We loved Cooladdi! We grew up there. It was a place where we had so much fun as kids and at the same time learn about life’s many challenges. Those memories we will cherish forever. We were bush kids and we loved it! A complete contrast to where we are living now. Poey and I live in a small house in Oakey, Queensland.
Cooladdi was a railway siding about 85 kilometres west of Charleville. On the Quilpie line, it takes about 45 minutes to get there. Back in the late fifties and sixties when we lived in Cooladdi, it could take us three or four hours depending on whether we had flat tyres to repair, and the half dozen or so station property gates to open made the trip that much longer.
We would move from the Yumba in Charleville to Cooladdi where we would live for several years to follow. For me, some of the most memorable occasions during this time was the Sonny Liston vs Cassius Clay world heavyweight title fight. I climbed up the mulberry tree and found a nice comfortable place to listen to the fight on Dad’s old battery-operated wireless as he and a few mates sat around the fire bucket chatting and telling stories about their own boxing days whilst also listening to the fight.
The end-of-year school sports day on Friday followed by the dance ball on Saturday night was a special event that we all looked forward to for weeks and it was attended by everyone in the region.
Friday’s sports day was packed full of fun and games. Mothers and fathers would join in and have a great time with their kids. Broom throwing for the ladies, foot races, egg and spoon races, team relays and of course there was plenty of food to eat, watermelons, lollipops, freshly made sandwiches and cordial.
One Saturday afternoon, I remember very well. We had all gathered for a game of rounders. It was a nice flat area on the clay pan down behind Jack Guttie’s place that we’d chosen for the game. Rounders is similar to baseball but with some minor differences. One difference was that someone on the fielding side was put into a tips position to catch the ball. If the hitter snicked it then the tips person would attempt to catch the ball before it would bounce a second time, and if successfully caught, then the batter was given out.
I thought I had fairly quick reflexes so I nominated myself for the tips position. Bill Sully, the most uncoordinated individual you’d ever see in your life, stepped up to bat. The pitcher threw the ball for him to hit, and with an all-mighty swing he only managed to snick it. That’s when I made my move. I leaned in quickly as I wanted to catch the ball before it bounced a second time, but that’s when the rotten cheat tried desperately to hit the ball again – instead of hitting the ball, he smacked me right in the mouth with his bat.
Down I went, blood streaming from my mouth and as I struggled to my feet. Bunny and Bobby came running in to help me and see what damage Sully had caused.
Our house was about two hundred meters away, and when I managed to push them away I took off running as fast as I could towards home and tell Mum what happened. I ran so fast I don’t think Usan Bolt the Olympic champion sprinter wouldn’t have caught me. Given that it was Saturday and the Flying Flee passenger train had already passed through and on its way to Quilpie, I’d have to wait until its return the next day before catching it to see a doctor in Charleville.
I spent a week in the Charleville hospital recovering from a severely busted lip and as a result of the damage done the doctor couldn’t stitch it.
Garry Sonny Martin 