REACHING OUT TO THE CITY LIGHTS....CHAPTER SIX

Queen Street, Brisbane in the 1960s

June Dally-Watkins with Bob Hope

Christmas was fast approaching. I wasn’t feeling in a celebratory mood, but decided that I would bury my heartache and face the world head on with a smile on my face. Life was still going on around me, regardless of my personal heartbreak. Taking a few deep breaths, I told myself I wanted to be part of life, not stay hidden away in some dark corner pining for something that couldn’t be altered.  It was what it was.  Randall and I hadn’t broken up. He had just gone away for a while. For how long at that point in time, neither of us knew. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that he wouldn’t be out having fun. So I took a deep breath; pulled my socks up (not literally..I was wearing pantyhose by that stage); straightened my shoulders, and told myself it was my intention to do similar.

I put most of my energy into my work, becoming very involved in every aspect of it. My boss introduced me to a young hosiery buyer from one of the city’s Myer department stores. Fay had relocated to Brisbane from Far North Queensland not long before my own defection from Gympie.  My boss believed she and I, being in a similar boat, would get on well.

Feeling a little uncomfortable by being the subjects of “friendship-making”, we were a bit wary of each other when we were first “pushed together”, not particularly enjoying a friendship being forced upon us. To appease my “Lord and Master”, Fay and I agreed to meet. She came to my flat one Saturday afternoon. It turned out my employer had better insight than we had, because Fay and I hit it off once we recovered from our initial discomfort during the first few minutes of our meeting. She was keen on having fun and causing a bit of mayhem. I was not at all opposed to that way of thinking, either. We were both as “crazy” as each other.

Together we posed a dangerous threat to society! Fay was a very attractive lass; one who was full of life, good humour and wit. Over the next few months we had some great times together, hitting the “high spots” of Brisbane. terrorizing the locals.

The following year, Fay decided to “test the waters” up in Papua New Guinea, gaining a job with the Australian Government at Boroka, outside of Port Moresby. We communicated for a while after she settled into Boroka, sending inane, insane letters back and forth, but after a time we lost contact, unfortunately. I’ve often wondered what happened to her, and which directions in life she chose to follow.

Laurie, a friend of Randall from their high school days, whom I’d met and befriended, decided he, too, would try being a radio announcer. Following in Randall’s footsteps, Laurie decided to join the Color Radio network, but because he was inexperienced, he was being sent to Mount Isa, a mining town way out the back of “Whoop-Whoop”, in far north-western Queensland. He was leaving shortly after Christmas to follow his chosen career path. After Randall’s departure it was good to have a friendly face on the scene. I was glad to have Laurie as a friend. Regularly he’s telephone, and often we met for coffee, or drinks after work. Laurie had an empathetic ear. I hated the fact that he, too, would soon be leaving Brisbane.  

However, slowly I was meeting new people. My network of friends was steadily increasing.

That year my Christmas plans were made for me. I spent Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Randall’s parents who lived in Geebung, a northern suburb of Brisbane.

New Year had been booked out since a few months earlier. A good friend, Marj, planned her wedding to be held on New Year’s Day. I felt like throttling her for doing so. It meant I had to spend part of my New Year’s Eve on a train trip back to Gympie, a thought that didn’t thrill me in the least. I’d not spent a New Year’s Eve in Gympie since before I commenced working in my first job, in the Gympie law firm. New Year’s Eve meant “coast” and “parties” to me, not sitting on a train, and then being stuck in my old hometown. I was not amused!

The eve of the New Year arrived. I’d booked a seat on the Gympie train for around 6.30pm. As I was leaving my office, I ran into a guy I knew.  He invited me to join him for a quick drink in celebration of the soon to be New Year. I had a bit of time up my sleeve so I agreed. On the way we crossed paths with Laurie, who decided to join us. Like the Three Musketeers we settled comfortably into a cocktail bar at a hotel in Queen Street, the CBD’s main street. Too comfortably it appeared because time had flown by without noticing it had done so.  Laughing, the three of us scurried up to Central Station, only to see the end carriage of my train disappearing out of sight!

Full of high spirits, like robbers after a heist, we ran to Laurie’s car, a VW beetle. We finally caught up with the train at “Sunshine” station on the northern side of Brisbane. I jumped aboard the train, sad to be leaving my mad friends behind.

