Continuing biography of Northern Territory Crusading Editor, "Big Jim" Bowditch, by Peter Simon
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Hand on hip , Bowditch , in media and government group inspecting progress on first houses built after Cyclone Tracy . The tall person is NT News editor , John Hogan , who declared activist Rob Wesley-Smith " mad " without getting a second opinion. Hogan later became editor of the Townsville Bulletin and was involved in a truly mad episode one evening which saw him in court. In front of Hogan is senior public servant Martyn Rudolf Finger.
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In l977 , with the expansion of
the workload and greater production of
publications resulting in much
after hours work, I outlined problems
and suggested solutions
in a memo . In it , I said Jim Bowditch
produced six editions of the rural magazine whereas previously
there had only been four . On top of this , he not only serviced the Animal Industry Branch but assisting in
other areas, ran the office when I was out of town. Because of this ,it was suggested that
Bowditch should be paid an A
grade wage .
In its usual helpful way, instructions were issued
for the office car not to be used
after hours as it was deemed that
there was insufficient
justification. This was despite the fact that
the growing demands of
publications and deadlines required after hours and weekend work .
I responded with a memo...”I
think it should be understood
that the Information and Public
Relations Branch , with its present staff of two journalists , handles a pretty hefty workload. We work in an area where there is a demand for
instant information ,
deadlines to meet and try to avert criticism of the Department. I often get the firm belief that nobody
gives a stuff or understands what we are about anyway ... a situation which is
dangerous for the Department in the
end.”
CLERK BRANDISHED CHOPSTICKS
To cope with the
flood of redtape which flowed in and out of
Information and PR ,a request was
made for a clerk. The incredible situation was reached where
the clerk actually gazetted for
the job went off on six months’ leave without
putting a foot in the door. A number of
typists -not fast and accurate - were provided to meet the need after a long wait . One had a row with her
husband on the telephone , went outside during a tropical storm
and threw her wedding ring into
the gutter . She then returned to her
desk ringing wet. Water dripped down onto her
electric typewriter and we were concerned she might be electrocuted .
A genial, fun loving Irishman, who had been involved with food in Thailand ,
was sent along to help out in the office
. An article he wrote criticising an eatery in the Thai capital resulted in a man threatening to burn down a Bangkok building, from memory the Bangkok Post . A send up article I wrote for the government
publication, featuring a photograph of our inflammatory clerk in a chef’s hat , brandishing chopsticks and a wok
, for the monthly NT
Newsletter , which I edited, offended
the keepers of the illustrious public service.
If ever a
person should have written her memoirs , it was Jill Graham , an English
clerk who worked in the Information
and PR
Branch. I raised the subject with her on occasions, but she said not yet , then died . Her observations
and experiences in Information and PR
section alone would have made entertaining
reading . As a young gel , before
she
came to Australia , she worked for a
dodgy gentleman in London who used to
sell by mail order the mystic Seal of
Solomon , standard and de
luxe , which magically
enabled you to
attract ravishing women like
flies, break the bookies, get
your name on the A list of desirable people to have at High Society soirees , be a success in business, stop baldness ,
overcome dandruff , etc. His office was high up in an old building with numerous empty offices ; whenever he heard somebody come into the building and start walking up the stairs , he would run and hide in one of the vacant spaces. He also tore the stamps off letters wanting the Seal of Solomon and sold them to stamp dealers .
SETTING THE WORLD AFIRE
Her crazy background , which included time spent as a shorthand typist in the
Foreign Office in London , where she used to slide down stairs on her
bottom because she could not stand heights, made her a natural for the Information and PR madhouse . Her second marriage in difficulty,
she and her time and motion study
husband came to Australia to see if things would improve . Here her husband encountered
aggressive Australian workmen who called him a Pommie bastard wanting
to wipe out Aussie
jobs. The marriage further declined ; they went to New
Zealand , separated. Jill described how she had burst into tears at a government office in Auckland when she wanted to return to Australia but because of strong currency controls on the amount that a person could take out of the country she was prevented from doing so.
Drying her eyes, she got over that obstacle and eventually lobbed back in Australia. At some stage she found herself at the Anakie gemfield in Queensland , with a fossicker . While she was preparing a special meal for them just on dusk at a bush camp the open fire set the camp alight , causing her to run about screaming , beating out flames . A number of rings she had were made from gemstones found at Anakie.
