheeky, going on two year old, I either remember, or remember being told that I would hide amongst the 2 foot long sun-dried, brown, summer grass of our new home. I was hiding from my calling and worried mum.
Starting off serious life at Mt Beauty on the right foot, or should I say digit, I was probably just three when it was decided for medical reasons and agreed by everyone but me, that I required to be circumcised. I remember being dragged to the Tawonga and District Hospital, 5 miles away. I remember being held tightly by three unfriendly white Casper ghosts as the gas hissed and I squirmed and then reluctantly nodded off. I woke up to the beautiful aromatic smell of tomato soup. I still taste and cherish that moment even today. Then back at home, I remember my brothers saying "giss a look" and I dropped out a little bandaged digit. It was so sore, bloodied and gruesome. Then again, 90% of the boys those days had a helmet, so I didn't feel too different when lined up at the school urinal at playtime.
Dad worked hard to establish the home, workshop and garden. Mum was the architect and dad was the engineer and both were the labourers. His immaculate wall created with selected flat rocks to produce an amazing raised garden along the front and back of the house was a masterpiece. The walls terraced the property and provided open flat areas, making the most of the sloping land. Mum would then lacquer every single face rock every year and it would then again look spectacular.
Probably the most unique structure they designed and dad built was the huge flower basket in the centre of the lawn that became an icon within and outside of Mt Beauty. Tourists would call by and photograph the basket when flourishing with a wonderful array of pansies, lupins and angel fires displayed in a spectacular arrangement. It was possibly the most photographed rock wall structure outside of Jerusalem. My pet Blue Crane, Lily, is seen here in later years searching for snails and slugs. She used to sleep in dad's workshop at night and he wasn't very impressed with the black and white slimy condition of his lathe each morning.
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An Uncontrolled Burn
I was now approaching four years of age and my next adventure was one of my numerous brushes with the authorities. I found dad's box of Bryant and May Redhead matches and as mum kept the yard so clean and mown, there was nothing around to burn. Across the street up a house was the playground and I concluded that the dry grass was a real problem there. So I helped the SEC out by conducting an uncontrolled burn. The SEC Forestry Fire truck was there in no time and put it out. A blonde headed skinny kid with freckles and no shoes was seen in the area but he was smart and hid. When dragged out from under the car, I was questioned by four big men and mum. I blurted out, "Jack Payne, the grader driver ... he did it." What a dobbing little prick I was. Dad must have been a brilliant, indispensable worker, as this was one of the many times my mischievous adventures landed him in hot water and he could have easily been told 'down the road charlie'.
Kinder and School
I had now grown up considerably as I was going to kinder and later the big time deal at Mt Beauty Higher Elementary School. At kinder, I had my own bag of toiletries and a real suitcase that, like dad, I would have my lunch packed by mum with mashed egg and lettuce sandwiches, an apple and pure cow's milk for my bones. I still have that little blue case with my name inside. We would all put our toiletry bags on a coat hook bearing our name and the case below it. Funny but that is all I remember of Kinder. School was different. There were hundreds of kids as the Kiewa Scheme was in full swing and a lot of the kids were from different countries. They would come dressed in their own country's custom dress, like leather shorts with braces and wooden clogs.
I will always remember Ron Mc Kendrick (RIP 2018) calling around the back of our house with his vegemite toast in his hand and he would call out "Kimmie ready Mrs White?" and off we would go with our adopted kelpie cross, Brownie, to school. Brownie would come and wait at the top of the hill, right on school finish time every day, tail waging and off we would go, usually up the bush. We had so much diversity and fun at and after school.
Miss Brown Gr.2, Pop Campbell Gr.4 and Mr Grimes Gr.6, the main primary school teachers I can remember, and they saw out some of the grades through one to six. We had the 12 times table belted into us parrot fashion but we have never forgot them. In the forms, Mr Kemp, the Science teacher was so gullible, that we could get away with anything. Mr Lee was the scary one. If you were sent out of the room to stand in the corridor, that was his invitation to march you off to the staff room. |
He would then get out the leather strap, force you to outstretch both hands and would turn himself inside out as he swung that hide with power across your hands. Six of the best was the best deterrent for me as I made sure I was never caught misbehaving again.
Adventures and Fun Times
There was always something to do around Mt Beauty. We had access to rifles, we were always responsible and often went shooting rabbits. We fished and ferreted and made sleds where we would wax the runners and race down the Mt Beauty hill behind the town. We would start at the top and head down a 30% slope at probably 20 miles an hour and pull up in the blackberry bushes at the bottom.
We had forts all over the mountain and our favourite day trip was the West Kiewa Gorge. Every night after school it was 'see ya up the bush' and off we would go. Weekends as well and we would leave early and get home at dark for tea. It was a free and safe upbringing. No cotton ball protection as we see so often with kids today. We were always dirty, ripping our clothes, skinning our knees, leech and mozzie bitten, throwing stones, climbing 70' gum trees and making swings. Swimming and diving in all types of unknown pools and waterways but rarely were we hurt. One of the more dangerous types of fun was what we called sapling bending. We would find a group of trees and saplings and jump from about 15' high in a tree across to the tip of a sapling and the bend would take us down to the ground and a fairly rapid but soft landing.
We had forts all over the mountain and our favourite day trip was the West Kiewa Gorge. Every night after school it was 'see ya up the bush' and off we would go. Weekends as well and we would leave early and get home at dark for tea. It was a free and safe upbringing. No cotton ball protection as we see so often with kids today. We were always dirty, ripping our clothes, skinning our knees, leech and mozzie bitten, throwing stones, climbing 70' gum trees and making swings. Swimming and diving in all types of unknown pools and waterways but rarely were we hurt. One of the more dangerous types of fun was what we called sapling bending. We would find a group of trees and saplings and jump from about 15' high in a tree across to the tip of a sapling and the bend would take us down to the ground and a fairly rapid but soft landing.
