Ashe’s mother , reduced to tears every October 20, the anniversary of her husband’s tragic death in Western Australia, died in l946. A close relationship developed between Ashe and Sydney literary critic and playwright L. L. Woollacott. In correspondence Ashe variously addressed Woollacott as L.L.W., Dear Dyed in the Woolly and just Woolly . In turn , the critic, a former editor of the caustic literary magazine Triad , which distinguished itself by never accepting free tickets to anything , signed his letters ,Woolly. They discussed everything from authors to poetry and music .
In one letter written in the l950s, Woollacott asked Ashe if he was too old to consider leaving Townsville to handle the business side of a literary magazine. “Woolly” indicated Ashe’s likely response: “ Don’t throw that bottle of beer at me .” He also suggested Ashe should bring out a book illustrated by someone like cartoonist Emile Mercier to catch the Christmas market . Woollacott claimed to have given Mercier “ his start ” 20 years previously.
( By Peter Simon )
The lanky accountant gained much inspiration for his songs from bushies who came into his office. Invariably , he adjourned to a nearby pub for lunch when clients dropped in from the outback . Before he left the office on such occasions he would instruct staff not to present him with matters requiring deep thought upon his return .
His work as an accountant and involvement with theatrical groups in town brought him in contact with a broad cross section of society including , as mentioned earlier in Little Darwin , the Communist writer and activist , New Zealander Jean Devanny. Devanny had been expelled from the Communist Party of Australia. Ashe , conservative politically, was reportedly willing to talk to anyone as long as they had a sense of humour. He and Devanny had what were called friendly arguments. Devanny aged 68, died on International Women’s Day , March 8, l962. A book of musical poems written by John Ashe saw him made a Fellow of the International Academy of Poets, Cambridge, England, in 1968.
Ashe married late in life , l970, aged 63. In typical jocular fashion , he put this down to the fact that when he was young and blue-eyed girls made his heart backfire he was not on the marriage market as salaries were small, and he was “ backstop” for three generations in the family cottage . A retired Royal Navy officer, Captain Campbell, who had fought at the great Battle of Jutland in World War 1 , was responsible for him meeting the woman he wed. She was Mrs Joan Margaret Mealy , a petite schoolteacher from Newcastle, NSW, who had a liking for French, classical music, opera and ballet; she also taught hearing impaired children in Townsville.
Captain Campbell, ultra British, tall, emphatic, lived on Magnetic Island , and took her hiking, striding along in the lead , a great cane in hand . He commanded her to come and meet this accountant friend of his called John Ashe , who also wrote poetry. The meeting blossomed into romance . The two subsequently married and Captain Campbell , a chest full of medals , gave the bride away. John distinguished himself at the church by parading down the aisle waving his arms as if conducting Mendelsson’s Wedding March .There was never a dull moment living with John Ashe.
Then they would indulge themselves by attending every classical music concert possible before heading back to Townsville. During their visits to Sydney they called on Slim Dusty and his wife, Dot, who in turn visited them in their Townsville cottage when on tour in North Queensland. Mrs Ashe said John frequently brought graziers home , and they would sit around the table, drinking, laughing and swapping hilarious yarns.
Her husband, she said, had a “ wicked” sense of humour . At funerals, while mourners were being informed of the sterling qualities of the dear departed , John would make cynical comments out of the side of his mouth , making it hard not to laugh . Extant somewhere is a photograph showing Ashe in a relaxed pose, his feet up on the piano .
Ashe had been hopeless with his hands, unable even to change a light globe. His longtime friend from 4TTT, Alan Stephenson , told how he found Ashe struggling to open a tin of sardines. Stephenson told him to use the key attachéd to the tin, and Ashe asked what you did with the so and so key. Mrs Ashe said John managed to open a can on his own one day and had been proud of the achievement . Anything “ technical ” about the house was left to her to handle.
While coming back from a swim with Ashe, Stephenson drove to a shop to buy something to eat. Ashe spoke to a young girl there who had her own car. Not having ever owned a car himself, he asked her how she could afford one. Her reply-“ I’m living on the social service ”- instantly gave him the inspiration for a song , Living on the Social Service .
Recognition for his musical work came in 1978 when he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. As part of Queensland’s growing interest in its wartime past , Ashe, aged 77, was filmed in l984 singing his song about Uncle Sam ; he was also asked to provide first hand information for a book about the Americans in Townsville.
Ashe became confused late in life and wandered away, eventually being placed in a home. Mrs Ashe found it distressing to see a man who had been so knowledgeable and full of life reduced to such a sorry state. Each time she called to see him, he would say ,"Good, you have come to take me home ." However, he soon forgot everything , and Mrs Ashe would leave in tears.
Ashe died on Christmas Eve l994 at the age of 87 ; his ashes were buried in the family grave in Townsville Cemetery . The old miner’s cottage in which he spent most of his life remained as a time capsule before eventually being sold in 2004. In it were his beloved books, his large record collection , the upright piano, paintings and engravings of early Townsville and other Australian pictures.
A large Eric Jolliffe Aboriginal drawing , with an associated risqué story, presented to Ashe by the cartoonist , hung on the wall . Among the books was a l968 presentation copy of We Bushies (Modern Australian Ballads) by Richard Magoffin , one of Ashe’s fans, who also wrote the folk history of Waltzing Matilda. Ashe wrote the foreword to the book which the author could not get published in Australia, it being produced in England and Hong Kong, running up sales of more than 15,000 .
Magoffin, Ashe wrote , was a “ true disciple” of Henry Lawson and Banjo Paterson . He continued : “Since the advent of the talking films, radio, television and the Top 4O, Australia has completely passed under the influence of the U.S.A., and the bush ballad, so popular in earlier days , has just about died out, except Out West in the cattle camps... The day will come again when Australians show more interest in their own country and I hope Richard Magoffin will keep up this good work and keep the Aussie light shining bright . He writes of a wonderful country, one of the last frontiers , and he is following the trail blazed by our best balladeers . Good luck to our modern Banjo of the West ”
Tucked away in Ashe’s record collection was a presentation copy of the score from the musical play Song of the Snowy , composed by Edmond Samuels, who wrote : “To John Ashe-From one entirely Australian -minded composer to another.”