MISSING IN CYCLONE , MADE A DUCHESS
Absolutely terrified of cockroaches due to waking up in a room in Sydney crawling with them, causing her to scream blue murder, she came to Darwin , a popular cockie
resort , and probably had her unit sprayed so many times it warranted an entry in the Guinness Book of Records.
She
was highly efficient and grossly
underpaid . One of her responsibilities
was to
compile Who’s What Where a guide to government and community office bearers . Jill called it
Who’s Up Who. Fond of food and wine , she
entertained at her residence in
Duke Street, Stuart Park , and became
known as the Duchess of Duke Street
.
She survived Cyclone Tracy, but went missing in the chaos and we feared that she had been killed . However, somehow, she actually went to a strange wedding down the track . Her account of her adventures during that period , especially at Adelaide River, involving a stabbing , was astonishing. Arriving back in Darwin, she took refuge with me and my wife in the remains of our house , below, at Nightcliff , so that we could rightfully boast that the Duchess of Duke Street slept there .
ABUSIVE AND OBSCENE LANGUAGE
I
was “interviewed ” by two officers
in l977 and told that my attitude and approach towards other members of the Department of the Northern Territory fell far short of what was expected. A “NOTE FOR THE FILE”
from that tete-a-tete said Mr Simon’s
use of abusive and obscene language could not be
justified by the “normal channels
” continuously ending in disappointment and frustration . I was told that my own aggressive manner
was a major factor in “ alleged lack of cooperation ” from other branches of the Department.
More serious action could follow
if I
did not change my ways . I responded with another note
saying the brief summary
of the lengthy interview with the
two officers had omitted
much of the “meat ” of what had been
discussed. In doing so,
the file note had conveyed a lop-sided account .
It
was pointed out the Branch often had to
fight to protect the Minister in Canberra , the
Department and heads of divisions. If the Branch was continually neglected
and given the run around , it would
give up the thankless task of trying to shield others and let individuals fend for
themselves.
In
a postscript, my memo read : When Mr
Simon recently had discussions with the Secretary (the head of the Department ) ,
about the low image of the Department
with the Media because of slow
answering of media questions , the angry Secretary used “fucking
” and “ testicles ”. Simon said he hoped the interviewing officers would
counsel the head of the department about the use of this kind of language .
WATER SNORTER
At
one stage I was
summoned to discuss Bowditch’s behaviour in
the public service.
Bowditch had a habit of
frequently coming back to the
office late at night
- occasionally for a kip -
and this and other things were obviously
noted. The jowly officer
who expressed concern
about Bowditch was
himself notorious for
his daily ritual
of noisily snorting water up
his nostrils from
the office water
cooler , like a warthog going through ablutions .
His weird act
repulsed some onlookers, one woman refusing to use the cooler.
This
fellow outlined Bowditch’s
shortcomings. When he
began to speculate
about what Mr Bowditch
did at night
and made a
particularly derogatory remark
about his way
of life , I became
enraged . My feeling was that this drone was making offensive remarks about Bowditch who during WWll had faced death many times , been decorated for bravery. Firmly and
loudly , I said
speculating about Bowditch’s
way of life
was improper , even
actionable at law ,
and showed that
the officer was
out of his
depth in handling
staff matters . He
should deal with facts , not speculate
and make offensive
remarks. As a
result of this
fiery encounter, I
advised Bowditch to keep his nose
clean and to
avoid hanging about the
office like a
vampire bat at night
.
Soon after , I
was again warned
about my behaviour. An
official missive came my way listing
incidents in which I had
clashed with officers
holding down high
positions . One episode related
to nobody in
Treasury being able
to provide simple
information about expenditure . Another
divisional head found
me boorish for
sticking it up him
. The mugwump
who wrote the
warning letter had
himself been offended
when I pointed out
that there was
a vast difference
between writing a media release and
a eulogy , so it was
highly desirable to
issue clear instructions
as to what
was wanted in
the first instance .
The last charge
against me was that
the water snorter
had sent in
a report, supported by witnesses
, objecting to my language
and behaviour in
respect of the
discussion over Bowditch’s
noctural visits to
the office. NEXT : Both in trouble again .