We had billy carts and official billy cart races where the streets would be cut off to all traffic. The course was usually from the top Gatehouse near the end of Tawonga Crescent and would finish at the Post Office in Kiewa Crescent. I remember one of the yearly races when the Pyle twins, Roger and Graham (local mechanical garage sons), made a sleek billy cart that was way out of specs. It had 26" bicycle wheels on the back and ball bearing pram wheels on the front. It was pointed in a nose shape for supersonic racing and here we were in our little axel 6" hard rubber axel pram wheels. We had no hope. They broke the record by 45 seconds. It took the best of us 68 seconds to finish the run! They went past the finish line at 40 mph and ended up at the Tawonga South Hill where the cart only then would slow down. Cheats!
I must have been about eleven years old when we went for a walk up the bush this day, as we often did. This time, I think there was four of us. From memory, two were Ron Mc Kendrick and Barry Gerecke. For sure were myself and Daryl Black. We got up to the water storage behind the Mt Beauty Chalet as this was a great play area. The overflow from the reservoir was a four foot diameter round corrugated iron pipe and it sloped down the hill on a 30 degree angle. We would sit on a piece of 3-ply and rocket down that pipe at a hundred mile an hour. So after bumps, grazes and bruises we gave it away and started to monkey bar across the low roof covering of the reservoir. Daryl then lost his hold on the rafters and started to slowly slip down the concrete angled sides of the reservoir. I quickly swung across to him as he was disappearing into and under the deep water. In desperation, he grabbed my legs and I inched my way back up along the rafters to pull his head above water to be able to breathe again. I got him back over the side of the Reservoir and we lay there exhausted and relieved. He agreed that he was one lucky boy and that I had saved his life for sure. (Note: Sadly Darryl passed away in late January, 2015)
I must have been about eleven years old when we went for a walk up the bush this day, as we often did. This time, I think there was four of us. From memory, two were Ron Mc Kendrick and Barry Gerecke. For sure were myself and Daryl Black. We got up to the water storage behind the Mt Beauty Chalet as this was a great play area. The overflow from the reservoir was a four foot diameter round corrugated iron pipe and it sloped down the hill on a 30 degree angle. We would sit on a piece of 3-ply and rocket down that pipe at a hundred mile an hour. So after bumps, grazes and bruises we gave it away and started to monkey bar across the low roof covering of the reservoir. Daryl then lost his hold on the rafters and started to slowly slip down the concrete angled sides of the reservoir. I quickly swung across to him as he was disappearing into and under the deep water. In desperation, he grabbed my legs and I inched my way back up along the rafters to pull his head above water to be able to breathe again. I got him back over the side of the Reservoir and we lay there exhausted and relieved. He agreed that he was one lucky boy and that I had saved his life for sure. (Note: Sadly Darryl passed away in late January, 2015)
Damn Hard Work
I can remember in Boy Scouts when we were given little books to take around to people's places and ask for 'A Bob A Job'. I was never afraid of hard work and when I saw what I could earn for the Scouts, I thought that this money could also be earned by me. So from then on, I was never without a part-time job.
My first job was with Kevin Shoebridge, the Chemist. This was in Kiewa Cres next door to the Post Office (now Joe Iaria's Vegitation). I would wash out all the returned prescription bottles with soapy water and disinfectant, dry them and stack them up for the Pharmacist. At 1/2 pence a bottle, I could make 1 shilling a day and 5 shillings a week. I soon worked out that I could do better than that.
My next job was a paper round for SK Pearce. My run took me from the start of Nelse St, doing Simmonds, Freeburgh, Mc Kay, Wermatong, Valley, Wallace and Roper, ending at Fairway Avenue. After starting at 7am, I could do the run in 35 minutes, delivering 78 papers to 53 letterboxes. I loved that job and was paid well by June Hoffman at seven and sixpence a week.
In my early teens, I tried and failed at tobacco work. Jack Sharpe was one of the first tobacco farmers in the valley and in the early stages of the tobacco leaf growth, suckers needed to be pinched out. Well, when it was 104 degree in the shade and 204 in the sun, two bob an hour was slave labour. Bill Hutton and I left at lunchtime, never came back and never asked for the pay. Suckering was not for us suckers.
My first job was with Kevin Shoebridge, the Chemist. This was in Kiewa Cres next door to the Post Office (now Joe Iaria's Vegitation). I would wash out all the returned prescription bottles with soapy water and disinfectant, dry them and stack them up for the Pharmacist. At 1/2 pence a bottle, I could make 1 shilling a day and 5 shillings a week. I soon worked out that I could do better than that.
My next job was a paper round for SK Pearce. My run took me from the start of Nelse St, doing Simmonds, Freeburgh, Mc Kay, Wermatong, Valley, Wallace and Roper, ending at Fairway Avenue. After starting at 7am, I could do the run in 35 minutes, delivering 78 papers to 53 letterboxes. I loved that job and was paid well by June Hoffman at seven and sixpence a week.
In my early teens, I tried and failed at tobacco work. Jack Sharpe was one of the first tobacco farmers in the valley and in the early stages of the tobacco leaf growth, suckers needed to be pinched out. Well, when it was 104 degree in the shade and 204 in the sun, two bob an hour was slave labour. Bill Hutton and I left at lunchtime, never came back and never asked for the pay. Suckering was not for us suckers.
As I moved into my late teens, real work was on the agenda, so every holiday from school meant work. I had just turned 18 and my football profile in the town had helped when I applied for a barman's job with the Mt Beauty Workman's Club.
