Alistair MacLeod - Never Die Wondering: Alistair Macleod Story

NEVER DIE
WONDERING

The Alistair MacLeod
Story

This book is dedicated to the people
Of the Australian bush.

Never Die Wondering

Copyright 2020 Alistair Macleod

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, me- chanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written per- mission of the publisher.

The information, views, opinions and visuals expressed in this publication are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect those of the publisher. The publisher disclaims any liabilities or responsibilities whatsoever for any damages, libel or liabilities arising directly or indirectly from the contents of this publication.

Author: Macleod, Alistair,
Title: Never Die Wondering

ISBN: ISBN 978-0-6488065-0-9 (pbk.)

Contents

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step

Embrace your fears and turn them into positive energy

I have everything in life I need, what I want is only a bonus.

Success is a journey not a destination

The biggest regrets in life are the things we dont do, : not the things we do.

What would life be like if we did not have the courage to attempt anything?

Successful people make quick decisions and rarely change their minds. Unsuccessful people delay making decisions and always change their minds.

A great sailor does not become great by sailing on calm waters

A pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity; An optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty

Fear is temporary regret is permanent

Happiness lies in the joy of achievement and the thrill of creative energy

Money will not bring happiness but bad stewardship of money will steal happiness

Chapter One
1965 1982

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step

When is the right time to write your memoirs, and how do you start? In recent years, many people have asked me to write down my life experiences but recently my sons attitude to life has prompted me to do so. I look at him and all I see is a copy of me; a young kid burning with a want for knowledge, a want of adventure. What more can a father wish for, as long as he lives life with integrity and respect for others? I have been fortunate to experience a few pinnacles in my life, but the ultimate would have to been my son and I, mustering several hundred head of our own cattle on our own grazing properties at 1,000 meters above sea level in the Snowy Mountains. Riding horses that have had years of experience with us in the high country; our dogs barking, moving the mob of cattle along, stringing out for a kilometre; the crack of our stock whips, echoing through the crisp mountain air, and the both of us in our element . It does not get better than this .

To me, this moment was the result of 30 years of hard work, many of which were filled with anxiety, despair and failure. Now I know the asset pool is heading towards the millions but the dollar figure isnt the success Wealth is created a long time before any money is made .

When I was a boy, my father would take me into the mountains to catch trout. I remember the first time I caught my first fish, a rainbow. It was not the fact it was my first trout that made this so strong in my memory, it was all the dreaming beforehand, the excitement of the planning of the day ahead, the excitement early in the morning heading up the track towards the fishing hole. It was the grass hopper I put on the line, the casting out to the right spot, waiting for a bite. Having that adventurous spirit and a passion for life, I would eventually get to live a life of passion and real adventure; trying to turn all the negative aspects that life threw at me to positive ones, to have a successful life. This is my story.

I was born in Melbourne, on the 8th of July 1965, at the Essendon hospital. For 17 years I lived at 17 Archer Avenue, Ascot Vale, a middle class suburb, and was schooled at Ascot Vale West Primary and then Footscray Tech. Though my younger years were spent in Melbourne, three months out of every year were spent in the bush. My father, Harry MacLeod, was a public servant at the ordinance factory in Maribynong. I was fortunate to have a father who spent every spare moment he could with his son. My mother Edna [nee Hamid] MacLeod, followed in tow to some very remote regions of the Australian high country for many weeks of the year. Trout fishing was the biggest lure for my father to visit these places, but I know now that it was just an excuse to be in the bush. Trout fishing, duck shooting or just camping out, as a boy it seemed to me that my home was the Australian bush and Melbourne was a place to just go to school. My family from both sides had been traditionally Footscray identities. I was in fact a fourth generation on both sides of my family. The Hamids and MacLeods had all spent most of their lives in the Maribynong River precinct. My grandfathers, Jack MacLeod and Alby Hamid, were renowned pugilists, and very successful boxing trainers. I did a bit of gym work as a kid, sparring and so on, at the Footscray Youth Club. My father would always tell me, Its a mugs game. But as a young feller, I loved the yarns and stories of the old timers, hearing about how they had made a bob slogging it out. The tales of their hard lives were folk lore: to me growing up I found it fascinating, listening to the stories of what men would do to feed their families in the hard times, my grandfather Alby Hamid was a well known boxing trainer, who had fought the Australasian Flyweight Champion and had won, he had close to sixty fights, only 11 being amateur. The notorious gangster Squizzy Taylor paid him as a youngster after he won a fight at Fitzroy stadium. Grandfather Alby also ran an illegal bookmaking business, S.P. (starting price) and a two up game in the Latrobe Valley. He would sit me down and yarn about the traveling boxing shows that he was involved with, such as those run by the famous Jimmy Sharman and Puck Evans.

My grandfather was a half caste by virtue of his father being Casim Abdul Hamid, a Sri Lankan jewellery dealer. He was sometimes believed to be one of the many Aboriginal fighters at that time, some of whom he had sparred with. To the beat of the drum, the spruiker would call out to the crowd, Who is game enough to take on these fellers? The fighters stood in their weight division, waiting for any takers and for the bets to be made. On one of these occasions, the showman told my grandfather, This man is only a mug Alby, so jab him towards where I am, and when you get up close, I will nod a few times. Just start upper cutting him and get in close and make sure youre only inches from me. The bell rang and it was on. My grandfather reckons he jabbed this feller right over to the showman who was standing right on the ground ropes. As the mug was punched back up against the showman, he nodded. Then the Grandfather got in close and started to upper cut. The feller just dropped to the ground, stone cold knocked out. They lifted up Grandfathers hand and after collecting the takings, they escorted him into the adjoining tent. The showman was counting the money and said: Well done, Alby! That was a great fight! My grandfather was totally bewildered and said to the showman, But I never hit him! The showman replied : I know you never, I did. That was one of the many tales my grandfather had told me over the years as I was growing up. He also had a motto: fight clean, live clean and try to be a gentleman . Although I was extremely close to my grandfather and loved listening to his stories, there were times in his life where fairness was not in the equation. One day he showed me the double headed coin that he had used in his two up school that he was running in the Latrobe Valley. If he had been caught, he reckons he would have not left there alive. At no stage do I condone his ways but I understand them. They were different times, those Depression years, and people did desperate things to feed their families. My other Grandfather, Jack MacLeod was involved with a variety of business ventures and had friendships with the likes of John Wren, [Of Power Without Glory fame), author Frank Clune, ex - Bulldog Norm Ware, world heavyweight champion Freddie [Red] Cochrane, and jockey Ron Hutchison. He also trained fighters like Mal Appleby, who was later gunned down in Footscray in a gangster related incident. He also trained Franky Flannery, the Australian light weight champion, and Al Basten, the Australian middleweight champion. Jack MacLeod was into betting on all fights, to running roosters [bird fights] and dog fights. He owned and operated a fish mongers business and owned a fleet of taxis, and was known to be fighting the Australian Tax Office for many years. At seventeen years of age, he had joined the Australian Infantry Forces in the 1914-1919 First World War. He had boxed in England and won a lightweight championship as a fly weight, with 36 fights for 32 wins, two draws and two losses. Jack MacLeod also saw action at Passchendaele, in the Battle of the Somme, where the western front claimed tens of thousands of Australian lives. He was wounded in action twice, and suffered for years with shrapnel wounds and the legacy of mustard gas.