Thoughts and Afterthoughts

Rory Campbell

When you are in primary school, everyone from the generations older than your parents fits into the category of old. I have no idea just how old Rory was and I am even at a loss to say whether he was retired at the time. I know roughly where he lived, and he may have been farming on a small scale. The party line phone we used was connected to his home. I can say with near certainty that anyone who lived in the area for a year or two knew him and his wife, ‘Wee Betty’. She came up fairly close to his shoulder height. It was understood by everyone on our party line that she listened to all conversations to which that line gave her access. I don’t remember anyone accusing her of broadcasting information. She may well have decided that she did not want to provide evidence for those who might object if they could. Rory himself was tall and straight. I think he must have started out topped off with red hair as described by the Gaelic ‘Rory’. By the time I knew him I think the flame would have gone out up top. I have no memory about the extent of the fading remnant. What I do remember is what we always called a Busby, but I think is more properly called a Bearskin. For a considerable number in the area of the township of Waipu New Years Day was ‘The One Day of the Year’. For the first half of the day you could meet a lot of people in full highland regalia and possibly smelling of moth balls. Rory was always one of these. Wee Betty was not always by his side but they were visible together enough times during the day to allow strangers to be told about the long and the short of it in local marriage.

I dare say he was a feature in some of the word of mouth advertising for the festivities and the sports to start the New Year. If you meet anyone who ever heard of him there is at least one extra feature that is unique in my experience. In my memory he is the only person who carried an ear trumpet. Now of course in my turn I am a fading remnant of the urchins of the time who all just had to find and excuse to talk to him and can now say that they used an ear trumpet for real at least once.

Hearing aids were not all that common at the time, but if he had lived so long and you met him now he might still be using the trumpet. As a friend of mine remarks audibly occasionally “You do not get Scottish ancestry for nothing, but if you have it you are bound to try and get everything else for nearly nothing”.

The Auckland Star was one of two widely read papers and it was always searching for ways to increases its share of the reading populace. Rory in fact often called in to see his nephew just down the road about the time that the Star was delivered.

So it came about that he brought unintended fame to his locality and a lot of friendly amusement to his neighbours. A paragraph appeared in one of the regular columns of the Star – with a fictitious name, possibly to avoid any way it could be actionable.

‘McSqudgeon of Waipu has written our circulation editor a nice letter and we would like to quote from it. “Dear Sir, I have read of the offer of privileges you are making to your readers. Now I read your paper very regularly, but I never buy it. I am not able to use the standard entry form. Will the information I offer here be sufficient?”’

From memory the editor too was a skinflint, and none of the neighbours was moved to buy a subscription for Rory. Nobody I heard ever doubted the identification. I think his nephew, plus wife and family, were quite happy to continue to see him each day. Wee Betty was presumably too busy specialising in the local news, but they could compare notes when he got home.

posted by Donald Beag @ 12:22 AM