The year was 1966 and the old club, which was located on the same site as today, but was weatherboard, as pictured right. Not many people now would remember the old club, up to about 1969 when the new brick club was built. It had burned down twice. After my appointment to barman, there was divided opinion with the Committee and the membership and there was even a policy challenge to the committee and the Victorian Club's Association, on my appointment. The VCA membership rules regulated drinkers to be 21 years of age and many of the members felt being served by an underage kid was not legal. The challenge failed and later my appointment was vindicated, as the members commended me to be one of the most keen and efficient barman they had ever seen.
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The SEC workers would walk in after the whistle had blown at 5:15pm every work day and would not have to even ask for what they wanted. Their favoured 'staff glass' or 'handle pot' would be there with a great head. I owed the fight to retain me to the Manager, Vic Hill, as he always thought out of the square and had full confidence in me. He fought for my retention when there was petty, unreasonable questioning of my ability and maturity. Later on I treasured the beautifully written reference he gave me to help me in seeking work in the future. It was tragic that Vic passed away under sad circumstances not many years after that.
In between school, sport and my bar work, I still did the meat run for a friend of the family, Lee Northey. Lee ran the abattoirs and butcher's shop at Tawonga and also owned the butcher's shop at Mt Beauty. I would drive our family car down to Tawonga, pick up the orders that Lee had prepared and run them all around the valley to the customers. I had the dark grey 1963 Holden panel van, leather shoulder money bag and picked up the cash. I loved the responsibility and Lee paid me well.
In between school, sport and my bar work, I still did the meat run for a friend of the family, Lee Northey. Lee ran the abattoirs and butcher's shop at Tawonga and also owned the butcher's shop at Mt Beauty. I would drive our family car down to Tawonga, pick up the orders that Lee had prepared and run them all around the valley to the customers. I had the dark grey 1963 Holden panel van, leather shoulder money bag and picked up the cash. I loved the responsibility and Lee paid me well.
The one job I thought that I could knock over easily was making pallets. My good friend and sporting team-mate Dusty Collins put in a good word for me with Chris Wilson. Chris had the pallet business next to the Tawonga Saw Mill and Dusty was his right-hand-man, even though he was a left hander. We would arrive in 2 degree frosty mornings at 6am, light up the 44 gallon drum fire heater, stand there for half an hour to thaw out, then hammer like hell for 8 hours. So with each pallet completed with 185 nails hand-driven, it would tick over in my mind, 'at $2 a pallet, that is 5 hours before lunch then 3 after lunch, wow $16 a day, just enough to get pissed on at the Bogong Hotel tonight and some left over'.
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Probably the biggest change to the young local partying, drinking and fun scene was when Graham Irons (RIP) took over as licensee of the Bogong Hotel at Tawonga. Graham had married his childhood sweetheart in Robyn Hore. Her elderly father Doug Hore was getting tired and offered the young ones the lease and the hotel never looked back. Graham and Robyn threw money at modernizing and re-configuring the hotel. They showed commercial ingenuity, turning the local pub into a nightspot with good music and live entertainment. With the refurbishment and promotion assistance by Courage Breweries, the clientele began to grow. Great meals, pool tables, superb beer and most of all, personable barmen was the turnaround catalyst.
Bruce Perry and I had been great mates since primary school and I worked at the Club, part time and he left the State Savings Bank to work for Graham. When I was asked to join them, it was without hesitation, as the Club had always been the old guys club and the young bucks always frequented the Bogong pub. We were two of the most popular larrikins in the valley. There was girls, house parties, pool parties, abattoir parties and always with a nine-gallon keg and more girls. Every weekend was filled with grog and fun. No wonder we could never save any of our hard-earned cash. There commenced the rivalry between the two local watering holes. We organized pool competitions.
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We encouraged many of the drinkers from the Workman's Club to come over and business was great. We were the gun barman and could keep a bar full of perhaps 40 drinkers topped up continually. We went flat out, anticipated every move and honestly, did the bar work for four men, without a lie. We knew what every person drank, how to keep them drinking and even spoke to their wives when they rang to keep them drinking at the pub and they even didn't get into trouble when they got home. That was how good we were! Graham paid us well but again we probably paid him back in drinking grog at his pub in our spare time. He wasn't silly.
Working and making money aside, I have to relate this story at this time. Another character with popularity that we later recruited as a barman for Graham was big John Sutherland (RIP 2017). I remember one night in particular when Bruce and I took over the bar shift from John when it was coming on busy time at 6pm. We were tending to the bar by ourselves and as usual, John would go out into the bar after we relieved him and start drinking with his mate Ted Parry. They were considered the biggest drinkers around at that time and would often leave the bar at closing time, after drinking all day and continue drinking Courage cans, up in the pub's boiler room until the early hours of the morning. Then they would go to work the next day looking as sober as a judge.
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So Bruce and I thought we would bring Big John undone. Every pot he had was laced with a full shot of vodka. He just wouldn't go down. After ten pots, we thought this will be it. Nope, still sitting there so we pumped another five into him right up to closing time at 10pm. We thought, this will be it when he gets up he'll crash. Nope, he got straight up and walked straight to the door. We just could not believe that he could be still standing. Then he drove home! We did those stupid things in those days. We never told Graham (rest his soul) as it would have cost him probably two bottles of Vodka and litigation if something had have happened.
Football
Sport soon consumed my life both in school and local clubs. Aussie Rules Football in Mt Beauty was big, as the Tawonga and Bogong teams with the influx of workers from throughout Australia attracted some very talented players. We would watch all the games as kids and with Bogong winning consistently the following was huge. Playing well in the Wodonga Junior competition, I was soon noticed and selected to play for Bogong. I became the youngest player at sixteen to ever play football for Bogong in finals. Although we never won a flag, it was a strong team in the middle sixties, with former VFL players like Lenny Cottrell and Graham Mayberry (Carlton), George Barton and Jack Cooper (Hawthorn) and Barry Cottrell played with North Albury. They had been part of the champion team that I had played with in three finals. I remember one day, a trainer with Bogong, Paddy O'Brien said, "Kim, if you kick more than 4 goals against arch rival Mitta, I will shout a 9 gallon keg to the players." I kicked 5, we won the game and Paddy collected £200, from a Mitta supporter, so a donated niner was nothin' to him.
