COWBOYS, INDIANS…AND BIG BROTHERS…

24 years ago, on 6^th June, 1998, my brother, Graham passed away. Smiles emanating from my memories give comfort. A “straight-shooter”, Graham looked others directly in the eye. He didn’t suffer fools. A typical older brother, Graham teased the living bejeezus out of me, gaining great pleasure tormenting his little sister. Myriad yarns he spun to get a rise out of me. 

When we were kids he told me to never drink water while eating grapes. By doing so simultaneously, it would turn into wine, he smirkingly said!  No stomping barefooted in grape-filled vats for me…just a glass of water and a mouthful of grapes…easy-peasy!

Billy, the Kid, Wild Bill Hickok, Doc Holliday, Jesse James, Annie Oakley, Belle Starr, Calamity Jane, Geronimo, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse et al hung around in our backyard.  A motley crew we were. Such fun we had circling the wagons. Cowboy and Indian movies shown during Saturday matinees at Gympie’s Olympia Theatres were our inspirations. We never missed a Satuday afternoon, armed with our Jaffas and Fantails, or whatever other special treats had taken our fancy…and our hard-earned pocket money.

Graham was a ‘boy’s boy’, and later, a ‘man’s man’.  Our mother and grandmother sat at the top of his list of priorities.  He loved them dearly. Oft times he was my hero, even though he didn’t know it; many times neither did I.  I do now.

He played Rugby League for the Wanderers’….a local football team. During one game against Brothers he broke his collar bone, but that didn’t lessen his love for the game.

Our pets were important to us.  Graham was lord and master of the various dogs we had when we were kids. “Peter”, a fox terrier, was followed by “Rickie”, a foxie mix, then came “Whisky”, a pug.  Later, he had “Homer”, a beagle, followed by “Missie”, a prim and proper Cocker Spaniel.

Always a competent carpenter, around the age of 11 years, without adult assistance, Graham built a sturdy aviary to house his bird family of quails, budgies (not smugglers…they came later), and finches.  “Sweetie”, our melodious yellow canary lived in his cage upstairs.  Our family of guinea pigs helped maintain the grass at a controllable level.  Bantams unselfishly produced eggs, while the turkeys gobbled.

The loves of my life, of course, were my cats. The cats were always mine.  Graham and I collected tadpoles, too.  Fascinated, we’d follow their journey of life as they morphed into frogs. Without a backward glance, or thanks, they’d hop off. The tortoises we found while playing along the banks of the Mary River never hung around for long.  To our dismay, in haste, they’d make their escape before slowly wending their way to the nearest waterway.

Graham was grateful I talked him into joining the Noosa Heads Surf Lifesaving Club. He embraced the mate-ship and lifestyle. (That’s when and where budgie smugglers came into play).  In the early 60s, no spring nor summer weekend passed without him joining his mates at Laguna Bay. 

A few weeks ago I spoke with one of those mates. Ron, the mate, has also been a long-time friend of mine.  Ron was captain of the Noosa Club for many years, and for many years thereafter was club president.  On Anzac Day, 2022, he resigned after 64 years of dedicated service to the Noosa Heads Surf Lifesaving Club.  A worthy ceremony was held in his honour.  Sadly, this year two mutual friends from the Noosa club have passed away.

Perhaps, if there is a “place somewhere up there”, Graham and his lifesaver mates are catching waves, or clouds, while chewing the fat over fun times long gone…the halcyon days of Noosa…when Noosa really was at its best.

Graham enjoyed following the horses (not on foot), reading, music, fishing, gardening, cooking…and teasing me.

One of the best times we shared was being in the audience at John Denver’s 1994 Townsville concert, and our meeting Denver at concert’s end. 

Big brothers oft times can be hard to live with, but it’s always difficult living without them.