The moment we have all been waiting for has arrived....Here are those fantastic true stories from the winners of the In Vino; Veritas competition. Enjoy, bloggers, enjoy.
First up: Settle back with Noel Lipp for the adventures of a legendary Barcaldine character Clarence "Chips" Pellow. Take it away Lippy...
The "Chips" Pellow Story (and it's all true)
'Chips' Pellow (Clarence Pellow) spent most of his life living and working in and around Barcaldine. The paragraphs below depict events in his life during the Great Depression in the early 1930s.
His father, Herbie Pellow, had a shearing job at Winton and had sent 'Chips' a message saying that he could have a roustabout job in the same shed. So, not being one to knock back opportunity, the then 19 year old, 'Chips', caught the goods train to Winton. After the initial job, 'Chips' got a job as a cowboy at a station on an adjacent property and subsequently secured his first shearing job at a station to the north of Winton.
At the end of the shearing season 'Chips' ventured off to the Rockhampton area at the height of the deepest depression in Australia's history. Unemployment queues grew and, like so many others out of work, 'Chips' 'humped his bluey' and took to the road looking for a job.
Quite often this group, unauthorised and unlawfully used the Queensland Railways for transport. This was called 'jumping the rattler' and was done as the train slowed to a walking pace, such as when pulling up a slope, pulling out of an isolated siding or approaching a signal.
It was while he was at Duaringa that 'Chips' decided to return home. The idea was to find an empty wagon, run beside the train, throw in the swag and then jump in. Most of the swagmen did this okay. Just as our young 'Chips' made the carriage, his swag fell out under the wagon wheels. By chance the carriage was derailed which stopped the train.
All the free-loaders could do was scatter; so they went bush. Duaringa is a dry area, so they had to sneak back later for water. The police had an aboriginal tracker looking for them and soon they had the main culprit, 'Chips', in custody.
Clarence Joseph Pellow got two weeks in the Rockhampton lock-up - for derailing the train - to the lasting embarrassment of his Mum and siblings, while his dear old Dad, Herbie, could only chuckle, telling the story 40 years later.
Later on in this time of terrific social and economic upheaval, word came to the unemployed that the Government was implementing a new scheme in the Callide Valley. Land would be made available for selection and the Government vowed to pay wages for clearing (by axe) the brigalow scrub.
It sounded good to 'Chips' so he set off with some mates "jumping the rattler" on the Callide line, to the railhead in Jambin. En route, the train stopped at the small farming town of Wowan, the swaggies' wagon was discovered, and, when the gruff old Police Sergeant arrived, most of the transients bolted and scattered. But the red-headed Pellow lad had had enough of racing through the bush with Police in hot pursuit, and meekly surrendered. He was taken to the Magistrate's Office and was charged before two Justices of the Peace for fare evasion.
Clarence Joseph Pellow was sentenced to two days in the Wowan Lockup. The problem was that there was no Wowan lockup, so he was handcuffed to the Prison's tree for 48 hours. 'Chips', however, wasn't too upset about this. The Police Sergeant's wife cooked him three meals a day and his partners, in crime, were out of rations, starving and were still being sought by the authorities. A good feed was always high on the agenda of one 'Chips' Pellow.
... After the cold days in 2005, 'Chips' spent five weeks with his daughter Stephanie and family at Eidsvold until the end of October. He also had the opportunity of visiting his other two daughters Helen and Lesley. On Sunday 13 November, he walked his customary 100 metres to see Dot in the retirement village in Yeppoon - to have his morning tea - a social practice which occurred daily.
He returned to his unit, probably had some lunch, switched on the cricket (a one-dayer), and dropped off to sleep...he would have been 93 in February, 2006.
We salute another Barcaldine legend.
Next up, Lionel Walsh finds the lighter side to a sporting incident in this little gem. Take it away Lionel...
Ted to the Rescue
The recent NRL match between the Broncos and St George Illawarra, where the touch judge accidentally injured a player, took me back to an incident in 1959. Barcaldine was playing Longreach or Winton (I've forgotten which)* and I was playing in the B Grade. For some reason I provoked one of the opposition players. It would not have been intentional because I was the standard nine stone weakling and could not fight my way out of a paper bag, so I always tried to keep a low profile.
Anyhow, there I was lying on my back on the football field in Barcaldine showgrounds with one of the opposition kneeling on top of me pinning my arms to the ground with his knees and punching me with lefts and rights.
The linesman was Ted Seaby. He ran in and started yelling at the aggressor to let me go. This had no effect at all so Ted started belting him with the flagstick. Looking from the ground up, it was such a funny sight, with this bloke belting me and Ted Seaby belting him, that I burst out laughing even though it was no laughing matter from my point of view at the time. It was one time when the linesman injuring a player was definitely no accident, although I certainly appreciated the intervention.
About this time I made the decision to stick to tennis.
*More likely to be Winton - Ed.
And finally Greg Rayner's rip-roaring adventure yarn. Buckle up those seat belts and take it away Speedy...The Wrath of Sgt DC in Barcy
Dear Roy and Bullringer,(I am on to my 3rd can of Guinness - hope that qualifies me!!)*One of my most memorable moments in Barcy was when I was in my old Hd Holden Sedan (c/w 9 inch fats on the back - the car that I bought with the proceeds of a $1 Golden Casket ticket winnings) and I was trying to get my rig to chuck a few "classic wheelies" - just as I had seen FF do in the main drag a few hours earlier. (Names withheld to prevent identities.)Well, as I was on to about my second set at the far end of Beech Street I spotted a white vehicle with blue dome fast approaching - Yes!! it was Sgt DC and one of his new recruits (Constable BS or GC - can't remember). Anyhow, I elected to give them the slip and started going up some of the few "back lanes" of the good town of Barcy - the main plan being to eventually get to the Bull Ring and wait it out until all "cooled down"!After a couple of really cool moves and spotting the P**gs flash past the end of a street or two parallel to me - I chucked a mean Uey and headed south towards Blackall Road. Well - as you may have guessed by now the local Constabulary really did have me out-horsed and appeared out of nowhere to block my escape to the Bull Ring (a place of recluse and safety from the local Constabulary).With a feeling of mortal dread and a sense of sweatiness in the nether regions - I watched as Sgt DC glided from the police Ford sedan. He came towards me and every step I could see that his 11 inch hobnail boots were rearing for a good shining.He bent down to look at me and the central western sun seemed to go out as he loomed into the driver's window - his hand appearing as though it wanted to grab a throat or something - with a mix of typical sarcasm and western wit (+ some choice expletives - censored for the younger readers) he began to inform me that he knew where I was at all times, who I was with and what I was doing etc - he said that he knew I was heading for the Bull Ring as he and his constables knew exactly who was going there/when and what for (blah blah blah!).It was at this point that a dachshund dog yapped from the back seat and Sgt DC saw that the Mayor's daughter (JN) was one of my passengers. His tone changed a little and he then proceeded with a "polite" rendition on how he would tell my mother of my antics.I firmly believe that if the Dachshund did not speak up - my butt would have been the sole focal point of those 11 inch hobnail boots!!That was one of my most memorable occasions - God I love dogs!!!True story.*Just - Ed.Thanks again to all who entered, and to those of you who didn't feature in the top 3, no doubt you will know why now after reading those ripper stories.
Roy the Boy went all the way...