Dad had always hated football or any physical contact sport, for that matter. So when Thorald Merrett, a Collingwood recruiter at the time, asked him through the Bogong Football Club President, Wally Tappe, if I could be recruited to a Collingwood training camp in the school holidays in 1964, dad said no.
One of my greatest moments in football was at a school match against Myrtleford in 1964 that I was asked to play centre half back on the superstar Ovens and Murray player Sam Kekovich. Being a forward, I couldn't understand why the coach would do this. Sam was kept goal-less and I was awarded 'Best on Ground'. The umpire was Ron Branton, a Richmond champion and Myrtleford coach, so I think I might have earned it that day. I owed it though, to Coach Max Davies, with his tactic to nullify this great champion, as we won the game.
Dad had always hated football or any physical contact sport, for that matter. So when Thorald Merrett, a Collingwood recruiter at the time, asked him through the Bogong Football Club President, Wally Tappe, if I could be recruited to a Collingwood training camp in the school holidays in 1964, dad said no.
One of my greatest moments in football was at a school match against Myrtleford in 1964 that I was asked to play centre half back on the superstar Ovens and Murray player Sam Kekovich. Being a forward, I couldn't understand why the coach would do this. Sam was kept goal-less and I was awarded 'Best on Ground'. The umpire was Ron Branton, a Richmond champion and Myrtleford coach, so I think I might have earned it that day. I owed it though, to Coach Max Davies, with his tactic to nullify this great champion, as we won the game.
In late 1964 I had a knee injury from a school game and had my right cartilage removed. Late in the season of 1965, I was elbowed in the stomach by a Lavington player at a home game at Mt Beauty. I was attended to and rubbed down on the field by Peter Ranton, the trainer and then played on, even kicking another goal. That night the injury manifested and I was rushed to Wangaratta Base Hospital in a critical condition. Every bump in the road shook the ambulance and for the 80 mile trip each jolt felt like a kick in the guts. Mum was with me and the Surgeon, Mr Bartram later said to her "another 10 minutes and peritonitis would have set in and he would have been dead by morning. A very lucky boy. His bowel was ruptured and we had to vacuum out the shit that was everywhere". What a shock. I don't think I ever played as well after that as it was a long road back.
The highlight of my footy career had to be when I won the Wodonga and District Junior Football League Best and Fairest award in 1965. |
Cricket
My greatest sporting love has always been cricket. As a thirteen year old, I was asked to play for the Mt Beauty first eleven. The competition was the Ovens Valley Cricket Association and Mt Beauty fielded two sides in the one competition. Not an ideal situation as there was immense disharmony between the two sides. If someone was playing well, they would be poached by the first eleven but then again everyone was getting a game. Not long after I was selected for the firsts, the seconds decided to breakaway and form their own team. The second team became the Mt Beauty Rovers and the local teams continued their rivalry. In one particular match against the Rovers I achieved my best bowling figures of 8 wickets for 11 runs and we dismissed the Rovers for 38.
I will always remember the early cricket years when Malcolm Davidson and I were real cricket mates and opening bowlers. I was 16 and he was 24. He would always pick me up in his little Triumph and we would slide around the corners of the Tawonga Gap on our way to a matches when played over there. The road was unsealed then and the corrugation was horrendous. He would try to break his record time and would leave Mt Beauty when Clyde Smith and Billy Moorman were padding up at the Bright ground. We always got there in time.
I recall the 1964/65 grand final that we won against the Bright Wanderers. We were invited back by Cobber Smith, the Wanderers captain's home in Harrietville for a BBQ. Billy Moorman was so happy with the team's win that day, that he celebrated by eating all of Cobber Smith's prize rose petals out the front.
I recently caught up with an old Mt Beauty successful cricket captain in Clyde Smith (RIP 2017). Clyde was the local policeman at the time and captained our 1964/65, 1965/66 and 1966/67 premierships. Clyde was instrumental in guiding me through my cricketing career. He always said I had potential and that led him to ask me at our meeting, "Kimmy, did you ever get to play for Australia?" That was a nice compliment from a revered and respected, now eighty six year old, friend.
The 1965/66 premiership was even better. After closing time at the Pinewood Hotel and all half tanked, Captain Clyde Smith (reminder - policeman) said "Is anyone hungry?" He then led us on foot up to the closed Alpine Hotel, owned by a Bright cricket player, Stewart Bartel. We snuck inside the back doors and Clyde said as he opened the commercial fridge doors, "Help yourself boys, you earned it today. Stewie won't mind." There was cold roast pork, lamb, baked potatoes and pumpkin. Clyde, between mouthfuls added, "There's a beer here also boys. He is shouting that as well." I think from the mess found the next morning, Stewie knew who had been there. Later on, in the early hours of Sunday morning, nearing our drop offs back at Mt Beauty, Billy Moorman said, "Pull up Smithy". It was outside Brian Purcell's house in Lakeside Avenue. Brian was in another car and had not arrived back from Bright yet. We were wondering why Billy was taking so long and what he was up to, so Daiso and I went to check him out. Around the back was Bill's legs dangling out of the bathroom window. We had to grab and pull him off the window sill. When we asked him what he was doing, he said he just wanted to say g'day to Brian's very attractive wife.