It was a depressing trip to Gympie. In rhythm with the wheels on the rail lines, I cursed Marj under my breath the duration of the journey, a journey that seemed to take forever. What timing she had! Such a silly day to get married! Finally, the train pulled into Gympie station around 11 pm. I caught a cab home. Both Mum and Nana greeted me with open arms. Understanding my displeasure, although I did my best to conceal it in their presence, Mum offered me a rum and Coca Cola, saying, “I’m sure you feel like one of these!” Readily agreeing, I took a long sip.

Sitting on our verandah chatting quietly with my mother and grandmother, a car pulled up outside. It was Marj and her soon-to-be husband, Quentin. She and Quentin had failed in their plan to meet me at the train station so decided to catch me at home. For a brief few minutes, we all sat around talking and sipping on rum and cokes before Quentin was duly and dutifully chased away at midnight. Marj and I spent her last night of “singledom” discussing our past, and what our futures had in store for us, before finally ending our reminiscing and wondering in the early hours of New Year’s Day.   

Farewell 1965…welcome 1966.

An older brother of Marj’s was my escort to her wedding. Everything was going along smoothly at the wedding until it came time for the speeches during the reception. Without warning I began to cry. Not just cry, I became uncontrollable, inconsolable! I was losing everyone; all my dear and much-loved friends.  Randall was briefly visiting New Zealand’s north island where he’d spent a few weeks before continuing his journey to the United States, with New York his destination…following his dream.

 Marj was married and heading off to her own adventures.  During their honeymoon, she and Quentin were moving to Alice Springs in the Northern Territory, where Quentin would be working within an engineering company…,thousands of miles away.

Everyone I cared about was not just moving from one suburb to another. They were going to, or had gone off to far distant places…to the ends of the earth it seemed. It was all too much to digest, or deal with at that moment in time. Marj’s wedding was the catalyst that caused the floodgates of my broken heart to open. I left the reception room, not wanting to make a total fool of myself, or embarrass my very confused escort. After a while, concerned, he came out to find me, a flood of tears still streamed down my face, and my body racked with sobs. Feeling totally helpless, he offered to take me home. Without hesitation, I accepted his offer. My mother greeted us at our front stairs, surprised that I was home so early. My poor escort, who knew not what to say, or what to do with the crazy young woman he’d met for the first time that day, handed me over to my mother, making a hasty exit after doing so. I bet I was the last “blind date” he ever had!

Mum tucked me into bed, listening, understanding my outpourings of grief. I cried until I could cry no more, finally descending into an exhausted sleep. I had emptied the dam, at least for a while. I woke next morning feeling wrung-out. I caught the early afternoon train back to Brisbane. Mum and Nana were concerned about me, naturally, but I told them I would be fine. I knew I would be. It was entirely up to me to be so.

Once back in Brisbane, it was a New Year.  Determinedly, I was going to treat and face it accordingly. I had many unknown rivers yet to cross; hurdles to overcome; new people to be met. and fun to be had.

Early in the New Year, Kolotex introduced a new pantyhose product called “Top Secret”. The launch was to become part of my first foray into the promotion of a new line to the retail trade en măsse.

I contacted the June Dally-Watkins Model Agency.  Models were sent to us for our assessment. Lennons Hotel was the chosen venue to herald in “Top Secret”. A fashion parade was already in the planning stages, based on a James Bond theme.  We were moving at a rate of knots. I was in my element.  Three top Brisbane models of the day were chosen. They were Louisa Van Duerzen (who had been crowned “Miss Surf Girl” a couple of years earlier), Kay Roberts and one of the stylish Tamblyn twins.

Leading up to the evening, the office was a-buzz with energy and excitement. Invitations were sent out to the “trade”. Various outfits were chosen for the models, which included trench coats, scarves, mysterious hats and dark glasses to set the theme our new range of pantyhose. The catering staff at Lennons Hotel had been instructed on the fare for the evening. We were ready to take on the retail fashion trade of Brisbane…but were they ready for us? Our clients thought they were prepared, but we had a lot more in store for them in the ensuing years.

This was to be the beginning of some exciting wonderful times, but before they came into fruition, I was soon to go in a completely different, unexpected direction.

To be continued....