the ‘Ekka’ is in full swing in our capital city at present. Memories flood back at the different times I attended the ten day event.
I couldn’t remember attending the Ekka early in my childhood, but I do remember going with my friend as a teenager. This particular night we waited to ride on the chain swing similar to a Hills clothes hoist with hanging chairs held by chains swinging wide and high depending on the speed the ride travelled.
Waiting for our ride one of the riders opened their mouth and vomit exploded spewing over the crowd. We didn’t get hit, luckily. Many did and the smell caused us to leave the ride and venture onto another.
Years later I worked at the ‘Ekka’ as a police officer finding ‘lost children’ returning them to their parents. We worked to maintain law and order; we weren’t supposed to enjoy ourselves. You’d be surprised to what a police officer got up to when his superior wasn’t looking or checked on them.
After retiring from the force I gained employment at the ‘Ekka’ in the office and there discovered how the annual show followed on from year to year without a hitch. This became an amazing personal experience because until this time I never had any idea of ‘how’ the ‘Ekka’ succeeded over ten days once a year to be such a success.
The following year I returned to the ‘Ekka’ to work over the ten day period and this time performed a different task as the one I did the previous year. This gave me another dimension of how the system worked.
I worked in the office the previous year my role to send out membership badges to members for the duration of the show, when each member could enter as many times as they wished.
My role this particular year became a position at the front entrance opposite the Royal Brisbane Hospital. Patrons either paid to enter the grounds or showed their membership badge. A game many of the young people attending the show began when a patron entered the turnstile, displayed their badge to enter the grounds.
This member then clipped the badge onto the side of his hat, walked to the side wall and threw his hat over the wall. This act was bought to my attention I recorded each membership number as the patron entered the grounds. The same number appeared; I confiscated the membership badge informing the holder it’d be cancelled forthwith. At least this stopped the non-payers from entering.
This occurred so many years ago. I remember as if this event happened yesterday. These memories certainly have been an echo from the city and will remain in my mind forever.
Word count: 467
And Then There Was Light
Earlier that morning the telephone echoed through my home. My wife answered the phone and returned to her warm bed, 'you're wanted.'
'Get your clothes on and meet me at the station.' The words rang in my ear. After dressing, kissing my wife good-bye I drove to the office my work colleague waited with the engine running.
'What's up?' I asked after we'd headed in an easterly direction.
'Oakey Golf Club's been broken into again.'
I didn't need to hear any more for my companion developed a sore head when awakened early. We drove in silence my mind filled with thoughts of not again, how many people; were they still on the premises; and if my companion would settle before we arrived. Darkness enveloped our vehicle only seeing with the headlights shining on the roadway.
Arriving at the golf club the local sergeant filled us in on the latest developments. The clubhouse had been broken in and alcohol taken. Footprints lead from the clubhouse toward a huge railway shed for storing hay. These sheds would conceal anyone.
My companion decided to leave the safety of the police officers and walk to the hay bales. My mind went cold thinking he must've taken his wrong pills before coming on this investigation.
Striding through long grass walking toward these huge hay sheds, darkness engulfed us. No moon nor stars to guide us.
'Why not wait until daylight,' I told him almost stumbling when my foot hit something in the long grass. He kept walking in silence. Closing in on the sheds stacked with hay almost filled to the roof, we continued.
He stopped. I bumped into him, 'watch where you're going,' he said and crouched on the ground, 'I'm trying to listen.' Silence fell between us only hearing the noise of crickets chirping in the long grass.
And then there was light. Almost immediately we sprang to our feet running toward the dim light on the other side of the bales of hay. Two men sat sharing a bottle of rum, 'we got away again,' one laughed and took a swallow from the bottle.
'Police!' My colleague shouted, we both ran toward the two men seated on a bale of hay. The one holding the bottle threw the bottle in our direction, both started to run but my colleague was too swift and stopped them before they'd gone far.
After arresting them the sergeant arrived to take them into custody. We returned to our vehicle. This time they didn't get away.
Word count:427
Confessions Of A Swan Upper
You may ask, 'what is a swann upper?' I'm pleased you asked because Edward IV passed this act in 1482, establishing how much land he needed to keep his game of swans, thus preventing ownership of swans by other people.
My particular role as a swann upper to capture each swan without harm. When the swans are gathered together, each swan captured has a ring fastened to their feet and counted. This became a yearly census of the number of swans in the river.
During the third week of July since 1482 this process is done by swann uppers. You may think it a little over-the-top but I share with you in 2009 on 20th July, Queen Elizabeth 11 attended the Swann Upping ceremony for the first time in her reign, and the first monarch to watch the ceremony in centuries.
You can imagine how excited I was the Queen attended, I almost wet my pants. Only three years later in 2012 the ceremony was cancelled because of flood being the first time in 900 year history. Actually, I didn't know what to do with myself.
With this pertinent information out of the way I'll share with you a story of how I become involved in this course of work. In my early youth I became a 'bit of a lad' or so I thought. With my friends we'd annoyed the swann uppers because of what they did for the monarchy.
On the morning before the swans are to the gathered for their census and leg ringing, my friends and I decided to play a joke on the swann uppers. We'd earlier caught a swan and dressed it in royal clothes fastening a crown to it's head. We'd teach them to take care of the swans in the Thames.
You should've seen the look on the faces of each swann upper when in amongst other swans one dressed like royalty. We took up our hiding place behind the rushes and peeked through to keep an eye on what happened next.
They called the blimey Queen's Guards, they did! We didn't realise they'd take their duty seriously. Anyway, not long afterwards, we were gathered up as criminals and taken to his majesty for justice to be dealt out.
After long deliberation between each party the decision made for each of us to become a swann upper for the remainder of our lives, and that my friend is my confession of becoming a swann upper.
Word count:421
Famous Last Words
My father and I haven’t got the best father-son relationship. Many times I’ve analysed my feelings toward him and came up with a nil result. We’ve had this problem for the past fifty years and I doubt anything will change.
For a time I worked as an alcohol and drug counsellor to discover how certain behaviour affect different people, including myself. Did you know a person’s life is dependent upon how each child was treated from birth until aged six years? There are two options, one being loved and nurtured and the other being abused, sexually or verbally.
Analysing my life up to aged six years I saw my father as a hero, standing on a high pedestal. I would’ve done anything to please him. Unfortunately by practising this behaviour I became a ‘people pleaser’ not only to my father but to almost everyone. I couldn’t say no!
Growing through adolescence this behaviour of being a ‘people pleaser’ strengthened and I beca
me very good at pleasing others, particularly my father. I would do anything for him especially when he arrived home drunk. I remember making him a boiling hot cup-of-coffee and watched him slurp the coffee to his mouth, then with the other hand drink cold beer from a stubby. I honestly thought this was normal behaviour.
Our relationship of father-son fell apart around this period, I don’t know exactly why, might have been all the times he promised to do things together and at the last moment he’d change his mind. Anyway, I left the family home to venture out in the unknown world to discover myself. I was fifteen years old.
I’ll never forget those famous last words my father used before I left, ‘you are an idiot’. At that moment I must admit I felt as though I was an idiot because I knew I was nothing else.
After five years of separation I returned to again live in the family home thinking something had changed between my father and me. Our relationship worsened. The name ‘idiot’ used more times than I care to remember. These famous words seeped into my soul thinking I’d never be anything else.
Lucky for me at this stage of my life, I’d reached the age of twenty-one and joined the Queensland Police. If I had previously had issues with my father these were minimal compared to the issues after I joined the police.
Like I mentioned I worked as an alcohol and drug counsellor, after I retired from the police of twenty years