The Association was growing and one new team, the Myrtleford Rovers entered the competition in about 1970. They were a young team coached by two older players, Mick Dineen and Vic Garoni, who led them through their teens and into a fine young team. Their spearhead opening bowler became their big threat and they started to win more games. The bowler was Merv Hughes who had commenced his senior cricket career with the Saints, when his father took up a teaching position in Myrtleford. As an opening bowler for Mt Beauty myself, I would often run in fast and with the same bowling action deliver a slow 'leggy'. I started my bowling in cricket as a leg spinner as my idol then was Ritchie Benaud and as I had good control with a fast action, I captured many wickets with this delivery. Merv Hughes also introduced this delivery into his test cricket career with success. I like to think that he copied me with that one as I had him tied up in knots when he was batting a few times. I held five record batting partnerships with Mt Beauty Cricket Club at one stage and I won two Association batting averages.
With the addition of more teams and a much stronger Association, now called The Ovens and Kiewa Cricket Association, it was in 1978, that I was selected to represent the Association in Country Week Cricket in Melbourne. The teams competing get the opportunity to play on many of the beautiful suburban turf wicket grounds and even the MCG. It was at Box Hill when we needed to win the match to gain a place in the final. We needed 4 runs to win and I was 17 not out. We were 9 wickets down and my Mt Beauty compatriate, Geoff Willing, was on strike in the last over. He tickled one around the corner and then I was facing. The next ball was pitched well up on middle stump. I played straight and firm and the ball flew from the sweet spot middle of the bat past the outstretched bowler's right hand to the boundary. We had won this crucial match and then with the bowling strength of Merv Hughes and a good balanced team, we went on to win the Country Week Cricket final the next day. This was the first and only time the Association had won the title.
I will always remember the early cricket years when Malcolm Davidson and I were real cricket mates and opening bowlers. I was 16 and he was 24. He would always pick me up in his little Triumph and we would slide around the corners of the Tawonga Gap on our way to a matches when played over there. The road was unsealed then and the corrugation was horrendous. He would try to break his record time and would leave Mt Beauty when Clyde Smith and Billy Moorman were padding up at the Bright ground. We always got there in time.
I recall the 1964/65 grand final that we won against the Bright Wanderers. We were invited back by Cobber Smith, the Wanderers captain's home in Harrietville for a BBQ. Billy Moorman was so happy with the team's win that day, that he celebrated by eating all of Cobber Smith's prize rose petals out the front.
I recently caught up with an old Mt Beauty successful cricket captain in Clyde Smith (RIP 2017). Clyde was the local policeman at the time and captained our 1964/65, 1965/66 and 1966/67 premierships. Clyde was instrumental in guiding me through my cricketing career. He always said I had potential and that led him to ask me at our meeting, "Kimmy, did you ever get to play for Australia?" That was a nice compliment from a revered and respected, now eighty six year old, friend.
The 1965/66 premiership was even better. After closing time at the Pinewood Hotel and all half tanked, Captain Clyde Smith (reminder - policeman) said "Is anyone hungry?" He then led us on foot up to the closed Alpine Hotel, owned by a Bright cricket player, Stewart Bartel. We snuck inside the back doors and Clyde said as he opened the commercial fridge doors, "Help yourself boys, you earned it today. Stewie won't mind." There was cold roast pork, lamb, baked potatoes and pumpkin. Clyde, between mouthfuls added, "There's a beer here also boys. He is shouting that as well." I think from the mess found the next morning, Stewie knew who had been there. Later on, in the early hours of Sunday morning, nearing our drop offs back at Mt Beauty, Billy Moorman said, "Pull up Smithy". It was outside Brian Purcell's house in Lakeside Avenue. Brian was in another car and had not arrived back from Bright yet. We were wondering why Billy was taking so long and what he was up to, so Daiso and I went to check him out. Around the back was Bill's legs dangling out of the bathroom window. We had to grab and pull him off the window sill. When we asked him what he was doing, he said he just wanted to say g'day to Brian's very attractive wife.
The Association was growing and one new team, the Myrtleford Rovers entered the competition in about 1970. They were a young team coached by two older players, Mick Dineen and Vic Garoni, who led them through their teens and into a fine young team. Their spearhead opening bowler became their big threat and they started to win more games. The bowler was Merv Hughes who had commenced his senior cricket career with the Saints, when his father took up a teaching position in Myrtleford. As an opening bowler for Mt Beauty myself, I would often run in fast and with the same bowling action deliver a slow 'leggy'. I started my bowling in cricket as a leg spinner as my idol then was Ritchie Benaud and as I had good control with a fast action, I captured many wickets with this delivery. Merv Hughes also introduced this delivery into his test cricket career with success. I like to think that he copied me with that one as I had him tied up in knots when he was batting a few times. I held five record batting partnerships with Mt Beauty Cricket Club at one stage and I won two Association batting averages.
With the addition of more teams and a much stronger Association, now called The Ovens and Kiewa Cricket Association, it was in 1978, that I was selected to represent the Association in Country Week Cricket in Melbourne. The teams competing get the opportunity to play on many of the beautiful suburban turf wicket grounds and even the MCG. It was at Box Hill when we needed to win the match to gain a place in the final. We needed 4 runs to win and I was 17 not out. We were 9 wickets down and my Mt Beauty compatriate, Geoff Willing, was on strike in the last over. He tickled one around the corner and then I was facing. The next ball was pitched well up on middle stump. I played straight and firm and the ball flew from the sweet spot middle of the bat past the outstretched bowler's right hand to the boundary. We had won this crucial match and then with the bowling strength of Merv Hughes and a good balanced team, we went on to win the Country Week Cricket final the next day. This was the first and only time the Association had won the title.
Pictured above: The Ovens and Kiewa Cricket Association team that won Country Week Cricket in Melbourne in 1978. The final was held at the South Melbourne Cricket Ground. We beat Pakenham.
I captained the Mt Beauty Cricket Club for a record five years straight and the club had appeared in seven finals, winning three premierships. I had made seven centuries throughout my cricketing career and played for Richmond Union in Melbourne's VJCA from 1970-71 making 93 not out against Parkville. However, the family life of bringing up two kids soon became too hard and I gave competition cricket away in 1979 to raise two great kids. After leaving Mt Beauty behind after 32 years and moving to Melbourne in 1980, it was my time to follow them around Australia in their sports.
