Working as the volunteer editor of Citation , journal of the Northern Territory Police Museum and Historical Society in Darwin brought me into contact with Graham Rees , highly efficient and jovial secretary of the Retired Police Association of the Northern Territory.
We operated from the same building and over the years had many diverse discussions, especially at morning tea. At some stage he mentioned he had once dressed up as the Fairy Godmother for a fund raiser... and dropped the teaser that I might find a photograph of him decked out in pink as that dear old lady... knowing that I spent many hours going through the fabulous museum files and other archives about town . The idea of finding a former traffic cop dressed as the Fairy Godmother spurred me on.
Naturally , from time to time , I addressed him as The Fairy Godmother when I spent so much time in the museum , surrounded by filing cabinets, spears, exhibitions from famous court cases , a storage room packed with items of interest, including handmade weapons made in East Timor ,into which I burrowed . A scribe's veritable paradise I so felt .
Arriving one morning at the museum , I parked the car outside , noticed men running about, walked up the stairs, saw some dodgy looking character sitting outside on the porch , went inside . Graham Rees informed me we were in the middle of a pretend siege . Yelling , thumping was heard . A bang ...
The Fairy Godmother walked in and laughingly announced they had just blown up my car . Never in all the fairytale versions of the Fairy Godmother had she made a funnier statement ...which required another cuppa and some more Scotch fingers , bought by Saus Grant, another dear departed cop, in bulk at Woolworths.
Graham also produced a newsletter for retired police officers and we exchanged notes. He was interested in books , and we discussed some of the notorious cops and politicians in New South Wales , where he had started his police career , Tennant Creek, where he and his wife had lived , Big Jim Bowditch , the crusading editor of the Northern Territory News, and many colourful long gone officers.
When I moved away from the Territory to Magnetic Island we continued contact by phone and email . At times he rebuked me for bad spelling , and dubbed me Captain Curlew because of all the items I wrote about the birds .
Graham rang and told me he had a short time to live due to liver cancer . Recently, I thought I should ring Graham and ask him to grace the island with a visit in a Fairy Godmother outfit and represent the tough cops of the NT in a jitterbugging contest, which would surely have knocked the socks offa the locals. I failed to do so...and then came word from Darwin that he had died. As I write this, Curlews have started wailing outside-Captain Curlew feels that self same sorrow.