I captained the Mt Beauty Cricket Club for a record five years straight and the club had appeared in seven finals, winning three premierships. I had made seven centuries throughout my cricketing career and played for Richmond Union in Melbourne's VJCA from 1970-71 making 93 not out against Parkville. However, the family life of bringing up two kids soon became too hard and I gave competition cricket away in 1979 to raise two great kids. After leaving Mt Beauty behind after 32 years and moving to Melbourne in 1980, it was my time to follow them around Australia in their sports.
The Tunnel Thriller
The year was 1964 and being adventurous as a 16 year old, I suggested to my four mates to take my dad's fishing boat for a burl on the Mt Beauty lake (SEC Regulating Pondage). With a 4hp Mercury motor chugging away and the lake being so small, we soon got bored. That's when I said, "let's go up the tail race tunnel and see what's up there." There was some hesitation but agreement was eventually reached. All excited, well not all of the group. Billy Hutton squibed out by saying, "I'm not coming, you'll all get in the shit. Also, our dads' would be held accountable for our actions." That's why Bill didn't go and in retrospect he was dead right. So we drop Billy off onto the bank and the four of us pull the boat over the small spillway and head up the tail race. We were ignorant to the eminent dangers, stupidity and the repercussions that we were about to embark on. To understand what this SEC hydro electricity scheme infrastructure meant, some explanation is needed. The tail race, about 1km long, 20m wide and 10m deep carries the last stage of the water from the West Kiewa Power Station to the Mt Beauty Pondage, when the turbines are producing electricity. Being gravity water powered and valve controlled, hydro power is immediate when the requirement for peak demand electricity is required by the National power grid.
The spent water is firstly carried through a tunnel, 10m in diameter, cut through the mountain between West Kiewa Power Station and Mt Beauty tail race at a gradient of about 30 degrees. The entire diameter of the tunnel is then full with water and under immense pressure. Nobody told us all this, did they! So, all excited, we reached the entrance to the tunnel and headed in under full power. What fun. We looked back at the half-round light from outside as it got smaller and smaller. We progressively went deeper in along the concrete walled tunnel. Robin Morgan chased a waterlogged duck and Ron McKendrick tried to catch the swooping bats. We started to scare each other and had loads of fun yelling and listening to our echos come back.
Just then we run aground and cut the motor. The water is now running over bare rocks and the tunnel becomes just one great hole carved through solid rock. We probably travelled a kilometre underground and as we couldn't go much further, we decided to head back.
As the daylight became brighter and strained our eyes, we could make out some human figures standing on the bank outside the tunnel mouth. What would guys in uniforms be here for, we thought. Then a loud voice roared, "Pull over driver" the Senior Constable, Tom Luscombe demanded. Then the SEC patrolman, Jim Couch yelled out, "Do you idiots realise what you have done! You have halted the production of electricity for the whole of Victoria. If we hadn't held back the generation, you would all be vitamized in that tunnel.
Luckily, two SEC workers saw you going up the tail race and reported it. Your parents will all be informed and a summons will be issued by the police, you bloody drips."
Well, two of our dads worked for the SEC and went close to losing their jobs. We waited for months in expectation of a summons. It never turned up and Jim Couch, the SEC Patrolman on that day, later told me that it was never their intention to issue a summons. It was just a ploy to scare the livin' day lights out of us. It worked! |
Murder At The Gorge
The Victorian Homicide Squad interviewed me in 2005. I was approached by Detective Sergeant Wayne Newman and asked to recount a story that I had already disclosed to police at the time of Derek Percy's arrest for the murder of Yvonne Tuohy at Warneet in 1970. The case had gone cold for 30 years and Wayne led the team to try to link other crimes to Percy. My life long friend Bill Hutton and I gave statements to the Homicide Squad about what we witnessed on a warm summers day in December, 1964.
On that Sunday afternoon, Bill Hutton and myself headed up to the Gorge on the West Kiewa river, as this was our haven for swimming, fun and adventure. We were just two 16 year old mates enjoying the natural surrounds and we were just about to witness the un-natural, that would stay with us for the rest of our lives. Not so much of what we saw but what was not believed of us thereafter, until it was too late for any intervention to prevent what was about to occur over the next 5 treacherous years, for several young girls and boys. The Gorge was well known to locals and was a good 5km walk from the Mt Beauty township. We head up behind the Chalet and along the SEC race line, meeting up with a fire access track. This leads to the West Kiewa river at the old broken-down bridge site, then the road follows the river upstream, increasing in height to about 100 metres above the south side of the river.The pools below are a crystal clear blue and massive flat and odd shaped rocks line their rugged banks.
As we neared our favourite Indian Face rock, we noticed a figure down on the rocks at one of the larger swimming holes. It appeared to be a young girl in a petticoat. Bill thought there may have been some girls skinny dipping and we went closer to get a better look. As we crept closer, we realized it was a school mate, Derek Percy, wearing a silky, see-through pink coloured negligee. That's Percy we both retorted. Bill picked up a yonnie and was just about to chuck it, when I said, "Hang on Bill, let's watch and see what he does. This is not very normal". Bill agreed and we lay down on the road embankment and could not believe what was about to unfold. Derek started dancing around in a tribal manner, waving a large knife that he had in one hand and he made strange sounds, as he leapt backwards and forwards. He then transfixed his eyes on the water and stood there suspended in time for quite a while.
On that Sunday afternoon, Bill Hutton and myself headed up to the Gorge on the West Kiewa river, as this was our haven for swimming, fun and adventure. We were just two 16 year old mates enjoying the natural surrounds and we were just about to witness the un-natural, that would stay with us for the rest of our lives. Not so much of what we saw but what was not believed of us thereafter, until it was too late for any intervention to prevent what was about to occur over the next 5 treacherous years, for several young girls and boys. The Gorge was well known to locals and was a good 5km walk from the Mt Beauty township. We head up behind the Chalet and along the SEC race line, meeting up with a fire access track. This leads to the West Kiewa river at the old broken-down bridge site, then the road follows the river upstream, increasing in height to about 100 metres above the south side of the river.The pools below are a crystal clear blue and massive flat and odd shaped rocks line their rugged banks.
As we neared our favourite Indian Face rock, we noticed a figure down on the rocks at one of the larger swimming holes. It appeared to be a young girl in a petticoat. Bill thought there may have been some girls skinny dipping and we went closer to get a better look. As we crept closer, we realized it was a school mate, Derek Percy, wearing a silky, see-through pink coloured negligee. That's Percy we both retorted. Bill picked up a yonnie and was just about to chuck it, when I said, "Hang on Bill, let's watch and see what he does. This is not very normal". Bill agreed and we lay down on the road embankment and could not believe what was about to unfold. Derek started dancing around in a tribal manner, waving a large knife that he had in one hand and he made strange sounds, as he leapt backwards and forwards. He then transfixed his eyes on the water and stood there suspended in time for quite a while.
Percy then started slashing the the women's clothing in a violent and aggressive manner, concluding with his stabbing at the crotch of the knickers. His demeanour had changed and we could feel coldly that there was a very sinister and ugly behaviour attached to this boy. Percy then took off the slashed pink petticoat and stood naked at the water's edge.
The photo at left is the actual location at the gorge where Percy was seen acting very weirdly by Bill Hutton and I in 1964. Bill walked up to the location in early 2014 and took many photos. We both agreed that this was the location. My editing of the photo shows where Percy was standing on that day. Myself and Bill are shown watching in the foreground.
The photo at left is the actual location at the gorge where Percy was seen acting very weirdly by Bill Hutton and I in 1964. Bill walked up to the location in early 2014 and took many photos. We both agreed that this was the location. My editing of the photo shows where Percy was standing on that day. Myself and Bill are shown watching in the foreground.
Considerable time went by and he again seemed deep in thought. He then squatted down and defecated into the water. He got dressed into his clothes and with the women's clothes under his arm, he rock-hopped down the river.
We were not to know that what we had just witnessed, was very relevant to the cases investigated by the Homicide squad, many years later. There was a knife involved, slashing of the bodies in a ritualistic manner, slashing of the clothes, defecating on the bodies and always, the crimes were connected with water. All of these facts were crucial to the linking of the many cases that Percy was thought to have committed. We then followed Percy back along the track keeping him in view down on the river. He stopped at the old bridge, hid the women's clothes under a rock, took his bike out from behind some bushes and rode off back to Mt Beauty. With him well out of sight, we confirmed that he had hid the women's clothes under the rock and we left them untouched. We looked at each other in amazement at what we had just witnessed. Then the realisation hit us that he may have killed someone up there on the river where he was thrashing about. Murder at the Gorge! Had we arrived after the event too late to prevent it, or at least witness it. No, it wasn't possible. Not in a quiet town like Mt Beauty! Up we went with our hearts racing, looking around, prepared for a grizzly find. After searching for some time, we concluded that there wasn't a body or else he had hidden it very well. I knelt down to have a drink from the pool and Bill said "Look out Whitey, here comes Percy's floating turd!" That last gulp of water sprayed across the river as I leapt up and yelled and spat.
The next day at school, we were determined to see Percy squirm in front of his peers. So at the first recess on the oval, we had our best chance, as about 12 mates were gathered. I loudly said, "Hey Derek, what were you doing up the gorge yesterday?" Derek had this nervous habit of spitting and he then began to spit to one side as he quickly replied, "I wasn't up the gorge yesterday." "Yes you were, Bill and I saw you. You were dressed in women's clothing!" Derek just kept repeating that he wasn't up there. His answer to detectives right up until he died of cancer in 2013, when asked of his involvement in 9 murders, was "I don't think I was there, I can't remember." Maybe, he really believed that he wasn't up the gorge. We will never know!
The biggest tragedy to come was that when we told the Vice Principal of the school of what we had witnessed, his reply was that we should not be spreading rumours and not to go bringing up things like that. How times change! If Percy's behaviour was alleged to have happened around any school these days, there would be an immediate, serious and thorough investigation. Had that been the case, there is a possibility that 9 young children would be still alive today.
You may ask, why my story is called "Murder At The Gorge." Well, there may not have been a murder at the gorge on that day, but the gorge was where murderous thoughts and actions were played out. There is little doubt that the several murders occurring after the gorge incident, considered to have been at the hands of Percy, may have been prevented, had there been serious and early intervention into Percy's strange behaviour. Bill and I have lived with this haunting thought ever since. Maybe Bill should have tossed that yonnie and struck Percy between the eyes and dropped him. Then again, knowing Bill and his cricket arm, he would have missed and anything could have resulted!
We were not to know that what we had just witnessed, was very relevant to the cases investigated by the Homicide squad, many years later. There was a knife involved, slashing of the bodies in a ritualistic manner, slashing of the clothes, defecating on the bodies and always, the crimes were connected with water. All of these facts were crucial to the linking of the many cases that Percy was thought to have committed. We then followed Percy back along the track keeping him in view down on the river. He stopped at the old bridge, hid the women's clothes under a rock, took his bike out from behind some bushes and rode off back to Mt Beauty. With him well out of sight, we confirmed that he had hid the women's clothes under the rock and we left them untouched. We looked at each other in amazement at what we had just witnessed. Then the realisation hit us that he may have killed someone up there on the river where he was thrashing about. Murder at the Gorge! Had we arrived after the event too late to prevent it, or at least witness it. No, it wasn't possible. Not in a quiet town like Mt Beauty! Up we went with our hearts racing, looking around, prepared for a grizzly find. After searching for some time, we concluded that there wasn't a body or else he had hidden it very well. I knelt down to have a drink from the pool and Bill said "Look out Whitey, here comes Percy's floating turd!" That last gulp of water sprayed across the river as I leapt up and yelled and spat.
The next day at school, we were determined to see Percy squirm in front of his peers. So at the first recess on the oval, we had our best chance, as about 12 mates were gathered. I loudly said, "Hey Derek, what were you doing up the gorge yesterday?" Derek had this nervous habit of spitting and he then began to spit to one side as he quickly replied, "I wasn't up the gorge yesterday." "Yes you were, Bill and I saw you. You were dressed in women's clothing!" Derek just kept repeating that he wasn't up there. His answer to detectives right up until he died of cancer in 2013, when asked of his involvement in 9 murders, was "I don't think I was there, I can't remember." Maybe, he really believed that he wasn't up the gorge. We will never know!
The biggest tragedy to come was that when we told the Vice Principal of the school of what we had witnessed, his reply was that we should not be spreading rumours and not to go bringing up things like that. How times change! If Percy's behaviour was alleged to have happened around any school these days, there would be an immediate, serious and thorough investigation. Had that been the case, there is a possibility that 9 young children would be still alive today.
You may ask, why my story is called "Murder At The Gorge." Well, there may not have been a murder at the gorge on that day, but the gorge was where murderous thoughts and actions were played out. There is little doubt that the several murders occurring after the gorge incident, considered to have been at the hands of Percy, may have been prevented, had there been serious and early intervention into Percy's strange behaviour. Bill and I have lived with this haunting thought ever since. Maybe Bill should have tossed that yonnie and struck Percy between the eyes and dropped him. Then again, knowing Bill and his cricket arm, he would have missed and anything could have resulted!
The novel pictured at right, is authored by Alan Whiticker, who interviewed Bill and myself and used our story and photos. It traces the links to other crimes that made them all so eerie and tragic and why it was so important for our story to be told. It is a very good and accurate read and I recommended it to you.
I was also interviewed by John Sylvester (Sly of the Underworld) on 3AW and another author, Debbie Marshall also interviewed me and featured our story in her book "Slaughter of the Lambs".
I was also interviewed by John Sylvester (Sly of the Underworld) on 3AW and another author, Debbie Marshall also interviewed me and featured our story in her book "Slaughter of the Lambs".
Life After School in Brief
When completing Matriculation in 1967, I was successful in my application for a position with the SEC in Melbourne. After two years in the big horrible smoke, Pat Canny had just retired from the SEC Merchandise position in Hollands St, Mt Beauty in 1970. I was successful when applying for that position and returned home to my beloved Kiewa Valley.
The next three years was a blur, being single, engaging in fun, girls, drinking and sport into my late 20's. My courting soon slowed me down and led to marriage in 1973. Two great kids in Lisa and Brad entered and unreservedly and unconditionally consumed my life. We had built our first home in Mt Beauty and then another in Tawonga South. In 1982 I succeeded in my application for a promotional position with the SEC back in Melbourne.
The Melbourne working years through to 1989 was as a Health and Safety Coordinator until the SEC was privatized. I then became the Risk Management Officer for the Springvale City Council up until council amalgamations in 1995. I divorced in 1995 and the kids stayed with me. I put them through College and University and then re-married in 2001. My formal working career ended in 2011 with Kmart as a Distribution Centre Analyst. I then semi-retired to a hobby farm in Northern Victoria, selling that in 2013 to fully retire and peruse Helen's and my dream of traveling around Australia in our great new home on wheels. Web only explored up the eastern coast and inland and after 4 years decided nthat Cairn was the best place out of the snow, wind and cold of Victoria. We now have settled in the Cairns suburb of Bunghalow and reset our working life with a new airport transfer business.
So 32 years in Melbourne that was preceded by 32 years in Mt Beauty. I have never forgotten that wonderful country upbringing. That great life in the Kiewa Valley that is so mindfully entrenched and will always be dearly replayed for hopefully another 32 years. Looking back at those Kiewa years, almost all of my peers had left the valley well before me and were never to return. I may have been 'Just a Kiewa Kid' at that time but I probably still hold the proud title of being the longest serving Kiewa kid, before leaving, of my generation.
The next three years was a blur, being single, engaging in fun, girls, drinking and sport into my late 20's. My courting soon slowed me down and led to marriage in 1973. Two great kids in Lisa and Brad entered and unreservedly and unconditionally consumed my life. We had built our first home in Mt Beauty and then another in Tawonga South. In 1982 I succeeded in my application for a promotional position with the SEC back in Melbourne.
The Melbourne working years through to 1989 was as a Health and Safety Coordinator until the SEC was privatized. I then became the Risk Management Officer for the Springvale City Council up until council amalgamations in 1995. I divorced in 1995 and the kids stayed with me. I put them through College and University and then re-married in 2001. My formal working career ended in 2011 with Kmart as a Distribution Centre Analyst. I then semi-retired to a hobby farm in Northern Victoria, selling that in 2013 to fully retire and peruse Helen's and my dream of traveling around Australia in our great new home on wheels. Web only explored up the eastern coast and inland and after 4 years decided nthat Cairn was the best place out of the snow, wind and cold of Victoria. We now have settled in the Cairns suburb of Bunghalow and reset our working life with a new airport transfer business.
So 32 years in Melbourne that was preceded by 32 years in Mt Beauty. I have never forgotten that wonderful country upbringing. That great life in the Kiewa Valley that is so mindfully entrenched and will always be dearly replayed for hopefully another 32 years. Looking back at those Kiewa years, almost all of my peers had left the valley well before me and were never to return. I may have been 'Just a Kiewa Kid' at that time but I probably still hold the proud title of being the longest serving Kiewa kid, before leaving, of my generation.